“Good workout, champ,” he said.
I was about to say that I wasn’t champ yet, but Chappie said it for me. Then, turning to me he said, “We still gots some work to do. Otherwise you might end being chump instead.”
He kept me throwing punches, kicks, and practicing combinations for the better part of fifteen minutes. By the time the bell rang, I felt like I could barely move.
“Maybe we do some sit-ups and work the bag a little more now,” Chappie said with a sardonic grin.
“Ohhh, you missed your calling,” I groaned. “You should have been the mean sergeant in that French Foreign Legion movie.”
“Which movie was that?”
“Beau Geste. It’s French for gallant gesture.”
“Well, we got a few more gallant gestures of our own to work on.” He grabbed his scissors and cut loose the tape around the gloves and started undoing the laces.
“Hey, Ron,” I heard Brice call. “Somebody’s here for you.”
I looked over and saw him ushering in a tall, slender, brown-haired girl in her early twenties. She was dressed in jeans and her coat was open, revealing a black University of Michigan sweatshirt. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me.
“Ron?” she said.
“Laurie?” I asked. My mind had been fixated on that image of the pubescent teenager in pigtails and braces. The young woman who stood before me now was sleek and sophisticated looking, even in blue jeans. Her face had narrowed and her sharp features were perfectly accentuated by her make up. The only remnant of youth was the dark spray of freckles over her nose and cheeks.
Chappie had pulled off the right glove and I moved over toward her. We shook hands tentatively. She stared at the gauze wrapped around mine.
“I didn’t know you were a fighter,” she said.
“Sometimes he don’t know it either,” Chappie said.
Laurie looked suddenly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your workout.”
“That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I was just finishing up. Let me grab a shower and we’ll go for a cup of coffee.”
“All right. Is there a ladies’ room here?”
“Sure.” I pointed to the doorway. “Just go through there and turn left. It’s all the way in the back.”
I watched her walk away, then held out my left hand for Chappie to cut the tape and unlace the glove.
“Well, looks like we gonna have another weak leg workout tomorrow too, huh?” Chappie said.
“Hey, it’s not like that at all,” I said defensively. “She’s the cousin of a girl I used to go out with a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling off the big, sixteen-ounce glove and leaning in close to me. “Well, in case you ain’t noticed, she done growed up. And the title fight is only nine days away.”
CHAPTER 9
I showered and changed in about fifteen minutes flat, and when I came up front from the locker room I saw Laurie standing in the doorway watching Darlene lead a group of girls through an aerobics workout. She smiled as I approached her.
“Wow, Ron, you look so different,” she said. “Are you a professional?”
“Well, I try to be,” I said.
“That’s true,” Chappie said, walking over to us. “But sometimes he tries harder than others. By the way, I’m Chappie Oliver, Miss. I own this place.”
“Laurie Kittermann,” she said, shaking hands.
“In addition to being my trainer and manager,” I said, “Chappie also routinely substitutes as my best friend and surrogate father as needed.”
“Yeah,” he said. “And as all four of those, you just remember what I told you before. About your legs.” He shot me a glaring look and rolled his eyes surreptitiously at Laurie.
I gave a quick nod. Laurie looked at us quizzically, then Chappie said, “Don’t forget about to night. We be counting on you.”
“I’ll see you there,” I said. He and Laurie exchanged amenities, and he walked back into the gym.
“You two seem really close,” she said.
“George is like my big brother. Chappie’s my surrogate father. That’s his daughter leading the class.”
“Wow, she’s gorgeous,” Laurel said, glancing at Darlene’s milk chocolate limbs extending from her spandex suit.
“So, you mentioned that you were down here to take care of Paula’s affairs?”
“Yeah. My aunt and uncle were just so devastated that I didn’t think they could handle it. I’m on semester break anyway.”
“Oh really?” I pointed to her University of Michigan sweatshirt. “That where you go?”
“Yes, I’m in law school there.”
“Great. Say, you want to grab a bite to eat? There’s a hamburger place right across the street.”
“Okay.”
We went across to Jensen’s, a non franchised hamburger and Coke place that had survived unchanged there for several de cades. I let Laurie walk ahead of me down the narrow strip of sidewalk with the grayish snow piled high on each side. Her dark blue jacket ended just below the belt-line, allowing me to admire the contour of her legs in the tight jeans. Funny how people change so little in your memory sometimes. I couldn’t believe that this dynamite-looking babe was the same little girl that I remembered with freckles and pigtails. But then, she was seven years younger than Paula, which was almost, but not quite, as bad as the eighteen years that separated my older half-brother Tom and me.
She still had the freckles, I noted again as we took our trays through the line. A dark spray of pigment over high cheekbones. But instead of making her look younger, they sort of cast an exotic look over her face. She ordered a jumbo burger, fries, and the inevitable diet soft drink. As much as I would have liked to have gotten the same, I could almost feel Chappie’s reproachful glare, so I just had a regular burger and coffee.
She’d lit up a cigarette on the way over from the gym, but then tossed it into a snowbank before we’d entered the restaurant.
“You don’t smoke, right?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Yeah, I figured you’d still be into all those healthy practices just like when you used to go out with Paula,” she said smiling.
Not all healthy practices, I thought.
We moved to a nonsmoking section by the windows, and I watched her wolf down part of her jumbo burger and fries while I just sipped my coffee. The girl was hungry, that was for sure.
Midway through, she stopped and wiped her lips with the paper napkin and looked at me.
“I feel like such a pig,” she said. “Eating all this in front of you. But the trip down was so long, and I’m just famished.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see a girl with a healthy appetite for a change. Usually all you gals eat are salads.”
“Ohhh, tomorrow that’s what I’ll wish I’d eaten,” she said with a smile. Her eyes sort of crinkled when she smiled. Paula’s eyes had done that too.
I finished off my own burger and glanced out the window. The traffic going away from the city was edging toward the normal late-afternoon rush. A big CTA bus sloshed through a wedge of dirty snow as it pulled away from the curb. Laurie set the remainder of her burger down and wiped her mouth again. In typical girl fashion, she’d left at least half her fries. I stared at them lustfully, then looked away.
“Want some of these?” she asked.
“No thanks. I’m on a special training diet. And Chappie would kill me if he found out I was eating junk food this close to the fight. Like I said, he’s sort of like a surrogate father. And George is my big brother.”
“That’s nice,” she said softly. “And how is George? He was so sweet to us.”
“He’s fine,” I said. Then, after a beat or two, “So how are your aunt and uncle doing?”
“Well, I’d be lying to you if I said they were all right. It’s got to be the worst nightmare for a parent to have to bury a child.” She paused. “And, like I said, that’s one of the reaso
ns that I came down here.”
I managed a quick nod of reassurance.
Laurie took a sip of her drink. “Detective Grieves mentioned that you were a private detective,” she said. “What’s that like?”
“It’s a lot less glamorous than it sounds. Lots of long, boring work, with little pay. Besides my fighting, I’m working for George’s new security company to make ends meet. I’ve got to pay my own insurance, do my own billing, my own collecting, and run my office out of my house and car. But the worst part is I have to listen to George tell me all the time how lucky I am to be my own boss.”
She smiled again. “So how much do you charge for an investigation?”
“That depends on the case,” I said slowly, suddenly not liking the way the conversation was going. “Why?”
She blinked twice and set the glass down before answering me. “Because I was thinking of hiring you. To look into Paula’s death. The police said it was a hit-and-run.”
“That’s what George told me too.” I paused and took a deep breath. “And they’re a lot more adept at running that type of investigation than I am. Something like that requires lab work, informants, interviews, and a lot of leg work. Besides, I’m training for the biggest fight of my career right now.”
“But how much time are the police really going to devote to it?” she said. Her hazel eyes flashed momentarily, and I sensed the pent-up emotion roiling just beneath the surface.
“Be honest with me, Ron. I mean, it’s been almost a week and they haven’t done anything, have they?”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Please, just think about it, okay,” she said, reaching forward and touching my hand. “And I can afford to pay you. I’ve got some money saved up, and my aunt and uncle want to pay too.”
It suddenly hit me as to why they hadn’t come down themselves. Perhaps, even after all this time, they were still afraid to face me after what they did to me and Paula so many years ago.
“Why don’t we hold off on that till you’ve had a chance to talk to George and read the police reports so far,” I said. “In the meantime, I’ll be glad to help you go through Paula’s stuff if you want.”
“Okay, that would be great,” she said. “I’m not even sure how to get there. I was planning on staying at her old place while I was back here in Chicago. I called the landlord and he said the rent was paid up until the end of the month.”
“I’ve got to go up to Uptown for a fight to night,” I said. “That’s what Chappie was mumbling about before. One of our fighters has a match there, and we’ve got to work the corner.”
“Oh, is that what he was talking about when he mentioned your legs?” she asked.
“Sort of. But anyway, if we leave now, you can follow me up to Paula’s and I’ll show you where it’s at.”
“You’ve been there?”
“No, George told me the address before. I don’t know exactly where it is. But I’m sure I can find it.”
“I was just wondering,” she paused and bit her lip softly, “if you two were seeing each other again after she moved back down here.”
“Actually I sort of bumped into her right after Christmas for the first time since we were kids,” I said.
Laurie smiled slightly. “Fate is funny sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said. And sad, too, I thought.
Paula’s apartment was almost in the south Loop area, so I led Laurie over to the expressway and told her to follow me to Chinatown. We got off at Cermak and took Clark north. When we found her address on Polk, the street was cold, dark, and full of parked cars. I pulled George’s pick-up into an alley and got in Laurie’s car. She had a small blue Nissan with a five-speed.
“Aren’t you worried about your truck getting a ticket?” she asked me as we pulled away from the alley.
“Nah,” I said. “George will take care of it if it does.” We drove around for a good ten minutes more, then finally found an empty parking space about a block away from Paula’s building. I jumped out and fed several quarters into the meter.
“How long is it good for?” she asked me.
“Not long,” I told her. “Only two hours. You’d better plan on finding a lot somewhere close if you’re going to be staying at Paula’s place.”
“I guess so,” she said.
The cold wind seemed to cut right through our clothes as we walked up the block toward the address. It was one of those moderately tall brick apartment buildings with twin tiers going up, leaving a courtyard in the middle. In the early winter darkness, the courtyard area looked like a black hole.
George had sent the family the contents of Paula’s purse, including the keys to her apartment. According to Laurie, all we had to do was ring the super, a Mr. Turner, on the second floor and inform him that we were going to be in the place to night. She’d already told him on the phone that she intended on staying there for a while. He turned out to be an older guy in his sixties, wearing two cardigan sweaters and a pained expression on his face. He eyed us suspiciously behind convex glasses.
“Fine,” he said. “Like I told you when you called, Miss, the rent’s been paid, till the end of the month. Then it’ll go against the security deposit if all the stuff’s not outta there. I’ll have to inspect the place prior to the deposit being returned.” He ducked inside and reappeared with a large stack of papers secured by two rubber bands. “Here,” he said, shoving the stack toward us. “I been holding her mail since your call. Better notify the post office right away about the change of address though.”
“Thank you, sir,” Laurie said.
I marveled at her politeness. But then again, she wasn’t a full-fledged lawyer yet. “Say, you wouldn’t know where Paula usually parked her car, would you?” I asked.
“There’s a lot across the alley,” Turner said. “Most of the tenants that have cars pay the guy a monthly fee.”
“You know if she could park her car over there?” I asked, indicating Laurie.
He shook his head. “I don’t get over there much,” he said and closed the door.
We went over to the elevator and punched the button. I would have rather taken the stairs, like I normally do, but waited in deference to Laurie. I’d noticed, much to my dismay, that she’d taken out a cigarette and lit up as soon as we’d left the restaurant, so I wasn’t sure if she’d be ready, willing, or even able to walk up five flights. I looked at my watch as we waited for the elevator and she must have picked up on my impatience.
“Ron, what time do you have to be at your fight?”
“It’ll start about seven, or so, but our guy doesn’t fight right away,” I said, thinking all the while how much money I’d be losing if I didn’t make my appearance and pick up my security T-shirt from Saul. “I’ve still got some time.”
“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but you can leave if you need to,” she said. “I think I can manage alone from here.”
“That’s okay. I’ll feel better if I can help you get settled. Say, I meant to ask you, were her car keys on that ring that George sent you?” She held it up for me to look at. Pontiac keys. That meant that we’d have to go pick up Paula’s car at the tow yard sometime. Laurie smiled as the elevator door finally slid open.
When we got in, I focused on the real reason I wanted to go up there with her. I was kind of curious to see Paula’s old place. Curious to see if it would afford me a glimpse of what her life had been like between the time she’d exited mine so abruptly when we were young, and when she’d briefly re-entered it. The elevator was a small, coffin-like box and I felt cramped with just the two of us inside. The doors remained open for what seemed like an inordinate length of time, then closed with a whispering clamp. After a starting jerk, we rode upward without pause.
There were two apartments on the fifth floor at opposite ends of the hallway. Neighbors far enough away so as not to be a distraction. The carpeting on the floor showed little wear, and the walls were a placi
d green with a floral mural near the elevator. Unlike a lot of other apartment buildings in the city that have a gritty feel, this one seemed fairly pleasant and well kept up.
We went down to Five-B. Paula’s place. I felt a sudden weird sensation, going to the apartment of a former lover, a place I’d never been to, with her younger cousin, who wasn’t so little anymore. Everything seemed slightly off-key. Like I’d stepped off the elevator and into the Twilight Zone. Laurie put the key in the knob, twisted, then tried the door. Still locked. She inserted the key into the dead-bolt lock and turned it. My curiosity burned at what we’d find on the other side of the door. But when Laurie stepped in and switched on the light, she jumped back.
“Oh my God,” Laurie said. Clutter was everywhere. Tables had been turned over and the bottoms of the chairs and sofa had been cut out. The cushions had been sliced open too. Stuffing was scattered like remnants of phony snow left over from some partially dismantled old Christmas display. The television set had been destroyed and the coffee table had been split apart. Metal lamp trees lay in piles of shattered ceramics.
I told Laurie to wait outside as I drew my Beretta and went in. The door had been locked, so that meant there was a chance that the offender might still be inside. With the gun extended I swept the whole apartment. In the bedroom I noticed that the drawers had been left standing open. All the rooms were in a similar state of chaos, but whoever had done it was long gone. It had all the earmarks of a thorough, systematic professional search. Like my place had looked when I’d found it. Sort of like déjà vu…all over again.
But there was a more vicious tone to this one. Chair and sofa cushions slashed open, their stuffing strewn about, the TV screen kicked in, VCR and CD players trashed. If they didn’t want them, why wreck them? After I’d holstered my gun I went back to the living room and told her it was all right to come in.
“Ron, what happened?”
“Burglary, from the looks of it,” I said, bending over to check the doorjamb. It looked free of scratches or pry marks. “We’d better call the cops. Try not to touch anything.”
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