Part 31 (1/2)
”Remind me.”
”The name Nate Grabowski strike a familiar note?”
”Not even a glimmer.”
”I fear for your soul, my friend.”
Nate Grabowski had the unmistakable look of a former athlete. Rich living had added a substantial layer of lard since his football days, but he still moved like a gladiator. When he saw their badges, his shoulders hunched and he put up meaty hands as if to ward off a linebacker. ”What is it this time? Somebody's claiming his brakes quit? Worse? Accelerator pedal stuck? Tell him there's a lineup.”
”Nothing like that, sir,” Stacy said. ”We want to talk about football.”
”Oh yeah? Okay. Good. Police starting a kids' team or something? You want some coffee?”
Stacy took the lead. ”No, thank you, we don't want to take too much of your time. Need some information, if you can provide it, about the 1982 Argonauts team you played on. Do you remember any trips you made to Montreal to play the Alouettes that year?”
”Nope.”
”Oh.”
”Trick question. They weren't the Alouettes in '82. Montreal Concordes. They went two and fourteen. Don't know how they won two games. Terrible team. They didn't last long.”
”Whatever,” Adele said. ”But you were with the Argos '82?”
”You know it.”
”You remember that season?”
”Well, h.e.l.l yeah! We went to the Grey Cup. Played the Eskimos. Exhibition Stadium.”
”Congratulations.”
”We lost. Scored two touchdowns in the first quarter and after that we couldn't do d.i.c.k.”
”Montreal.”
”What about it?”
”You remember a teammate, Dylan O'Grady?”
”Dilly? Sure. What is this, a background check? You don't think there's a s...o...b..ll's chance of him getting elected, do you?”
”I wouldn't know, sir.”
”Some diamonds have turned up that Mr. O'Grady may have been involved with,” said Stacy.
”In 1982,” Adele added.
”Oho! Oh yeah, I remember that one. 'Dilly's Deluxe Diamond Deal.' They were hot, right? I figured. I didn't go in on that one.” He looked from one to the other and shook his head. ”Listen, I've only had one bite out of my sandwich, mind if we sit in my office?”
”After you, sir.”
The sandwich waiting on his desk was a foot-long Subway creation. He picked it up and looked at it without affection. ”Supposed to be slimming,” he said. ”I don't know. Sit, sit.” He put it down without taking a bite and had a sip of Diet c.o.ke instead. ”He always had something going on the side. Leather jackets, big name handbags for the wives, and every time there'd be a story to go with it.”
”What was the story that went with the diamonds?”
”Wait a minute, wait a minute, it'll come to me. It was a beaut.” This time he had a bite and chewed for a moment. ”Now I've got it. Dilly had this p.a.w.nbroker. Fat little creep. Always checking out your stuff.”
”Your stuff?” Adele distinctly heard her stomach rumble.
”Yeah, like your watch, like 'How much you pay for that? I can get you a Rolex,' and then he has like three watches up his arm. That kind of guy.”
”Remember his name?”
”Louie something. I wouldn't buy a newspaper off him.”
”So what was the story they gave out about the diamonds?”
”It's coming to me.” He swallowed. ”Right, they belonged to a woman who was maybe the great granddaughter of Anastasia or something.”
”You didn't believe it?”
”I never believed his bulls.h.i.+t, excuse my language.”
”No f.u.c.king problem,” Adele said.
He laughed. ”Right. He even had a couple of real live Russians to back it up.”
”Remember their names?”
”Boris and Natasha. I don't know. Man and a woman. Only met them once. They could speak Russian anyway.”
”You remember what they looked like?” Stacy asked.
”The woman was kinda pretty as I recall. I checked her out. Had a beaky nose. Not ugly beaky, sorta like Barbra Streisand. Dilly was all over her.”
”You think they were involved?”
”Him? Like I say, he always had something going on. I was never into that stuff. I was saving myself.”
”For marriage?” Adele was amused.
”No, s.h.i.+t, saving my strength. Wife and I were trying to have a baby. She was taking her temperature every five minutes. I'm telling you, I was on call day and night, and I'd better have the necessary inclinations.”
”Did it work?”
”Four kids. Two of each. Then she packed it in. That's plenty, she said. Get your tubes snipped, I'm retired.”
”What about the Russian man?” Stacy again.
”Him I don't remember. Just a guy. Dylan and the Russian woman were leaning on him pretty hard.”