Chicago Blue: A Red Riley Adventure

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Chicago Blue: A Red Riley Adventure Page 11

by Stephanie Andrews


  I propped myself up on my elbows so I could look up at Ruby as she told the story. She was looking somewhere in the far-off distance.

  “We brought a lot of people. You know the saying, You come for the King, don’t miss the King.”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “Well, Tomaso’s life was on the line. And, this was going to be the big takedown that made Captain Earl had been waiting for. So very important, very tense. Your father was there that day, too.”

  “What? You never told me that!”

  She shrugged. “It never came up. We worked together a lot in those days. He was a good guy, and he didn’t like mobsters,” she added pointedly.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. They made the whole unit. I’m not sure how. Somebody must have talked. It’s likely Colatano had people inside the force.”

  Hmm. I thought about what Nick had said about the Shelby’s ability to access police files by knowing the right people.

  “I came out of the elevator. Boom. They have a knife to my throat. Colatano’s not there, because of the tip off. It’s two of his guys. They search me, not gently I can tell you. They find the wire and that’s it, Earl calls it and everyone rushes the scene. Like I said, there’s only two of them, and about six cops, so then Colatano’s guy, Mike Minneola, he’s using me as a human shield while his partner, Stevie Guigino jumps behind a car and starts firing on anyone who shows their face.

  “Minneola, he knows time is not on his side in a situation like this— they’ve got limited bullets and nowhere to go, he’s backed up to a guard rail with no easy way out — he’s trying to slide sideways back toward the elevator while Guigino is keeping them busy. Basically leaving Guigino to fend for himself. The cops are all jumpy, because now they know it’s a setup. Maybe there’s more men hiding, maybe a bomb. Who knows?”

  I’ve sat all the way up by this time, hanging on Ruby’s every word.

  “I catch Earl’s eye,” she continues. “He’s about 30 feet away, behind some big pickup truck. We give each other a look. He nods. I show him my hand with three fingers extended. He nods. Two. One. I grab Minneola’s hand and pull down and turn, dragging him around until he’s between me and the captain. Before he can react, the captain shoots him three times in the back.”

  “Oh my god!” I gasp. “What happened?”

  She shrugged.

  “Good plan, bad execution. The force of the shots pushed Minneola, and me with him, over the railing and down onto the level below. He hit the cement, and I landed on top of him,” she slapped her hand on the picnic table for emphasis, “or I would be dead now, too. My left leg was stretched out to the side as we went down, and it clipped the roof of a car, wham. Bye bye knee joint.”

  “Oooph,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “Ooph indeed,” agreed Ruby. “So, you see my point?”

  “Actually, no. Why are you telling me this?”

  “The next day, Sal Tomaso’s house explodes. Gas leak. He’s dead, along with his wife and two kids.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “Elgort Shelby. Marco Colatano. Same thing.”

  “But he’s—“

  “No but!” said Ruby fiercely. “There are no good mobsters. Like the hooker with the gold heart. Not real. I know this has been hard for you, Kay. I do,” she went on, talking over my objection. “But it’s making you a little crazy. A little wild. The means are not justified—“

  “By the ends?” I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “That’s easy for you to say. What happens to me if I get caught? You think they’ll just suddenly realize their mistake? C’mon Ruby. You know how this works. Close cases, as quickly as you can. That’s how they operate.

  “We will figure this out. Together,” Ruby said in a voice that sounded like pleading.

  “And if we can’t?” I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to show that I was not mad, but that I was unmoved. “If I have to leave the country, can you get me fake documents?”

  Ruby exhaled so long and mournfully that I thought she might deflate completely into a crumpled mess on the ground.

  “I’m just worried about you.”

  I gave her a hug.

  “I’m worried about me, too, but if there ever was a case of the means justifying the ends, this is it.”

  “I’m not agreeing with you, officially,” Ruby said, straightening up. “I’m just not actively disagreeing for the time being.”

  That seemed to be as good as I was going to get.

  “Great,” I said, “pulling out my phone and looking at the time. “I’ve got to go inside and get suited up for the ball game. We’ve got to leave in fifteen minutes.”

  Twenty-three

  Wrigley Field. One of my dad’s favorite places in the world. I used to sit next to him in section 108 and read. Harry Potter and, forgive me, those Lurlene McDaniel books where there’s always a kid dying. I’d look up when everyone cheered. Otherwise, I was in my own world.

  I felt a bit bad about it now; I’m sure Dad had wished I was really into it, he loved the Cubbies so much.

  It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny with a light breeze. The smell of ballpark food wafted my way as I sat down next to an older man wearing a Cubs cap low over his eyes, and oddly, a silk scarf that obscured part of his face.

  “That’s your idea of a disguise?”

  Aldo Frances looked over at me and did a double take. I was in my full Georgette Wrigley look, accessorized with dark glasses, a stylish black silk shirt, and my leather pants. I looked glamorous, which you wouldn’t think would be a good disguise, especially at a ball game, but I looked so different from my old self (who would have worn jeans and a Cubs sweatshirt) that it worked like a charm. Georgette Wrigley, Wrigley Field. Heck, maybe I own the place. Nicholas was right: it’s an easy name to remember.

  “Ms. Riley, my goodness, what a transformation!”

  “Thanks. I wish I could say the same about you. Nobody wears a scarf to a ballgame, Aldo.”

  “On the other hand,” he replied, “I’ve never been to a baseball game in my life, so it is very unlikely that anyone will be looking for me here.”

  “Great, then I picked a good spot.”

  “Are the Cubs a good team?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said distractedly. “All they need is some good hitting, some better pitching, and a little bit of fielding practice and they’ll have the pennant.”

  I was staring across the field to the seats behind the first base line, where Ruby was sitting watching me through binoculars. I lowered my sunglasses and winked at her, then raised them back up. It was hard for Ruby and I to stay mad at each other. What she had said to me stung, because parts of it were dead on, but she only said them because she loved me.

  “Have you found anything out, Ms. Riley?” asked Frances, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Not as much as I’d like, that’s why I contacted you. I’m hitting some dead ends.”

  “Well, perhaps together we can make some headway. I’ve heard absolutely nothing from the police.”

  The park turned out to be a good meeting place. There was no one seated next to Frances, and the woman on my other side was really into the game, and into her boyfriend, who was seated on the other side of her. There was a constant buzz of white noise, punctuated by cheers or groans. Aldo related to me his experience with the police while I kept my eye on Ruby, to make sure she was continuing to show the all-clear sign. If anyone in my section did anything suspicious, she let me know by taking off her hat.

  He knew all about my visit to Belinda Blalock, from the news, but was surprised at my success in hunting down Alan Watkins. He chuckled.

  “You are very ingenious, my dear. But this is all a bit dangerous, isn’t it? Who would have thought our lives would lead us to this?” He sighed. “This news about Greg Ralston’s old company is disturbing. Both Ferris and Carter have known Ralston for a long time.”

&nb
sp; “You talk like you knew Ferris well also.”

  “Fairly well.”

  “But he was your main competitor!”

  “Ah,” the older man said. “You make it sound so simple. As I mentioned before, Carter and Ferris were still very good friends. They kept it secret from the public, because they were constantly afraid of being accused of collusion, or anti-trust behavior.”

  He turned more toward me, leaning closer.

  “It is rumored, and I have been investigating this in great detail, that there was some kind of agreement between the two of them, regarding a merger, or some sort of stock deal, if anything ever happened to the other.”

  “Belinda Blalock told me that she holds no financial interest in Illcom at all.”

  “Well, that would fit.”

  “And Arthur Vincente, the Chair of the Illcom board. Do you think he knew about this?”

  “I don’t know, and I can’t find out. Arthur is still in the hospital under heavy sedation. When I visited him he was unconscious the entire time I was there.”

  “Yes. I’m afraid that is looking like a permanent diagnosis.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I grumbled. “If they liked each other enough to have a secret deal, what would cause one of them to betray the other?”

  “Also,” Aldo added, “if Farnham has some sort of claim to Illcom, then why hasn’t he made a move? It’s been weeks since Carter died.”

  “Wait a minute!” I sat up in excitement. The Cardinals pitcher gave up a double and the crowd roared. “Catwoman!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I quickly told him about my new friend, the snappy dresser who climbs through ceilings and bathroom windows. As you can imagine, he was intrigued.

  “You say she stole a piece of paper from Farnham’s office?”

  “Yes! This could be the connection. But who is she? And why is she following me now? And how?”

  “Do you have a cell phone now?” Aldo asked.

  “Of course, but it’s just a burner phone. I got rid of my old phone.”

  “Still, someone could be tracing you.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “My dear, use your head. You are smack in the middle of a conspiracy involving the leaders of the telecommunications industry. They’ve got quite a bit of technology at their disposal, some of which I designed myself. They could be monitoring anyone you’ve ever known, anyone you’re related to, waiting for you to call them. Once you do, they’ve got your new number.”

  I smacked myself on the forehead. How could I have been so stupid? I was so worried about putting Ruby and Martin in danger, but they’d been in danger the whole time. And it was my fault.

  While I was self-flagellating, Aldo had taken out his cell phone and made a call. He spoke to someone in a hushed voice for a few minutes, and I tried to nonchalantly eavesdrop. I had no luck with that, so I flagged down a vendor and got myself a pretzel. Across the way Ruby was still watching, her cap still firmly on her head.

  Aldo hung up.

  “So,” he began. “I have some good news and some bad news.”

  “Yes?” I asked with my mouth full..

  “At Illcom we have our own security department as well. As acting CEO, I’m just beginning to find out how effective it is. I have the name of someone who fits the description of your mystery woman.”

  “Really? That’s amazing.”

  “Her name is Selena Salerno, and she is known throughout the Chicago underworld. My source tells me that it is believed that she is currently working for Pershing Industrial.”

  “That’s great! What’s the bad news?”

  “She is incredibly dangerous. From what I’ve been told you are very, very lucky to be alive. I think you should let me hire a bodyguard for you, discreetly.”

  “It’s been a pretty hair-raising few weeks,” I admitted, “but I think it’s better if I stay solo. Isn’t Pershing a pharmaceutical company?”

  “Not only. They have their hand in anywhere they think they can make a dollar, and they have a long record of unscrupulous activity. Unfortunately, the current government administration cares little about such behavior. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Pershing were looking to get into telecom.”

  I was incredulous.

  “But they can’t just blow up the CEOs of the two leading companies and waltz in and take over, even in this day and age…”

  “No,” Aldo agreed. “But they might wait a year, or two. They are in it for the long game. Or, given the hit that Farnham’s stock has taken, they might try for a hostile takeover.”

  I finished my pretzel. Selena Salerno. At least I had a name now. At least she was real, and not some twisted product of my imagination.

  “You didn’t see what the paper she took said?” asked Aldo.

  “What?”

  “The document that the Salerno woman took. Did you see it?”

  “Not close enough to make out any words.”

  “A pity, it might have told us what Pershing’s plan was. Give me your phone.”

  “What?” I had been lost in my own thoughts. Aldo held out his hand.

  “Your phone.”

  I handed it to him. He removed the sim card and dropped it on the cement by his feet, crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

  He pulled his own phone out, removed the card, and put it into my phone.

  “What does that do?” I asked, taking my phone back.

  “It is untraceable. I designed it myself. If they have been tracking your phone, then this will make you much safer.”

  “But wait, isn’t this your phone number? How does that work?”

  Aldo laughed, and I felt like a stupid child.

  “This is just the card I use for secure calls.” He pulled another one out and slid it into the phone. “This is the one I use for business.”

  Hmph. Learn something new every day.

  I looked away from him and across the field, where I noticed Ruby removing her cap and putting it back on again, over and over. I crumpled up my pretzel wrapper and stood up, looking around. At the top of the ramp, about 50 yards away, I saw one of the jerks that had been with Watkins at the hair salon. I sat back down, quickly.

  “Mr Frances, we’ve got company.”

  He instinctively made to stand, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down again.

  “Be careful,” I hissed. “They must have traced my phone here, like you said, but they won’t know exactly where we are, and they won’t likely recognize me.”

  Frances pulled out his phone, but I stopped him.

  “Help isn’t going to get here in time, unless your security is sitting right outside.”

  He shook his head no.

  “Listen, you should stay here, and I will leave quickly and quietly.”

  I looked across the field to see that Ruby was no longer in her seat. She was on her way up the steps and out of the stadium, her phone pressed to her ear. Hopefully, she was calling our chauffeur.

  “But Ms. Riley, it could be me that they are after. What should I do?”

  “You? Why you?”

  “Think about it. Carter Blalock is dead and Arthur Vincente is nearly so. That leaves me in charge of everything at Illcom. If someone is trying to destroy the company, I could be next.”

  “Right, of course.”

  “I think we should stick together here and call my security detail,” Aldo said.

  I wasn’t keen on that idea. I looked around for an answer, and spotted the pretzel vendor coming up the steps at the end of the row. “Listen. Keep your head down, and when this guy with the tray comes by, follow him very closely up the steps. Right behind him.”

  “Okay.”

  “When you get to the first walkway, turn right, and then head down the tunnel and out. Keep your hat low. I’ll go left.”

  He did as I told him, and a few moments later we were combing the steps. I chanced a look toward o
ur friend. He was still there, scanning the crowd. I decided to take my chances. He had only ever seen me in the salon, with pink hair and fake tattoos. Georgette Wrigley was going to be able to walk right past him.

  And that’s exactly what I did. Instead of turning left, I went up an additional set of stairs until I was on his level, then moved right on by, leaving behind a pretzel wrapper and a smashed phone card. Take that, bad guys!

  I skipped down the ramp and out into the street. The weather was beautiful, and I felt oddly free in my disguise. I could get used to Georgette Wrigley. She wore great clothes, and she wanted to save the world. Nothing wrong with that.

  Marty pulled up in his car, with Ruby in the passenger seat. I opened the door and hopped in the back seat.

  “What now?” asked Marty.

  “Let’s go to Del Campo’s and have tacos on the beach.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Ruby.

  “I don’t care. Let’s celebrate being alive!”

  “I’m with you,” said Marty and pulled into traffic.

  “I disapprove,” said Ruby.

  “Want us to drop you off somewhere?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding. My sister Clara would never forgive me if something happened to Martin. I’m not letting you two out my sight. And,” she added. “I really like those deeply-fried burritos.”

  “Chimichangas?” asked Marty.

  “If you say so. Let’s go.”

  And we did. And it was glorious.

  Twenty-four

  The next day I was rocking the Wrigley disguise again, looking exactly like a civil rights lawyer on her lunch break. Business suit and briefcase, low heels, fashionable glasses. I ran my hand through my raven tresses, as I liked to call them, and checked my look in the rearview mirror of my rental car. I was running a close surveillance job on a professional, so it was important that my disguise was perfect.

 

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