Drug Affair

by Rick Polad

“We came down here when I was a kid. Stayed in a big house on the beach. But I’d take the car and explore. I liked neighborhoods like this. People would talk to me like I belonged there… not like they had to because we had money.”

  That didn’t answer my question… I wanted to know what had made him leave Chicago. I’d follow up on that.

  I could see the tavern after we turned the next corner. It was flanked by a bakery and a bicycle shop. There was only one other couple outside on the patio. We sat five tables away from them and ordered beer and burgers.

  Chapter 42

  After the waitress left, Raymond said, “I don’t know how I can help you, but I’ll try and answer your questions.”

  I figured I might as well start with the hard one. “Why did you leave home?”

  “The easy answer is my mother begged me to.”

  I stopped my glass just as I was about to take a drink. “Begged?”

  “Didn’t make any sense to me either. But she was insistent. I needed to get away and disappear.”

  “From what?”

  He shrugged and took a drink. “Don’t know. I thought about it a lot at first, but now I just don’t care anymore.”

  “When was this?”

  “About a month after my… after the accident.”

  I set my glass down. “Sorry about that, Raymond. That must have been awful.”

  He slowly turned his glass on the glass-topped table. “Yeah, would have been horrible even if it wasn’t my fault.”

  I stretched out my legs under the table and said, “I heard someone ran a red light and broadsided you.”

  He nodded.

  “How’s that your fault?”

  He was silent for a moment, staring at the glass. “I should have been paying better attention. I should have swerved or something.”

  “You weren’t paying attention?”

  “No. We were arguing.”

  “About what?”

  He stared at the glass some more. “My brother. I was trying to get my father to pay attention to something I thought was a problem.”

  I finished my beer and waited. The waitress came out, and I got her attention and held up a finger.

  “My brother got into a lot of trouble in high school. He hung around with people who did things I didn’t agree with. It wasn’t the first time I brought something up. But my father was too involved in his own life to pay attention, and my mother thought the sun rose and set over Reynolds. Neither one of them paid much attention to me.”

  “Probably because you were the good kid. They knew you’d be okay.”

  He shrugged. “If being ignored by your parents is okay.”

  I figured I should leave that alone. Family counseling was above my pay grade. “What was the problem you were arguing about?”

  “There was a friend of my father’s from his fraternity in college who was a part of my parents’ social circle. He’d be at every party. Reynolds and I were expected to make an appearance… I guess to show what a great family we had. This guy paid a lot of attention to me and my brother. Thought a lot of himself. He told me he had plans for me that would lead to a big future. I assume he told Reynolds the same thing. I couldn’t stand him… he was pretty sleazy. But Reynolds ate it up. Then one night I was out at a restaurant with friends, and this guy was there… in a booth. When I went to the bathroom I saw Reynolds sitting across from him. They seemed to be having a pretty serious conversation.”

  My radar had clicked on when he said fraternity. “Did you say anything to Reynolds?”

  The waitress brought my beer and asked Raymond if he wanted another. He shook his head. “Your burgers will be right up,” she said.

  As she walked away, he said, “No. I’d given up on talking to him. He just laughed at me when I would show any concern. Said I’d never get anywhere in life hiding behind a book.”

  “And that’s what you were arguing with your father about?”

  “Yeah. I thought something strange was going on, and I wanted him to talk to his friend.”

  “Do you know the friend’s name?”

  He tried to think but came up empty. “No. I was obviously introduced to him at some point, but I was introduced to so many they all just became a blur.”

  “Does the name Bast ring a bell?” I asked.

  He looked like he was trying to remember. “Might be,” he finally said. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” Then his thoughtful look turned to puzzled. He looked at me with squinted eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I told you I’ve been looking into your brother’s drug problem. The name came up.”

  “I thought you were investigating his murder.”

  I nodded as the waitress brought the burgers. They were served in plastic baskets with wax paper liners. A stack of fries filled half the basket. She asked if we wanted anything besides the ketchup and mustard she set down. We didn’t. She glanced at the beers, saw they were more than half full, and walked away.

  I poured ketchup on the fries and said, “I always figured this all started with the drug arrest. The murders are part of that.”

  In the middle of a bite, he said, “Murders? Plural?”

  “Don’t you get any news down here?” I wasn’t surprised he hadn’t heard about his brother. But the murder of a senator’s son should have made nationwide news.

  “I don’t pay much attention. Don’t have a TV.”

  There were several things about that disconnect from the world that sounded nice. “Lucky you.”

  I told him about Mark Nadem. He sighed and looked far off.

  “He was someone my brother hung around with. They both liked the same things… all of them expensive.”

  “And maybe dangerous.”

  He looked confused. “What does that mean?”

  “I had your brother followed. He met Mark at a restaurant. My man sat close enough that he could hear them talking about daring each other. Sounded like each time the stakes would be raised.”

  He sighed and nodded. “Sounds like my brother. The more dangerous the more fun it was.”

  I had more questions but wasn’t sure how far I should push him. So far he was doing okay. He seemed to have accepted his family and the role he played in it. And he seemed to be doing just fine down here in Lone Star.

  We were both done eating. The waitress stopped and asked if we wanted dessert. Raymond recommended the peach ice cream. I held up two fingers. As she walked away the street lights came on. I hadn’t noticed it getting dark. The sky was a darker blue over the houses to the east, and the temperature had dropped. But I was still comfortable in a short-sleeved shirt. Several people had come and gone, and we were now alone on the patio. I had one more question.

  “Who are you hiding from?”

  The ice cream arrived, and he shook his head.

  “I have no idea.”

  We each took a bite. His recommendation was a good one.

  “I thought about it a lot when I first got down here and came up almost empty.”

  “Did you ever ask your mother?”

  “Yes. She didn’t answer… just told me it would be the wise thing to do. But she knew. How could she not?”

  “She couldn’t.”

  He took another bite. “Then why do you think she’s not saying?”

  “She’s afraid. And she thinks that’s the best thing to do to protect you.”

  He scooped his spoon around the edges of the ice cream. “I’m sure she does, but I think if you know what a challenge is you can better face it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I told him I did. “Almost empty?”

  He took a big bite and stared at the spoon as if it had answers. “I only came up with one thing. Someone was holding something over her head.”

  He paused. I let him think and finished
my ice cream.

  “And if I put several things together I came up with an answer I didn’t like, so I stopped thinking about it.”

  He paused some more, and this time I prompted him.

  “What were the things?”

  “I didn’t like Bast. And I didn’t like him meeting with my brother. And nobody wanted to talk about that. And somebody had something that threatened my mother.”

  This time I let it lie. He knew what it was, and I knew what he thought it was. Nobody wants to know that their mother was having an affair. But I thought there was more to it than that.

  I was done asking him questions. I was surprised he had answered all the ones I had asked. But I had more questions for his mother… more questions that Mrs. Margot probably wouldn’t answer truthfully. And the more she didn’t answer, the more I would know the answers.

  When we got back to his house I handed him a card and told him to call me if he wanted to know how things were going. He said he probably wouldn’t call… he was happy not knowing. I couldn’t blame him. It looked like he was pretty happy in Lone Star without all that money.

  ***

  I got back to my hotel room at a little before ten, called the airline and booked a seat for Saturday early afternoon. I called Stosh and asked him to pick me up. Then I called Ben, and we chatted about Bast. Ben had found nothing out of the ordinary. No big bank accounts or fancy toys. He lived a normal middle-class life. I was hoping for more. He pointed out that maybe Bast was setting himself up for early retirement with a hidden account somewhere.

  I turned on the TV and let it keep me company while I thought about all the pieces. I put them together in a way that made sense and then wondered what I’d do about it. I had no clue. After an hour I still didn’t, so I switched to thinking about Rosie, missing her, and wondering what she was up to. I fell asleep wondering.

  Chapter 43

  Stosh was waiting for me as I walked out of the glass doors at O’Hare into weather that wasn’t anywhere near eighty and sunny. The pilot had said partly cloudy and fifty-two. I threw my bag in the back seat and climbed in.

  “So you tempted fate and survived another flight, eh, kid?”

  “I did. I love living on the edge.”

  It was a bit early for dinner, but we decided to head for Gino’s for pizza, talk over a few beers, and get out of there before the Saturday night crowds showed up. We picked up my car, I drove to his house, and I drove to Gino’s.

  Traffic was already heavy on the Kennedy, but we weren’t in a hurry. I wanted to wait until I had his full attention to tell him about my evening with Raymond.

  While we drove, he asked, “Wanna hear about my Friday?”

  “I’m on pins and needles.”

  “Of course you are. The calls started coming in again yesterday. Six stores, all within two blocks of each other, and five blocks from the last robberies.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “But this time we were ready. I figured they were testing our response in that neighborhood, but they wouldn’t be after a grocery store or a shoe repair shop. I figured they would be after something more high-end. So we walked the neighborhood and identified two jewelry stores. We’ve had those two under surveillance all week. They’re three blocks away from the other six. They hit both, and we got ‘em on the way out.”

  He looked very proud of himself.

  “You figured all that, did you?”

  He glanced at me quickly out of the corner of his eye and said, “I may have had some help.”

  “You may have. I seem to vaguely remember something about all that.”

  “Whatever… it all worked out good.”

  “Great! Anything else you need help with feel free to call.”

  We spent the rest of the drive talking baseball and weather.

  I found a spot on the street only a block from the restaurant.

  ***

  We slid into a booth, and the waiter brought waters and menus. We ordered beer and a half-and-half sausage pepperoni and mushroom green peppers pizza. I was trying to be healthy. Sometimes I succeeded.

  After the beer came, I told him about my trip and what I had learned.

  “So you’re thinking the mother was sleeping with Bast.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. Husband working long hours, not paying attention. At the house a lot for parties. Starts with an innocent cup of coffee and pretty soon…”

  “Yeah, nothing like frat buddies.” He took a long drink and said, “Your expertise with psychology aside, you still got no proof.”

  “Why must you always dredge up the technicalities?”

  He laughed as a couple was seated at the table next to our booth. “In my line of work it’s not exactly a technicality.”

  “Why I’m not in your line of work.”

  “So, Mom having an affair, kid involved in drugs, two dead kids. Tie all this together.”

  “And drugs planted in my car at a police station, and a senator who’d rather not talk about all this, and ten other things that keep me awake at night. I thought it started with the drug arrest, but it looks like it started with the affair.” We both sipped while I talked.

  “Try this. Mom hooks up with Bast. Bast at some point gets into the drug business, maybe back in his college days, and it becomes a nice sideline when he becomes a cop. She tells him about Reynolds, her problem child. Doesn’t know what to do with him. Bast knows and sees it as a chance to expand into the burbs. So he recruits Reynolds, who thinks it’s a great idea, and he has a friend, the senator’s kid.”

  I picked up my beer, drank, and looked at Stosh who was listening with only a slightly furrowed brow.

  “The kids have this dare challenge going on to make their boring life in the high-rent district more interesting, and Reynolds ends up on the west side of Chicago, picked up in a federal stakeout. Bast talks to Thward and tries to work out an easy way out for the kid. But Thward wants bigger fish than Reynolds and pushes for names. Bast can’t risk the kid talking and has him killed.”

  Stosh had been slowly turning his glass on the table. He took a drink. “What about Nadem’s kid?”

  “I’m not as sure of that. But his name must have been thrown in the pot at some point, probably by Reynolds.”

  “And how does Raymond fit into this?”

  The waiter arrived with the pizza.

  I took a bite of the veggie side. It didn’t taste as good as the other side looked. “At some point Mom wants to break off the affair and is overwhelmed with guilt. And she suspects Reynolds is involved in something with Bast. She tells Bast she is done and is going to say something about the affair and his relationship with Reynolds. He threatens her with harm to Raymond if she says anything. She gets Raymond out of town.”

  I watched him finish a piece of sausage and pepperoni.

  “Why would the mother implicate herself in an affair?”

  “Maybe she’s tired of it hanging over her head. Sometimes the threat is worse than reality. What better way to stop a threat but to make it public?”

  “And then she gets set up for the murder,” he said.

  “Lots of reasons for her to be afraid, which she definitely is. But deep inside she has some motherly instinct that protects her kid.”

  “And she hires you but doesn’t tell you about any of this… even denies knowing Bast.”

  I shrugged. “It ain’t perfect. If I’m right, all these things happened. Not sure about the timeline.”

  “Seems to me you should be unsure of more than that. It’s all conjecture.”

  I fell off the healthy wagon and picked up a pepperoni. “But pretty solid conjecture. The pieces all fit.”

  “You think Bast is in bed with the Prophets?”

  “Nope.”

  He looked surprised. “You seem sure of that.�
��

  I nodded and took a drink. He didn’t ask how I knew.

  “So, if you’re right, what do you do about it? Those of us in law enforcement like to have proof before we arrest people.”

  “Yeah, that’s the part I haven’t worked out yet.”

  “If Bast is into the drug trade on the side, there should be money somewhere,” he said.

  “I had Ben look into that. Nothing.”

  “We catch people because they’re dumber than rocks. But a cop knows the ropes. Dirty doesn’t mean stupid.”

  I caught the waiter’s eye and ordered more beers. “No. But there’s someone else in the department in on this. Someone planted the cocaine in my car. Maybe that person isn’t as smart.”

  He laughed. “You want me to look into the finances of a whole department?”

  “No. Just the day shift.”

  “Ah, well, that’s better. I thought you were being unreasonable.”

  “We chatted over the rest of the pizza and finished our beer. By the time we were done we had come up with a skeleton of a plan. If a mouse likes cheese, bring him more cheese.

  As I motioned for the check my pager vibrated.

  “Stosh, it’s Iverson.”

  “Go call, kid. I’ll take care of the check.”

  I grabbed my jacket and ran to the car. Iverson answered on the second ring.

  “I didn’t want to hear from you, Chief.”

  “No. They made a run at Billy.”

  My stomach turned, and I tried to keep the pizza down.

  “Tell me.”

  “He’s okay. About an hour ago, a guy walks up the porch steps of your aunt’s inn. No car. Young guy wearing a light jacket and a ball cap. He walks carefully and silently by my man napping on the porch. As he walks into the lobby he pulls out a gun. He stops dead in his tracks when he hears the shotgun cock.”

  “That’s always an attention getter.”

  “My man has him turn around and lay the gun on the floor, which he does. Then all hell breaks loose from the back of the inn.”

  “Two men. Jesus. We should have had two on watch.”

  Iverson laughed. That made me feel better.