Page 39 of Third Crime's A Charm
Truman frowned at Neville over a contract he was scrutinizing. “Him?”
Neville looked around to make sure they were still alone, then grinned at Truman. “Mr. von Hessen! I gave up and hid some tracking devices in his running gear and his jackets.”
“Really?” Truman sat forward, dropping the contract and gesturing impatiently for the envelope. It was promptly handed over and Neville clasped his hands behind his back as Truman pulled out a stack of black and white pictures and reports.
The first was of Matteo in what looked like Central Park, sitting on a bench and chatting with a man and his golden retriever. The next made Truman’s brows jump. Matteoappeared to be setting a paper bag on the bench. In the next picture, the other man was putting it in his grocery bag. The next few images were of Matteo sitting on the train. He was seated next to an attractive Black woman who might have been a trans woman or a highly-skilled drag queen, judging from her height, elaborate makeup, and hands. Truman couldn’t be sure but was more interested in the paper bag Matteo had dropped into her oversized handbag. The last four were of Matteo at a newsstand, buying cigarettes and exchanging pleasantries.
“Well done. What am I looking at?” Truman asked Neville, flipping through the images faster. Whoever the first man was, Matteo seemed more interested in the dog than the conversation. He had definitely passed the man a paper bag—most likely watches and jewels—before… Truman found a report detailing Matteo’s movements for the last two days and background information on his three contacts. Matteo had gone to a deli after meeting with Mark Heedy. “Is this the man with the dog, Mr. Heedy, Matteo’s fence?” Truman guessed, earning a gravelly chuckle from Neville.
“I thought he might be, at first,” Neville said, causing Truman to glare.
“Quit wasting my time.”
“Once I looked into Heedy, I had my break. I asked around and von Hessen usually delivers a bag like that to Heedy and the others. I think that woman, Tiffany, might be one of them trans ladies. She makes jewelry, some costume and some high end. She does a lot of work for the big shows and is popular with local fashion designers and some of the famous drag queens.”
“Impressive...” She was probably Matteo’s source for the replica. “We knew Matteo was prolific but this isefficientand using three different people to fence his goods is brilliant. Especially if she can take apart jewelry and make new pieces,” Truman mused but Neville shook his head.
“That’s the thing. They aren’t sending anything back!”
Truman’s neck swiveled. “What do you mean? Where’s the money going?”
“I didn’t get it at first and then I couldn’t believe it, so I verified it with several sources. Which was pretty easy once I knewwhereto look. They talk a lot about a certain fancy foreigner, in some pretty unexpected places. If you know what I mean,” Neville added with a suggestive cough.
“I don’t know what you mean and it’s getting on my nerves,” Truman warned.
“Right!” Neville held up his hands. “They love him in the trenches and down on Christopher Street.”
Truman frowned, shaking his head. “The trenches?”
“You know, where the rent boys and the dolls hang out and the queer shelters. Heedy’s a former rent boy and I thought he was fencing goods for von Hessen and pocketing the money. Then, I found out that Heedy runs a home for sex workers who want to go to school. They get free room and board and school is free as long as they keep up their attendance and their grades.That’swhat Heedy’s doing with the money. He used to scrape to find scholarships and pay tuitions until a certain prince arrived in Manhattan.”
“Matteo’s fucking Robin Hood?” Truman laughed, utterly shocked. Not that Matteo would help people in need, given his history. Butthatwas what he was hiding? And on that scale?
“No one’s supposed to talk about it, but it’s impossible to keep that kind of thing a secret. I was wondering how he was getting around the mafia gangs,” Neville said. “They usually want a cut, depending on whose turf you’re on. But von Hessen’s got a light touch there, too. He isn’t on anyone’s turf, he’s above it, and they can’t see anyone making money. No one’s watching the shelters or scholarships, except the government. And they don’t care as long as they get their take.”
Truman nodded. “Good news is hard to keep quiet, especially when it changes lives. He’s been cunning, targeting people who are too rich to notice or whowon’tgo to the police. Three different fences means that no one knows the scale of his operation or how much it’s bringing in, but based on this… He’s stolen millions, I’d wager.”
“Could be. You won’t get Heedy or anyone else to confirm that,” Neville predicted and Truman chuckled in agreement.
“Very smart, indeed. Keep following Matteo—in case he gets into trouble—but we’re done looking into his associates,” Truman said and dismissed Neville.
Every time Truman thought he had Matteo figured out, the rug was yanked out from under his feet. He knew better than to underestimate him or take anything at face value but Matteo had blindsided Truman again.
“He should have told me!”
Now that he knewwhy, Truman wasn’t as surprised that Matteo was Manhattan’s own Robin Hood. But why hide it from Truman? Matteo had to know that Truman would approve and possibly want to help. If one ignored the little matter of the crimes he was committing, Matteo was using his talents and the abundant resources around him to help some worthy causes.
Very worthy causes…
He had worthy causes to give the reward money to but Matteo also had his own reasons for needing a “get out of jail free” card.
“Is that why he doesn’t want me to know?” Truman stormed out of his office and into the hallway. “Matteo?” he called as he headed up the staircase to the fourth floor.
“What have I done this time?” he asked absently, his notepad in hand as he wandered out of the sitting room.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Heedy and the others?” Truman asked calmly but Matteo’s eyes flared.
“What do you know about Heedy and the others?” he asked as he prowled toward Truman, his lips pressing into a hard, flat line as his face turned red.
