Cold Justice
Page 12
“He doesn’t look happy,” Ralph said.
“But he’s still walking,” I said. “That’s more than some.”
“You’re okay with getting him fired?”
“We don’t know that, but I’m not the one meeting with Eigen. Things needed stirring.”
Ralph wasn’t asking because he disagreed. He really did want to know if I was okay.
“Let’s both follow,” I said. “If he was fired he’ll also be clearing out of the mansion. Let’s see where he goes.”
Ralph didn’t answer. He just got out and into his Chevy. He had left the engine running. He was a man of few words who didn’t need something explained twice and had never made a mistake while working for me.
The Lincoln stopped in front of Joey’s house and parked. Parking spaces were hard to come by, especially in the winter, but I figured the neighbors respected the spot. A half hour later a cab pulled up and double parked next to the Lincoln. Danny came out with two suitcases. Mike was carrying a box. The cabbie opened the trunk, and the bags and box were put in. Mike had nothing to say to Danny who looked pretty damned angry. He stared at the house before getting in.
***
We followed the cab to Lake Shore Drive where it headed south. It wasn’t Highway 1 in California, but it was still a pretty drive. The contrast between the city on my right and the lake on my left was drastic. Every time I was on it, “Lake Shore Drive,” by Aliotta, Haynes, and Jeremiah, ran through my head. At night in the winter the lake was just a lot of black, but during the summer it was dotted with boat lights.
Traffic slowed a bit at the s-curve as we crossed the Chicago River, and I thought of the engineering feat of the lock system that had reversed the flow of the river and sent the water and whatever else was in it south to the Illinois River, the Mississippi, and eventually the Gulf. Back in the late 1800s, water pumping stations were built out in the lake to supply the city with clean water. It had taken some time for them to figure out that people were dying because the waste they dumped into the river was getting into their water supply. So the natural flow of the river into the lake had been reversed.
The museum campus to the left of the drive was lit up in white lights. When I was a kid I got to pick from the museum of natural history, the aquarium, and the planetarium, and once a month we’d spend a Saturday exploring.
Ralph stayed right behind me as we kept heading south. There were a few brave souls jogging along the blacktop path along the shore through the longest park in the world, which had been laid out by Daniel Burnham in the early 1900s. Of Chicago’s twenty-nine miles of shoreline, all but four are public park.
The cab turned off the drive at the Museum of Science and Industry, and ten minutes later stopped in front of a run-down apartment building on Kenwood. The cabbie helped Danny unload, and Danny hauled everything he had in the world up the steps. After he was in, Ralph joined me. I told him he could knock off after he got me a sandwich from the diner on the corner, and I’d watch Danny until midnight when Ralph could relieve me. I’d be back at six unless he called before that. After he left I checked the apartment tags. There were two Primos, Carla and Maxwell. I walked around the back through the alley and looked at the rear exits. But since Danny had no idea he’d been followed, he’d be using the front door.
I had parked one building down and across the street, twenty feet from a streetlight and next to a four-foot mound of dirty snow. The seven o’clock newsman said the temperature was eleven heading down to zero. Winds were negligible, and Tuesday was expected to be sunny with a warming trend into the twenties. But that wouldn’t help me at the moment. I’d have to leave the car running most of the time.
I listened to WGN as I usually did when I was in the car. Chicago’s top-rated radio host, Bob Collins, signed off at six thirty when Chuck Swersky took over with Sports Central. They talked Cubs for the first hour. Chuck was picking them to win the World Series, but the big story was about WGN raising a sixty second ad during the games from $110,000 to $145,000. They expected the Cubs to do well also. The Cubs were also raising ticket prices. I was looking forward to the start of Eddie Schwartz’s overnight show at eleven because I’d only have an hour left.
A few people came and went, but none of them were Danny. About ten I called Rosie. I figured that gave her enough time to lose Gabriel. She sounded glad to hear from me and laughed when I told her where I was.
“All that money and you’re sitting in a cold car instead of your warm house.”
“Well, the heater is on, and this cold car has one advantage over my warm house.”
“And that would be?”
“I don’t have to share it with memories.” We had talked about selling the house, but I wasn’t ready to think about that.
After a pause, she said, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I wish I could help.”
“I wish you could too. But there is something you can help with.”
“If I can.”
I told her about the warehouse. She said no problem. I asked if there was a day Gabriel would be otherwise busy, and she said it would be good experience for him. I said I guessed it would. Ben and I would be at the range Tuesday morning, so we set it up for Tuesday afternoon.
I was watching the lights in the neighborhood go off, and by eleven when Eddie Schwartz came on the air there were only a few left. A city of three million going to sleep.
Ralph relieved me at 11:45. I had nothing to report and was sure the night would be quiet. I told him I’d see him at six.
Chapter 14
It was still dark when my alarm went off. The only thing to do would be to throw off the covers and get up. One more minute of cozy warmth always turned into at least an hour.
When I turned onto Lake Shore Drive the sun was streaking through the clouds that hung over the lake, painting the clouds orange, red, and yellow. As long as the temperature kept rising there was the possibility that spring would again arrive. The days were getting longer, but there were still too many of them before Mom’s tulips would make an appearance.
That early in the morning, traffic was light, and I pulled alongside Ralph’s old Impala at ten to six. He nodded at me. I parked four spaces ahead of him and walked back to his car. There had been no traffic in or out of the building until twenty minutes ago, and none of them were Danny. I thanked Ralph for doing extra duty and told him the plan, which was that I was going to play it by ear. He could have said that wasn’t much of a plan, but Ralph knew who the boss was. He also knew I already knew that. I asked him to be back by nine so I could get back to meet Ben. He just nodded and gave me a short salute.
A crowd came out of the building a little after seven. The fourth person was Danny. He turned to the south and walked down the block. I followed him to the diner on the corner and followed him in. I had told Marty I wanted to talk to all the employees, of which Danny was no longer one, but that wasn’t going to stop me, so I sat next to him at the counter. We both ordered, and I waited for him to get a dose of coffee in him before I took in some coffee and started the conversation.
“Hits the spot on a day like this.”
He didn’t respond.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. Just being friendly.”
He stared straight ahead. “Well, be friendly somewhere else.” He sipped his coffee.
I guessed that was a polite way of telling me to shut up.
I sipped mine and after a minute tried again. “You hear what the Cubs did to ticket prices?”
“I don’t give a damn what the Cubs did with ticket prices. The Cubs never done nothin’ for me.” He pushed his coffee ahead on the counter and turned to me with a disgusted look. “If it’ll shut you up, I got fired yesterday, and I’m not in a mood for friendly.”
“Gee, that’s tough, kid.”
He turned away.
I figured he’d be angry and want to share his anger with someone so I kept pushing. “What’d you do?”
He sighed and pushed the c
offee to the side so the waitress could put his plate down.
“I was a chauffeur.”
I poured syrup over my pancakes. “Nice job. What happened?”
“My boss didn’t like a deal I was working on.”
He was started. I could stop pushing. He just picked at his eggs, but I ate like I was hungry.
“It’s a real sweet deal. Lotsa money involved, and I didn’t have to invest much.”
“Sounds perfect. What kind of deal? Maybe I’d be interested.”
He took a bite of toast and washed it down with coffee. “A horse. This friend of mine knew where we could get a real runner for cheap. Some guy died.”
“What does that have to do with being a chauffeur?” I knew darned well what that had to do with.
“Nothin’.” He tried some eggs. “It’s complicated.”
Yes, it was.
“This is a sure deal?” I asked, knowing there is no such thing as a sure deal.
“Locked up.”
“Then I’d be interested.”
He shook his head. “We don’t need any interest. It’s already split enough ways.”
“Okay, just asking.”
That was all he had to say, but it was enough. Marty had looked into whatever Eigen was cooking, and Joey had fired Danny because of the horse. I never figured Danny was smart enough to set up Joey, but knowing what was going on was better than guessing.
When I finished eating, I gave the waitress a ten and told her that covered both breakfasts. Danny thanked me and I wished him luck.
When I got back to the Mustang I called Ralph and told him we were done with Danny. Anyone else would have asked why. Ralph just did his job. If the job was over, he didn’t care why. He said he’d drop the cell phone at the office and would be at the pool hall if I needed him. I had been wondering why that was his point of contact, but he didn’t mind my life, and I didn’t mind his.
“Well,” I said, “if you can keep your stick in mothballs for a few more days, there’s something else I’d like you to look into.”
“Sure. Business before pleasure.”
I told him about the dog lady and that she appeared not to be handicapped. He joined the rest of us on the side of outrage. I gave him the address and asked him to check with neighbors and keep a watch on her and see what was what. Same pay. He agreed.
***
The sun was high in the eastern sky, and the temperature had warmed to the low twenties by the time Ben and I pulled into the Bear Arms parking lot. I picked up my folder with the photos, and we got our bags from the trunk. We registered to shoot, asked for the manager, and looked at shotguns while we waited. A few minutes later a large man with a long ponytail and a pistol on his belt introduced himself as Walter, the manager, and asked how he could help.
I showed him my license and introduced Ben.
“We’re looking into something that involves one of your clients and want to have a chat.”
The ‘happy to be of help’ look on his face disappeared pretty fast and was replaced by what I would call unfriendly.
“What my clients do is their own business. Now if you’ll—”
“Hang on a second, Walter. We’re going to do some shooting, so we’re clients too. I do understand and agree with your views. But we’re actually working for one of your clients.”
After a long ten seconds of silence, he asked who the client was.
“Marty Sparin.”
I expected to hear that he had no idea who that was and was surprised that he did.
“Is Marty in trouble?”
“You know all your clients by name?”
He laughed and shook his head, which sent his ponytail over one shoulder. “No. Just the ones who place in tournaments. We have quarterly shooting tournaments, and Marty has come in second place in the last three. He’d really like to win.”
“Would you look at a photo?”
“Sure, but let’s go to the office.”
As we walked toward narrow stairs at the back of the room, I wondered how Walter was going to fit. He did, but not by much. His office was the only room at the top. It was over the range, and we could hear the constant, muffled sound of gunfire. It was a bit unnerving, but to Walter it was the sound of money. We all sat, and I laid the stack of photos on his desk. Marty’s was on top.
“Yup, that’s Marty. Nice guy. You didn’t answer if he’s in trouble.”
I shook my head. “No, he’s not. We’re working on something for his boss.”
The intercom buzzed. Walter leaned down to it.
“Yeah.”
“Boss, I’ve got a questionable ID. You wanna take a look?”
“Yeah, I’ll be down in a few.” He sat back up and looked up at me. “His boss is in trouble?”
Ben and I looked at each other and Ben said, “You don’t know what Marty does?”
“Don’t know and don’t care. Why? Any reason I should?”
I figured Marty had a right to privacy. “No, no reason at all.”
I reached to pick up the photos and the bottom two separated from the pile.
“Hey,” said Walter, “that’s Jamie.”
Walter didn’t see my surprise. He had picked up the picture and was studying it.
“Jamie?” I said. “Two of your clients are in my stack?”
He looked suspicious and defensive. “You trying to pin something on me?”
I quickly reassured him. “No, not at all. Just seems odd them being in the stack and you knowing both of their names. You told us how you know Marty. That makes sense. But how do you know Jamie?”
He laughed. “I told you he came in second place, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, she came in first.”
This time he noticed my surprise and smiled. “Gotta love a woman who can shoot.”
“That opens up more questions. Can you spare a few more minutes?”
“Sure. But I gotta take care of an ID. You gents wait here. I’ll be back.”
Ben had a smile on his face. “This keeps getting better.”
“Sure does. I think I’ve used up my quota of coincidences for the month. Jimmy told me she had never been in the back room, and he was the only one she had ever talked to. Somebody’s lying.”
“Maybe everyone,” Ben said.
We both looked around the room. Lots of pictures, many signed by some big names. As I looked, I let my thoughts wander.
“I just had a bizarre thought, Spencer.”
“So did I. You first.”
His eyes narrowed as he turned toward me. “If Joey was going to hire a bodyguard, it’d be someone who could shoot, right?”
“Right. And if you want someone who would be inconspicuous, why not get someone who would be inconspicuous in plain view?”
Ben just nodded.
I thought back to my meeting Joey at Riverview. I had looked for a bodyguard as he walked away… but I wasn’t looking for a woman.
“You think it’s possible?”
“Anything’s possible. But likely?”
He shrugged. “Answers all the questions.”
“The biggest one of which is why she hangs around the parlor so much.”
Walter’s slow footsteps were obvious coming up the stairs.
“Bad ID?” I asked as he sat down.
“Couldn’t tell for sure. But I don’t take any chances. The kid was pissed off that I wouldn’t let him shoot, but better one pissed off customer than paying fines and being investigated.”
“You think it’s possible the state sends in ringers to test you?”
I think Walter shrugged, but it was hard to tell for sure. Nothing moved much.
“I’ve thought of that. Anything’s possible.”
“We were just discussing that,” I said. “Would you give us a little more information about Jamie?”
“Maybe. Depends on what it is.”
“Fair enough. I’m wondering if she and Marty knew each other outsid
e of here.”
“How would I know?” He moved his bulk around in the chair until he was comfortable.
“Did they come in together? Leave together? Were they here separately?”
“Well, I don’t remember too far back, but they were pretty friendly at the last tournament, and they left together.”
“Your records would show when they were here, wouldn’t they?”
“They would, but that’s not something I share with the public.”
Ben was looking at the pictures on the walls.
“I can understand that. But the police would be a different matter.”
The unfriendly look was back. I had no doubt that a person in Walter’s business would not be happy to even hear the word police. He answered with something close to a sneer. “I thought you said you were just looking into something. Now we’re talking police. I think we’re done talking.”
I tried to reason with him. “Walter, we’re not accusing you of anything, and you’ve been very helpful. I’m just saying if something comes of this that’d be something the police will be interested in.”
“Well, if they are, they are. I’m sure they’ll have no trouble walking in the front door with a warrant and telling me that. You boys have a good day.”
I put my card on the desk and asked him to call if he thought of anything else. He didn’t answer.
Ben and I shot for a half hour, and that was about all I could handle. My Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum was a powerhouse, but it was heavy and wore my arm out. I only used .38 Special cartridges on the range. The .357 cartridges were eardrum shattering, even with ear protection, and the extra residue from the explosion made cleaning even more of a chore. I used a Smith and Wesson Model 60 for work that fit nicely in a shoulder holster. It only had five shots instead of six, but I figured if I needed that extra shot I was in more trouble than I could handle anyway. The magnum was more accurate, but the Model 60 was easy to carry, and if I was in the kind of trouble one might get into in this job, my target would be bigger than a nickel, and accuracy wasn’t that important. But when I shot with Rosie, I used the magnum and all the shots were in the bull’s-eye. We were both expert shots. The winner had the smallest tear. I didn’t like carrying a gun and only took it when I thought the situation might be dangerous. But I did realize that couldn’t be predicted.