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“But maybe he didn’t destroy it,” Dmitri said. “I’m telling you, he loved this car. It was totally irreplaceable, absolutely one of a kind. Maybe he couldn’t make himself get rid of it.”
“Ok. But even if he kept it, he would have cleaned it up, of course.”
Dmitri said, “Of course. He’d have gotten the blood cleaned out of it, that sort of thing. But what if there was some evidence left behind that couldn’t be eradicated? What if the car itself is somehow linked to the crime? All the knives in it were custom-made for the vehicle, for example, so maybe the murder weapon can be traced right back to the car. I mean, who knows? I’m grasping at straws here.”
“I still don’t think he’d keep a smoking gun lying around,” I said. “If that car really was a crime scene, then it’s probably been destroyed. Your uncle wouldn’t be that careless.”
“But Jamie, he still has the key,” Dmitri said.
“So maybe he’s hung on to it out of a sense of nostalgia,” I guessed. “Or maybe it’s not even the same key.”
Dmitri shook his head. “My uncle doesn’t do nostalgia. And if Catherine says it’s the key to the Packard, then that’s exactly what it is. When we were kids, it was her job to steal the key so we could play in the car, and she knew exactly how to recognize it among the thirty some-odd keys on her father’s key ring.”
“How did she even know to look for it? Why would it even have stood out to her today in the office?” I asked.
Dmitri smiled at that. “Catherine and I talk about that car all the time. Like I said, we were both in love with it. We joke that we’ll track it down some day, and then we’ll arm wrestle for who gets to be the Green Hornet and who gets to be Kato. She would definitely notice that key. And if there’s still a key, maybe there’s still a car.”
I looked at my dad. “Do you remember anything about a Packard in the Pasteretti case?”
“Yeah. We searched all Sokolov’s vehicles, everything that was registered in his name. We had anecdotal evidence from his neighbors that he owned a ’29 Packard, but there wasn’t one registered to him. From what I’m hearing, it probably wasn’t registered because the car was far from street-legal with all those weapons. Anyway,” my father said, shifting his weight in his chair, “When we brought up the Packard to Sokolov, he said it was at the mechanic’s and he’d get it for us. But what he produced was an ordinary black Packard. It didn’t have all these bells and whistles like Dmitri is talking about. Still though,” my father said, “that car was one hell of a sweet ride. That’s why I remember it.”
“So it wasn’t really his car,” my mother exclaimed. “He produced a phony to cover his tracks!” This whole thing had my mom totally excited, her eyes bright with the prospect of busting this case wide open. Clearly there was one more Nolan that should have gone into law enforcement.
I said, “If the car does still exist, and even if we somehow found out its location, we couldn’t get a warrant without tipping off Sokolov. It would give him time to move or destroy it.”
“Oh, we can get a warrant,” my father told me. “I know how to go through secure channels, don’t you worry about that.” He shot a look at Dmitri. “But I still want the names of those crooked cops, kid.”
“Yes, sir,” Dmitri said. “I’ll make it my personal mission to get them for you.” He was sucking up big time. I couldn’t help but grin. And then he was grinning too. “Actually, I just thought of a way to get those names for you tonight. Jamie, can I use your phone again?”
“Absolutely.” I handed the phone over, and he concentrated on typing a text message. I wondered what that was about.
After a few texts back and forth he turned to me, chewing his lip. And he said, “So, Jamie…maybe you want to stay at your parents’ house tonight,” as he handed my phone back to me.
“Why? What’s up?”
“I don’t like the idea of you alone in your apartment, now that we know you’re on my uncle’s radar. And I’m going to be using my house to obtain the names of Sokolov’s crooked cops tonight. Obviously, I don’t want you mixed up in anything illegal, so I think you should stay here.” He was again chewing his lip as he watched my reaction closely.
“Explain to me exactly what you’re planning,” I said.
Dmitri glanced nervously at my mother and said, “Forgive me, Mrs. Nolan, if this gets kind of vulgar.” He turned his attention back to me and said, “I asked Catherine to bring Joe Rudin home with her tonight and tie him to her bed. Undoubtedly, he’ll go along with it. I mean, Catherine’s a beautiful girl, and, you know, he’ll be thinking he’s about to get lucky.” Dmitri cleared his throat and said, “So, once he’s a captive audience, Catherine and I are going to get the information out of him.”
