Change of Address

by Rick Polad

  She was puzzled. “Why?”

  “Because he is not just a murderer, he is the murderer of President Lincoln. That makes him famous.”

  She straightened and jutted out her tiny jaw. “Well, maybe a person like that doesn’t deserve to be famous.”

  I unrolled about a hundred tickets. They were all signed. “Ethyl, whether he should be famous or not is beside the point. He is, and because he is, these tickets are worth a lot of money.”

  “Oh don’t be silly, they’re just old tickets.”

  I shook my head. “Because they are old tickets they are probably worth something in their own right. But because they are signed by Booth, I’d be willing to bet they’re worth a fortune.”

  She didn’t react but Maxine did. “How much do you think, Spencer?”

  “I have no idea. But I could ask around. Ethyl these could be worth enough that you could move out of here into some nicer place.”

  Shaking her head, she started to roll up the tickets. “Two things young man. I wouldn’t want money from a man like that and I don’t want to move out of here. I have lived here for many a year and this is my home.” She relaxed and her eyes twinkled. “And you know, this isn’t such a bad place.” She lovingly put the tickets back in the box, evidently forgetting that she didn’t want them with the rest of her precious things. Maxine gave me a “what are you going to do?” look and patted Ethyl’s arm. Ethyl pulled out a doll and started the next story. I went back to Elizabeth’s box.

  I carefully went through each packet and was down to the bottom of the pile. Lifting up a bundle I saw a small white envelope tucked into a corner of the box. I pulled out the flap, turned the envelope upside down and dumped the contents into my hand. Lifting up a silver chain, I saw a silver cross and a medallion of Jesus dangling from the bottom. It was probably something she had worn most of her life. She’d probably taken it off when she moved into this building. I had been taught that Jesus had sacrificed his life for us. What kind of sacrifices had Elizabeth made, and for whom?

  I supposed she’d done it for Jeffrey Grey—to protect his image. And since she ended up living in this building, I accepted the chain of events that may have led here. I had thought I understood, but as I sat in the attic looking at all that was left of her life, I decided I had no idea of what she’d gone through. She had given up everything that had been important to her, well almost. She still had Marty, but the guilt of what she was doing to Marty must have been awful. I tried not to judge but did not understand how moving was her only option. I know Maxine said that Beth felt like a whore anyway and maybe her self esteem was shot, but I think I would have said the hell with the mayor and his image. I would think I’d go to him for help. But I was not Elizabeth and I was not walking in her shoes. I felt sad and like a failure. I had hoped that Jeffrey Grey was the father and would be willing to support Marty. At least that would add something positive to this story. But now the ending was not so happy. I certainly didn’t want anyone else knowing that Ronny was Marty’s father—Marty because she deserved better, and Beef because he would end up in jail after he killed Ronny.

  I slipped the chain into my pocket for Marty some day and repacked the box. Then I sat and watched Ethyl and Maxine for a bit. Ethyl was very happy; this made her day. And Maxine sat patiently like she was sitting at her grandmother’s knee listening to a fairy tale. Maybe it was good for her too. Maybe she needed a grandmother.

  As Maxine got down another box, I announced that I had to go. Ethyl looked disappointed. Maxine said she would stay for a bit. Ethyl immediately brightened up. I gave Maxine a kiss on the forehead and a wink and let myself out. When all this was over I’d get the box to Beef.

  I spent the afternoon at Wrigley Field but even the sunshine and a Cubs win couldn’t erase my sadness. I felt depressed and wished I could make everyone’s lives magically improve, including mine. I spent Friday night alone with a bottle of beer and a bag of potato chips and fell asleep watching an old movie. I woke up at two, turned off the TV, and went to bed.

  Chapter 40

  Saturday night I picked up Kelly and we went to dinner. We chatted about the track. She was still upset about Bobby. So was I, but not as much as she. She asked about the case and I gave her a brief rundown, leaving out the mayor’s name.

  I reviewed a bit and told her to feel free to butt in if she had an opinion. Verbalizing my theory might help me figure out if I believed my own scenario.

  I took a long drink of beer and started. “Elizabeth had an affair with a married man who wouldn’t leave his wife for whatever reason. She accepted that. Then the man’s brother found out about the affair and forced himself on Elizabeth.”

  “The brother being Ronny,” Kelly interrupted.

  “Right. Ronny knew his brother wouldn’t give him any more money. But then he found pictures and checks and saw other possibilities and blackmailed Elizabeth. The first brother had been giving Elizabeth financial support for Marty even though, as he knew, Marty was not his daughter. Elizabeth is afraid and needs more money to cover the blackmail and so asks for an increase in what the lover has been giving. The lover knew Marty wasn’t his kid because he had a vasectomy many years ago. So he has been paying the support out of the kindness of his heart and also because he probably feels somewhat guilty for the position he put Elizabeth in. But that only went so far, and he eventually told Elizabeth he couldn’t give her any more.” I took another drink.

  I continued. “Instead of blowing the whistle on this guy...”

  “Wait a minute,” Kelly interrupted. “Did Elizabeth know the lover wasn’t the father?”

  “No. But she didn’t know he was either. She had sex with both brothers within an hour of each other, the second by rape. I guess she hoped it was the first.”

  “I would too. And she probably assumed it was when he paid the support.”

  I nodded. “Probably. Anyway, instead of making all this public...”

  She interrupted again. “This is something the public would care about?”

  “Yup. But can’t tell you why.”

  “That’s okay. But you do have me wondering.”

  “Promise me one thing, for Marty’s sake. If you ever figure it out, keep it to yourself. I’ve probably already told you more than I should.”

  She crossed her heart. “I promise.”

  “So, to protect her daughter, Elizabeth clammed up and decided to accept the consequences. She thought she deserved what she got. After all, she’d been having an affair with a married man, so she had some guilt too. She has to live and she has to pay Ronny, so she moved into a dump and started working nights to make ends meet. She continued to get money from the lover and to get visits from Ronny, probably to pick up money, who befriended Marty and promised her a ride on a horse.”

  The waiter set down two bowls of cream of roasted tomato soup that smelled wonderful. Draping my napkin in my lap, I took a sip and continued. “So the money she got from night work pays off Ronny. She knows what she is doing to Marty and feels horrible. I’m guessing she was planning on disappearing and starting over—Marty said they were going to move again. That would have devastated her brother who loves Marty and might do anything to not lose her. But before she got that chance, she stopped a bullet. End of a sad story, except that Marty is someday going to wonder why she has no parents and the answers are not going to be happy.”

  Kelly wiped soup off her lips with her linen napkin. “Poor little girl. Do you have any idea who killed Elizabeth?”

  “I’ve been told by several people that that is none of my business. But I do have some ideas. Certainly could have been Ronny, but he’s an easy answer, and if he was getting blackmail money, why would he kill her? Could have been the lover but I don’t think so. She wasn’t blackmailing him. She asked him for more money but dropped it when he said no. He wasn’t paying any more than he already had been. Could have been Beef. The man has a temper and he adores Marty and if he found out Beth was taking
Marty away, who knows what he could do? Or she could have been killed by one of her customers or in a robbery attempt.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think this soup is delicious.”

  “About the murder, silly?”

  “Well, I’m not supposed to think about that. But if I did, I guess I’d lean towards the customer/robber scenario or Ronny just because bad guys tend to act like bad guys. But Beef does have a temper and in a fit of rage or passion you never know what can happen. He did break down the door. I don’t think the lover did it. Despite everything, he did care for Elizabeth. I don’t think he would harm her, but you never know.”

  “But he let her move into that neighborhood.”

  “Yes. But there is a bit more to it. And that’s a lot different than murder.”

  “Think it will get solved?”

  “No, I don’t. There are simply no clues to follow and the police have done all they can.” The main course was set in front of us. I had prime rib and Kelly had scallops. Both looked wonderful. We ate and talked of other things. I was dying to tell her about the operation at the track on Monday, but knew that talking about my case and talking about Stosh’s were two different things. However, I didn’t want her there and suggested we go to the zoo. She said she needed to be at the track, but I insisted and she agreed to let me know on Sunday. I didn’t like that and suggested we go away for a few days and come back Tuesday. She gave me a funny look and asked why this sudden interest to get away. I told her I just needed a breather and wanted to spend some time with her. She said it sounded nice and would see if she could get away. It depended on when a horse was being delivered to the track.

  We finished and drove south to Jackson Harbor. I parked and we sat on the breakwater at the entrance to the yacht club. It was about ten o’clock and boats were starting to make their way back into the harbor, but many running lights still sparkled out on the lake. The moon stood about thirty degrees up in the eastern sky and moonlight shimmered across the gently lapping waves. Except where the moonlight hit the water, it was hard to see the horizon as the color of the sky blended in with the water.

  “This is beautiful, Spencer,” Kelly whispered.

  I agreed and added some trivia. “One of Columbus’ ships is sunk out there somewhere.” I pointed out beyond the breakwater.

  “Sure,” she laughed. “How gullible do I look?”

  I laughed. “Not one of the originals. The Columbian Exposition was held in Chicago in 1893. That’s why many of Chicago’s museums were built. Anyway, Spain sent over a replica of one of Columbus’ships and it was anchored here at Jackson Park. It sunk and is still out there.”

  “Well, get some tanks and we’ll go find it.”

  “I’m sure somebody knows where it is.”

  “And I know where you are.” Kelly turned sideways and wrapped her arms around me and for the rest of the night I forgot about the mayor and his half-brother and the Niña or the Pinta or the Santa Maria.

  Sunday morning Kelly called and told me she had to be at the track on Monday. A horse was being trailered in and she had to be there. I asked her for dinner Sunday night and she told me she was sorry but was flying home for a visit and was coming back late Sunday night. I told her to be careful and to stay away from Ronny. We said good-bye and she promised to call Monday afternoon. I called Stosh to tell him Kelly would be at the track and to watch out for her. He said he would but assured me there should be no problem. The only trouble he expected was from Ronny and they should be able to contain that pretty well. I asked again if I could be there and he said no, which I expected, but did point out that if I had taken a different path after the academy it could have been different. Right. Thanks. I told him to call me as soon as something happened.

  I wasted the rest of the day napping and watching baseball washed down with a few beers.

  That night, I drove to my parents' house and faced some memories and ghosts.

  Chapter 41

  I slept at my folks' house and woke up at six Monday morning. That was an hour I was not used to seeing, but I was very anxious. It was going to be a long day. I wanted to be at the track and it’s hell not being where you want to be.

  Sunday I had gone through drawers of papers and made piles that seemed to make some sort of sense. Monday morning I got around to opening the safe. The only thing inside was Dad’s weapon and a box of ammo. I picked it up and held it in the palm of my right hand. It had the clean smell of oil to it. I set it on the oak desk and watched the sun glint off the barrel. The gun was wrapped in a heavy cloth in the safe. I took out the cloth, sat at the desk, polished the already shining gun and set it back in the patch of sun.

  At ten I went out for a paper and came home with the Trib and a box of pop tarts. Flopping down on the couch, I read and ate and fell asleep. The pageer woke me at 12:30. I anxiously answered expecting it to be Stosh, thrilled that the waiting was over. It wasn’t..

  I didn't recognize the number. A voice answered, "Happy toddler," and then Beef came on the line. “Spencer, Marty is gone.”

  That stopped me cold.

  “Spencer!” he yelled.

  “Yes. I heard you. What do you mean she’s gone?”

  “Missing. Not here. I got here to pick her up and she’s not here.”

  “Beef, she has to be there. Maybe she’s out playing.”

  “We’ve looked all over. She’s not here.”

  I kept thinking. “Washroom?”

  “Spencer. We’ve checked everywhere. You say one more thing and I’m ripping this phone out of the wall.”

  I knew he would. “Okay. When was the last time someone saw her?”

  Beef yelled away from the mouthpiece, “Hey, you! Yeah, you! When was the last time someone saw my kid? Well find out for chrissake.” Back to me. “Jesus, these people are idiots.”

  That may have been true, but I also realized Beef wasn’t the person to be asking the questions. “Beef, let me talk to whoever is in charge.” The phone banged down on a hard surface and I heard more yelling. In just a few seconds, a woman answered. “This is Miss Brown.”

  “Miss Brown, my name is Spencer Manning. I am a private detective. I understand Marty is missing.”

  “Well, we don’t know that, do we? Just because she isn’t here doesn’t mean she is missing. I and my staff do not have to take this abuse from Mr. Williams.”

  “No, you don’t. But he is upset and we would like to find Marty. If she is not there, what other explanation do you have?”

  “Mr. Williams does not always pick her up himself. There are several people on his list and sometimes he adds someone else. Just last week a strange man picked her up. If you ask me, he needs to pay more attention to the child. She needs stability, not strange people ferrying her around. If he doesn’t have time to...”

  “Miss Brown. Please. Give us some help here. The strange man last week was me and who picks her up is beside the point. Would you like me to call the police?”

  “Well, no. Of course not. Why would you do that?”

  I took a deep breath. “Because a child is missing.”

  “She is not...”

  I interrupted and considered letting her deal with Beef. “She is. We asked you to keep a special eye on her and now she is gone and we are concerned. Now if you are not going to help I will call the police.” I didn’t tell her I would anyway.

  “Well there’s no need to do that.”

  “Good. Then go ask your personnel and the kids when they last saw Marty and put Mr. Williams back on the line.”

  She did. I tried to calm him down and I asked if he couldn’t have asked Maria or someone else to pick her up. That didn’t calm him down.

  “Listen, PI. I know what I did and didn’t. I’m picking her up and she ain’t here. That’s what is. And are you just going to ask stupid questions?”

  “No, Beef. But we have to start somewhere and the simplest thing is that a mistake was made and she is already at home
.” I risked another stupid question. “Have you called home?”

  “No, I haven’t called home. How would she get home?”

  I needed to get him doing something to keep him busy. “Beef, Miss Brown is checking to see when someone last saw Marty. Put me on hold and you call home to just check, okay?”

  “Shit. I know...”

  “Beef, we need to rule that out and I need to wait for Miss Brown, so I would appreciate...”

  The phone clicked and I wondered if I was cut off or was put on hold. The man was one big pain in the ass and what I really wanted to do was tell him to go to hell. But I was concerned about Marty and would put up with his crap for her sake. A minute later Miss Brown was back on the line.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Several of the children remember playing with her but don’t remember her leaving. And none of my staff remember her leaving either. Miss Donnelley helped her clean up about noon, but then went on to someone else when she was done.”

  “Okay. Please put me back on hold for Mr. Williams.”

  She did. Beef came back and said Marty was not at home.

  “Beef, here’s what I want you to do. I will call the police and...”

  “Great, those assholes aren’t going to...”

  “Beef. Shut up.” He did. “Either you do what I say or you can go to hell. Got it?”

  “You know the cops don’t do anything. They didn’t do anything for Elizabeth.”

  I felt sorry for him but there was no sense in arguing. “Okay, I am going to do something, but we have to let them know so they can start looking.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have some places to look.”

  “Where? I’ll look.”

  Just what I needed. “No, I’ll look. You stay there and wait for the police.”

  “I’m not...”

  I hung up. I called Stosh’s direct line and got a detective O’Malley who told me Stosh wasn’t in. I knew where he was. I asked for Rosie. She wasn’t there either. I asked who was and he connected me to Rodriguez. I explained the situation and asked for him to get a car over to the center. He assured me they would be there in a few minutes. I warned him not to expect a happy taxpayer. I didn’t envy whoever got the call.