Cold Justice

by Rick Polad

Normally I would ask about lawyers, but I knew he had the best money could buy, and they were already working on bond. Joey was only a cog in the Chicago crime machine, but it was a machine that took care of its cogs. Having one of its cogs in jail where frustration can lead to deals being made was never a good thing from their point of view.

  “I give you a few days, Manning. But when do I get out on bond? The suits tell me they’re working on it, but they’re not the ones in the clown suit. I’ve been arrested before, and I was out before the next meal.”

  “This is different, Joey. Murder makes this a new ballgame.”

  “Yeah, I get it, but I didn’t do it. You gotta find the piece of garbage who set me up.”

  “If that person exists, I plan to.”

  He straightened in the chair. “Are you tellin’ me you don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t believe or disbelieve. I just look around for the truth.”

  “What about bond?”

  “Not my job. But I’m guessing that’s going to be tricky with an eyewitness.”

  “You find out who that is, Manning. He’ll tell a different story once my boys get ahold of him.”

  I folded my hands on the counter and leaned in. “Come on, Joey. The police have been after you for years, and now they have an eyewitness who puts you at the scene with a gun in your hand. That person is going to have better protection than the president.”

  “But you can find out. You got friends.”

  “I wouldn’t even ask. That’s not what friends are for.”

  He gave me a surly look.

  I did plan on asking. And I did plan on seeing how far Stosh would bend, but I wasn’t going to tell Joey that. I was pretty sure Stosh wasn’t going to bend much, if at all.

  “So what’s the plan, Manning?”

  “I talk to people and retrace your life and everyone who knows you.”

  He cracked his knuckles. “Who do you talk to?”

  “You and your boys for starters. Speaking of which, Marty wasn’t too willing to have a conversation and seemed to think the rest wouldn’t either.”

  “So?”

  “So, while I’m not getting cooperation, you’re getting free room and board.”

  “I’ll pass the word.”

  “You do that. Tell me about Friday night, about 11:20.”

  Stosh had told me that an eyewitness said he saw Joey Mineo shoot Schloff at 11:20 Friday night on the second floor of a deserted warehouse on the north side. I had asked questions and got no answers. That was all I knew. But the papers were saying it happened in an alley, so that’s what I shared with Joey.

  “I was in my place all night. And I wouldn’t even think of walkin’ into an alley. Are you nuts?”

  “Maybe. But that’s not the issue. Do you have an alibi for Friday night?” I knew Joey could get someone to swear to anything, any time. I told him so and also told him that I needed to know the truth if I was going to get anywhere.

  He shrugged and reluctantly said, “Not for 11:20.”

  “Tell me about the night.”

  He shrugged again. “What’s to tell? Same as any other night. Me and Marty decide it’s too cold to have dinner at Gibsons so we go back to my mansion and have them deliver. I don’t know why the hell I live in this icebox.”

  “Gibsons delivers?” Gibsons steakhouse was one of the best in the city, maybe in the country. While looking into Joey, I had learned he had his own table there. I wasn’t impressed—so had my dad.

  “Everyone does everything for the right amount of money.”

  I had looked into Joey a few years back just out of curiosity. His ‘mansion’ was a remodeled three-flat on the north side looking out over Lincoln Park. Word was, he lived on the top floor, and his boys had rooms on the second. The first was used for living, kitchen, dining room with a fancy chandelier, and a plush game room with a mahogany poker table.

  “So you’re home… then what?”

  “What? You’re keeping a diary? Home is home. That’s all you gotta know.” He stared.

  I returned his stare. “I can return the cash.”

  “Never thought of you as a pain in the ass, Manning.”

  “You never thought from behind bars before.”

  We stared for another moment before he continued.

  “You wanna know how much time I spent in the head?”

  “If it’s pertinent.”

  “The steaks came about six. We eat.”

  “Who is we?”

  “The boys.”

  I stared some more. It was becoming our means of communication. He understood and sighed.

  “Mike, Danny, Marty, and me.”

  “This would go faster if I didn’t have to tell you to keep going after every sentence.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me about the evening. I want to know everything that happened and what time.”

  He stretched and shifted in the chair. “We watch some TV. Wanna know what?”

  My stare got the point across.

  “Danny takes Marty home and gets back around nine. We play poker ‘til ten thirty.”

  “Marty doesn’t play poker?”

  “We don’t let him. He knows what everybody is holding before they even pick up their cards.”

  The guard interrupted and told me I had ten minutes left. I nodded. “So poker ends. Then what?”

  “Then we go to bed.”

  “What time?”

  “What time what?”

  “Did you go to bed.”

  He shrugged. “I watched a little Johnny Carson. Saw him introduce Tony Randall and don’t remember anything after that. So I’m asleep before eleven.”

  “What about Mike and Danny?”

  “I ain’t their mother.”

  “They go home?” I knew they had rooms on the second floor but didn’t want Joey to know that I knew.

  “Home is the second floor. Somebody wants me, they gotta go through them.”

  “Any witnesses to your being in bed after eleven?”

  “Now, how the hell would I have witnesses?”

  “No idea. But if Jimmy had brought you warm milk at eleven thirty that would be helpful.”

  “Hey, you want Jimmy to bring me milk every five minutes, that’s what happened.”

  “I want what happened to happen. Would it be possible for you to get out of the house without the others noticing?”

  He looked disappointed. “Thought you were working for me, Manning.”

  “I am. But I’m working to find the truth. If you did it, I’ll find out. If you didn’t, I’ll find the guy who did.”

  “You sound confident.”

  “No sense in planning to fail. Could you get out?”

  He shrugged. “If they were asleep and I was quiet going down the stairs.”

  “One last thing.”

  He stared.

  “Who are your boys? Marty is the accountant, Mike guards the door to the castle, Jimmy is the soda jerk, Danny is your driver. Who else?”

  “Nobody else. You got it.”

  “I’m missing one.”

  He looked puzzled.

  “Who’s your bodyguard?” I hoped I could catch him off-guard.

  “No chance, Manning.” He didn’t miss a beat. “Not information you need to know.”

  “And maybe getting out of here isn’t something you need to do. Your bodyguard may have seen something you missed.”

  More stares. I’d have to come back to the bodyguard. I got a warning from the guard. Our time was almost up.

  “So this is your normal routine? Eat, play cards, go to bed around eleven?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay.”

  The guard walked over.

  As I stood up, I said, “One last thing. After dinner, you have any idea what Marty did?”

  “Why you askin’ that?”

  “Just askin’.”

  He shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  “Okay, see you around, Joe
y.”

  “Yeah, great. I’ll just wait here for you.”

  The snow had stopped falling and was now just blowing. I brushed off the driver’s door, started the car, turned on the heater, and cleaned the rest of the windows. By the time I was done, the inside of the car had started to warm.

  As I was brushing the windows, I thought about something I had meant to ask Joey. He and two other men lived in his house. It seemed odd that none of them had wives or girlfriends. I put it on the list of things I needed to know more about.

  Chapter 6

  I needed a hot cup of coffee and my couch. But I also needed to talk to Stosh. If the station wasn’t on the way home I would have put the talk off until Wednesday.

  I climbed the stairs two at a time and made my way halfway down the hall to the office with the nameplate “Lt. Powolski” next to the door. Kate was at her desk in the outer office.

  “Hello, Spencer. What brings you back here on a day like this?”

  “Would you believe I missed you?”

  She laughed. “No. He’s indisposed but should be back shortly. Go on in and have a seat.”

  I sat on the more comfortable looking of the two wooden chairs, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. My eyes opened wide when I was startled by a thud and my chair jolting.

  “Oh, sorry. I tried to be quiet. Did I wake you?”

  “How is kicking my chair being quiet?”

  Lieutenant “Stosh” Powolski was a part of the family. He had been a sergeant on the south side when my dad was chief of police. I had grown up calling him Uncle Stosh. He and Aunt Rose were the only family I had left after my folks were killed a few years back. He was a surly, obstinate pain in the ass, and everybody loved him. For years, we had played gin rummy almost every Saturday and some weekdays. He was a walking encyclopedia on Chicago crime history and the biggest Cubs fan in town.

  “Make it short, kid. I’m going home.”

  “Just saw Joey. He’s not happy.”

  “I’ll try not to lose any sleep over that,” he said as he slid folders into the cabinet behind his desk. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Not real sure. I’ll start talking with the crew in the ice cream parlor and try and find a thread. He’s got no alibi for the time of the shooting. Says he was asleep by eleven. And since there’s no Mrs. Joey, there’s no one to verify that, like that would matter anyway.”

  He looked at me like he could care less. “You know that there are very few people in this city who mind seeing Joey behind bars.”

  I nodded. “Even most of the criminals don’t mind. Joey doesn’t have many cheerleaders.”

  His desk cleared, Stosh stood and walked to the coatrack in the corner.

  “How long do you think he’ll be in County? What’s the chance of bail?”

  “Hearing is tomorrow morning. It’ll depend on the judge, but the DA is not in favor.”

  “His attorney will argue that he’s in danger in jail and isn’t a flight risk.”

  “All the guys walking with a limp will smile about that.”

  “Okay, different question. What’s the chance we’ll get a judge who’s not being paid off by Larry Maggio?”

  “Slim. But I wouldn’t mind bail. Joey thinks he can beat anything. He’s not going anywhere.”

  I thought as Stosh put on his coat. “I agree—he’s not going anywhere. But maybe he’s safer in jail.”

  “How so?”

  “If he is being framed, someone’s out to get him.”

  “Agreed. But, making that assumption, they didn’t shoot him… they set him up. They don’t want him dead—they want him in jail where he can sit and stare at bars for the rest of his life.”

  “Why would someone go to that trouble?”

  “The list of people he’s pissed off is longer than we can imagine. Who knows why?”

  “But Joey’s into money. The people on his bad side knew what they were getting into—they came to him. He didn’t beg them to borrow money from him. Sure, they were upset, but that’s something you forget and get on with life. There’s gotta be something bigger.”

  “Well, you have fun figuring that out. Me, I wouldn’t be sad if you didn’t.”

  A part of me wouldn’t be either.

  “You wanna get some dinner?” he asked.

  “No thanks. Rosie is coming over. I have steaks ready for the grill. And she’s prettier than you.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Gin Saturday?”

  “Sure, kid.”

  ***

  Rosie had the grill heating, and I realized I was hungry. I was also glad she was there. We had danced around the meaning of our relationship for years, but lately it had settled into enjoying being together without analyzing it. I hung my coat on a hook in the hall and got a hug from the chef. Two New York strips were on a platter on the kitchen island. I had carried in the box with my new portable phone and set it on the kitchen table.

  “Steaks are ready to go on. Get cleaned up and you can take care of the asparagus.”

  “Sounds great. Be right back.”

  She was walking in from the porch when I got back to the kitchen.

  “Spencer, do you ever use the telescope?”

  Dad had bought me an eight-inch dobsonian scope for my tenth birthday, and we had spent hours looking at the sky. I had once considered being an astronomer, but advanced degrees in physics weren’t in my future. But when Dad told me about all the discoveries amateurs had made I decided to just have fun. He had taught me a lot. The celestial objects were old friends, but old friends that held memories I didn’t want to face yet. I didn’t know if I ever would.

  “I used to. We used to drive up to Michigan or Wisconsin where it was really dark.”

  “Is there anything to look at tonight?”

  “There’s always something to look at.”

  “Would you show me? I’ve never looked through a telescope.”

  “Maybe another night, Rosie. It’s pretty cold.” It was actually a good night for viewing. There was no moon, and there was a clear view of Orion from the backyard. The nebula in Orion’s belt was spectacular. But I just wasn’t ready to move the telescope from the corner.

  We ate in the living room watching the news, just as Mom and Dad and I had done almost every night. The six o’clock news led with a major story about Joey. He did his best to keep to himself and wouldn’t like all the publicity. But then he didn’t have a lot to say about it at the moment. The reporter interviewed one of Joey’s attorneys, who stated with a straight face that Joey had been framed. The ABC station ran old footage of one of Joey’s previous arrests and gave his history as the loan guy for Larry Maggio, Chicago’s current crime boss. The reporter emphasized that this was different from the last eighteen times Joey had been arrested—this was murder. He had no more facts than what I already knew, but managed to stretch it out to five minutes. An unknown eyewitness had seen Joey shoot a man, later identified as Max Schloff, in one of Chicago’s dark alleys on the north side. After some information about Max Schloff, whom the reporter described as a lifetime jack-of-all-trades criminal with more arrests than Joey, he signed off with the statement that a hearing would be in the morning.

  “So how did the chat with Joey go?” Rosie asked.

  “Swears he was framed but has no idea about who. If it wasn’t Joey I’d feel sorry for him.”

  She laughed. “After talking with him, you still think he was?”

  “I do. This is just silly. Joey isn’t this dumb, or that brave. If he wanted to kill Schloff he’d have someone else do it. What do you think?”

  “I agree. As much as I’d like to see him take a fall, this smells bad. But despite the smell, if the witness holds up it could stink like a barn full of steaming manure and end up with a guilty verdict.”

  “Thanks for the imagery.” Trying to ignore her smile, I savored the last bite of steak, finished off the asparagus and mashed potatoes, and asked Rosie if she knew
who the witness was.

  “I don’t, but I wouldn’t say if I did. I like my job. There’s a tight lid on this. I don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.”

  “Do you think Stosh knows?”

  “I’d bet he does, but I’d never ask. Are you playing your usual gin game Saturday?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see what I can get out of him.”

  “That will be nothing, Spencer. He likes his job too. What’s in the box?”

  “What?”

  “The box behind me on the table.”

  I told her about the portable phone and opened the box.

  “Hard to call that portable,” Rosie said. “Does it come with a wagon to haul it around in?”

  I laughed. “I mentioned that to Larry. But he was too excited to pay attention to my raining on his parade. He says it’s the wave of the future.”

  “Yeah, as long as you have a wagon.”

  I shrugged. “It may come in handy.”

  As we were cleaning up the dishes, Rosie asked if I’d been shaking any trees.

  “Not yet. But Joey’s family are those guys who hang around the ice cream parlor. I’m going to have a meeting in the morning with my operatives and put some eyes on the ice cream crew.”

  I washed and Rosie dried.

  “And I’m going to look into a certain Knox lady who has some mysterious handicap and a working dog to prove it.”

  Rosie smiled. “Spencer Manning to the rescue. Can I be Dulcinea?”

  “You already are. I am devoted to you, my lady.”

  She looked up with watery eyes and lips that asked to be kissed. I obliged. I put on a Jobim record that added soft Brazilian ambience, and we settled on the couch where I forgot about Joey.

  Chapter 7

  As the weatherman had promised, Wednesday was bright with sunshine that would warm the temperature to twenty. A heat wave.

  I got to the office at a little after nine. Carol was working on files. I got settled in my room in the back and gave her a slip of paper with six names… four men and two women I had used on previous cases for surveillance, and asked her to set up a meeting for two this afternoon.

  I watched the traffic on Diversey for a minute through the big plate glass windows—commuters on a conveyor belt only to do it all again tomorrow—and listened to the discordant sounds of automobile engines and honking horns… the music of the city. I returned to my office, settled in my chair, and called Ben Tucker, my retired ex-DA friend who had quit a year ago at the ripe old age of thirty-two. He now spent the warm months playing golf and the winter buying new clubs. He had retired with a good reputation and a list of contacts, and whenever I needed something he knew the right person to talk to. At the moment, I needed some information and a connection in whatever department at city hall took care of dog permits.