by Thomas Laird
*
Sandy Rosales leaves behind a mother and a father and three siblings who haven’t seen her in four years. They come to claim her remains after we’re done with what’s left of her. The eye-ball identification wasn’t done for obvious reasons, and her family was lucky they didn’t have to suffer that indignity. McCaslin made the indignity by savaging her. I feel the blood in my cheeks as I watch them follow the hearse. It’ll be closed casket, naturally.
*
“I stopped counting,” Doc says.
It’s Friday, the day of the big-ass storm. We’re supposed to get at least eighteen inches of snow. The only good thing about this crap is that McCaslin won’t be doing any tooling out of town, unless he’s got a fucking snowmobile. So he’s somewhere in the environs, and I feel confident that we haven’t lost him yet.
“Stopped counting what?” I ask my partner as we both see the first of the flurries that will herald the more serious shit coming in late this afternoon. I told Erin I might be stuck down here all night.
Doc points to the names in red.
“The list just keeps getting longer,” he says with a quick sigh. “How many more can he accomplish?”
“The weather’ll put a crimp in his production. It’s got to.”
“Thank God for mother freaking nature.”
“No use trying to take a tour later. Might as well hit the streets in the few hours we got before the main course comes down on us.”
We head to the elevators and then go downstairs into the parking area and get in our car and then head out onto the faintly white streets. We’ve got the whole city to look for him, probably all of Cook County. We tried squeezing his cousin, once more, and Doc threatened a visit to his butcher joint from the Health Department, but the cousin has a history of being a street thug, so it didn’t faze him, the way neither of us figured it would. If we closed him down, he’d sell his shit black market, out on the street off the tail end of a truck.
This prick and his whole tribe are alike, except that they’re not all serial killers. Just thieves, mostly.
We take a ride past Old Town, his usual haunts, but we don’t expect him to be around. Yet these assholes love to frequent their old hunting grounds. It’s funny how they keep coming back.
After an hour and a half of futility, the snow starts to come down in white sheets, and the streets are filling with slush, and the snow plows are out already, trying to keep up with what’s supposed to come.
Doc and I head back to the Loop, and the car fishtails a half dozen times on the way back to the parking lot at Headquarters. We take the elevator back up to my office, our usual hangout, and then we both back into our chairs and look out the window at Lake Michigan as the powder comes down heavier and heavier.
Chapter 32
Mary O’Connor, 1981
All I can do now is talk to Barry on the phone. I have to hope the payphone is available down at the end of the floor where I’m living. If it’s tied up, I have to take the elevator down to the lobby and then hope that phone is free. The hall payphone has a little more privacy because not as many people walk by, and so I feel freer to talk to him.
I’m at the floor’s telephone now, and it’s three in the afternoon on a Saturday, and I’m going nuts because I’ve been stuck here since Jimmy told me he wanted me to stay inside. I understand he wants to protect me, but it’s tough to see no one and talk to no one, especially not to be able to see or talk to Barry Gold.
“My arm’s out of the cast,” he tells me.
“That was quick, wasn’t it?”
“The doctor said I was a quick healer.”
“That’s great, Barry.”
“I…I miss you. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I know. I miss you, too, very much.”
“This weather isn’t helping.”
“It’s more than the weather.”
“I know, Mary. I wish they’d get him. I wish he was in jail, and I hate to say it but I wish he was dead.”
“Jail’d be good enough, wouldn’t it?” I ask him.
“Not really. As long as he’s alive, there’s always a chance….I know I shouldn’t wish anybody dead.”
“That’s his thing, anyway. Death, I mean.”
“I know you’re right,” he says. “I miss you so much.”
“The snow’ll stop, and they’ll find him. Detective Parisi promised me they’d find him soon.”
“When can I see you? Is there any way you can get out of there?”
“Everything’s snowed in, Barry. Look out your window.”
“You’re making me nuts.”
I have to laugh at him. He’s so terribly sincere.
“What’s funny?”
“Don’t get mad at me,” I tell him.
“We’re never going to get mad at each other. Never.”
“How likely is that?” I laugh.
“I’m very amusing, huh?”
“In a good way. I love how intense you get.”
“It seems like you’ve been away for longer than a week.”
“If I could sneak out of here I would, but I’ve got a policeman in the room next to me.”
“Do you ever see him?”
“Once in a while. He’s always around. Actually it’s three of them, eight hours at a time for each one.”
“They must have to go to the bathroom.”
“Barry, there’s a car with two of them at the curb, all day and night.”
“That has to be boring.”
“Listen, the buses aren’t even running.”
“They say it might end, tonight.”
I don’t answer him because I want to see him as much as he wants to see me, but Jimmy would really be pissed if I wandered out of here, even if the snow stopped and the buses started to run again.
“We’ll see what happens when it stops. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“I’m not making any promises, but I’ll see.”
“You could stay here at the house. My mother and father got stuck in Dallas, Texas, visiting my uncle. Flights won’t be headed here until at least Monday.”
“It’s Saturday, Barry. That wouldn’t give us much time.”
“It’d give us at least a day if you could sneak out early Sunday. Soon as this stops the plows’ll make the streets passable, the news said.”
“Now you’re making me crazy, too, Barry.”
“Maybe it’s not a good idea. Maybe I’m just being selfish.”
“There’s nothing selfish about us getting together.”
“I’d like to make it permanent, you know?”
“You’re rushing it. Don’t force things. I made a huge mistake with the last guy. I don’t want that to ever happen again.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“Of course, I know that. But I don’t want to charge into anything as fast as I did before. No matter how right this all seems.”
“You know where I’m at, at least.”
“I want to be with you, and I will. Just let things unravel here. Let the snow stop and let the police find him, and then nothing will get in the way of letting it happen natural, Barry. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll call you later, around nine. Be at that phone, okay?”
“I’ll be here. I haven’t got anywhere else to go, remember?”
He says goodbye, and I do, too.
*
The snow starts to taper about 6:00 P.M. I listen to the radio, and I hear them say it’s about to stop coming down and that city services is starting to plow their way through the drifts. We’ll wind up with about twenty-three inches. The buses might be running around midnight, at least on the major streets in the city. They got volunteer plows from over in Gary, Indiana, who missed the storm altogether. The storm ran a corridor from southeastern Illinois all the way up to northwestern Wisconsin.
I think I want to surprise Barry and try to get over to h
is place after midnight. When I get there, I’ll call Jimmy and tell him where I am—but not until Barry and I get some alone time together. They’ll probably figure out where I’ve gone about midday Sunday. The cop next door never bothers to check on me during the middle of the night, so he won’t know I’m gone until the middle of the morning at least, and so maybe Barry and I can have the better part of the night before the police come drag me back here. Jimmy will be angry, but he’ll understand and he’ll forgive me, I hope.
All I have to worry about is that Casey McCaslin doesn’t come looking for me before Jimmy does. There won’t be any forgiveness from McCaslin.
*
At midnight I look out the window and I see that the snow has completely ceased. The stars are out, and I see some headlights on the street, and then I see a plow go by and then another one right after it.
I get up and get dressed. I put on the warmest jacket I own, and I pull a stocking cap over my ears. I make sure my hair’s all up inside the cap. Then I open my door as quietly as I can and check the hallway. It looks as if everyone is inside their rooms, and hopefully asleep. The cop next door comes out and checks things about every half hour. He roams the halls and checks the stairways, too. If I’m lucky, I can catch him between his rounds.
I creep down the hall on my toes. I take my shoes off until I clear the hallway and make it to the stairs. I won’t use the elevator because it makes too much noise, and it traps you all the way down to the lobby.
I make it to the stairwell, and then I put my shoes back on and begin the descent. I make it to the lobby, and I see a pair of girls about to go outside. They’re about my age, maybe twenty years old, at the most.
“Hey,” I call to them. “Can you do me a favor?”
The taller one with the blonde hair looks at me.
“Like what?”
“Could you go out to the squad car and just ask the cops some kind of question—like if the buses are running?”
“I guess we could,” the brunette next to her says. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I’m trying to get past them. They’re here watching me, but I really need to see my boyfriend, and they’re not gonna let me out of here, and I really want to—“
“You want to see your boyfriend on a rotten night like tonight?” the blonde asks.
“Please?” I ask them both.
They look at each other.
“I think it’s romantic as hell,” the brunette giggles. “We’ll do it. Wait here a minute.”
They walk out in tandem and make a straight line for the passenger’s side of the squad. They must be figuring that both cops will look over to that side of the car and that they won’t be looking at me on the sidewalk as I go out the door.
I wait until I see the copper at the driver’s side swivel his head toward the pair of girls, and then I scoot out the entry and trot down the street, headed north, toward the bus stop, two blocks away. All the way down the street, I’m praying that a bus will actually stop there looking for riders. It might be too early, I tell myself. They might not be running this route yet. It might not be until daylight that things get back to normal, and I’ve got to cross town to get to Barry’s house. It seems like a long shot, and then if I screw up and no bus shows, I’ve got a long walk back to the YWCA, and they’ll catch me sure, trying to get back in. Then Jimmy will really be pissed and they might decide to lock me up somewhere. I wouldn’t blame Parisi if he did lock me up.
But I love Barry so much I have to see him. We’ve never made love before. He’s been such a ridiculous gentleman about everything, and then we’ve really never had a place to go to be together that way. We’ve spent most of the time just talking and being together, with an occasional kiss. I just have to touch him. It’s almost as if he’s afraid to touch me back because he’s worried if he makes a move on me I’ll think he’s just like Casey—all he wants me for is fucking.
I know better, and I told him so.
I make the bus stop, but I’m too nervous to sit on the bench, but it’s snow-covered anyway.
It’s 12:35, and I don’t see headlights anywhere in either direction.
I wait another ten minutes, and I’m wondering how long I can wait out in the cold and thigh high snow before I’ll have to turn back to the YWCA. It’s lucky someone shoveled or blew the drifts off the sidewalks, but there was a path you could walk on all the way here. I don’t know if it was the city or the residents who did it, but it was done.
Ten minutes more pass, and then I see a figure approaching me from the south. It’s big enough to be a man, I think. He’s about a half block away, and then I see headlights. The vehicle is too big to be a car, and then I see clearly that it’s CTA, and he’s headed right for the stop.
I look south, and the dark figure is a quarter block from me. The bus pulls to a halt, and I get aboard and put in the money. The door whooshes behind me, and as I take a seat, I look out the window and see that same black figure continuing on his way down the block, headed north.
It’s warm in here, and there are only three or four other passengers. No one must know they’re up and running, and it is the middle of the night.
I transfer to head west, about two miles up the route, and my luck holds out. The next bus hauls me and two other riders all the way to 95th and Cicero. It’s a four block walk to Barry’s house from there. The driver says this is about as close as I’ll be able to get to Barry’s address, after I tell him where Barry lives.
I get out and hoof it, but I’m not as lucky, this time. The snow is pristine and deep, and no one’s been out to move it. It’s like wading through light weight sand. It takes me twenty minutes to walk two blocks. Then I have to stop and catch my breath. There’s no one on the streets, though, so I don’t have to keep looking for any more dark outlines coming my way.
Casey couldn’t possibly know I’d be dumb enough to come out on a night like this. He’d think I was still letting the cops keep the wolf out of my backyard. And it probably would’ve been the smart move if I just stayed at the Y. They will catch him, and the snow has stopped, and still I just had to come all the way out here because I couldn’t stand another minute being locked up in that soft cell, back at my room at the YWCA.
It takes another twenty minutes to burrow my way to his house. Then I kick my way through the drift in front of his place, and I finally get onto his porch. The porch, at least, has been cleared, and I’m exhausted. I barely have the strength to press his doorbell.
The lights are out in the house, but after I push the buzzer twice more, a light comes on. Then I see Barry through his front window. The porch light comes on, and I see him through the slit of glass in the front door. He sees me, and then the door swings open, and he’s got me in a bear hug that takes my breath away, and he kisses me and pulls me inside. The kiss lasts so long that I begin to drip water onto the carpet. He helps me get all the clothing off except for my blouse and panties, and he carries the rest into a bathroom to hang up to dry.
I don’t say a word to him, and I clamp him about the neck and head us to where I think his bedroom is. It must be the place with the light on, I figure, and I’m right. We flop on his messed up bed with the covers tossed aside, and he pulls me next to him.
“Jesus, you’re frozen.”
Then he pulls me over onto my back, and he continues his slow, gentle strokes into me, and I feel the tears course down my cheeks and he tells me not to cry, not ever to cry, and I smile and tell him that it’s just happiness and that I never knew what happiness was like, not ever, and then he begins.
We’re sweating together and onto each other, and the coldness from the walk through all that winter has left me altogether, and it’s as though I’ve arrived in some tropical place, like some island in the South Pacific like Hawaii or Tahiti, one of those places I’ve only seen on TV.
“I love you. Remember?” he says softly.
“I love you, too. I really love you.”
*
&nb
sp; When I wake up, it’s five o’clock. I wonder why we haven’t heard the cops at the door. They’re going to know I’m not there, at least in a few hours. I should call Jimmy to come get me. Pissed or not, I know he will. He’s my friend, and we both know it. He’s like the older brother I never had, and Doc is like my uncle. They’re not just being policemen with me. I think they both give a shit what happens to me. I’m sorry I betrayed their trust, but I love Barry so much that I’d do any crazy fool thing to be with him.
Barry wakes up and wants more.
So do I.
Chapter 33
Casey McCaslin, 1981
I stole a car and followed her bus all the way here. I parked the beater down the street after the snowplow opened the way for me. She had to hoof it to the kid’s house. I could see her tracks all the way to his place.
Before I can attempt to break into the house through the front door, I see her in front of me. I hit her flush in the face, and she’s about to crumple, but I grab her instead and hoist her over my shoulder and I leave that front door flapping open. I hurry her down to the new beater, the Pontiac that I boosted.
I get her thrown inside the backseat on her face, and then I get out the duct tape and bind her wrists and her ankles behind her. Then I yank her head up by her hair and I seal off her pretty mouth. Finally I throw an old blanket over her to conceal her on the ride back to the basement apartment. As I’m pulling away from the curb, I see Barry Gold running at me trying to catch up with me. I hear one of his hands thump on the passenger’s door as I speed away on the icy side street, but my tires make purchase, and I leave him behind in the street, screaming at me and his lost piece of ass.
I drive around and around until I’m too concerned about the Gold kid calling the cops and giving them the make and license of this car. Finally I pull up in front of my cousin’s apartment building, and I leave her locked in the car, and I go inside and roll up the big throw rug on the living room floor. It’s going to be very chancy to get her into the rug and here inside the apartment, but I have to get rid of that car before the cops spot it.