Missing Boy

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Missing Boy Page 2

by Rick Polad


  “Neither had I.” I watched Carol picking up a box.

  “Don’t mean to bother you Spencer, but I’d like to run somethin’ by you.”

  “Whatcha got, Johnny?”

  “Well, I don’t know if there’s anything in it, but my sister called, worried that her kid hadn’t come home last night.”

  “Is that your godson?”

  “Yes. Martin. He went to work on Monday and didn’t come home.”

  “Has she checked friends?”

  “She has. He often stays overnight with someone if he’s workin’ late, but he always tells her. She checked with the friends and no one’s seen him.”

  “Where’s he working?”

  “Riverview.”

  I was a bit surprised. Riverview amusement park is on the north side of the city. Johnny and his sister live on the south side.

  “Long way for the kid to travel,” I said.

  “Yup. That’s why he sometimes stays with friends up by the park.”

  “Did she call the police?”

  “They’re looking, but it’s only been a day. They told her to call friends. They say they get a lot of calls about kids who just forgot to tell their parents what they were doing. But that’s not like Martin. He’s a great kid.”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Would you check with the lieutenant?”

  “I will, Johnny. But give me your sister’s number. I’ll give her a call too.” I turned to look for a pencil and saw Carol with one already in her hand. She wrote as I repeated the number out loud.

  “I’ll make some phone calls and look around and get back to you, Johnny.”

  “Thanks, Spencer. Probably nothing, but…”

  “I know. Try not to worry.”

  I hung up and looked at Carol.

  “What?” she asked, with raised eyebrows.

  I shook my head and smiled. “I’ve been interviewing people for a week, looking for a secretary. Coulda saved me a lot of trouble if I had known she was right across the street.”

  She laughed and her gaze went to my left as she squinted.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I may be mistaken, but I think an unmarked police car just stopped in front.”

  I turned around. “Oh crap, only been here a few days and already they’re looking for a donation.” I folded my arms across my chest and waited.

  Sporting a worried look, Carol sat down as the cops came in.

  Ronny Steele held the door for Rosie Lonnigan—my two favorite detectives. The noise of car traffic increased.

  “Well, well,” Rosie said, “a new gumshoe in town.”

  “You guys have nothing better to do than harass hard-working citizens?”

  “We’re the welcoming committee,” said Steele without a smile.

  “Well, welcome me and get back to fighting crime. I pay your salary, you know.”

  Carol looked nervous.

  “Mr. Manning,” she said slowly, “perhaps I should go. I…”

  Rosie held up her hand. “No problem, ma’am, we’re leaving.” She turned to me. “Are you about done?”

  I scrunched up my lips. “About.”

  “Good. Give it to him, Steele.”

  Carol tensed in the chair.

  Steele reached into his back pocket and pulled out a magnifying glass with a red bow around it.

  Carol’s jaw dropped and she looked confused.

  Rosie came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, Spencer. Door’s always open.”

  “Thanks, Rosie.” I looked at Steele.

  “You think I’m going to kiss you, you’re nuts.”

  Everyone laughed except Carol. She was trying to figure this out.

  Rosie nodded toward the door.

  “If you guys have a minute…” I said.

  “Sure,” Rosie replied.

  “I got a call from Johnny over at the Blue Note. His nephew didn’t come home Monday night after work at Riverview. You guys have any missing kids?”

  Rosie looked at Steele who shook his head. “I’ll check with Missing Persons when we get back to the station.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you tonight.” I looked at them through the magnifying glass.

  Rosie laughed and headed out.

  I turned the magnifying glass on Carol. “I’m detecting that you could use an explanation.”

  She smiled a pretty smile. “You’re really good at your job.”

  “Yeah, I’m a genius. Short story is my dad was a chief on the south side. I’ve known Rosie for a long time and I have a lot of friends on the force.”

  Her smile got bigger. “Well, at least two. Is there a long story?”

  “Yup. If you accept my offer, I’ll tell you over dinner.”

  “What offer would that be?” She looked worried again.

  I sat on the edge of the desk. “I’m going to take a ride over to Riverview this afternoon. If you’d like to come, we could get something to eat.” I looked around. “And I need to do something to pay you back for organizing my office.”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You’re wonderful. I wish I had met you an hour ago—you’d have a job.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not really looking for one, and I have my son.”

  “Where’s your son now?”

  “He’s with my sister. Her son is the same age as Billy.”

  “When do you get him?”

  “Sometime after dinner.”

  “Can I have you until then?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

  “Great! Have you had lunch?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’m going to grab a sandwich from the deli and make a few calls. Can you come back in a half hour?”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  I called Martin’s mother, Gloria, and told her the police would do all they could. As we chatted, I asked for the names and numbers of his friends on the north side where he stayed after work and if she knew where Martin worked in the park. She didn’t. I hoped one of his friends would know. I also asked her for a recent picture of Martin in case I needed to spread it around the neighborhood. She said she’d get one to Johnny.

  Carol was back right on time. I locked up and ushered her out the back door and into my baby-blue Mustang.

  Chapter 4

  Riverview Amusement Park was located on Western Avenue, between Belmont and Roscoe, just south of Lane Tech High School. Dad had taken me there at least once a summer since I was four or five. My goal in life had been to grow tall enough to be able to ride the roller coasters. That took five years. Wherever we went on vacation, Dad had me go to the library and learn about the history of the place. Riverview was no different. So, while we drove, I shared some of the local history with Carol.

  “The park opened in 1879 and was originally called Sharpshooters Park.” We stopped for a taxi letting out a passenger.

  “Strange name for an amusement park,” she said.

  I pulled around the taxi and explained. “The land, which used to be a garbage dump, was bought in 1879 by William Schmidt, a wealthy baker. He invented the soda cracker.” I turned onto Western. “He used the land as a shooting range for his friends and set up targets in the Chicago River, which ran along the western property line. Every Sunday, he and his friends would shoot and drink.”

  “So how did it become an amusement park?”

  “Well, the wives complained their husbands were never home on Sunday. The men weren’t going to give up their shooting, so they cut a deal. William built a picnic area and put in a carousel for the families to ride.”

  “So, another case of women changing history,” Carol said with a smirk.

  I laughed. “Yup, but then his son, George, became interested in amusement parks. He convinced his father to lease out six acres to an east coast syndicate for an amusement park, and in 1904 the park became Riverview Sharpshooters Par
k. By 1910, it was the largest in the world.”

  I moved into the right lane and turned into the parking lot.

  ***

  As we looked for a spot, Carol asked what I hoped to find.

  “Nothing in particular. So far, this is the last place we know of where Martin was. You can learn things just by keeping your eyes open. Let’s just walk around and see if anything pops out.”

  I got a spot in the first row right next to the special parking area for motorcycles, paid, and we walked through the arched entrance gate which was painted with red, white, and blue stripes. “William was quite the entrepreneur. Before each season he mailed out free entrance passes to get people into the park, where they then had to pay for the rides and food.”

  “Smart.”

  “In the 1920s he also paid the streetcar fare for kids. The car ran down Western Avenue and stopped at the park. The fare was only a couple cents but that was a lot to people back then.”

  We stood inside the gate and talked about a plan. I asked Carol what her favorite ride was.

  “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never been here.”

  “Really? Well, then we’ll just have to go on all of them!”

  She laughed. “Hmmm. Don’t know about that. Unless you want to take a chance on being thrown up on, I suggest we skip anything that spins around. And I’m not too thrilled about dropping out of the sky in a parachute.”

  I laughed. “Okay. We’ll stick to the merry-go-round. But the best way to see the park is on the train or the Space Ride.”

  “What’s the Space Ride?”

  “Kind of a gondola that travels over the park.”

  She gave me a nervous look. “Let’s stay on the ground.”

  “Okay, the Riverview Chief it is.”

  The station was to the left, not too far down the Midway at the edge of a park. We started in that direction, but Carol stopped in her tracks when we turned a corner and saw what I had always called the evil genie. It was the huge, wicked face of a smirking genie with a beard, thin moustache, wide eyes, and turban. When we were kids we used to say that if you looked at the face, the genie would get you in the middle of the night.

  “What the heck is that?” asked Carol.

  I laughed. “Officially, Aladdin’s Castle.” I told her about the evil genie. We stopped and watched the crowd gathered in front of the entrance.

  “You have to walk through the castle where nothing is as it seems.” I told her about the maze of screen doors with no handles you had to go through to get into the castle, the distorted mirrors that made you thin and tall or fat and short, the dark passages, the tilted floors, and the magic carpet that whisked you out of the castle over bouncing rollers.

  She told me she could live without all that.

  “Well, not if you were five.”

  I nodded toward the crowd. “What do you notice about the crowd?”

  She cocked her head, scanned the fifty or so people in front of the entrance, and shrugged. “Nothing special.” Then she squinted and looked confused. “I would think they’re waiting to go in, but they’re not in line—they’re just watching, but nothing’s happening. Is there some show?”

  “Sort of. What else?”

  After a few seconds, she said, “They’re almost all men.”

  “Exactly!”

  She looked confused again.

  “Keep watching.”

  In a few minutes, two couples walked up to the ticket booth, bought tickets, and started up the stairs, which went up along the genie’s beard to the entrance door at the left of his face. The murmur from the crowd stopped. Near the top, one of the girls screamed as a blast of air blew up from the stairs, blowing her dress up around her waist. The crowd howled.

  Carol looked shocked. “These guys stand around waiting to see some girl’s underwear?”

  I laughed. “Evidently. Pretty cheap thrills.”

  “To say the least. How did that happen? Did she step on something?”

  “Look behind you.”

  She turned toward a minaret on the other side of the Midway from the castle. “So?”

  “So, there’s a man in there who triggers the air when a girl gets to the right step.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Some guy’s job is to blow up women’s dresses?”

  “Yup. Wanna try?”

  “I think not, Mr. Manning!”

  The crowd started to thin out and we headed for the train station.

  “So, what does this kid look like?” Carol asked.

  “Like a kid.” I had only met him once and described him as best as I could.

  We sat in the first of six cars, right behind the engine, and started the trip around the park.

  As the train started, we chatted about growing up in Chicago. I held up my hand as we passed the Bobs roller coaster. It was screeching around the last turn and I couldn’t hear her over the screams of the happy passengers.

  “Are you up for a roller coaster?” I asked.

  “I think so, but perhaps one of the others. I heard the Bobs actually leaves the tracks at some point.”

  I laughed as we made a turn that put the Parachute Drop directly in front of us. “Well, the Bobs covers more than a half mile in a little over two minutes, but I think it stays on the track the whole time.”

  “Just the same, I’ll work my way up.”

  The train whistle blew as we came up to a walkway crossing, and we swung around a curve where the tracks started to follow the river.

  “The land you’re on now wasn’t part of the original park and the river wasn’t where you see it. They rerouted the river so they could expand the park.”

  She nodded, took a deep breath, and looked up at one of the other roller coasters. I asked about her family.

  “My mom died a few years ago, and Dad several months after. I think he died of a broken heart. They were like Siamese twins. I really miss them a lot.” She looked sad.

  I knew how she felt.

  “My husband died not long after that in a car accident,” she said.

  I resisted the urge to take her hand and tried not to think about car accidents. “Sorry to hear that.”

  She nodded. “Thanks. Billy was devastated,” she said as we entered a tunnel.

  Thirty seconds later we came back into the sunshine and I asked how she got by.

  “Oh, there were insurance policies and a small legacy from my folks… enough to make ends meet as long as I watch it. But I get lonely and bored when Billy’s not there. I can’t imagine what Martin’s folks are going through. If it were Billy, I’d…”

  I touched her arm.

  “What do you think happened?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. There are so many possibilities.”

  “So how do you find him?” She looked hopeless.

  “I start talking to people here and asking questions and crossing off possibilities.”

  The horn sounded as we came to a crossing.

  “Do you think you’ll find him, Spencer?”

  “I have to assume that I will. The plan is to be successful.”

  “And how often are you?”

  I smiled. “So far… every time. But I’ve only been doing this for three years. Given time, the odds will catch up with me.”

  “Well, I hope you have at least one more time before that happens. If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”

  “Thanks.”

  As we rounded a curve, she pointed toward the merry-go-round. “Now that I can handle!”

  “Great! We’ll get off at the stop coming up and go take a ride. And then we’re going on my favorite ride.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Well, okay, but remember the throwing up part.”

  I laughed. She didn’t.

  As we walked away from the station I told her about the merry-go-round. “I already told you it was originally installed to appease the wives. The horses were hand-carved and
painted wood, and the organ music was from paper music rolls. Other animals were added over the years and the wooden horses were replaced by aluminum ones. Dad got us a tour of the sheds where a few of the old horses are stored. They’re wonderful.”

  We got on and flew around and around at fourteen miles per hour.

  As we made our way to the exit, Carol asked, “So what’s this favorite ride?”

  “You’ll see,” I said with a smile.

  We cut across the center of the park through the game arcade, and as we reached the east side I could see the top of the Shoot the Chutes. I was pretty sure Carol wouldn’t agree if I told her that’s where we were going.

  When we reached the entrance, I took her hand and led her into the line. She looked at me like I was crazy, but she kept walking.

  As we stood in line I told her about the ride. Boats were lifted to the top of a tower by an elevator where they then ran down a water chute to splash into a lagoon at the bottom. I explained that the first chutes ride was at Chutes Park on the south side. When that park went out of business in 1906 the ride was built here at Riverview.

  After ten minutes we were first in line for the next boat and we’d be able to sit in the front row, my favorite spot. But, while she was willing to go on the ride, Carol insisted on sitting near the back so she wouldn’t get wet.

  She held tightly to the bar in front of us as we rode up the elevator. When we got to the top she gave me one quick look of apprehension and squeezed the bar all the way to the bottom where the boat splashed into the lagoon, throwing up a wall of water. Everyone got wet, especially those at the back.

  She turned to me with a look of amazement and asked, “Can we go again?”

  I broke out laughing as the boat was funneled back to the loading platform. “Well, all the rides except this one have a second ride for half price deal. We’d have to stand in line again.”

  “Then let’s come back sometime when Billy’s tall enough.”

  As we walked back to the entrance, Carol asked about my dad.

  “How about I give you the long story over dinner?”

  She accepted.

  ***

  I took Carol to an Italian restaurant on Clark Street. After we ordered, I told her about the “car accident” that had killed my mom and dad. It was no accident and was meant as a warning to back off from a drug case Dad was working on. It was just supposed to scare him. But the kid who was driving lost control of his car and ran Dad off the road and into a tree that killed my folks.

 

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