Barbara Lefka - The Cult of the White Owl

CHAPTER

Jake Giuliani, Philadelphias Top Cop, was lounging on his back porch enjoying the balmy spring weather. He sipped on his ice-cold bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer while watching the smoke trail from his cigarette in the ashtray. His eyes were half closed and his mind drifted mesmerized by the smoke spirals.

This he concluded was the life, the lilacs were in bloom filling the air with their sensuous perfume, and he inhaled deeply, sipping his beer from the nearly empty bottle. The sun was just going down behind the trees at the edge of his garden and a soft breeze was rustling their leaves, making it sound as though they were having a conversation, deciding the fate of the world.

Jake stretched his long frame, looking downward to his brown loafers thinking his time at the gym was really paying off. His mind wandered to Annie and the late night they enjoyed. Annie Carr, his aide at headquarters. At first he had serious misgivings about involving himself with someone with whom he worked so closely. But Annie allayed his fears about any conflicts. She was a model of efficiently, and knew their occasional dates were not indicative of a relationship. No pressure there. Still he loved the way her blonde curls wrapped around his fingers when he caressed the back of her neck. She would look up at him, her copper colored eyes searching his, for what? Whatever it was, she did not find it in his dark eyebrow shadowed blue eyes.

Jake looked at his watch and rose from the Adirondacks wooden chair he had been reclining in with a yawn, and went into the house. The telephone was harshly ringing, spoiling his mood. He was tempted not to answer at all. He wanted a shower, a steak and no interruptions. Jake had a ring-side seat for the championship-boxing match at the Arena on Market Street. He did not want to miss this particular heavy weight bout. He had a C-note on the champ even though he was a 3 to1 underdog. The champs age and his opponents record were against him, but, he still had the finesse of a great boxer, if his legs held up.

Rocky, his opponent was more of a slugger; he won all his fights by a knockout. This was his first encounter against the champ in a title match.

Jake took out his ticket and put it on the kitchen counter. He started undressing and kicked off his loafers, whistling to himself he headed for the downstairs shower.

The telephone persisted its annoying sound, but he kept walking to the bathroom stark naked now, and turned on the hot water perfect he smiled.

Jake was toweling off when the phone started ringing again, or did it ever stop? He wrapped the towel around his narrow hips and reached for the receiver, Guiliani, he answered. Mayor? Jake was surprised at the unexpected call. What can I do for you? Your wife is missing? What do you mean missing? Okay missing. Ill be right over, try to stay calm. Ill be right there.

He slammed the phone on its cradle and hurriedly ran up the stairs to get dressed. He pulled on jeans and a light blue cashmere sweater. He looked around for his loafers, and then remembered they were in the kitchen. Jake scrambled down stairs, slipped into his loafers, grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Remembering the fight ticket on the counter, he went back for it. Haste makes waste, he thought. Jake glanced in the mirror, he saw his hair was still mussed up from the shower and hurriedly ran a comb through his close-cropped black hair still advancing toward the door. Adrenalin flowed through his veins as he rushed to the detached garage and into his 1956 black Packard car compliments of the city of Philadelphia, Pa. He slid into the soft leather of the drivers seat and started the engine. The cars 8-cylinder engine purred to life in a heartbeat. He was on his way to the mayors house on the Philadelphia Main Line a very prestigious neighborhood. A short distance from where Chief Detective Jake Guiliani of the Philadelphia police force lived, but far above his pay grade. This being a Saturday, the traffic was light and Jake made good time driving across town, wondering what that ditzy dame was up to now!

The mayor, Gerald Woods is a good guy and always stands behind Jake as his chief of detectives, he supports all Jakes decisions to make Philadelphia safe for the citizens, the law-abiding ones anyway.

Mrs. Caterina Woods was another story, she met Gerald when he was on tour with his Army unit in Russia and she dug her claws in deep. He adored her, would do most anything she asked and she asked for plenty. Caterina was quite a bit younger than Gerald, which she used to her advantage. She was poor as dirt in Russia, during what was laughingly called the reconstruction. She saw her chance to get out by marrying Gerald and she took it. Gerald was Colonel Woods back then, he pulled strings and married her right there outside the Kremlin in what used to be a Russian Orthodox Church. The church was so picturesque, a miniature St. Basils with its onion domes in vibrant colors. An Army chaplain married them in that lovely church, and they had their reception in the Non-Commissioned Officers Club because Colonel Woodss men wanted to celebrate with him. He was that kind of man, down to earth, a team player. His soldiers would have been shocked to know he came from wealth, dairy cows in the rich grasslands around Brandywine. The farm, acres of it, has been in the Woods family for generations. Gerald, Gerry to his friends, was not a farmer; he left that to a team of experts who kept the farm in the black and the cows healthy and producing. His love was politics and he used his money, a winning smile, his free and easy style of speaking plus his war record to get him elected mayor. However, his eye was on the governorship eventually.

Now this! Jake thought.

Where is this coming from, an enemy, a shake down, revenge? Jake pondered while he drove the big car expertly through the light traffic. Damn probably there goes my evening at the Arena. I guess Ill find out soon enough. Here I am. Jake thought as he pulled into the front driveway of the large redbrick colonial house. He went up the few steps to the lacquered black front door and started to raise the brass knocker, when the door was thrust open to reveal the haggard face of the mayor.

So glad to see you man! Cat is gone, disappeared, kidnapped, or worse.

When I came home from the office she wasnt home. She is always here, waiting for me. I searched the house; everything is still here; her car, her coat, bag, wallet, everything, and no trace of her!

Gerry put his hand on Jakes arm, exhausted from the strain of his last few hours. Jake led him onto a chair in the living room and poured them both a drink from a convenient decanter of scotch whisky. The mayor though once a teetotaler was now quite a heavy drinker.

Do you think she might be at a neighbors? Jake asked, trying to get his thoughts around this unexpected problem within the law enforcement community.

I havent wanted to ask anybody, I only called you, for some reason I am ashamed! Gerry blurted out, biting his lip. She does not know the neighbors, she would never visit them, under any circumstances.

What do you have to be ashamed of, dont go there! There is nothing! Concerned for his friend and boss, Jake poured another drink, but not for himself. He needed a clear head. This was getting complicated.

Could someone have picked her up for shopping or visiting?

Or has anyone contacted you for a ransom or left you a note or telephoned? Anything? Jake queried.