by Rick Polad
About twenty minutes later, Joey reappeared and stopped outside the door, squinting at the sun. He straightened his tie and reset the Stetson Homburg on his head at a fashionable angle. It was like he was admiring himself in a mirror, and he had every right to. Joey had no bad habits. He wasn’t into drugs, alcohol, or gambling. But he had always dressed like royalty. His suit today was a light shade of blue, his grey tie matched the color of the Homburg, and the band at the base of the hat was the same shade of blue as the suit. A grey and orange feather stuck out of the left side of the hat band. When he came out I decided to just stay put. I wanted to have a friendly chat about business but would save that for another time.
Joey looked around to see if anyone was catching his fashion show. No one seemed to be, except for me. I was pretty sure Joey’s scan had included me—Joey didn’t miss much. After a crowd passed by, he walked in my direction and casually sat down at my table.
“Well, whaddya know. How’s tricks, Shamus?”
I nodded. “Doing okay, Joey. Got a real office with a secretary. Looks like you’re still operating above the poverty level.”
He laughed. “Don’t let looks fool you. Business ain’t so good lately.”
A kid started to cry after he dropped his ice cream cone. His mother was explaining that they had spent all their money and couldn’t afford another. Joey got up, bought another cone and handed it to the kid. Mother and son were very grateful, although mom was the only one to say so—the kid was too busy devouring the treat.
Joey sat back down.
“Business can’t be that bad if you can pop for ice cream cones for strangers,” I said with a smile.
He shrugged. “I gotta soft spot for kids. I used to be one.”
“Speaking of business, what brings you here?”
As he crossed his legs and smoothed the pants legs, the Rosie look-alike walked past our table without looking at me. My sadness was back.
“I was just wondering the same thing about you, Shamus. I come here to take care of a little item and here you are. Helluva coincidence, and I don’t like those.”
“Neither do I.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking at me all the time. “Perhaps we’re here about the same thing.”
“Could be.”
But both of us were talking in circles, and we silently agreed to call it a draw. He stood, touched the brim of his hat, and walked slowly away.
Before I had visited Joey, I’d done some homework and discovered two facts. One, not many people crossed him… out of respect for the age-old tradition of wanting four good limbs. And two, he never carried a gun. He hired people to carry them for him. Rumor was that Joey had the best bodyguard in town. Joey never went anywhere without him, but no one had ever seen the guy. One man described him as a shadow without the shadow.
It crossed my mind that maybe there wasn’t a bodyguard. Maybe a good rumor did the trick. And rumors didn’t cost much.
I wanted to follow Joey and find his bodyguard, but I also wanted to keep an eye on the station. If I knew who was inside I could figure out who Joey was doing business with. There were only two possibilities. So I just watched as Joey walked down the Midway. The crowds were thin so I could follow him until he turned the corner at the Tilt-a-Whirl. I didn’t see anyone following him.
Turning my attention back to the police station, I was thinking about how to find out who was there when a man who looked like an employee opened the door and went in. Two minutes later, he was back and walking in my direction. I joined him as he walked past.
“Pardon me,” I said, “you look like you work here. I was just in the police station but no one was there. Do you know where they might be?”
He looked puzzled. “Well, I don’t know where the chief is, but Belva is right there sittin’ at her desk.”
“Strange, she wasn’t there a few minutes ago.”
“Probably in the can, mister. Go on back, she’s there.”
“Thanks. Much obliged.”
He touched the bill of his worn out ball cap and kept walking.
I waited for him to get out of sight and then walked past the office and down the Midway to Aladdin’s Castle. I now knew who Joey’s business was with. If he had been looking for Walters, he would have been out in a few minutes because Walters wasn’t there. Joey was in there for twenty. He and Belva had something to talk about.
***
The customer line leading up to the castle steps was short. I bought a ticket and followed a group of teenagers who screamed and yelled just like they were supposed to.
I spent an hour standing in exactly the same spot where someone had told me to meet him and saw everything I was supposed to. The scary face with the scar lit up every time someone came around the corner. The girls screamed and grabbed the guys. The guys laughed and let them grab. Blasts of air came out of slots in the side walls and a low-pitched, rumbling thunder came from the ceiling. But it was the thing I didn’t see that got my attention. Something I’d seen before was missing.
Chapter 15
Stosh and I had spent almost every Saturday afternoon of baseball season watching the Cubs in his living room with beer and sandwiches. I didn’t get there until the third inning and I was hungry. Rick Sutcliff had thrown a one-hitter the day before and the Cubs were in first place. I had been listening to the game on WGN on the way over. Steve Trout was on the mound. Cubs fans were always hopeful, but this year, with Sandberg and some good pitching, they had reason to be. They hadn’t played in the World Series since 1945 and worse yet they hadn’t won since 1908.
“About time,” Stosh said in his gruff, lovable way.
“Crime stops for no one. Mind if I help myself to your kitchen?”
“That’s the only way you’re going to get anything.” He unmuted the TV as the commercial ended.
When I got back to the living room, the Cubs had walked the bases full of Reds.
As I handed Stosh a bottle of Schlitz he asked, “So who you been botherin’ on a Saturday?”
“Stopped by Samantha’s and tried to get more information on her father. Not much there. Who doesn’t have a picture of their father?”
He raised the footrest on his recliner. “Maybe someone who had to leave town in a hurry.”
“Yeah, maybe. But the two references I called didn’t make it sound like anything was wrong. I sent her to the station to file a report.”
“I know. I left word to let me know if they find anything.”
“Thanks, Stosh.” After a few bites of a ham sandwich I continued. “Spent the rest of the time at Riverview. Guess who I ran into.”
He just gave me a disgusted look. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the bases-clearing double or he just wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.
“Joey the Juicer,” I said.
That got his interest. “Not someone you’d expect at an amusement park.”
“No. We had a chat, but he wasn’t talking about much.”
“Never does. And neither does anyone else, which is why he’s still walking around in expensive suits.”
After finishing the sandwich, I stretched out on the couch and watched the game. The Reds finished their half of the third, but not before six runs had scored and Trout was headed for an early shower. I got up and went for more beer. When I got back, Stosh had his feet up and his eyes closed. I swiped at the bottom of his feet as I walked by. No reaction other than to reach out as I popped the top off a bottle.
“I need a favor,” I said as I handed him the bottle.
“Now there’s a surprise.”
“Find out what you can about Belva Meyers.”
“Belva? Really?” Lt. Powolski knew who Belva was. He knew more about Chicago crime history than anyone in the city.
“Really. Like to have a chat with her parents. Who would do that to a kid?”
“And where did you run into this version of Belva?”
“She sits at the front desk in
the police station at Riverview and keeps people away from Walters.”
“What are you looking for?”
I shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Anything that pops out. I’ve got nothing so far and she seems like a good place to start.”
“Okay, I’ll look into it Monday. But it ain’t on top of the pile.”
“Even after my solving all your tough cases?”
He just humphed.
We watched a couple innings without conversation and then I asked another question.
“Can you tell me any more about Walters?”
“Like what?”
“Like why he was let go.”
He straightened in his chair and put down the footrest. “First of all, he wasn’t let go… it was a mutual agreement. And second, no.”
I spread my hands palms up, and gave him a pleading look.
“The files are sealed.”
“But you know.”
He shrugged. “What I know or don’t know doesn’t matter. Sealed is sealed. Unless you have some damned good reason, they’re going to stay that way.”
“Maybe I’ll find one.”
“Always open to new information.”
As we watched the game, he asked who was on my trust list. Dad had started the concept a long time ago. Who do you trust? Who do you think is telling the truth? Some of it is you just know down deep and some is a gut feeling. The down deep is a short list. For Dad it was Mom and me, and Aunt Rose, and Stosh, and probably a few people on the force. But you can’t always trust your relatives.
My deep down trust was, of course, Stosh and Rosie. I was pretty sure about Steele but there was still something about him that made me hesitate. When I had first met him I didn’t trust him at all. That had changed as I got to know him, especially after the rescue of Detective Pitcher a year ago, but I still kept my eyes open.
I thought about the case and came up with a very short list for my gut feeling. I told Stosh about Harvey. One of Dad’s rules was you never totally trust a stranger, but he also acknowledged that sometimes you just have to trust somebody. Just keep your eyes open. For me, Harvey fit that niche. Stosh just nodded.
“And I think I can probably trust Block. He’s owned that place for a lot of years. Why mess it up now?”
Stosh humphed again. “You’re forgetting one of your dad’s rules. Never trust someone with a lot of money. They usually don’t get there by being nice guys.”
I nodded. “Yup. But he seems so innocent. I think he just likes sitting in the chair and has no idea what goes on from day to day. He reminds me of Mr. Carlson on WKRP in Cincinnati.”
“Things usually aren’t what they appear to be on the surface, kid. You never know what skeleton is rattling in the closet.”
I asked if they had made any progress on Benny.
“Not much. Other than that ten grand note, no motive and no witnesses. But plenty of possible murder weapons. The repair shop has a whole rack of pipes of various sizes. Doc says something rounded, two or three inches in diameter, so a pipe would fit. Gonna keep the lab busy for days looking at those pipes.”
“And the bat?” I asked.
He smiled. “It was the first thing we tested. Clean except for Walters’ prints.”
I didn’t expect them to find anything. If Walters had done it, he wasn’t that dumb.
The Cubs pulled within a run in the ninth but left the tying run on.
“You got plans for dinner, kid?”
“Nope.”
“Let’s go get a steak. And Buddy Guy is playing at the Blue Note.”
“Steak sounds good,” I said, grabbing my jacket. “I’m going to give Johnny a call before we leave, but I’d like to wait to see him till I have some good news.”
He shrugged. “Some mighty fine blues.”
***
Over steak and baked potatoes we chatted about many things before Stosh came around to Rosie. He was sad to hear we hadn’t talked and added his two cents.
“Give her a call.”
I swirled beer in the bottom of the glass. “She said she wanted time.”
He nodded. “How long are you going to wait?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s up to me. She’s the one who wanted time.”
“If you get any more stubborn I’m gonna start looking for two more legs and long ears. Keep it up and you may lose a friend, too.”
I took a deep breath and admitted he was probably right.
As we walked to the car, I noticed a haze around the moon—cirrus clouds blown off the tops of a thunderstorm to the west. I hoped it was slow moving. I was taking Carol and Billy to the Cubs game Sunday.
Chapter 16
I woke up early Monday thinking about Rosie. It would have been easy if she had called me. But life wasn’t always easy. I put on sweats and sat on the deck and looked at the stars. The deck faced south and I had a view of the sunrise over houses to the east and a view of the sunset to the west over trees. If it hadn’t been for the case, I’d have left for Door County and been waiting for the sunrise over Moonlight Bay. The birds were singing as I watched night melt into the first hints of dawn. Other than birds, the first sound I heard was the paper hitting the driveway. I walked to the front, picked it up, and went back to my chair on the deck to catch up on the news.
Billy’s first ball game had been a win for the Cubs… and the vendors. That kid could eat. When I picked them up I gave Carol the posters and she said she and Billy would start passing them out today.
***
I walked into Molly’s a few minutes before eight. I had wondered if I’d be able to spot Harvey without the costume. He solved the problem. In a booth halfway up the middle aisle was a guy wearing a jester’s hat. I slid into the booth opposite him.
“Nice hat.”
He laughed and took it off. “Wanted to make it easy for you to pick me out of the crowd.”
“Mission accomplished.”
I ordered my usual two eggs over easy, pancakes, and bacon. Harvey chose a Greek omelette.
When the waitress left, Harvey slid a piece of paper across the table with three names listed along with where they worked in the park: Percy Humphrey—Bobs; Chester Zardis—Tilt-a-Whirl; and Frank Knight—Bottle Booth.
“There are certainly more,” he said, “but that’s all I know for sure that have come since Walters took over.”
“Great. Thanks. So Knight is Meatstick. I saw him talking with Walters. What’s your opinion of him?”
Harvey finished his orange juice and answered, “We’re friendly when we’re together, but I don’t go out of my way to be cordial. He’s not the nervous type like Benny… likes to push people around, especially the kids.”
“You think he bows to Walters?”
Harvey shrugged. “Don’t think he bows to anyone, but if Walters has something on him he may have to obey.”
The food arrived. I peppered my eggs and took a bite. “What makes you think Walters has something on these people?”
“Well, the people who work at amusement parks aren’t usually rubbing elbows with the social elite. Most are down on their luck and have had some sort of trouble along the way.”
“Not unlike most people. That doesn’t make them bad.”
“Nope. Not saying that. But it makes them vulnerable.”
“I noticed Benny isn’t on the list.”
He shook his head. “Nope, he’d been there almost as long as me.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Harvey continued.
“You asked if I wanted to give Walters something to hold over me.”
I nodded.
“Any ideas?”
“I’ve given that some thought. If you were arrested and spent some time in jail, that would put you on the same footing as the others.”
He looked surprised. “We’ll come back to the arrested part, but I assume you’re thinking Walters would approach me with some scheme?”
“That would be my hope. But
who knows.”
“And what makes you think Walters is involved in something?”
“Just a hunch. I don’t trust him, and neither do you.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “Now back to the arrested part. I’ve never been arrested… never even had a traffic ticket. Not something I need on my resumé.”
I laughed. “Agreed. But it would just be for show.”
“So we have to get some fake cops? Walters would know.”
“Yup. Which is why we use real cops—people Walters knows.”
“And how do we do that?”
The waitress filled our coffee cups and took away Harvey’s plate.
“I have friends in high places.”
He gave me a sideways glance.
“Another slight problem,” he said. “I don’t get paid for being arrested.”
I laughed and soaked up the last of the egg with wheat toast. “No, not usually part of the benefits package. I’ll make up whatever you lose in pay.”
He looked at me like I was nuts. “Really? So, I will get paid for being arrested?”
“Yes, you will.”
His eyes narrowed and he stared at something over my shoulder.
“What if he decides not to let me come back?”
“I’ll cover your pay as long as this goes on... and there is something going on. Either he takes you back and you have a heart to heart, or when you do go back, Walters won’t be there.”
“And what am I being arrested for?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I had thought about this while waiting for dawn. “I’m not sure. Any crimes you’ve always wanted to commit?”
“Nope. Not something one usually thinks about.”
“I’ll think more about it. Not entirely sure this is a good idea.”
He burst out laughing. The people across the aisle looked over at us. “Well I’m sure it isn’t! I can think of a lot of things I want, and none are a criminal record.”