Deadly Assets (Badge of Honor 12)

“To answer your question, Ed, I met with Constantine last week following a PEGI meeting.”

Stein nodded. Finley had pronounced the acronym Peggy; it stood for Philadelphia Economic Gentrification Initiative.

“Aha,” Stein said, “and like the Public Safety Committee, Badde also serves on the Housing and Urban Deve

lopment Committee.”

“Not only on it. The city council president appointed him as its chairman. HUD’s PEGI is his baby—remember, that was his excuse for going with that hot young assistant of his, Janelle Harper, on a ‘fact-finding mission’ to the conference in Bermuda.”

Stein chuckled. “Where he and said assistant were photographed rolling on the beach wearing little more than grins. Taxpayer-paid assistant, I might add. She gets a hundred and eighty grand, almost twice his council salary. And you have to give him credit for avoiding any divorce papers being served when he came back.”

Finley snorted.

“Well, don’t give him too much credit. Word on the street about that is the wife, Wanda, booted him out of their very nice house while she considers her options. I think she’s a lawyer, too.”

“Then she should know that divorce court judges in Pennsylvania,” Stein said, “like those in many other states, don’t want to hear the word infidelity—or even ‘alienation of affection.’”

“Oh, really?”

“They’ve decided that if cheating on a spouse were the basis for finding fault and awarding assets, the courts would be clogged far worse than they are now. The judges send the warring parties to arbitration with instructions not to think about coming near the courthouse until they’ve reached a signed settlement.”

“Huh. Well, I’m sure, like a lot of wives, she has some other dirt on him. Or can dig it up, which would fall under ‘considers her options.’”

“That would be interesting.”

“Yeah, as is the fact,” Finley went on, “that PEGI is at least knee-deep, if not up to its neck, in the Volks Haus and Diamond Development projects.”

Again Stein nodded thoughtfully. He knew that the city, which was to say the Philadelphia Economic Gentrification Initiative, had demolished multiple blocks of housing in the upper end of the Northern Liberties neighborhood. The demolition was to make way for a giant multiple sports stadium—a project of Diamond Development—and it had forced residents from their decrepit row houses and taken ownership of the properties using the strong-armed provisions of Eminent Domain.

To temper the blow to those who were displaced—as well as to keep other of Badde’s constituents happy—PEGI promised to offer low-rent housing in its new Volks Haus. The “People’s House” would be built in the Fairmount area, only a few miles west of their old neighborhood.

Stein said, “Weren’t there dead bodies discovered inside when the wrecking crew tore down those last row houses?”

“Yeah, maybe two, three men? They were holdouts remonstrating about being forced to leave after their landlords had to sell to PEGI. I think that they’re part of this year’s three hundred sixty-something total count.”

“Then they were murdered?”

“If I recall correctly, the police could not find what had killed them—except maybe that twenty-ton wrecking ball that the first resident became snagged on. The deaths were ruled as suspicious.”

“Strange.”

Finley raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Much like PEGI itself, Ed. Or I should say Badde. I haven’t quite figured out the whole thing. Not that I really have time to do that. But something about it isn’t kosher. The more I’m around that, the more uncomfortable I get. Still, I’m committed to working with Constantine on the future marketing of the Diamond Development stadium. And he’s the one stuck working with Badde.”

“And so he has his cell phone number.”

Finley put his fingertips on the legal pad and spun it so that what he had written on it was right-side up to Stein.

“And now you do. This could well be a case of ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you damn sure may get it.’”

Stein met Finley’s eyes.

“Dumb question, James?”

“There are no dumb questions.”

“How come you’re doing this?”