by Rick Polad
I gave her a puzzled look. “I can’t. Perhaps he remembered where he was treated well last time and sat by the door, and the bandanna came loose.”
Her hand was shaking. “Or perhaps you hid him somewhere. This is your last chance. Where is my dog?”
“Does your dog have a name?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Simple question, but perhaps a bit sarcastic. My apologies. How about this? Do you know your dog’s name?”
Now her whole arm was shaking. “Are you insane? Of course I know my dog’s name. What does that have to do with anything?”
I shrugged. “You never use it. People who care about their pets actually call them by their names.”
“Well he’s not a pet. He’s a working dog.”
“Working at what?”
“What is the matter with you?” she yelled.
“Ah,” I replied. “Exactly what I was wondering about you. Working dogs have a reason for being with someone. What’s the reason with you? You seem to be pretty functional.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She shook her fist at me and said, “You’ll be sorry. I’ll be back. You’ll be real sorry!”
She stuffed the bandanna into her pocket and stomped out.
I turned to Carol with a smile. “That’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
Carol shook her head. “Whew. That’s one angry woman.”
“That’s what I was counting on.”
“What do you think she means by we’ll be sorry?”
“Oh, I think she thinks she has a wild card to play that I’m unaware of.”
“But you are aware?”
“I am if my plan works.”
“Are you going to fill me in?”
I stood up and turned to face her. “Again, it’s better—”
She held up her hand. “I know, I know. Better if I don’t know. But if I may ask, do you know where the dog is?”
“I do not.”
“Then I’m worried. He’s out in the cold somewhere, maybe even…”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know where he is, Carol, but I do know he’s okay.”
“How do you…?”
“I just do. Trust me?”
She nodded.
“Okay. If all goes according to plan, it’ll all work out. She’ll be back with her wild card.”
“When?”
“That I’m not sure of. Maybe today. Tomorrow for sure.”
“I don’t know that I want to handle her and her wild card by myself. She scares me.”
“I don’t want you to either. I have a lunch meeting. I’ll be back after that and stay until you leave. And I’ll be here tomorrow if need be.”
“What if she comes during your meeting?”
“Good point. When I leave, lock up and go home for lunch. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Okay. I hope your plan works.”
“Me too.”
I called Stosh and gave him a heads-up about what was going on and told him I might need some support from Chicago’s finest. He gave me a number to call, made some remark about taxpayers’ money, and hung up.
I gave the number to Carol and told her to keep it handy.
***
I met Mr. Chin as I came in the back door and handed him five twenties. He bowed several times. Joey was a generous client. My team was all there, and everyone had full plates. Rebecca was just sitting down as I walked in.
We chatted for a few minutes, and I gave everyone the update. When I asked if anyone had anything new to report, Rebecca was the only one who responded. She raised her hand and finished chewing.
“I got to the house on Belden at seven this morning. At a quarter to eight the woman came out with a little girl who appeared to be eight or nine. They walked to the corner, and the lady waited with her until a school bus came five minutes later.”
I asked if they were affectionate.
“If you mean hugs and kisses, no. But they did wave as the bus took off.”
“Interesting. So we have Mike visiting a house with an envelope that he hands to a lady and that same lady seeing a little girl off to school.” I finished an egg roll.
“Would you like me to stay on the house, Spencer?”
“Yes. Let’s see if that continues.”
As the temperature had climbed to the teens, I told everyone to continue their assignments, and we would meet again on Thursday. Morrie remarked that he’d probably be hungry before then. I told him Mr. Chin would be happy to take his money any time. He was certainly happy to take mine.
***
Moose was in the middle of a roast beef sandwich when I made my obligatory stop at the parlor. I wanted to ask him about the lady and the girl but decided a few more days might give me more information. Marty was eating at the counter. When Mike saw me, he just nodded to the door and I knocked. I had nothing new to report and realized the purpose of my visit was just to let Joey blow off some steam. But with Sam Giancana in the back of my head, I had decided that maybe his steam would hold some droplets I could use. Joey looked up at me, wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, and washed his last bite down with bourbon. Nothing as fancy as Maggio’s.
“I hope you got more than last time, Manning.”
“Things are still coming together, Joey.”
His look wasn’t anywhere near happy.
“What do you mean, coming together? That doesn’t sound like a five grand statement.”
I looked around the room. “It’s like arranging furniture. You got this place the way you like it, right?”
“Sure. Comfortable.”
I sat on Marty’s couch. “Exactly. It’s comfortable because everything fits, and everything’s in the right spot. But it maybe took a little rearranging to get it like that, right?”
He squinted and slowly shook his head. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? I’m payin’ you to find out who framed me, not decorate my damn office.”
“Same principle. I collect pieces and move them around until they make sense, until they’re comfortable.”
He took a big gulp of bourbon. “You’re giving me a headache. You got somethin’ or not?”
“I do.”
“Good. Who?”
“I can’t say yet… not until all the pieces fit.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m payin’ for you to say.”
“I’m reading a book about Chicago crimes. It says Giancana once said when they took care of a problem, seven out of ten times it turned out to be the wrong guy. I can’t work like that. I need to be sure before I give you a name.”
“Yeah, well, you’re being sure with my life here. You’re not the one spent time in jail.”
“I know. I’ll have something soon.” I hoped I would. “Speaking of Giancana, you were his driver, right?”
“So?”
“So, was it just a job or was he a friend?”
He shifted in his chair. “It was a job, but the guy was okay. I had no beef.”
I nodded. “That’s good. But it must have been a shock.”
“Yeah, a shock. What do you care about Momo?” He took another big drink.
“I don’t. Just interesting… you working for him. And then you go from driver to gambling boss. Seems you made out pretty good by Sam’s sudden demise.”
“His sudden what?”
“Death.”
“Why the hell don’t you just talk plain in the first place? And why are we talkin’ about me?”
“Just passing time, Joey. Like I said, it’s interesting. Then there’s the gun permit.”
He banged his fist on the table. A picture fell over. “I’m done talkin’ about the damned permit! You better stop passin’ time and start doin’ what I’m payin’ you to do, or else.”
I could have asked what he meant by that, but I wasn’t concerned. “Okay, Joey, I’ll have something soon.”
“You’d better. Send Marty in here
!”
I asked Marty to join us, sat back down, and waited for everyone to get comfortable.
“What are you still doing here, Manning?” Joey asked.
“I have one more question.”
Joey let out a big sigh. “I hope it’s better than your last one.”
“Oh, I think it is.” I looked at Marty and then back at Joey.
“I don’t have all day, Manning.”
I nodded. “How long you been using a woman for a bodyguard?”
“How did you—?” Marty said.
“Shut up, Marty!” Joey was fuming. I’d never seen Marty flustered, but he was now.
“But, Boss, he knows—”
“I said shut up. I used to think you were the smartest person I knew. Manning just pushed you over. He didn’t know nuthin’… he was guessing. But he knows now.” He turned back to me with fire in his eyes and took a drink. He put the glass down but didn’t let go of it. He was squeezing it hard… hard enough to break.
“I have one more question,” I said.
Joey said, “You’re out of questions, Manning.”
“I’ll ask anyway. You can pretend not to listen. I know what the connection is. She keeps beating a certain someone at target shooting. What I’m wondering is—who approached who?”
“What does that mean?”
I guess he had decided to listen.
“That means did she ask for a job, or was she offered one?”
“Who cares? What do you got against a woman bodyguard?”
“Not a thing. Anyone who wins contests is a candidate. But back to my question.”
Joey shifted in the chair and raised his arm toward Marty. “You hired her. You answer.”
“That’s a stupid question, Manning. She didn’t even know about the job. She didn’t even know what I did. I ran it by the boss and then I asked her.”
“What was her response?”
“What do you mean what was her response? She’s working here isn’t she?”
“Did she accept right away? Was she surprised?”
“What does it matter who asked what?” Marty asked.
“Oh, it matters—you figure it out.”
Marty was about to say something else when Joey butted in.
“Enough about a bodyguard, Manning. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just moving the furniture around, Joey.”
He rolled his eyes. “Great. For five Gs I get a decorator. You wanna know if she was surprised, you ask her.”
“I might.”
“Now you done? We got business.”
“Sure.”
As I started to get up, Joey said, “I got somethin’ botherin’ me, Manning. Sit down a minute. Marty, go get some ice cream.”
Marty left without any interest in what was bothering Joey.
“Manning, you’ve been following my people.”
That didn’t need an answer, so I didn’t give it one.
“How about Mike?”
“What about him?”
“I saw him one night leaving the mansion and walking down the block. You know where he went?”
“I’d have to check with my operative. Was he smoking?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then probably just went out for a smoke.”
“Maybe. But maybe not. You check and let me know.”
“Okay.” Given the mob’s record of going after the wrong man, I didn’t want to tell him what Chester had seen. But he was paying me. I’d have to find out what it was about. Asking Mike might be the best way to do that.
I stood and left without a friendly goodbye.
Chapter 23
I called Carol and made it to the office in fifteen minutes. All was quiet. She had nothing new. I sat at my desk and added notes about the Joey meeting to my file. Ten minutes later the quiet was interrupted by the doorbell and then shattered by the same angry voice.
“I’ll give you one more chance—what have you done with my dog?”
I picked up the file on my desk and hurried to Carol’s aid as she said, “I’ve already told you I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Do you deny that you had my dog last week?”
“Of course not. We took him in on a cold night after you mistreated him.”
The dog lady turned to the lady standing next to her. “See! They had my dog!”
I joined the fun as I put my hand on Carol’s shoulder. “Had being the key word. And you should be thanking us for saving him from freezing to death. Carol would you please make that phone call? Use my phone.”
The dog lady pulled the bandanna out of her pocket and waved it at me. “And how do you suppose this got next to your door?”
“I already explained that. I’m guessing your dog escaped again and came to where he was treated well, and the bandanna somehow came off.”
“So where is he? What have you done with him?”
With both palms turned up, I said, “I have no idea. I wish I did. I sure hope he’s okay.”
“The hell with you! You know darned well he’s okay.” She held out her hand to the lady standing next to her. The woman, trying her best to look threatening, but looking more scared, hadn’t as much as twitched since I had joined the party.
Looking like she was playing her trump card, Knox said, “This is Mrs. Schenk. She’s from the city, the permit section. You’ll be in big trouble if you don’t produce my dog, right now.”
“Mrs. Schenk? May I see some identification?” I didn’t care at all about her identification, but I did need to buy some time.
She fumbled in her purse and held out an ID card. I stepped closer and looked it over—City of Chicago, Permitting Section. Her picture made it official.
“And your purpose here is?”
Mrs. Schenk opened her mouth, but the dog lady didn’t let her get any words out.
“Her purpose is to arrest you if you don’t produce my dog.”
Now the words came out. “Now, Miss Knox, I told you I cannot—”
The dog lady started in again, but I cut her off. I opened the manila file folder, removed the permit, and held it out to Mrs. Schenk. “Mrs. Schenk, is this your signature?”
She came up close to it and with a scrunched up face said, “Well, it’s kind of hard to read in this light.”
I dropped the permit on the desk. “It’s not the light. It’s hard to read because it’s illegible.” Over her shoulder I saw a patrol car pull up and double park. “Is this how you sign all permits?”
“Well, no, I mean…”
Two officers came in and stood just inside the door. They had already been briefed.
The dog lady saw them and said, “Good. Now we’ll get some results.”
I silently agreed and wondered if she thought they had just magically appeared. I went back to Mrs. Schenk.
“Mrs. Schenk, did you know Miss Knox before she came in wanting a permit for a working dog?”
The dog lady interrupted. “What does that have to do with anything?”
I calmly replied, looking at Mrs. Schenk who every minute seemed more and more like she wanted to be somewhere else. “It would have to do with special favors.”
While Mrs. Schenk shrank into her coat, the dog lady became more belligerent. “For your information, the city runs on special favors. I—”
“Yes, that’s politics. But when favors become fraud the scenery changes a bit.”
“Fraud? Are you insane? It’s just a dog!”
Mrs. Schenk had all but disappeared.
“It’s a dog that is being abused. And there’s a list of people waiting for working dogs, people who actually need them.”
“Are you saying I don’t?”
I held out the permit again to Mrs. Schenk. “Mrs. Schenk, please read the reason for wanting a working dog.”
She just looked at me with eyes begging for mercy. She looked down and said, “It’s blank.”
“It’s blank. Exactly.” I
turned to the dog lady. “What is the reason you need a working dog?”
Looking like she was about to boil over, she said, “Come on, Louise. We’re leaving.” She grabbed Mrs. Schenk’s arm and pulled her toward the door.
One of the officers stepped forward and held up his hand. “I need to see identification for both of you, please.”
“What! I’m not showing you anything! These people stole my dog. You should be arresting them!”
“There’s two ways we can do this,” the officer responded. “We’re bringing you in for questioning on the matter of fraudulently obtaining a permit, and I need to see ID. If you want to do it the hard way, I’m arresting you for resisting a police officer. I don’t care one way or the other. Which will it be?”
Knox just stood with her mouth half open. Mrs. Schenk looked like she was going to cry. The dog lady opened her purse and took out her driver’s license as did Mrs. Schenk.
Five minutes later, the office was back to normal. Quiet had returned.
Carol stood and gave me a hug. “That was fun, Spencer!” But her grin quickly turned to worry. “I know you said…”
I smiled. “He’s okay, Carol. Ralph has him. We’ll have him back soon.”
She sat. “But what will happen to him? That… that… woman won’t get him back, will she?”
“I can guarantee that. When she’s done with this day she won’t want to even see a dog.”
She paused for a few seconds and shook her head. “So this was just a scam?”
“It was. And she would have gotten away with it if she had taken care of her dog.”
“So what will happen to him?”
I sat on the edge of her desk. “I don’t know. He’s a working dog, and somebody who needs him should have him. They’ll get him to the right person.”
She nodded. “I wish Billy could have him. He won’t quite understand the ‘right person’ thing.” She sighed. “But even if we could get him, we can’t have pets in the apartment. Such simple things can be so hard.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and agreed. As I stood I picked a dart out of the tray and threw it at the board. It stuck just outside the bull’s-eye. Better.
***
I had been wondering what to do about Mike. I needed some answers… for me as well as Joey. But getting him alone was difficult. I decided there was another way to skin that cat, and I’d try that first. As I was leaving to do that, the phone rang. Carol answered.
