Drug Affair

by Rick Polad

  “Nope. But now that I’ve noticed, it seems odd.”

  “Not odd if you know why,” I said.

  “And you know why?”

  “I do.”

  “You going to tell me?”

  “If you ask.” I pretended to concentrate on driving so he wouldn’t see how much fun I was having playing with him.

  “Jesus. Okay. Why?”

  “Because there’s a law against it,” I said, glancing at him.

  His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. “A law against it? Okay, cut the clowning. What’s the real reason?”

  I nodded. “That is the real reason. The Garden Club of America was on a campaign to beautify our highways back in the early seventies. That led to the Highway Advertising Control Act in 1971. Most of the Edens runs through residential areas or forest preserves where billboards aren’t allowed. But even in the commercial areas there are local laws against them.”

  “That’s amazing. You’re pretty smart.”

  I laughed. “It has nothing to do with smart. It has to do with only talking about things I know.”

  “A rare quality.”

  “Here’s a bit more. It was named after William Edens, a banker who was an early advocate of paved roads. He sponsored the first highway bond issue in Illinois in 1918.”

  “A treasure trove of information.”

  I turned off the Edens onto Lake Street and headed over to Sheridan Road to take the leisurely drive through the richest congressional district in the country. We gawked at the mansions with tennis courts and gatehouses bigger than my house. The cheap houses were on the west side of the road. The real money had beachfront and a view of the lake.

  “So did you make your calls?” I asked.

  “Yup. One paid off.”

  I pointed at a huge glass structure that looked more like an office building and shook my head. “Which one?”

  “The one that’s meeting us for lunch. Her name is Halley Rundel. Seems she and the senator had an affair five years ago that lasted a couple of years.”

  I sighed. “That’s become the norm, especially up there in money land. How’s that going to help me?”

  “There’s a bit more to it.”

  “Did his wife find out?”

  “Yes. But they kissed and made up.”

  “Okay. Back to how’s that going to help.”

  “He evidently got Halley hooked on heroin.”

  “Nice. But the stories of drug addicts don’t usually hold up too well.”

  “She went into rehab and is off the stuff.”

  “Good, but—”

  “But the story continues.”

  “Did he pay for the rehab?”

  “He did, for a while.”

  “Fine upstanding citizen. A while?”

  “After a few months the senator told her he couldn’t keep paying for the rehab. Evidently the missus found out about it and had a fit.”

  “Imagine that. Don’t blame her. But I wonder why he listened to her.”

  “Well, here’s why. I looked into our dear senator. He married money. He makes a good living, but not enough to support that lifestyle. The house, the cars, the trust funds… all hers. Her daddy was in the steel business.”

  “Ah, nice way to make a living. Good old Daddy. End result is Halley is left with some bills.”

  “And she isn’t happy about it.”

  “Nope. And she’s willing to talk to you. But perhaps we won’t need that.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m thinking just mentioning her name might make the senator more cooperative,” Ben said.

  “Or more angry. Our last meeting didn’t end well. Where are we meeting her?”

  “I wasn’t sure how long this would go, so I told her twelve thirty. There’s a diner called The Hideaway a little north of here on 41. Looks like a dump, but they’ve got great burgers.”

  “How did you find that?”

  “I get around.”

  “You do, but not usually to places that look like dumps.”

  I turned off of Sheridan onto South Street and headed west a few blocks to Green Bay Road where I turned right. After a few more blocks I turned onto Lincoln, made a right on Vernon and in less than a block turned into the entrance to Temple Am Shalom. I pulled into the first spot off the street. The lot was about half full. We left the windows down and walked toward the chairs set up in ten rows in front of the temple. In front of the large glass doors was a platform with a podium and five chairs. Senator Nadem was second from the left. Two very stern looking men in black suits stood on either side of the platform. I had a feeling I wouldn’t get too close to the senator.

  A man whom I assumed was the rabbi was speaking. I didn’t recognize any of the others. We sat in the last row as the rabbi thanked everyone for coming and introduced the guests. Aside from the senator, there were the mayor of Glencoe and two officials of the temple. He said he’d keep his comments short, and Ben rolled his eyes. He’d heard that promise before. But, with only a few comments about the wonderful opportunity for worship, the rabbi did just that. He was overjoyed to dedicate the new Temple Am Shalom, the new home of the first Hebrew congregation on the north side of Chicago, founded in 1867. He then introduced Senator Nadem.

  The senator was dressed in a grey suit with a light-blue tie that fit him perfectly and looked expensive. His tie was probably worth more than my two suits. In his job it was all about image. But I smiled as I thought he came in second place in the fashion show to Larry Maggio, my friendly crime boss, whom I had never seen in anything but a three-piece suit. There was a pecking order, and Maggio was on top.

  Nadem smiled wide at the crowd… with a lot of perfect teeth but completely devoid of warmth and feeling. They were taught that in Politics 101. A lot of wavy brown hair, not one hair out of place. His teeth couldn’t have been any whiter. I waited for them to glisten in the sun, but they let me down. I watched the crowd more than listened, but his main theme was religious freedom and the diversity of faiths in his district. The spin was that he was somehow taking credit for that. As he spoke he scanned the crowd. I was sure the scan found me. I lost interest in what he was saying and looked at the temple.

  The white building sparkled in the morning sun, but it didn’t look like any temple or church I had ever seen. The sides looked like the bows of boats standing on end side by side. Each bow was a window with the peak at the top. The roof sections matched the boats and reminded me of a nun’s coronet except that instead of the wings sweeping out to the sides the sweep was up to the middle, perhaps reaching toward heaven. A light breeze off the lake gently rustled the leaves and made sitting in the sun comfortable.

  When everyone had given a speech, the rabbi again thanked everyone for coming, welcomed all faiths to services, and invited everyone to stay for refreshments inside the temple where there would be a receiving line.

  “We staying?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah. I’d like to hit the receiving line.”

  “You planning on saying something to Nadem?”

  “I’ll play it by ear, but probably not. I just want to remind him that I’m not going away. Maybe something will fall out of that tree if I keep shaking it.”

  “And maybe you’ll end up on the wrong side of the bars.”

  I smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”

  “Ah, I knew there was a reason you kept buying me food. But if I’m in the middle of a good round you’re going to have to wait.”

  I laughed. “You coming?”

  “Sure. Don’t want to miss any fireworks.”

  The ceremony had only lasted forty-five minutes, so we had plenty of time. We waited for the line to form and stood at the end. I figured that was my best chance to say something if I had the chance.

  The senator was smiling at a
voter when he noticed me. The look of anger on his face made me feel honored that he remembered me. When I got up to him, I smiled and said, “Holly Rundel sends her regards.”

  He was standing next to the rabbi, so he couldn’t tactfully say what he probably wanted to. But I had a good guess what it would have been. The two black suits were a yard behind him. I smiled and said something to them about it being a nice day for a dedication. They didn’t smile back, and they didn’t say a word. But they stepped up, almost touching his shoulders.

  I smiled some more. “It’s all right boys… I don’t bite.”

  I moved on and had a few nice words with the rabbi. We didn’t stay for the refreshments.

  “Well that wasn’t as fun as it could have been,” Ben said as we walked to the car.

  “But it was productive.”

  “How so?”

  “You saw the look on his face. I got under his skin. And he knows I know something he’d rather not have known. Now he’ll be wondering where I’ll show up next. And I got to play with a couple Secret Service goons.”

  “Where will you show up next?”

  I shrugged and got in the car. “No clue. I’m playing all this by ear.”

  “I’ll stick with golf. I may be a bit aberrant, but at least I know where the path is.”

  We were the first ones out of the parking lot. As I turned back onto Lincoln, Ben said, “Since we have some time, you wanna take a look at a Frank Lloyd Wright house?”

  “Sure. Where?”

  “It’s almost due east of here on Sheridan. So go back to where we turned off and head north. We’re looking for 850, but it should be pretty obvious.”

  It was. Sitting on a rise next to a ravine on the west side of Sheridan was one of Wright’s prairie style homes. A lot of glass gave a nice view of Lake Michigan. The single-story home was sided in brown board and batten that fit in with the trees and shrubbery on a good-sized lot. I pulled onto the shoulder across the street.

  “That’s what I’d expect from Wright,” I said. “Very picturesque and typical.”

  “Yup. Pretty similar to his houses in Oak Park. But the outside covers up a lot of problems.”

  “Such as?”

  “He designed for style and to fit into the environment. Function took a back seat. Such as his homes are known for leaky roofs. Whoever buys one does a lot of remodeling on the inside.”

  “I’ll stick with my humble abode,” I said.

  “Me too, but it would be fun to spend a weekend. Can’t beat the view.”

  “I’m good with taking a tour. And did someone mention cheeseburgers?”

  As I pulled into the drive and turned around, Ben asked if I knew who invented Lincoln Logs.

  “Lincoln?”

  “Uh, no. Frank’s son John.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. They worked together and were working on the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo when an argument over salary ended with father firing son. John needed something else to do and started making wooden toy buildings. He used the interlocking timber design his father used to earthquake-proof the hotel and thought the toy cabin looked like the childhood home of Abraham Lincoln.”

  “How much of that did you make up?”

  “Not a bit. Don’t be so cynical.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for the history lesson.”

  ***

  Despite the detour, we got to The Hideaway a little before noon and got a booth. From the outside it bordered on seedy. But there were eight Harleys parked in front. Guys who rode Harleys knew where the good burgers were. The inside décor was that of a typical diner with a guy with big shoulders in a T-shirt behind the counter with arms that looked like they could lift a horse. Ben pointed to him, and he returned a two-fingered salute and waved us to a booth. A waitress who appeared to be in her seventies, with tattoos on both arms, brought menus. She wasn’t exactly typical. Neither was the lack of cigarette smoke. We told her we were waiting for someone and ordered beer. There wasn’t much of a selection… Pabst, Miller, and Hamms. Stosh wouldn’t have been happy. We both ordered PBR.

  I mentioned the smoke and the salute.

  “He owns the joint. His wife died of lung cancer a couple years ago. He thinks it’s related and did something about it. He has a T-shirt that says ‘The surgeon general is an idiot.’”

  “Pretty forward thinking for a biker diner. I’m surprised he didn’t worry about losing customers.”

  “He didn’t have to. Every biker that comes in here was at her funeral.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “I was there too. There was a little problem with drugs a few years ago. He and the state came to an agreement that included his help with something only he was qualified to help with, and we developed a friendship of sorts.”

  “And I’m guessing the qualified help wasn’t exactly by the book.”

  “Depends on whose book.”

  At twenty after, Halley walked in. I knew it was her. She didn’t have any tattoos.

  Chapter 24

  What she did have was a look of late twenties innocence—long hair that was a lot more blonde than God had ever intended, very blue eyes that also argued with God’s plan, and hardly any makeup. Her skin was puzzling… she was almost white, which didn’t fit with the hair and eyes. I would have figured her for a tanning booth.

  I stood up and waved, and she walked over and slid in next to Ben. All of her motions were choppy. He gave me a smug look and then made introductions. The waitress showed up a minute later and asked Halley what she wanted to drink. When she asked for tea the waitress just stared at her. She switched to water. With a look of disbelief at me, the waitress walked away shaking her head.

  “Not a tea type of place,” I said.

  She laughed nervously. We talked about the weather until the waitress brought the water and took orders for three cheeseburgers.

  “Ben told me some of your story, Miss Rundel. Why don’t you tell me about you and the senator. How did you meet?” I figured that was a good ice breaker, but I already knew. The same way almost everyone meets… proximity. Same place at the same time, and one thing leads to another. Late night at the campaign office. But I wondered what they had in common. Proximity isn’t much of a basis for a long-term relationship.

  She started talking… and tapping her nicely manicured nails softly on the Formica tabletop.

  “I was helping with his campaign six years ago, just out of college. I thought he was the best, out to save the world and so energetic. Everyone loved him.” She took a few sips. “I guess I did too after a while.”

  I gave her some space, and she stared at her glass and touched the left corner of her mouth with her tongue. Then she took a deep breath.

  “We ended up working late one night, and everyone else had left. He asked if I wanted a drink, and I didn’t want to refuse him, so I said yes. He offered Scotch or wine. I took the wine, and I guess I had too much. But we were working, and I just lost track as he kept refilling my glass. One thing led to another, and…”

  I gave her a few seconds while she thought about the “and.”

  “How long did it last?”

  She shrugged. “A little more than a year.”

  The burgers arrived. I figured she wasn’t too hungry. I wasn’t too hungry myself. Ben asked me to pass the ketchup.

  “Was it supposed to last forever?” I asked.

  She nodded. “He said he was leaving his wife.”

  “But there were problems,” I said. “There was the son, and the house, and the things he had to work out for the divorce.”

  She just stared at her food. I wasn’t telling her anything new.

  Ben slid the ketchup back, and I added some to my plate for the fries. I offered it to Halley, and she shook her head.

  I smiled at her
and said, “I hear the burgers here are special. A girl’s gotta eat.”

  I got a little smile, and she said, “Maybe I will have the ketchup.”

  I passed it.

  I knew the story. It hadn’t changed since the beginning of time. But she needed to tell it. And I figured if she told it maybe there’d be something I could use. But at the moment I wasn’t sure what I’d use it for, whatever it turned out to be.

  I took a bite and after a few chews asked, “Then what?”

  “After a few months of hearing about his problems, I told him we needed to break it off. He said he loved me, and he just needed a little more time. When I refused he said I needed something to calm me down… make me think better, he said.”

  “What was that?”

  “Marijuana. He said it would help me realize what I really wanted.” She took a bite. “I told him I didn’t do drugs. He said it wasn’t a drug.”

  “So you did?”

  She put the burger down as her eyes filled with tears. “I couldn’t say no to him. I wanted to believe he was going to leave his wife.” She sat up straight, took a deep breath, and dried her eyes with the napkin.

  I let her be. Ben kept eating, looking like he wasn’t interested in the conversation. But I knew he’d be able to repeat every word later.

  She took another bite and chewed slowly.

  “The only problem was there was something besides marijuana in the marijuana. He grew elephant ears, and I felt like my words weren’t coming out of my mouth. I was afraid, but he told me it would be all right. He said that as he was unbuttoning my blouse.” She looked up at me. “When I met him that night I had planned on breaking it off, but I couldn’t control what was happening. I wasn’t a part of it. It was just happening.”

  “Where did you two meet up, Halley?” Ben asked.

  “He has an apartment a few blocks down from his office. He uses it for out-of-town guests, and…”

  There was the and again.

  Ben was done eating. I was getting there. Halley was nibbling. He gestured at the waitress, and she brought two more beers and refilled Halley’s water.

  “Did you do the marijuana again?” I asked.