Chapter Three – Sunday
At 5:30 the next morning both men rose and pulled on sweats and running shoes. After a brief warmup, they took off. Tony had run often through these streets, and he had a favorite route that he knew Gibbs would enjoy. The morning was fresh and cool, and, except for those who liked to go to worship early in the day, the streets were empty. Although Gibbs had come to Columbus fairly often to visit his friends, he had never seen the Ohio State University campus, so Tony toured him through it.
After 45 minutes both were feeling a little bit leaner and definitely invigorated. It had been a good run; they had chatted easily, exchanging probably more personal information and insights than they had in the five years Tony had been at NCIS. Gibbs had confided that, once he had determined to accompany Lauren back to Ohio, he had known instantly that he wanted Tony to come along. Tony was both surprised and flattered.
"For several reasons," Gibbs told him. "You can be one of the most annoying dipshits in the world at times, but you are one of the best investigators around, plus you have great people skills. I knew, of all the team, you'd fit in here the most easily. And then of course you are familiar with the place."
Gibbs had always given DiNozzo good performance reviews, guaranteeing his continued employment at NCIS, and those had always pleased the younger man. Somehow, though, the praise he received on this day meant more than anything anyone had ever said to him before. As they reached the Pellegrinis' house to shower, shave and dress, he thought to himself that this had been just about the best moment in his life.
By mutual agreement they had decided not to have breakfast at the Bullard house—too many people and too much food. Instead, they raided Rosa's kitchen, finding instant oatmeal in the cupboard, milk in the fridge, and bananas in a fruit bowl on the counter.
Refreshed, they set out once again for police headquarters. The squad room was not nearly as busy as it had been the day before. Anyone not working active cases would be taking the day off. Wojcewski was there, but neither Conway nor Widstrom would be in, she informed them. They took their seats at the desks they'd been assigned to and manned the phones again.
By now the news of Bob Bullard's murder had been widely circulated throughout the community; calls began coming in to the tip hotline. Most of these interviews were non-productive; most of the callers just wanted to feel like they were participating or being good citizens.
Tony was able to reach several more members of the Columbus Development Council's Advisory Board. As he had learned from Rietta Chase, the board was sharply divided as to what its mission should be, which was limiting its effectiveness. Those who had sided with Bullard felt that they were going to be steam-rollered into submission by the majority, who wanted to raze existing construction and build new stuff. They expressed a lot of bitterness about the murder, certain that it had been committed because of Bullard's involvement with the Advisory Board, and especially because he had been, if not the leader of their faction, at least one of the most vocal members of it. Several of Bullard's former colleagues expressed the opinion that what little zest they had had for the fight was now disappearing into a haze of unfocused fear for their own lives.
As for those on Gus Kaikonia's side, they mostly had perfunctorily nice things to say about Bullard, but also stated that they thought his position was neither practical nor beneficial to the city.
It began to seem to Tony more and more that Bob Bullard's death was the result of his being a member of the Advisory Board, that he, basically nothing more than a small (emphasis on the small) businessman, had made himself a target for the more powerful and greedy members of the Board. Tony mentioned this to Gibbs and Wojcewski. Gibbs especially was inclined to agree. Reviewing the list of board members, the three of them decided that they would need to conduct fairly extensive personal interviews with all of them, both those who were pro Bullard and those who were pro Krakonia.
Around 11:00 a.m. Tony was informed, to his surprise, that there was someone there to see him. He went to one of the interrogation rooms to find a tiny black woman with snow-white hair and huge Coke™ bottle glasses. She was dressed in what was obviously her Sunday-go-to-meeting outfit—a black silk dress and a wide-brimmed black straw hat decorated with brightly colored ribbons and bows.
She held out a hand sheathed in a white glove. "Agent DiNozzo?" she said with a broad smile full of gold teeth. "Ain't you just as pretty as you can be!"
Smiling but puzzled, DiNozzo shook her hand.
"Rietta Chase," she told him.
"Oh," he said, realizing who she was and shaking her hand with more cordiality. "What can I do for you?"
"Been thinkin' since we talked yesterday," she said, "and I remembered somethin' else so I sez to myself, ‘Rietta, just go on over to the police station tomorrow after church ‘n' see if you can talk to him face to face.' And here you are!" she finished triumphantly.
"Is there something special you want to tell me?" Tony inquired.
"Certainly is," she replied. "Don't know how I forgot about it before; it was pretty scary at the time."
Tony pulled out his PDA and prepared to take notes.
"Go on," he told her.
"Well, sir, we was havin' a meeting of the Board one evenin', and things was gettin' pretty hot and heavy. Bob was sayin' how, if we tear down all the old houses in this one block, we need to find housing for at least 60 people that're gonna be homeless. 'N' he said there ain't that many inexpensive places anywhere in town. ‘N' Gus Kaikonia, who makes a big show every year of giving money to the hospitals ‘n' such, sez those people can jist move somewhere else; it's not his problem. So Bob, he sez to Gus, all yer interested in is making money putting up those big crappy buildings of yers. Well, Gus, he goes all quiet all of a sudden, ‘n' he says ‘One o' these days, Bullard, somebody's gonna kill you ‘cause yer such a big pain in the ass, ‘n' it jist might be me.'"
Tony asked, "Did it sound like he was really making a threat, or was he just blowing smoke?"
"Sounded like a threat ta me," Rietta said. "We all know his reputation, which ain't so good. Nobody's ever pinned a murder on ‘im, but everybody knows"—she tapped a finger on her temple—"he's probably committed more than one." She nodded emphatically.
"Did anyone else hear him say that?"
"Oh, yeah, we was all twenty of us there. Everybody heard it."
Tony reviewed his notes briefly. "What about Mike Malone?" he asked Ms. Chase. "He was a part of Gus Kaikonia's group, too, wasn't he? Do you think…?"
Ms. Chase pursed her lips scornfully and shook her head, making the ribbons on her hat bob back and forth. "Oh, him. He ain't nuthin'. Jist this kind a greasy little guy. The real powerful guys like Gus Kaikonis don't have any truck with pimps like him."
"Couldn't he have been a threat to Bob?"
"Nobody paid any attention to him, not even Bob. Wouldn't worry ‘bout him if I was you."
Tony thought for minute. "At this point we don't have anything that would hold up in court," he told her. "But I'm making a note of this, and we'll check to see if the other board members remember Gus threatening Bob. It's information that may come in handy sooner or later."
Thanking Mrs. Chase for her help and cooperation, Tony showed her out and returned to Gibbs and Wojcewski with the news. They were not ready to dismiss Mike Malone entirely as a suspect, but they agreed that Ms. Chase's information strengthened the case against Kaikonis.
Gibbs and Tony left the office shortly before noon for the mall, stopping for a quick hot dog before heading to a men's store Tony had patronized often during his student days. "Not quite a tailor shop" was how Tony put it, "but definitely not K-Mart."
Tony immediately picked out a fashionably cut navy suit, which he matched with a crisp white shirt and a lusciously colored but subtle paisley tie. When he emerged from the fitting room, he saw that Gibbs was still pawing through the racks, showing definite signs of frustration.
"Here, let me look," Tony told him with amusement. Gibbs stood back while Tony pulled out a medium grey suit, which he held up against the older man. Then he picked a shirt striped in several shades of grey and a tie with regimental stripes of grey, cream, blue, and a sliver of red. Tony's amusement grew when Gibbs came out of the fitting room and everyone in the store stopped to look at the handsome silver-haired man in the very flattering outfit.
At the register, Gibbs blanched at the cost of the suit, but Tony reminded him that he was making a gesture of respect to one of his oldest and dearest friends. Meek but still grumbling slightly, he handed over his credit card.
Stowing the new suits in the trunk of the car, they headed out to Gus Kaikonia's place. His home was located in a section of town that was anything but blighted. The house turned out to be almost literally a Baroque palace, somewhat miniaturized, and carefully sequestered behind a gated iron fence. Made of some kind of grey stone, it dripped with carved curlicues and leaves like the decorations on a wedding cake. A graveled circular drive led through the emerald green lawn up to the column-framed front door.
Tony pulled up to the speaker at the front gate and pushed the button. After a few moments, the speaker crackled and a gruff voice said, "State your name and business."
"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo," Tony responded, "here to talk to Mr. Kaikonia about the murder of Bob Bullard."
There was a long pause before the gates swung open to admit them. As they pulled up at the front door, it opened, and a man wearing a black muscle t-shirt and khaki pants stepped out on to the porch. He resembled no one so much as Mr. Clean, all shoulders and biceps, but without the cheery twinkle. In fact, he looked just plain mean. He watched with a scowl as Gibbs and DiNozzo got out of the car and climbed the steps.
"Mr. Kaikonia is out by the pool," he informed them. Turning, he led them into the house and through the hall. The hall itself featured not one but two huge, multi-tiered crystal chandeliers, an intricately patterned floor of inlaid marble, and occasional tables and chairs that looked like antiques. Tony looked around appraisingly and told Gibbs, "This is even fancier than my mother's place."
At the other end of the hall, French doors led out to a patio featuring a large rectangular pool. A thin, bald man wearing swim trunks and a short terry robe lounged on a chaise with a small table nearby. On the table was a tray that held a pitcher and several glasses, along with a cell phone. At the far end of the pool, three very young, very blond, very slender women were desultorily tossing a beach ball back and forth among themselves.
"The agents, Mr. Kaikonia," Mr. Not-Clean informed the man on the chaise, who squinted up at them
"Always happy to cooperate with law enforcement. Have a chair," he invited.
Gibbs remained standing. DiNozzo, his most seductive smile in place, gazed at the three women and casually drifted toward them. Once within chatting distance, he began talking with them.
"So you wanna talk about Bob Bullard?" Kaikonia asked, keeping his eye on DiNozzo.
"Yup," answered Gibbs.
"You from Columbus police?"
"No," Gibbs said, "my associate and I are from NCIS, on special liaison with the local law agency."
"NCIS? What the hell is that?"
"Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We investigate any and all crimes that involve either Navy or Marine interests."
"No shit," Kaikonia exclaimed. "What's the connection with Bullard?"
"He was a marine and a friend of mine," Gibbs answered in a patient tone of voice.
"So whadya wanna know?"
"We know you and Bullard were both members of the Columbus Development Council Advisory Board and that the two of you disagreed pretty strongly on what the Development Council should be doing."
"You heard that, did you? Well, it's true. Most of us on the board feel that the only way the community will progress is if we remove all the blighted construction and replace it."
"Even if it means making people homeless?"
"There are other agencies to deal with that," Kaikonia answered, waving a hand dismissively.
"I've been told you profit personally from new construction."
"I'm in the construction business, and occasionally I bid on and am awarded some of these contracts."
Gibbs decided to try a slightly difference tack.
"Did you ever threaten Bob Bullard?"
Kaikonia, who up to this point had continued to watch the action near the pool, gave Gibbs a startled look.
"Who told you I did?"
"So you did threaten him," Gibbs stated.
Kaikonia's face was getting red. "I think I don't want to talk to you anymore without my lawyer."
Gibbs cocked his head. "Fine. Let him know we're gonna call you in for a little chat downtown." He turned to leave, saying, "We'll show ourselves out." He looked toward the pool and called, "DiNozzo!"
The younger man spent a couple of minutes saying goodbye to his new friends before following Gibbs back through the hall. As he passed the chaise, he tossed a wide-grinned "See ya around, Mr. Kaikonia," to the sputtering contractor
Once they were back in the car, Gibbs turned to DiNozzo. "So?"
"Their names are Marlene, Tina, and Chris. They live with Gus; he pays all their expenses. Their only responsibility is to be available to do whatever he wants them to do whenever he wants them to do it."
As he steered the car down the drive, he added, "Gus also spends a good chunk of his money on his gun collection. He has a special room on the second floor where all the walls are covered with all kinds of guns, and he has a worktable where he and Bozo the goon make their own bullets."
"Interesting," Gibbs said.
"I thought so," Tony replied with a satisfied smirk.
The two agents returned to the Pellegrini house to hang up their new clothes and clean up a bit before attending the viewing. Stopping at the Bullard house to let Neva know they were there, they grabbed a quick snack from the ever-groaning tables and then followed the family to the funeral home.
They were quiet in the car, both thinking back to the last funeral they had attended. That one had been really tough, Tony thought, burying someone they had both loved in their own ways, a friend, a colleague, the bratty but adorable little sister Tony had never had. He had never met Bob Bullard and therefore had no personal investment in his death, but Gibbs had just lost one of his best friends to a second bullet to the head. No one ever said life was fair, but sometimes it was less fair than usual. Tony glanced at Gibbs, who sat stony-faced across from him. Tony wondered what he was thinking.
What Gibbs was thinking about was Kate's funeral, coming as it had just after Ari the terrorist had finally met his well-deserved fate for killing her. He had grieved deeply and long for the young woman he had admired and loved so much for her courage and her spirit, and now here he was grieving again for a lost friend, with whom he had shared so many experiences throughout their long friendship. If he had to put up with much more, he thought, he might just have to quit what he was doing and find a hideout somewhere where he could be alone with his memories and not have to worry about being responsible for the weight of the world anymore.
The funeral home was full of people. Mourners streamed through the main chapel, leaving sympathy cards on a table and signing the guest book before passing through the receiving line to greet the family members. Nearby, on another table, were two photographs, one a recent business portrait of Bob and the other a wedding portrait of Neva and Bob. Having no official duties, Tony had ample time to study the two pictures. Bob Bullard, he discovered, had not been particularly handsome, but his face was pleasant and showed intelligence and purpose. Tony saw the father's reflection in the faces of his children.
Lauren stood near her mother, seeming very adult in her graciousness. Eric hung back, hugging the wall, only coming forward when his mother asked him to. Lance, puppy-like, roamed energetically throughout the room, stopping to chat with the visitors he knew, but also returning frequently to Tony's side to ask questions or make comments.
Finally the hours crept along to the end of the viewing time, and with sighs of relief, the family was able to return home for a late supper. Several of Lance's friends had gathered to make as big a dent as they could in the mountain of food. After eating, Lance invited Tony to join them in a quick basketball game before they all turned in early to rest in preparation for the next day.
Returning to the Pellegrini house, Gibbs and DiNozzo once more encountered Rosa urging them to eat more cheesecake. They accepted but took only relatively small pieces, chatting with Rosa and Piero as they ate.
It had been a long and busy day. They fell into their beds, grateful for the opportunity to rest.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.