Drug Affair

by Rick Polad

  “No. Doesn’t make any sense. One guy robbing one or two places I can see. But split eight ways?”

  I picked up the second half of my roast beef sandwich. “Maybe it was practice.”

  He ate and looked at me sideways with raised eyebrows.

  “Don’t look at me like that. Maybe there is something else planned, and they needed to know how the police would react in such a scenario.”

  “Scenario, eh? Who you been hangin’ around with? You’ve been watchin’ too much television. The whole neighborhood’s full of little ma and pop stores.”

  “Maybe not that neighborhood.” I finished a big bite and the rest of the beer. “Or maybe it was a diversion. No other reports?”

  “Nope. Just the eight.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m goin’ with… a diversion for something bigger, like a bank or a jeweler. They wanted to know how you’d respond. And they hit at a shift change.”

  “I’m glad you’ve got it all worked out. Three officers called in sick this morning, so I jumped in a car. Nonstop all day.”

  “You know, some guys actually work every day.”

  I got a look.

  “Speaking of not working, how’s your case going?”

  “Aside from pissing off several people, there’s not much.”

  “Who you pissin’ off now?”

  “Well, there was Thward, and I’ve got a senator not too happy with me.” I told him about my visit to his office and the temple dedication.

  “When you need someone to bail you out, don’t call me. You want another beer?”

  “Sure.”

  He took the bottles and plates into the kitchen and returned with two more.

  “But I found a lead.” I told him about Halley and the surveillance at 211.

  “I don’t have friends in Highwood. Watch your butt.” He took a long drink and then shook his head. “And I voted for that bastard.”

  “Me too.”

  “Be careful, Spencer. People don’t get to be senators without a whole lotta clout and friends in the right places. That buys them a lot of power that out-rules little things like laws.”

  “Noted. Cards?”

  “If you don’t mind, I gotta pass tonight. I’m beat. I’m gonna turn in early.”

  “No problem. We’ll pick it up on Saturday.”

  “So, the suspected drug dealer is your only lead?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Pretty much?”

  “It’s not really a lead, but I’ve got an idea.”

  “Which is?”

  “Which is not something I want to share at the moment. It’s not the best idea I’ve ever had.”

  He laughed. “Most of your past ideas weren’t exactly by the book. But somehow things worked out.”

  “Yeah, well this time nothing is working out. I’m still waiting for the Lord to provide.”

  “Ah, your silent partner. Speaking of which, you seen the nun lately?”

  “Nope. But another breakfast isn’t a bad idea.”

  “Watch yourself, kid. She’s married.”

  We chatted for another twenty minutes while I finished my beer, and I left him to his beauty sleep.

  Chapter 27

  I got up at five thirty Thursday morning and took a cup of coffee out onto the deck. The sky was overcast, and there was a smell of rain in the air. The sky had lightened a bit, but that was it. The radio was playing in the kitchen. The Cubs had defeated the Giants in a split-squad preseason game the day before, 10-6… lots of pitchers’ duels in the preseason. I had considered going south for breakfast but decided that time on the deck listening to the birds was a better idea. But I did want to check in with Sister Katherine and decided on Friday.

  When the drizzle started I went back in and listened to the silence. After three years, that was something I hadn’t gotten used to. It had become a part of the house, just like the pictures on the wall. I could almost reach out and touch it. Both Stosh and Rosie had told me to sell the house and get my own place, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. There were memories I didn’t want to let go of. Maybe someday. I walked through the kitchen into the living room and sat down next to the snack table that held the chess board. Dad and I had always had a running game. This one was frozen in time. He was ahead by a knight and two pawns, but I had a strategy to expose his castled king. Rosie had suggested I have someone finish the game with me. Maybe that was a good idea, but not yet.

  I decided to get some house chores done and go into the office late-morning. I thought that plan would be changed when the phone rang a little after nine. I figured 211 had finally come home. But it was Carol, telling me Larry Maggio wanted to meet with me at two. I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “In the past I’ve refused to drink with him because it was before noon.”

  “I’ve never known you to drink before noon, so that wasn’t a sacrifice.”

  “Well, it was a little one… it was Glenfiddich.”

  There was a bit of a pause on her end.

  “Glen what?”

  I laughed again. “It’s a single malt Scotch whiskey. Hard to find anything better.”

  “I’ll take your word for that. So is two good?”

  “It is... thanks. I was going to come in, but now I’ll just head downtown.”

  “Well then, I’ll ask you now. I’m wondering if we can get a computer.”

  Now there was a pause on my end.

  “A computer. The IBM isn’t good enough?” I had read some articles about computers. Seemed like a good step forward, but some said they needed to get some bugs fixed before they really caught on. Some said they never would. But some had said that to Ford.

  “IBM is leading the way. Even they think the Selectric isn’t good enough.”

  “Why don’t you look into to it and get some prices. We’ll chat next time I’m in. I’m all for improving the lives of my personnel.”

  “Which would be me.”

  “Exactly. You’re so good, sometimes I think I have a staff of three.”

  “Whew. That reminds me… Watson needs to go out. Have fun with Maggio.”

  I put a few things away and wondered what the Chicago crime boss wanted this time. Our relationship in the past had ranged from my being kidnapped to his helping me solve a case. It was hard to know what to expect. I didn’t like the coincidence of the timing. Drugs were certainly a big part of his business.

  ***

  Traffic was light, and I got to his high-rise building fifteen minutes early, so I walked down the block thinking and wondering if there was something I had missed. If this was about my case, there was something that interested Larry Maggio. And if there was, I should already have seen the connection. After all, I was the detective. But walking didn’t help. I couldn’t see it. Just as I got back to his building it started to drizzle. I walked to the elevators, waited for a door to open, and punched twenty-two. It let me off in front of the glass wall that was Maggio’s office.

  The same friendly receptionist was at the front desk. She told me Mr. Maggio was ready for me, and I could go in.

  Two men were in the office. Larry Maggio was sitting behind his desk and stood when I walked in. The other man, younger than Maggio, stayed sitting. As usual, Maggio’s three-piece suit was perfect. This was the third time I had seen him, and it had been gray every time. But the ties had changed. The first time it was navy, the second a pale blue, and this time red. The other man wore tan slacks, a darker brown dress shirt, and a sport coat. I was glad I was wearing my best pair of jeans.

  As Maggio offered his hand the man stood up and took a step toward me. Maggio introduced us.

  “Spencer Manning… Renald Williams.”

  I tried not to look surprised, but I was sure I failed. I don’
t know what I expected the head of the Prophets to look like, but it wasn’t your average Joe you’d see on the street. There should have been some sinister aspect, but there wasn’t.

  “Try not to look too surprised, Spencer. Have a seat.” He pointed to the chair at the opposite corner of his desk from Williams.

  “Can’t blame me for that. I would have thought you two were rivals. Sitting peacefully in the same room seems odd.”

  Instead of replying, he took a bottle of Glenfiddich 15 from the bar shelf behind his desk and half-filled the three glasses on the credenza under the shelf. He handed one to each of us and raised his. I took a sip and held the glass in both hands. There was a crystal ash tray on his glass-topped desk, but neither of them was smoking.

  Maggio sat and said, “We’re both businessmen, Spencer. As such, we are smart enough to do what is good for business.”

  “I’m not saying that’s not a good business policy, but most businessmen don’t sit down and drink with their rivals. And pardon my saying, but your employees aren’t exactly going to be winning awards for employee of the month.”

  We all nursed our drinks. “Sometimes they do sit down…” Maggio said, “…if it serves both of their purposes.”

  “And there’s something here that serves your purposes?” I asked.

  “There is,” Maggio said.

  I glanced at Williams. He hadn’t said a word.

  He set his glass down on the table next to his chair and said, “We have our businesses, Mr. Manning. Some of those businesses overlap, and we have worked that out with as little… shall we say friction, as possible. When something interferes with business, we find it best to talk about it and try and find a solution.”

  I just stared at him, hoping he would say something that would be more in keeping with a conversation with a crime boss and a gang leader. He didn’t.

  I shook my head. The tension in the room was heavy. “I feel like we’re calmly talking about spending on the company parties cutting into the profits. But you wouldn’t have me here to talk about that. So why am I here? …I ask myself. The answer has to be Reynolds Margot.” I took another sip. “But darned if I know why. There’s nothing you need me for. And you’re certainly not going to help me with anything.”

  Williams started to talk, but Maggio interrupted him. He added whiskey to his glass and offered more to Williams and me. We both declined.

  He capped the bottle and said, “Mr. Williams contacted me because your name has come up in prior conversations. He knew I knew you and asked if I would arrange a meeting.”

  “My name came up?” I said.

  “Yes, you have been of service to me in the past, service that worked out well for both of us.”

  That was true. In a case a few years back, I had discovered who was framing his book maker, Joey the Juicer, someone I had developed a working relationship with as he had helped me on another case. It’s not only politics that makes strange bedfellows.

  “So, I arranged this meeting,” Maggio continued. “Mr. Williams can take it from here.”

  Williams emptied his glass and set it on the table.

  “Mr. Manning, I think this meeting can be mutually beneficial. I will be honest with you, and perhaps you can provide me some assistance.”

  I suppressed a laugh. “I don’t mean to be antagonistic, but given what you do for a living, the word honesty doesn’t have a lot of value. And I’m wondering why you need Mr. Maggio as an intermediary and why we’re meeting in his office.”

  He held his hands out palms up in front of him and shook his head slowly, as if the answers were obvious.

  “As Mr. Maggio has already said, he knows you… I don’t. If I had called your office would you have agreed to a meeting? And as to why we’re here, my whereabouts tend to be somewhat fluid. This is a good neutral ground. To your point, what I do for a living is provide a service. Drugs have existed in society for a long time. If it wasn’t me it would be someone else. And perhaps someone else not as friendly.”

  I knew he was right about the someone else, but I said, “We could argue about that all afternoon and get nowhere. My whereabouts are not fluid. If you want to meet in the future, it can be at my office.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I finished my drink and set down the glass. “So, what is it that you think could be mutually beneficial?”

  “Are you making any progress with your investigation into Mr. Margot’s death?”

  “If by death you mean murder, I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

  “No, of course not. What I hear is that you have many suspects, including me, and nothing that points to any of them.”

  I didn’t ask how he knew that… he wouldn’t have answered.

  “If that is true, how is it you think you can help?” I asked.

  “You can rule out me.”

  This time I didn’t surpress my laugh. “Pardon me, but I’m just supposed to take your word for that? I know full well that you didn’t pull the trigger and you have an air-tight alibi. But nothing happens in the Prophets without your knowing about it. And your raised fist was painted on the wall in the alley.”

  He shrugged. “Anyone can tag a wall. What better way to point the cops in the wrong direction? I’m not that stupid.”

  I had taken that into consideration. I knew he wasn’t so stupid as to leave his calling card behind.

  “I agree. But perhaps you don’t have as much control over your… followers as you would like.”

  “My… followers are followers because they follow orders. Nothing goes on that I don’t know about.”

  I lpaused a few seconds before I said, “Like your brother?”

  He just stared at me.

  “I’ll keep looking into everyone on my list until I make the decision, based on evidence, that someone should be removed from that list,” I said.

  “Of course you will. Good to be thorough. Good luck with some of those names.” He showed a little smirk.

  I took a deep breath. “So that’s how you think you can help me. How do you think I can help you?”

  He smiled. “I’m getting pressure from the police. Pressure for something I had no hand in. You’re working with Detective Bast. Once you take me off your list, I’m hoping you share that with him. The… pressure is bad for business.”

  I laughed again. “I’m all out of sympathy. Whatever I do will be because it is the right thing to do based on where the evidence leads. If it puts you in jail, it puts you in jail. If it exonerates you and puts someone else in jail, so be it.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mr. Maggio assured me you’re fair. I respect that.”

  How nice. “Are we done here?”

  “I’ve said what I wanted to say,” Williams said.

  I thanked Maggio for the drink and stood up.

  “Oh, by the way,” Williams said, “how’s Sister Katherine? I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks.”

  I didn’t know how to take that. It could have been a veiled threat. But after what Sister said about Williams, it didn’t feel like one. But it was out of character for a gang leader.

  “Hardest working person I know. I’ve got a lot of respect for her.”

  “As do I,” Williams said. “She cares about those people and puts her time where her heart is.”

  The feel of this meeting was odd. The tension was still there, but concern and caring from this guy was out of character with what he did. I would rather just think of him as a bastard who belonged behind bars. And he did. But I didn’t want my viewpoint conflicted by a caring side. And I had to remember that Sister accepted him for what he was and took what he had to give.

  “I’d hate to see her get hurt,” I said.

  He gave me a hard stare. “Whoever hurt that lady would have to answer to me. Not one of my follo
wers… me personally.”

  I believed him. I turned to Maggio and said goodbye.

  He smiled. “I’m glad you could make it after noon, Spencer.”

  I nodded without smiling back. I turned to my left and nodded to Williams.

  “Manning,” he said.

  The secretary wished me a good day, and I stepped across the hall to the elevator. I looked back at the office and wondered about an idea. By the time I got to the lobby I had made a decision. I sat in a red leather chair thinking about Sister Katherine and what she had said about Williams and what he had said about her.

  ***

  I watched people come and go for twenty minutes before Williams walked out of the center elevator. He walked confidently across the tile in front of the elevators and had taken about ten steps before he saw me. He looked a bit surprised and walked over to where I was sitting. My stomach turned at the thought of what I was about to do. But instead of thinking about him I thought about Sister Katherine and her philosophy about Renald Williams. She spent her whole life just trying to do something about the little things she could help with. She accepted what he was and took what he had to offer. I wasn’t sure I could do the same. And even if I could, I wasn’t sure he’d agree.

  He nodded and said, “Manning. Waiting for someone?”

  He looked a bit surprised when I said, “You.”

  If it were anyone else I’d have suggested coffee. But just because I wanted to use him didn’t mean I had to socialize with him. I invited him to sit in the chair next to me. What I had to say needed to be private, and what could be more private than a lobby where people were coming and going and not paying any attention to anyone else. This was an office building… no one used the lobby for meetings. There were other chairs and couches. Our two were the only ones being used.

  He sat patiently waiting for me to tell him why I wanted him. I was surprised he was so good at it. He probably wasn’t used to being patient.

  “I was surprised by your… um, feelings about Sister Katherine,” I said.

  He gave me a tiny smile and a furrowed brow. “Not incapable of respect, Manning. I don’t meet many people as dedicated to what they do as she is. She’s an exceptional person.”