With that, I stood up. “If you want to speak with me further, let me give you the name of—”
The words caught in my throat.
“Your lawyer?” Biegler grinned. “If you mean Harvey Blalock, I’m afraid he’s no longer in practice. Given your track record, though, you better find another one fast. I hear his former mistress, that Asian hottie, is pretty good…”
The Lieutenant and I both got lucky. Harry Polk, moving surprisingly fast for a man of his size, had his big arms wrapped around me before I was halfway out of my chair. Fists clenched, I was just about to vault over Biegler’s desk and punch the officious creep’s lights out.
At the same time, Jerry Banks had launched himself from his position against the wall and placed two hands on my shoulders. Unnecessary, since I’d already begun resuming my seat. But I guess he figured it’d look good to his Lieutenant if he mucked in to help Polk.
Meanwhile, Biegler had reeled back in panic, using his feet to propel his wheeled chair back from his desk. Hitting the wall behind him with such force that a couple of the framed photos fell to the floor, glass breaking on impact.
Literally shaking with rage, Biegler jumped to his feet, pointing a thin forefinger at me.
“Assaulting a police officer! You son of a bitch, Rinaldi, you’ve done it now! You arrogant, grandstanding piece of shit, you’re spending tonight in a cell! Sergeant, cuff him!”
“Aw, c’mon, Lieutenant.” Polk released me, then motioned for Banks to back away, too. “Things got outta hand, that’s all. You know the Doc here’s a hothead. You and me laugh about it all the time, right? ’Bout what a loose cannon the bastard is?”
“Which is why I want him arrested, Polk, goddammit!”
“Go ahead and arrest me,” I said, with a bravado I didn’t quite feel. “But I didn’t assault you, Biegler. I merely stood up forcefully, on my way to storming out of here.”
“That’s crap—”
“No it isn’t. Nobody in here saw me take a swing at you. You don’t have a mark on you, either. So go ahead and arrest me. I’ll sue you, and the Department, for false arrest, slander, and emotional distress. And I’ll sell it to any jury in the city.”
“Listen, you…”
But Biegler had already lost a good deal of his bluster. Like many—but certainly not all—bullies, he was easily cowed when challenged.
A tense silence settled on the room for half a minute.
Finally, Polk looked at his boss and spread his hands.
“So, Lieutenant, what do ya want me to do with this mook?”
Biegler took a number of deep breaths, then settled back into his chair. Hands folded serenely on his thin chest.
“Show Dr. Rinaldi to the door, Sergeant.” Studiously avoiding eye contact with me. “And make sure he knows that we expect him to be available for further questioning at any time.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him, sir.”
And he did, once we were out in the hall. As he gripped my shirt collar in his meaty fists.
“See what you almost did, you lunatic? You coulda ended up in a cell.”
“Biegler’s never going to cut me some slack, Harry. Why should I give him any?”
“’Cause we’re the goddam law and you’re not! Why can’t you just sit in your office like a good little shrink and steal your patients’ money? It’s a cake job, there ain’t no heavy liftin’, and people think you’re a fuckin’ saint.”
“I’m a psychologist, not a shrink. We’ve been over this.”
With a gale-like sigh of disgust, he released my shirt. But from the look on his face, I could tell this wasn’t just Polk’s usual bombast. He was clearly angry.
I tried another tack. No snark.
“Look, Harry, we’ve been through a lot together these past few years. Not, I admit, that you were always happy about it. But I’m damned grateful, because you’re one of the best cops on the force. Believe me, I know. I’ve been around cops all my life, including my old man.”
“So? What’s your fuckin’ point?”
“My point is, we know each other. Hell, we’ve saved each other’s lives. How many guys can say that? And one other thing: we both know what a weasel Biegler is. You think he’d ever have your back when the shit goes down?”
Polk chortled. “Biegler? Not for a second.”
“Well, then, fuck him. You have to kiss his ass because he’s your boss, I don’t have to because he isn’t mine. I’m not saying it’s fair, but it’s the way it is. That’s no reason for it to mess with our relationship.”
“I hate to tell ya, Doc, we ain’t got a relationship.”
It was my turn to smile. “I hate to tell you, Harry, but yes we do. So we might as well make the best of it.”
He gave me one of his favored scowls, but I wasn’t having any. I turned and headed down the corridor to the elevator.
Polk called out to me.
“I don’t care what you said to Biegler, I know somethin’s goin’ on with you, Doc. I can feel it in my gut. Soon as I dope out what it is, you and me are gonna have another chat…”
I believed him.
Chapter Thirty-five
On my way out of downtown, I called Gloria on my new throwaway cell and filled her in on the meeting with Biegler.
“Shit, Danny, you’re lucky I’m not on my way down there to bail you out of jail. I know guys like Biegler. They may not seem so smart, but they can be damn savvy. With great survival instincts. Pricks like him often end up running things.”
“True enough. Any word from our favorite psychopath?”
“No. Radio silence, as Lyle likes to call it.”
“By the way, don’t tell him, but I’m going to swing by Noah’s Ark and get Lyle a good bottle of bourbon. He’s been picking up the tab for the liquor since this thing started.”
She was quiet for a few moments.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Danny? I mean, with all the stress and everything? Especially last night?”
“Why?”
“You sound…I don’t know…almost euphoric. Like you’re overcompensating for how upsetting last night was. Like you’re trying to prove you’re still on top of your game.”
My first instinct was to react defensively, but I quickly tamped it down.
“Look, I understand what you’re saying. In fact, I’ve been wondering since I left the precinct if I didn’t lose it up there because of all the stress. Acting out my aggression against Biegler because I’m unable to do so with Maddox.”
Stopped at a light, I gave myself another few moments to collect my thoughts.
“And it’s also possible that what happened last night at the cemetery was more traumatic than I think. Or allow myself to accept. Which is pretty ironic, considering what I do for a living. The patients I treat.”
“Then why don’t you give yourself a break?”
“Because if I let myself sink into despair, then I’m useless. To you and Barnes. And especially to myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“No matter what’s churning inside me, Gloria, I have to live with it. At least for now. Or else Maddox wins. And I can’t let him win.”
“I get that, Danny. But please be careful. Just because you want to be on top of your game doesn’t mean you are.”
“Duly noted. And just as an observation: I’m afraid you’ve been hanging out with me too long. Some of that psych lingo you were using had an oddly familiar ring to it.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I’m starting to worry about that, too. Maybe we should just stick to the sex, and leave all the deep-dish talk to old shamans like Lyle.”
“Works for me.”
After we hung up, I swung onto Second Avenue. Afternoon traffic in and out of the city had thickened, made even worse by a light sprinkling of rain. The cloud
s to the left promised more in the hours, and maybe days, ahead, so I checked with the all-news radio station. My own personal forecast was confirmed.
As always when it rains, the Monongahela had turned gun-metal gray, its surface pock-marked by the falling drops. With my windows slightly open for the air, the familiar river smells wafted into the car. Along with that of burnt, oily smoke from the few passing tugs and barges.
It was nearing four when I parked at the curb about a block from Noah’s Ark. The wind had kicked up, so the raindrops pelted me at an angle as I made the short walk to the bar.
Inside, professional drinkers and office workers who’d finished early for the day occupied most of the tables and booths, though there were still a couple of stools free at the bar. I took one.
To my surprise, Charlene was working the taps.
“Where’s Noah?”
She shrugged. “For some reason, he keeps coming in and out of the kitchen. But with the place gettin’ busy, I’m gonna need his sorry ass behind the bar full-time.”
“Is he okay?”
An indulgent sigh. “I think he’s having one of his bad days, ya know? Shuffling around, mumbling.”
“Is he taking his meds?”
“Every day. I make him take them in front of me.”
“What does Nancy say?”
“I left a message for Dr. Mendors, but she’s out of town because of what happened at the clinic…”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”
I’d seen on the news the week before that Ten Oaks had suffered water damage when a main line broke, so the staff and patients had been temporarily relocated to a wing of a nearby hospital. “According to Clinic Director Dr. Nancy Mendors,” the anchor had said, “repairs would probably take a month.”
Charlene did little to hide her irritation. “Yeah, she and her fiancé are on some kind of pre-wedding honeymoon trip. And the shrink she has covering for her is a jerk.”
“Knowing Nancy, I’m sure he’s competent. But, okay, if she doesn’t get back to you soon, and you’re still worried about Noah, here’s a number where you can reach me.”
I gave her the number of my prepaid cell, which she eyed suspiciously. But she didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell.
Just then, Noah came out of the kitchen, munching on a huge salami sandwich. Other than his hair being more disheveled than usual, he looked about the same to me.
After he took over for Charlene, who hustled off to see to the customers at the booths, I made a point of staring at his eyes. Checking for any telltale signs.
To which he responded with a laugh. “Just the usual crazy, Danny. Not too little, not too much. So what can I get you?”
“Whatever’s on tap. I’ll also need one of your best bottles of bourbon. To go.”
“No shit? You plannin’ a big night?”
“It’s for a friend. Going through hard times,” I added, hoping it gave a touch of verisimilitude to my story.
“I got just the thing.”
He poured me an Iron City from a keg, then went down to the end of the bar and came back with a bottle of Wild Turkey.
“Your friend’ll like this,” he said. “I call it ‘Milk of Amnesia.’ Good for whatever’s buggin’ you.”
As I examined the label, he turned and clicked on the bar’s wide-screen TV, which was already set to one of the local news channels. The anchor was midway through a report about the death of the cemetery security guard.
“Other than confirming that Mr. Lawlor’s death was a homicide, the police are releasing no information about the case. However, sources within the Department report that there was little evidence at the scene and no eyewitnesses. Beechwood officers were alerted to the crime by an anonymous tip. Any viewers with information that could aid in the investigation are asked to contact their local police.”
Though I hadn’t expected to be connected to last night’s events, I still found myself breathing a sigh of relief. As for Sebastian Maddox, he continued, like a ghost, to precipitate one horror after another, yet remained unseen. Unknown.
Except to me. And, of course, Barnes and Gloria.
Thinking of them, a worrisome notion occurred to me. While I was up at Barbara’s gravesite, Maddox would have had plenty of time to plant another tracking device on my car in the lot.
Maybe he’d figured, after our having found the one he’d wanted us to find, we’d have our guards down. Not expecting him to plant another. It’s what I would assume, if I were him.
Finishing my beer, I paid Noah for the bourbon and got up from the stool. More customers had come in, and he was busily moving back and forth behind the bar. Mumbling to himself.
“You sure you’re okay?” Catching him between taking orders.
He grinned. “I will be.”
With that, he swiveled awkwardly, clicked off the TV news, and turned on the bar’s sound system. The muscular harmonics of Ornette Coleman’s alto sax wafted through the air.
Noah jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the TV.
“See? No more bad news. Best medicine in the world.”
l l l l l
Before getting into my car again, I duplicated the search for a tracking device that I’d seen Gloria perform. Finding nothing outside the Mustang, I climbed inside, put the bottle on the seat next to me, and repeated the interior search.
Again, nothing. Though I was glad I checked. At this point, I no longer knew whether I was being paranoid or merely careful. The difference was now lost on me.
However, as I headed up Second Avenue toward the bridge, I called Barnes on his burner cell and relayed my concerns. To my chagrin, he quickly confirmed them.
“I’m sure you did an adequate job checking for the GPS.” Trying not to sound condescending. “But Maddox may have planted it in such a way as to make it impossible to find.”
“Assuming that’s true, then I’ll lead him right to where we are as soon as I return to the motel.”
“If he doesn’t already know. Which means we have to change locations again. Just to be safe, once you get back here, we’ll leave your car in the lot. You can ride with Gloria or me.”
“I don’t like the idea of leaving my car unattended for who knows how long.”
“Uh-huh.” Which was Barnes’ way of allowing me enough time to realize we had little choice.
“Okay, Lyle,” I said. “I’ll be there soon.”
As I drove up the parkway toward the motel, it occurred to me that Maddox wasn’t the only ghost haunting the Steel City. Lyle Barnes, Gloria Reese, and I had also become rootless, invisible spirits, without a tangible presence in our own lives. Cut off from family, friends, and colleagues. Engaged in a duel to the death of which everyone around us was unaware. With an enemy about whom no one knew.
l l l l l
The rain had dwindled to a fine mist, but between that and the bank of purplish clouds stretching to the horizon, it already felt like night. I switched on my headlights.
Suddenly, less than five miles from the motel, my dashboard GPS came on. Automatically. The same authoritative female voice emanating from its speaker.
“Take the next exit and make a left under the highway.”
Stunned, I almost drove off the road, fish-tailing on the slick surface. Working the steering wheel and pumping the brakes, I managed to right myself. Stay in the lane.
“Look for the entrance ramp for I-376 East,” the voice continued, “and get back on the highway.”
I stiffened, my breath coming in staccato bursts.
It was Maddox. Like before, he’d hacked my GPS. And was sending me back the way I’d just come.
My cell still in its dash cradle, I called Barnes again. It rang a dozen times.
He didn’t pick up.
Heart racing, I tried Gloria’s throwaway cell.
Again, no answer.
Thoughts tumbled wildly in my brain, like thrown dice. Barnes had been right. Maddox must know we were staying in the motel. As I feared, he’d put a tracker on my car while it was unguarded last night in the cemetery lot. So when I’d returned to our rooms afterwards, he found out our location.
But where had he planted the tracker? I’d searched for some sign of it, both inside the car and out. Maybe, due to the misting rain, I’d somehow missed it under the chassis…
Then, staring at the dashboard GPS, the answer came to me. My jaw tightened. Talk about hiding in plain sight.
One hand on the wheel, I reached with the other and felt around behind the GPS device. There was a small, nodule-like bulge in the back. With a quick tug, I pulled it from the magnetic strip holding it to the plastic sheath. And held the dime-sized tracker between my thumb and forefinger.
Son of a bitch!
I angrily threw it to the floor, then realized that the exit ramp I’d been instructed to take was up ahead.
I debated what to do. One part of me wanted to ignore it, and continue on to the motel. Maybe Barnes and Gloria were in danger there, and needed help.
On the other hand, what if Maddox had already taken them, and was using the dash GPS to direct me to where they were?
Because I knew one thing for sure. If he was planning to torture or kill them, he’d certainly want me to witness it.
l l l l l
As instructed by the GPS, I made a right turn just before the tunnel, and then up the hill to Grandview Avenue.
Maddox was leading me back to my house.
It was nearing six, and my neighbors along both sides of the street had already turned on their porch lights. Although the rain had stopped, a chilled dampness hung in the air, above which ominous clouds scudded across the sky.
As the GPS voice announced that I’d reached my destination, I pulled into my driveway. No other vehicles were parked at the curb for a half-block in either direction.
Head Wounds Page 27