“You’re cold sitting here. I think a warm bath is just the thing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
While he ran Mary’s bath, Ron thought about his next objective, to take care of the executives. The first one, the Tierney woman, had it coming. Even face to face with him outside the Holcomb Building, she acted as if she didn’t recognize him. He wore the orange jumpsuit with his face covered as a test, and she had failed bitterly. The gasp of fear when their eyes first met gave her away, and he knew he would have to kill her even if he didn’t really want to.
At first that was the only reason he finally decided to kill her, but then he saw whom she met for lunch and his regret turned to conviction.
Ron recognized Anderson right away. The man had been there from the beginning, speaking up for Marsters and insisting that the company had followed all mandatory safety protocols. Anderson said that if people got cancer it was an act of God, and hardly anything to blame the company for. Anderson was arrogant, self-assured, uncaring of the suffering families, and a willing pawn for the war machine that condoned biochemical weapons regardless of the fall-out.
When he sat down at Tierney’s table to have lunch with her, it was clear they were involved. Ron left as soon as Anderson sat down, but he saw all he needed to.
He was still regretful about the lady attorney because she was nice to Mary, but things seemed to have changed since then. Maybe the blonde woman persuaded her that money was more important than people’s lives. Whatever the reason for her switching sides, Donovan had left him without a choice.
This coming weekend was New Years, and he had followed Tierney around enough to know that she always left the city at the end of the week. Even if she stayed in the city at The Bernardin during the week, which wasn’t often, she always went home on the weekend. Her house was secluded, and a snowstorm was predicted to start early Saturday morning. No one would be out, and there would be little threat of being interrupted. He would do it then.
As for the attorney, Ron thought it would be easy to get into her building. He would wear the orange jumpsuit and say he was checking for a gas leak in the penthouse towers.
In his mind, he could hear the conversation with the concierge. No sir, I’m afraid we can’t tell where the leak is coming from. We just know it’s on the twenty-sixth floor. Yes, sir. I’d be happy to take a passkey and check it myself. I’m sure you’re very busy, and you don’t need to send anyone with me.
The gas company worked twenty-four hours a day, especially in winter, and everyone trusted utility workers. They would give him the key, and thank him for his time.
Ron grinned and shut off the water. He would have four days to rest and make sure everything was in place. He wouldn't leave anything to chance, and there would be no mistakes. Until then he would rest, research The Bernardin blueprints, and be with Mary.
Chapter Chapter Twenty-Two
AT SEVEN THIRTY Thursday evening, private investigator Jim Thomas smothered a huge yawn behind his hand as he sat in a nondescript gray sedan outside the Jacobs home. For almost twenty-four hours he had followed Eric Jacobs around and found absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. He had watched Jacobs every day since Tuesday and was relieved during the night shift by one of his assistants, but he was back early every morning to take control.
Jim got his first impression Tuesday night when Jacobs arrived home from work. He got out of a neatly polished low cost SUV in a three-pieced pinstriped suit. His hair was slicked back and neatly barbered and nothing about him screamed ‘killer’ to the private investigator. Grief had left lines around the thirty-six year old man’s eyes, but when his wife met him at the door, a sincere smile curled his lips.
Jacobs kissed his wife hello and swept a small girl up into his arms. The child squealed in delight and latched onto her father’s neck before the trio stepped inside their modest home.
Since then nothing worth mentioning had occurred. Jacobs left for work Wednesday morning and Jim followed him. He went straight to work, to lunch with his colleagues, and then straight home afterward. The routine was the same as the day before, and the lights were out in the Jacobs home by ten.
Now he was convinced that Jacobs was just another regular guy who had lived through a horrific event and was trying to get on with his life. Chances were that both of the people Sean Donovan wanted checked out were a waste of time, but it was an easy job and Jim didn’t mind the extra cash.
He made a sudden decision and pulled out his cell phone. He pressed the redial button and waited for a second before the call was picked up on the other end.
“Willie? Hey, it’s me, Jim. This Jacobs thing is a bust.”
“I figured as much,” Willie Pruitt answered. “It was a real snoozefest the past few nights, too. What do you want to do?”
“Are you up for taking over? I think I’ll head home and get a few hours’ sleep before I head out to the Adams place. Maybe something a little more interesting will be happening there.”
“At night?”
“Well, you know what they say, wolves prowl at night. If one of these guys is a psycho he’d be running around at night, not during the day when people could spot him.”
“Okay,” Willie said but sounded unconvinced. “I can be there in twenty minutes. Will that work?”
“Great, oh, and bring lots of coffee. You’re going to need it.”
After a nap and something to eat, Jim pulled up in front of the Adams house. The neighborhood was quiet and the ground frozen hard just like the rest of Chicago. The house was a small bungalow style with a long front porch and at first glance was unremarkable in all respects. The inside of the house was completely dark but Jim didn’t think that was unusual since it was almost midnight.
Jim noticed a beat up looking Chevy Lumina parked in the driveway and figured Adams and his wife were already in bed. He got out of his car and was careful not to slam the door. He didn’t want anyone to see what he was going to do and the sound of a car door this late in such a quiet neighborhood might attract unwanted attention.
Jim cast a quick look around before he crossed the street and disappeared into the shadows around the Adams house. Ice crunched softly underfoot and he shivered at the contrast of the chilly night air compared to the heated car interior. Jim tucked his chin into the collar of his jacket and was just glad he had thought to wear gloves.
He made a brief, careful circuit of the house, but didn’t notice anything unusual. It was too dark to see inside any windows and with his luck, if he tried it, he’d be caught. Just as he reached the back of the house and decided to head back to the car he noticed something. Jim was surprised to see how close the bay was to the back of the house. You couldn’t throw a stone to it, but the water was clearly visible in the moonlight. Jim estimated that it was less than a mile away, and he could see the twin smokestacks from the Marsters Research Plant.
Taken alone that didn’t really mean anything, and the Jacobs house wasn’t far from here. Both of the families had contended that Marsters was responsible for their loved ones’ illnesses, and seeing the plant this close up, Jim understood how they could come to that conclusion. He shrugged and fought off another shiver as he walked back to the car. Right now, all he could think about was getting warm.
The P.I. spent the rest of the night sipping lukewarm coffee, and dozing lightly in the front seat of the car. When the sun began to try to break through the clouds, he roused himself and climbed back out of the car. With the sun up, he would be able to see more, and the trees were fairly thick around the side of the house. He would be able to find good concealment and wait to see if anything interesting happened in the next few hours.
After watching Jacobs for two days, he seriously doubted it. The most exciting thing he would see would be Ron Adams getting ready for work. Or would he? Didn’t Sean say Adams had been fired?
Oh, well. Surely the man wouldn’t sleep all day, and Jim could get an idea if this was another dead end. If he got that impress
ion at all, he would call the whole thing off and let Sean know it was a waste of time.
If it was summer, Jim might have stayed with the case just for the money, but there was really no reason to freeze his butt off if he didn’t have to.
He found a good spot between a few trees where he could easily see into a window. The shades were open, and Jim guessed they weren’t worried anyone would try to peek in. It was just another sign that they had nothing to hide, as far as he was concerned.
Around nine-thirty Jim finally noticed movement inside the house. He sat up and peered intently inside, the cold momentarily forgotten.
A huge man with dark bushy hair and a thick beard came into view. Jim assumed this was Ronald Adams and shivered at the sight of him. Adams was shirtless and his arms looked like they were chiseled from stone. Although he was a little thick in the waist, it was obvious that most of him was pure muscle. Adams turned his back and bent. At first, Jim was confused, but then Adams straightened and turned back toward the window.
Jim swallowed thickly when he saw that Adams held his wife tenderly in his arms. He carefully placed the woman in a chair by the window and adjusted a blanket over her knees. Then he bent down and whispered in her ear before he placed a lingering kiss on one cheek. Even through the condensation on the glass, Jim saw the tenderness in the gesture and the unmitigated love on the big man’s face.
Touched by the sentimentality displayed by the big oaf, Jim decided he’d been right the first time. Both of these men were victims and just trying to get on with their lives in the best way they could. For Eric Jacobs, the tragedy had already happened and all he had left was the recovery, if that was possible. Ron Adams still lived with the tragedy occurring right in front of him. His days probably were spent talking to his wife, and attending her every need. Until she finally passed away, he couldn’t even begin the grieving process.
Jim decided he would wait a few more hours. If all he saw was a man patiently attending to an invalid wife, he would pack it in. He was surprised a few minutes later when he glimpsed Adams again in the window.
The man was now dressed in a heavy black overcoat. A scarf wrapped around his neck and he had on thick leather gloves. He definitely looked as though he was going out.
Probably just needs a few supplies from the grocery store, Jim thought. But I’d still better follow. Don’t want Sean to think I didn’t do a thorough job.
Jim stayed low as he moved back to the car. He would have been conspicuous if the sun had been shining brightly, but the day was overcast like most winter days in Chicago. For once, he was happy for the gray cast that helped conceal him as he made it back to the car just in time. He had just pulled the door closed when Adams stepped onto the front. Thomas hunkered down in the car and watched Adams glance around before he left the porch and got into the Chevy.
The car headed for the interstate with Jim trailing behind. Traffic was thick at this time of the morning so Jim wasn’t worried about Adams seeing him. He was still careful to stay in another lane, or when the traffic slowed sufficiently that he might lose his quarry, he would follow directly behind the Lumina for a short time. Then the unthinkable happened.
An eighteen-wheeler cut right in front of Jim, almost smashing into the front fender of his car to change lanes. Jim had to slam on his breaks to avoid a collision with the monster truck, and by the time he was sorted out, Adams was nowhere in sight.
Jim stayed on the interstate craning his neck and changing lanes, but Adams was gone. He must have taken an exit, but which one? Jim looked for the battered sedan for another ten minutes before the twenty-mile an hour traffic forced him to give up. Cursing, he took an exit and turned around.
Jim stopped for a bag of donuts and coffee before he drove back and parked in a different location on the same side of the street as the Adams house. He figured his quarry wouldn’t be gone for very long with an invalid wife home alone, and he would wait for Adams to return.
Two hours later, he didn’t know what to think. Where was Adams going? He didn’t work, and Sean said no one else cared for his wife so why would he leave her alone for so long? It didn’t make sense unless Adams had a new job they didn’t know about and a neighbor was supposed to look in on Mary.
Impatient he decided to check in with Willie. Jim dialed the number while he kept an eye on the street.
“Pruitt.”
“Hey Willie, what’s going on?”
Across the thin connection, Jim could hear his assistant sigh before he answered. “More of the same...nothing. He left for work this morning and now I’m sitting outside his office. How much longer are we going to follow this guy?”
Willie was right. Jacobs was clean and there was no sense following him around, but he didn’t want to give up so quickly.
“We’ll give it another twenty-four hours. Have Marty relieve you at six, and you can take over again in the morning. If we don’t have anything by the time he leaves work tomorrow we’ll pack it in.”
“All right,” Willie complained. “At least the end is in sight.”
“What’s the matter,” Jim teased, “You’d rather be following cheating wives around snapping dirty pictures for their husbands?”
“It beats this. At least then something would be happening.”
“I hear you. It’s pretty boring on this end, too. Call me if anything develops.”
“You got it, boss.”
Another hour passed with no sign of Adams. Finally, too curious to wait any longer, Jim got out of the car and feigned stretching his legs. He looked carefully around at the other houses, but if anyone was at home, he couldn’t tell. Most of the window curtains were drawn against the cold, and no one was out on the street with the exception of a few cars that passed every now and then.
Jim turned and walked down the sidewalk away from the Adams house. He went twenty feet before he stepped off the sidewalk and into the trees. Then he doubled back toward the house. He approached the back of the house obliquely just in case someone besides Mrs. Adams was inside, but he didn’t notice any movement. Someone had placed Mrs. Adams in a chair at one of the windows so Jim carefully avoided that side of the house and started peeking in windows on the back.
He was struck immediately by how clean the interior of the house was. Living room, kitchen, and bathroom...everything was immaculate. It was almost too clean. Speaking from experience Jim knew that most men were slobs. He’d expected to see empty pizza boxes and beer cans scattered around, not this almost Spartan environment.
He went all the way around the house, careful to stay low behind the hedges on the front porch to avoid detection, until he was back to the side where the wife sat in front of the window. Jim stepped onto that side of the house without thinking and jerked back when he caught a glimpse of Mary Adams. She sat in the same spot where her husband had placed her, and Jim could have sworn she hadn’t moved a muscle. But that was impossible.
Frowning, he glanced down at his watch. Where the hell was Adams? Why would he leave his wife alone for so long? Maybe he missed someone checking on the woman when he’d gone after Adams. Maybe Adams had been involved in a car accident.
At four in the afternoon, it started to get dark and Jim decided that his bladder just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to go to the bathroom and get something to eat, and hoped that Adams would return before he got back. Jim started the car and pulled out onto the lane. A few cars moved slowly back and forth down the street, but none of them was Adams.
After dinner, Jim drove straight back to the house, but Adams still hadn’t returned. By seven-thirty, he was growing concerned about Mrs. Adams. Even if the woman had a catheter, she couldn’t be comfortable after sitting in the same spot for so long.
Jim Thomas had spent twenty years as a beat cop on the Chicago Police Department before he started his own detective agency. In that time, and since then, he had seen many things that would take the humanity out of a person if they let it, and even lost his marriage bec
ause of it. Nevertheless, as street hardened as he was, he still possessed a compassionate heart. He just couldn’t leave the Adams woman alone for another minute without making sure she was all right.
This time he didn’t care that he slammed the car door. He was trying to announce himself and hopefully not frighten the poor woman any more than she undoubtedly was. After all, in her condition, who wouldn’t be scared after being left home alone all day?
Jim stepped as heavily as he could onto the wooden steps of the front porch and even took the time to stomp some of the ice from his shoes. Then he walked across the porch and knocked loudly on the front door. When there was no answer, he knocked again with the same result.
He noticed a doorbell and reached to press it repeatedly. There was still no answer, and he wondered if he should call the authorities.
And tell them what? That I’m staking out someone’s house and I don’t like it because they haven’t been home all day? I don’t even know if anything is wrong. Maybe the woman can walk just fine, and I’ve only seen her when she was sitting in the chair.
Instinct told him that wasn’t the case, but Jim couldn’t call anyone based on a hunch. That same instinct made him reach down and grasp the doorknob. He almost gasped in surprised when the door swung open without any resistance. Adams hadn’t even locked the door.
Something is wrong.
Jim stepped carefully into the house and pushed the door closed. The first thing he noticed was an odd smell. It was sour and caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, but it wasn’t overpowering. The smell reminded him of milk that had spoiled. He ignored the odor for the moment and moved quietly through the house without any idea why he didn’t simply walk into Mrs. Adams room and announce himself.
From room to room nothing stirred, and there was no sight of Mrs. Adams. Common sense told him the room where she sat was on his right, but something deep in his subconscious made him check out the other rooms first.
Now You See Me Page 30