by R. B. Conroy
“Fine Carol, busy place tonight,” Alex observed.
“Yeah, it’s a nice weekend for a change, everybody’s up here. A drink to start with?” she asked.
“Sounds like a winner,” Alex quipped.
“I’ll have a glass of Riesling,” Nicky ordered.
“Bud Light for me,” Alex smiled. “Got any of those frosty mugs tonight?”
“Sure do. Comin’ right up.”
………
“Got another iced tea back there, bartender?”
“Yeah, be right with you.”
Herbert “Hawk” Barger had been an agent with the FBI for more than thirty years and during that time had distinguished himself as a gritty, take no prisoners type of agent. He gained fame as the lead agent in the break-up of a huge numbers racket in his hometown of Chicago some twenty years earlier. He felt he held some status in the bureau and didn’t like being on assignment at some lake in Indiana on a Friday night. And to make matters worse, the assignment interrupted his usual Friday night ritual—an evening on Rush Street in Chicago, ducking in and out of his favorite bars and restaurants well into the wee hours of the morning.
Hawk’s day job was to sit at a desk in the field office on West Roosevelt Road and give orders to the many agents on assignment in the greater Chicago area. Special assignments, such as these, were usually left to the new guys or rookies. But his boss had told him he needed his ‘best’ for this stake-out, and, as was the case so many times before in his illustrious career, Hawk was put temporarily on special assignment. And this meant that his time was their time until he could get back to his desk job and a more predictable schedule. He turned to his young partner, Jake Collier, seated on the bar stool next to him and groused, “Where’s that motel again?”
“Goshen.”
“How far is Goshen from here?”
“Fifteen minutes—it’s the closest motel I could find that had a room available. They’re having a bass tournament on the lake this weekend and all the local motels were booked.”
The bartender banged Hawk’s iced tea on the bar, seemingly a little annoyed that the two men weren’t buying the more expensive alcoholic drinks. Hawk shot him a hard stare.
“Look here,” Jake ordered as he slipped a photo from the inside pocket of his suit coat and pointed it toward Hawk.
“It’s a picture of that Crane fellow.”
“So what?”
“Look over there, near the corner of the room. See the guy with the good lookin’ chick—the guy in the ball cap?”
Hawk looked over his thick shoulder. “It’s some guy with a good lookin’ broad, so what?”
“It’s him, Hawk, it’s Crane.”
As if to accommodate the curious agents, the unknowing Alex lifted his hat higher on his forehead as Hawk turned to look.
“You’re good, Collier, you’re good. It’s him alright.”
“The work-up said they liked to go to The Frog. We hit it right.”
“He’s kind of nice looking for an old guy,” Barger mused.
“Yeah…and he’s a rich bastard too; they say homes cost over a million bucks on this puddle.” Collier shook his head.
“Hmmm… a million, that’s steep.” Hawk turned slowly back toward the bar. “Think I’ll stay on Rush Street and leave these rich folks alone.”
“Me too.”
………
Away from his work and trying desperately to forget the stunning events of the day before, Alex looked admiringly at his lovely wife’s pretty blue eyes, pouty lips, and tanned skin. “You look lovely tonight, my dear,” he said softly.
Nicky smiled at someone behind him. Suddenly he felt two hands crash on his shoulders.
“Crane, you old rascal, didn’t expect to see you up here.”
With Nicky laughing out loud, Alex spun around to greet his good friend and attorney, Ted Blue, “Why, hello Blue, how are you?”
“P…pretty darn good if I don’t s…say so myself.”
“And how are you, Carrie?”
“Great thanks, and let me apologize for my drunken husband. We got up here about noon and he’s been at it ever since. I’m afraid my little teddy bear is feeling no pain.” She grabbed his cheek with her forefinger and thumb and shook it—a little too aggressively, Alex thought.
“Well…uh won’t you have a seat,” Nicky offered.
“Don’t m…mind if I do. T…thought you’d never ask,” Ted replied.
Carrie frowned, “Are you sure you want us to sit down?”
“I hate to tell you this Carrie, but he’s not much better when he is sober.” Alex mused.
“Have you eaten?” Nicky asked.
“Yes, we ate a little while ago,” Carrie replied. She leaned closer and whispered to the surprised couple. “I’m so sorry. Ted hardly ever drinks, but when he does he really makes up for lost time. We won’t stay long.”
“Oh….heck, stay as long as you want. We just ordered a large pizza. You can help us eat it. It’s too big for us.” The gracious Nicky smiled warmly.
Alex smiled at his drunken friend, “I’m glad you came up to the lake; I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“What a…about?’
“That ten grand you owe me from our poker game last week.”
“I’m not that frickin’ drunk, Crane!” He poked Alex in the shoulder nearly knocking him off his chair. A smiling Alex righted himself and scooted back to the table. “I’ll settle for five.”
“Okay five, you’re gonna need it when Barnes and Vito get d…done with you.”
Alex’s smile quickly faded; the shocking news from Chicago on Friday rushed through his mind. “What do you mean, Ted? What about Barnes and Vito?
“T…they’re not cooperating with my inquiry. They say they need to talk with the SEC, b..before they can give us any branch filings. S…something smells, if y…you ask me. I think they’re stalling for time.”
With Dulin’s discoveries in the Elmwood Park office, those branch applications didn’t seem as important at this point. But something kept telling Alex that they could be part of a bigger picture.
“Alex! You promised me you wouldn’t talk business. So please, can’t this wait until later? I think Ted would be better able to answer your questions at another time dear.” Nicky sounded serious.
“Okay, okay.” With everything that was at stake, it was excruciating for Alex to end the conversation with his attorney, but he had made Nicky a promise long ago not to talk business when they were at the lake.
“H…Heck, you can always come to w…work for us, Alex,” Ted started to fall off his chair.
Alex and Carrie leapt from their chairs at exactly the same time. “We’d better get going,” she said red faced. “I think Ted needs to go home.”
Alex hooked his arm around Ted’s waist, Carrie grabbed under his arm. They struggled as they lifted the tall man to his feet.
“Did you come by boat?” Alex asked.
“No, we drove the Expedition,” Carrie replied.
“Q…quit your fussing Crane, I’m okay.” Ted pushed Alex’s arm away, as he stood, still leaning on Carrie. “Carrie can g…get me to the truck.”
“Sure?”
“H…Hell yes, Alex!”
“I’ll call you Monday,” Alex said.
He watched as his friends struggled to the main entrance, pausing briefly as two men in suits and ties approached the door. The larger of the two men motioned for Ted and Carrie to go ahead of them. Both men then turned and nodded at Alex. Nicky, her back to the door, didn’t notice. A chill went up Alex’s spine at the gesture from the over-dressed men. This was lake country; even the wealthiest of the wealthy dressed very casually at The Frog. Shorts and tank tops were the normal attire. Who were these men in suits and why were they at The Frog? Could they be the same men their neighbor Millie noticed earlier in the day? And what about the black sedan that Nicky had mentioned earlier in the week? Things were starting to add up and Alex didn’t l
ike it one bit.
Nicky smiled, “He’ll be okay honey; don’t worry.”
“Oh yes…yes. Carrie will take good care of him,” Alex chuckled nervously. “He’ll be so embarrassed tomorrow.”
“I know. Excuse me, honey, I have to run to the ladies room. If Carol comes, order me another glass of Reisling.”
“Okay.”
Alex took a long sip of his beer and watched as Nicky made her way to the ladies room. The men at the door were being too obvious; something wasn’t right here. It was a blatant attempt to intimidate Alex and his family. The stakes in this game of big money were ratcheting up. He slid his iPhone from his pocket and checked to see where Nicky was—she was waiting near the occupied ladies room. This gave him the time he needed; he quickly pushed the speed dial.
“Hello, Barnes?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry to bother you. Hope you aren’t in the middle of dinner.”
“No, I just finished having dinner at St. Elmo’s and now I’m having a drink with my lovely Ellen.”
Alex glanced over at Nicky; she was still waiting and peering out the large window at the channel. “I’m up at the lake, Barnes.”
“Well, isn’t that nice, good for you. Hope you’re having a great time.”
“Not really, Barnes. Seems these two gentlemen in dark suits have been following us around for a couple days. You know anything about that?”
There was a pause on the other end. “Well…uh, hell no, why would I know anything about something like that?” Barnes was speaking quietly, apparently so Ellen couldn’t hear him.
“They’re dressed to the nines; they look like Federal agents to me. You’re the guy with ties to the Govern-ment Barnes, tell me about it.” Alex could hear Barnes excusing himself from the table. A few moments later he could hear the sound of the traffic outside the restaurant.
“Now you listen to me, Alex, I don’t know anything about this.”
“Things are getting real messy, Barnes. Attorney Blue told me that Vito isn’t cooperating with a routine audit and now a couple of goons in black suits are following my wife and I around at the lake. I don’t like it and I’m getting a little nervous.”
“Like I said Alex, I don’t know anything about this. So if you’ll excuse…”
Alex interrupted, “I want you to call some of your big shot friends and get these guys outa here. My grandkids are coming up tomorrow for the weekend. I don’t want my grandkids to see those guys, Barnes—got it?” Alex was incensed. He never dreamed his denial of the TARP money would lead to something as dark and menacing as this.
Barnes replied nervously, “I really must be going.”
Nicky was working her way back to the table. “Just fix it, Barnes. Nicky’s coming, I gotta go.”
“How can I fix it?”
Fuming, Alex covered his mouth, “Fix it, you hear me? Fix it!” Alex quickly slid his phone back into his pocket. Nicky spoke briefly to some folks at a nearby table and then settled into her chair. Carol was close behind with the pizza.
“I’m starving,” Nicky said.
“Another Riesling for my lovely wife and a Bud Light for me, Carol.”
“Right away!” The busy waitress squeezed the pizza into the middle of the cluttered table and hurried off.
“Who was that?” Nicky queried.
A startled Alex replied nervously, “Oh, sorry about the phone, I…uh I called Carrie to see how Ted was doing.”
Nicky’s eyebrows rose. “And how is he?”
“Not so good, he got sick just before they got to the car.” Alex raised his mug immediately wanting to change the subject. “Here’s to another great weekend at the lake, my dear.”
Nicky smiled, their glasses clicked. She reached forward and gently rubbed his arm. “No more business calls, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And we’d better eat quickly and get back to the cottage. You have to get up early and go to the shooting range.”
“You’re right, six A.M. rolls around pretty fast.”
Chapter 11
Friday night was Louie’s night on the town, and that meant a night on Rush Street. The predictable evening always started with a late dinner at Butch McGuire’s. The legendary restaurant, with its Hugh Hefner nudes decorating the walls, fit Louie’s nostalgic look at life to a tee. Not a big player in Chicago politics, the frumpy bank president was still a well known figure in the many bars, restaurants, and coffee shops on the famous stretch that was located just a few blocks north of the loop in downtown Chicago.
………
With the bright red lights blinking on the towers atop the famous Hancock Center behind him, Louie speared his last chunk of filet, chewing it slowly until it was gone. A dainty eater for a large man, Louie dabbed his puffy lips gently with the cloth napkin and then laid it neatly on the table. He glanced at the melting ice in his whiskey and water. There was enough brownish residue left for one final swig. He lifted the rounded glass and sipped it empty.
“Rachel!”
“Yes, Mr. Campano?”
“Check please.” Louie glanced at his watch. It was 10:36.
“Coming right up.”
Louie left his table and shared niceties with a few familiar patrons at the bar before paying his tab and exiting the comfortable environs of the well-known eatery. Once outside, he waved his huge arm in the air and quickly hailed a cab. He always left his car parked in a nearby parking garage for safe keeping, choosing to use the more efficient cab system to navigate the busy streets of the bustling playground. Over the years, Louie had gotten to know most of the drivers. The drivers jealously protected their territories. And like most other folks who frequented Rush Street, Louie had his favorite cabbies.
A few seconds later, a shiny yellow cab veered to a sudden stop at the curb in front of Louie. He hurried over and climbed into the backseat.
“How ya’s doin’ Louie?”
“Fine Maurice, and how are you?”
“Pretty good, I guess.” The cabbie laughed nervously. “Where ya headin’ man?”
“Condos.”
“Okay.”
Maurice was not one of Louie favorites. Although he was a friendly sort, he was one of the younger drivers on the circuit and Louie knew it would be an exciting ride. It didn’t take long for the action to start. Horns blared as the young daredevil gunned the cab and pulled out in front of several passing cars on Rush Street. Maurice shouted profanities and waved his fist at the other drivers as he forced his way into the busy traffic. Louie grabbed tightly onto the armrest as the young cabbie wove his way in and out of traffic, spewing his colorful epithets along the way. This ride to the condos would be a long one for Louie.
“This traffic is getting worse all the time. These A-holes don’t know how to drive,” Maurice bellowed. The young driver was always just one aggravating event away from totally losing it.
Louie had hooked up with Maurice a few weeks earlier. That night Maurice had informed him that he had found religion and would not be using foul language any more. Louie found this promise amusing as another profanity laced diatribe came blaring from the front seat, followed by a muffled, “Forgive me Lord.” Suddenly, Louie jerked violently forward as Maurice slammed on the brakes. Falling forward, Louie glanced through the front windshield at the light above as it blinked from yellow to red.
“Scuse me.” Maurice said apologetically.
His heart pounding rapidly, Louie collected himself. “I’m in no hurry Maurice.”
“I know ya ain’t, Louie, but I am. I got me a lot a bills to pay and I owe support on three keeds on top a that. Gotta get me as many rides a night as I can.”
The light turned green, the engine revved, Louie’s head bumped against the headrest.
“You gotta a woman or something in those condos, Mr. Campano?”
Louie’s brow lifted, surprised and annoyed by the personal question from the aggressive cabbie. “Maybe,” he replied.
�
��You sure go there a lot.”
This time Louie refused to answer the inquisitive driver, temporarily ending the line of questioning. Several minutes later the cab came to an abrupt stop.
“Here ya are, brother. Be careful in there, man, those keeds get expensive,” the young driver grinned slyly at Louie.
Louie handed him a twenty. He always gave the cabbies more than enough to cover the ride. Then he gently patted Maurice’s bony shoulder and said, “Take care.”
Louie quickly exited the cab and hurried into the vestibule of the thirty story condominium complex located just off Rush Street. He stepped inside the sealed cubicle and pushed the buzzer for Room 3025.
“Yeah?” came the terse reply.
“It’s me, Louie.”
There was a click on the speaker and then a loud buzzer sounded; Louie reached quickly for the door handle before the buzzer stopped and pushed through to the inside. A few feet down the hall, he stopped near the elevators and pushed the top button.
The Tower Condos were located on the west edge of the Rush Street area and housed some of the most expensive units on the upscale North side. A base unit, featuring just one bedroom and roughly a thousand square feet, would set the buyer back over a million dollars. With a monthly maintenance fee of six hundred dollars, it was indeed pricey.
There were only four units on the top floor; each of them was well over four thousand square feet. Louie couldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams what they would cost. But he loved being invited to the upscale condo for the weekly parties. It gave him a chance to hang out with the upper crust of Chicago’s busy night scene.
Louie exited on the thirtieth floor. Then, as usual, he paused to admire the surroundings in the wide hallway. No matter how many times he made this visit to “The Tower” on the top floor, he was always overwhelmed by the lush carpeting, expensive oils, and fresh flower arrangements that decorated the beautiful corridor.
As he approached Room 3025, music and animated conversation could be heard. Louie recognized the mellow saxophone sounds of his favorite jazz musician, Boney Jones. The folks in Chicago loved jazz, it served as a kind of national anthem for the city of broad shoulders. If you frequented the night scene in Chicago, you had to love jazz—it was a given.