Drug Affair

by Rick Polad

  I smiled back. “Spencer.”

  She was still smiling. “Spencer, sir.”

  I was glad to get out of that house. As I pulled out of the long drive I thought about what Jeanne was dealing with. Her son had been arrested and then killed, and she was suspected in a murder. And there was something going on with Bast. Maybe that was none of my business. And maybe it was. I did know one thing for sure. I was looking forward to a Saturday gin game with Stosh.

  Chapter 21

  I was up with the birds Saturday morning. The sky was clear, and the air was a bit humid. I watched the sky brighten and read the paper on the deck. The sports page offered the most hope. The year 1985 was forecast to be the Cubs’ year. They had added players at key positions over the winter, had plugged the holes that made for the disaster of 1984, and were making plans for the first World Series on the north side since 1945, which they had lost.

  A little after seven I made scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and settled back in on the deck. Mom’s perennials were making another yearly appearance. I wondered about the vagaries of life that had taken away my family and thought I needed to spend some time with Aunt Rose. That always helped.

  ***

  Our Saturday gin date didn’t vary. The rut we were in was comfortable. I always felt at home when I turned onto Stosh’s street lined with brick homes in a middle-class neighborhood of hard-working people. The yards and the houses were well-kept, and neighbors knew each other. The dreariness of Friday had given way to bright sunshine. When I showed up at a few minutes past twelve the table was set up in the living room with a deck of cards in the middle and the scorepad at one of the corners. A selection of deli meats and bread was laid out on the kitchen counter, and the Schlitz was in the fridge. I pulled out two slices of dark rye, loaded on corned beef, and covered that with Thousand Island dressing. We ate at the card table.

  “So, kid, what’s the status of the Margot case? You quit yet?” He laughed.

  “Not yet, but I’ve thought about it.”

  “You should,” he said with a mouthful of roast beef. “You’re in the middle of a circus. Bunch of egos running around in clown outfits. Murder of a senator’s kid… everybody wants credit for solving that one.”

  “I’m getting that impression.”

  “Bast has to deal with it… you don’t.”

  “Might end up that way, but Mrs. Margot appears to be caught in the middle of this mess, and she has had enough on her plate. Her son was no prize, but he was her son.”

  He nodded and took a long drink from the bottle.

  “So you think she’s innocent?”

  “Of murder… yes. But when I asked her if she knew Bast before Reynolds was arrested she reacted with a shock before saying she didn’t and asking why I asked.”

  “Why did you ask?”

  I told him about the fraternity plaques.

  “Could have just been a guy thing. Lots they don’t share with their wives.”

  “And maybe things get shared that the husbands don’t know about.”

  “Hanky-panky?” he asked with sarcastic disbelief.

  I started on the second half of my sandwich. “I know, hard to believe that could happen. But there was something that startled her. Sure like to know what it is.”

  “Why were her prints on file?”

  “She’s got a degree in psychology, something to do with stress, and got a job working for the Evanston police with officers who had been in stressful situations.”

  “Yeah, I remember something about that.” He took another drink. “Pretty ironic given all the stress in her life.”

  I agreed and ate the last of my sandwich. “I’m gonna make another sandwich. You want anything?”

  He tipped up his bottle, finished it, and handed it to me as he said, “It’s a lot easier to solve other people’s problems.”

  I took the bottle and my plate and headed for the kitchen.

  When I got back he had turned on the TV. Spring training on WGN.

  “What do you know about the gun?” he asked.

  “The kid was making trips to the west side to sell drugs. He probably took the gun with him… for protection is my guess.”

  “Probably made him feel like a big shot, but firing it is something else altogether.”

  “Yeah. Who knows? Another guess is whoever killed him took the gun.”

  “A good guess. Now all you have to do is find whoever.”

  “That’s all.” I took the cards out of the box. “The gun is used to kill Nadem, and the only prints on it are Reynolds’ and Jeanne’s. She—”

  “Jeanne?” he said with a smile.

  “She’s asked me several times to call her Jeanne. I’m getting used to it.”

  “How much?”

  I just glared at him. “Kenilworth brought her in for questioning because her prints were on the gun. She wasn’t too happy—”

  “She agreed to that?”

  I started shuffling and told him how it had happened.

  “Lawyer?” he asked.

  “Called him, but he wasn’t in. He read the riot act when he got to the station.”

  “Not fond of lawyers, but that wasn’t by the book on the part of Kenilworth. Whatever she said will be disallowed if it comes to that.”

  “She didn’t say anything, but not a gold star for the police. I wonder why they bent that procedure.”

  He took the last bite of his sandwich and washed it down. “Pressure. They’re getting squeezed from all sides to solve the murder.”

  “Murders.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, well, only one matters to the people running the circus.”

  I shook my head. “So they pull in a woman who just lost her son based on prints that have every reason to be on that gun?”

  “They’re grasping at straws. Now they can say they did something. And at the moment it’s more than everyone else is doing.”

  “You don’t think they’re doing anything?”

  He laughed. “Oh, they’re doing plenty. They just don’t have anything.”

  “How do you know?”

  He laughed again. “I guarantee you, when they have something it’ll be all over the news.”

  I agreed.

  “Got a plan?” he asked.

  “Need to start shaking some trees.”

  “Which ones?”

  “No idea. I’m hoping for some guidance from above.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Sister Katherine says the Lord will provide.”

  He smiled. “He just might, but sometimes the Lord needs a bit of help.”

  “While I’m waiting I’ll have a chat with the senator.”

  He laughed again… harder. “Oh you will, will you?”

  “Doesn’t hurt to try.”

  “Feds and a senator… let me know how all that goes.”

  “I’m gonna open some doors and see who walks in.”

  “Said the spider to the fly. Now deal, before you shuffle the spots off the cards.”

  ***

  The Cubs beat the Mets, and I won three bucks from Stosh. I went to bed early with Chandler’s The Big Sleep and tried to think of a way to bluff my way into a meeting with a senator. Two hours later I closed the book and hoped a plan would come to me in a vision.

  Chapter 22

  I got to the office Monday morning a little after ten. Carol had pulled out my beeper and set it on my desk along with a note saying she’d be back around ten thirty… something at Billy’s school. Watson opened one eye and looked at me to make sure I belonged there and went back to sleep. I added some notes to the Margot file for Carol to type and heard the front door being unlocked a little after eleven.

  “That you, my girl Friday?”

  “Someone else have a key?” She walk
ed into my office and sat on one of the wooden armchairs.

  “Nope. What was going on at school?”

  “A play about George Washington. Billy was a tree… a talking tree that gave advice to George.”

  I laughed. “Didn’t read about that in the history books. How’d he do?”

  “The audience loved him.”

  “He’ll be a star someday. Thanks for the beeper.”

  “Sure. If I don’t reach you on the phone I’ll send a message. Anything new on Margot?”

  “Nope, unless you count a lot of negative vibes from Bast and Stosh. The general consensus is I won’t get much cooperation from the feds or the senator.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. How are you going to stir this pot?”

  Watson wandered in and lay down next to Carol. Man’s best friend.

  “Been trying to think of a way to talk to Senator Nadem.”

  “I could try the same tactic I used on Thward… just keep calling for an appointment.”

  I laughed. “I have a feeling his secretary wall is stronger than Thward’s. But wouldn’t hurt to try calling. He has an office in Glencoe. Would you see if you can work your magic?”

  “Sure.” Watson followed her out without as much as a glance back at me.

  I was working on the notes when she came back in.

  “A very pleasant and proper Miss O’Keefe informed me that the senator was not taking appointments because of a family tragedy. But he reads all of his mail, and I was welcome to put my concerns in a letter.”

  “Sure he does, and pigs can fly.” I sighed. “Thanks for trying.”

  “But she did share some information about his schedule. He’s attending a ceremony tomorrow for the dedication of the Am Shalom Temple in Glencoe.”

  “Hmmm. I read about that in the paper this morning. I’ve driven by… it’s a beautiful building on the lakefront.”

  “I hear wheels turning.”

  “Slowly. Thanks, Carol. I’ll have these notes ready for you in a few minutes.”

  “Do you want me to try calling again?”

  “No, I think I’ll take a drive up there and see if I can work my charm in person.”

  “Which version of your charm are you planning on using?”

  I laughed. “I’ll play it by ear.”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Maybe you should take Watson with you.”

  “You think he’d come?”

  “Only if there’s food involved.”

  “One of these days I’ll have to have a chat with him about who buys that food.”

  “You do that. When are you going?”

  “No time like the present.”

  “Good luck. Call if you need anything… like a lawyer or a bail bond.”

  “Or a new office manager.”

  She waved on her way out of my office.

  ***

  Traffic was light, and it only took a half hour to get to Glencoe. Nadem’s office was on a corner lot on the edge of the downtown area. It was a two-story, stone building with his name prominently displayed on the large glass windows. A red Maserati was parked right in front. He was in. I parked two spots away and walked in. The only person in the outer office was a nicely dressed woman who looked to be about thirty seated behind a large white desk. She was on the phone with a headset, working hard at earning a living. Three nails on her left hand had already been done. They were a light shade of blue to match her sweater and the sapphire collar pin on her white blouse. I stood by the door and watched and listened. She was very politely telling someone about how busy the senator was and that they should write a letter. When she disconnected I walked slowly to her desk. She kept working on her nails.

  With a rehearsed smile she said, “Good morning… how can I help you?” She struck me as the kind who’d dot her i’s with little hearts.

  I smiled back. Mine was rehearsed too. “Good morning. I’d like to see the senator.”

  She gave me a look that mothers sadly give to children who aren’t going to be able to go to the circus and then went back to her nails. Two left. “I’m afraid Senator Nadem isn’t in.”

  “His car says he’s in.”

  She didn’t hesitate for a second. “The senator is often driven to an engagement.”

  “When will he back?”

  “He has a full schedule today. Perhaps not until this evening.”

  There was a hallway behind her, and I could see three closed doors. There was a muffled voice coming from behind one of those doors.

  “Seems like someone is back there,” I said, nodding to the hallway.

  She wasn’t flustered a bit. “Several people are on the senator’s staff, but I don’t see where that’s any of your business, Mister...

  “Manning, Spencer.”

  “And what is it you want, Mr. Manning?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Well, if you would like to send a letter requesting an appointment and stating your personal issue, we will review your request.” All of that without looking up once from her hands.

  I glanced at the nameplate on her desk and the ring on her finger.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Stadler. I may do that.” I smiled… she didn’t. I said goodbye and wished her a nice day. She just nodded. I made her day nicer already… I left, but I didn’t go far.

  I wanted to see who the voice belonged to, so I sat in my Mustang, rolled the window down, and figured whoever it was would be going out for lunch. It was another hour until noon, and I had nothing else to do.

  ***

  The hour went by slowly. No one had come or gone. I was getting hungry and decided I’d give it until twelve thirty. At ten after, the door opened, and Senator Nadem walked out, alone. I was surprised he had no security. I got out of my car and caught him just as he was opening his door.

  “Good afternoon, Senator,” I said with a smile.

  He smiled back… that typical greet-a-voter smile. One hand was still on his door handle.

  “My name is Spencer Manning. I’m a private investigator working for Mrs. Margot, and I’m wondering if I can have a few minutes of your time.”

  The smile disappeared, and he let go of the door. “I’m just heading to a meeting, but I’m sure I have nothing to tell you, Mr. Manning.”

  He didn’t ask who Mrs. Margot was.

  “You never know. And I may be able to help you.”

  “And how do you figure that?”

  “I’m sorry about your son. I think it’s possible that his death and that of Reynolds Margot are related.”

  He banged his hip into the car door and slammed it shut. “And accosting me in the street and adding to what me and my family are going through is your way of showing how sorry you are?”

  “I do apologize, Senator. But I did try to call, and I was in your office an hour ago and was told you weren’t in.”

  “You have a lot of nerve, Manning. What is it you’re trying to do?”

  “Find the truth.”

  “Perhaps you haven’t read the papers, but there is an army of federal agents and police looking for the same thing.”

  “Maybe they’re not looking in the right places.”

  His face was turning red. He gave me a hard stare and said, “I’d be careful if I were you. You might be sorry you stuck your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

  I smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry already.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For voting for you. That sounds like a threat.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Not a threat… just advice. Advice a wise man would follow.”

  “Great. I’ll see if I can find a wise man to follow it.”

  “You’re going to walk away right now or I’m calling the police. You won’t know what hit you. Don’t be stupid.”


  “Never been big on innuendo, Senator. If by stupid you mean not following your orders, that’s never worked out well with me.”

  “Well maybe you should learn.”

  I shrugged. “Old dog, new tricks, Senator.”

  I was done being a smartass… I walked away. He pulled out before me, squealing his tires as he drove off.

  I sat in the car for a few minutes wondering where that got me and decided it hadn’t gotten me anywhere for the moment. But that tree had been shaken, and in the past things happened when I shook the trees.

  I started the car and picked up my phone and dialed Ben. He answered on the third ring.

  “Just caught me, Spencer. Lunch and a round of golf. I’ve only got a minute. What’s up?”

  I asked if he wanted to join me for a temple dedication. He was thrilled, as long as it included lunch on me. It was a good thing he’d work for food… I couldn’t afford his rates. I told him about my problem of getting some time with the senator, and he asked what I had up my sleeve. I had no idea. He said he might have an idea, but it might cost me another lunch.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Politics is a dirty game. If there’s dirt on somebody, somebody else is usually going to find it. And where money and power are involved there’s a lot of dirt. Money changes hands, and the dirt is swept under the rug.”

  “So?”

  “So, after eighteen years in the state’s attorney’s office I know where a lot of those rugs are.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve got something on the senator?”

  “I’m not telling anything, but I’ll make some calls.”

  I thanked him and wished him a good game. He laughed and said a good game was when he came home with all his clubs.

  Chapter 23

  Tuesday was a beautiful sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky… a perfect spring day. The ceremony was scheduled for ten. I picked up Ben at nine, and we took the Edens Expressway north to Lake Street.

  “You ever wonder why the Edens doesn’t have any billboards?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  I pulled around a semi. The Mustang easily pulled away from the truck.

  “You never noticed?”