The Black Cage

by Jack Fredrickson

  ‘We’ll support him,’ she said.

  ‘If we’re around,’ he said. ‘How’s Donovan’s balloon?’

  ‘Still set to pop if he doesn’t get new money,’ she said. ‘Work Till, see if you can find out what Glet was up to.’

  The Dead House was dead. No press was bustling about.

  Feldott welcomed him right in. ‘The Winthrop County medical examiner determined Mr McGarry died of blunt force trauma to the head.’

  ‘So they said at the site,’ Rigg said. ‘Olsen called me as I was driving here. He’s going to announce it straight: death by shovel blade.’

  ‘The sheriff gave me the scenario you outlined about what could have triggered Sheriff Lehman to kill Mr McGarry. Will there ever be proof, even when Sheriff Olsen finds your Richie Fernandez?’

  ‘Even if Olsen finds Fernandez,’ Rigg said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Risky, for Lehman to leave Fernandez on McGarry’s estate.’

  ‘My God, you think he took him?’

  ‘Time, and a thaw, will tell,’ Rigg said.

  ‘What else do you know, Mr Rigg?’

  ‘Glet was no suicide. His bungalow needs to be thoroughly examined.’

  ‘You keep saying that.’

  ‘That scene seems so staged, for one thing.’

  ‘What else?’ Feldott asked.

  ‘Maybe the evidence that left there in your pocket.’

  ‘How do—?’

  ‘I saw a small evidence bag jammed in your coat.’

  Feldott’s face reddened. ‘I didn’t want it to get lost,’ he said, but his lower lip was trembling. He was lying.

  ‘Why would Lehman’s people lose it?’

  ‘Not now, Mr Rigg.’

  ‘What was it?’

  Feldott stood up. ‘Cut me some slack, Mr Rigg. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.’

  ‘Ready about what?’

  ‘I’ll see you at four o’clock,’ Feldott said.

  Rigg called the sheriff’s office before starting the car, doubting that Lehman would talk to him.

  He doubted right. Lehman’s secretary, a woman he’d pestered mercilessly during the shamble of the Stemec Henderson investigation, said that the sheriff was in meetings.

  ‘Don’t you want to know if I’d like to leave a message?’ Rigg asked.

  ‘Would you like to leave a message?’ the secretary asked, with the warmth of granite.

  ‘Just a request for comment on a rumor going around, really,’ he said. ‘If you could write it down exactly?’

  ‘Just go ahead.’

  ‘Ask Sheriff Lehman when he’s going to confess to killing Charles McGarry and Richie Fernandez.’

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  MEDICAL EXAMINER McGARRY DEAD.

  NINE OR TEN DEATHS RELATED?

  Milo Rigg, Chicago Examiner

  Cook County Medical Examiner Charles McGarry was found dead yesterday, buried on the grounds of his country estate, according to Winthrop County Sheriff James Olsen. The county’s medical examiner is conducting an autopsy and is expected to release his complete findings in the next several days, but all signs point to death by blunt force trauma to the head. Investigators from several Cook County agencies are eagerly awaiting Sheriff Olsen’s investigation, to see if McGarry’s death links to their investigations into other recent killings.

  Cook County Sheriff’s Deputy Jerome Glet was found dead in his Chicago home three days earlier. At the time of his death, Glet was working closely with the Chicago branch of the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives in its investigation of the activities of Kevin Wilcox, former manager of the Happy Times Stables of northwest Chicago. Wilcox is currently in federal custody, alleged to have been illegally selling firearms out of the stables. But, working on a lead developed by Deputy Glet, ATF personnel have found witnesses who place murdered Bobby Stemec, who was often accompanied by friends, at those same stables at the time Wilcox worked there. The three boys were found dead fifteen months ago, in a field two miles from the stables.

  Glet was also believed to be assisting in investigating the recent murders of Beatrice and Priscilla Graves, Jennifer Ann Day and Tana Damm. Leading those investigations has been Cook County Sheriff Joseph Lehman, who, after making an initial arrest of Klaus Lanz in the Graves case, was identified by eyewitnesses as arresting another suspect in the same case, Richie Fernandez, in the company of McGarry. Fernandez was never booked. Both Lehman and McGarry denied arresting Fernandez. Fernandez’s whereabouts are not known.

  Sheriff Olsen said today that he regards the suburban McGarry estate as an active crime scene and is hopeful of recovering more evidence there in the coming days.

  In another related development, it is expected that Acting Cook County Medical Examiner Cornelius Feldott will formally announce later this afternoon that he is launching his own series of investigations into the murders of the Stemec Henderson boys, the more recent killings of the Graves, Day and Damm girls, and perhaps the deaths of Deputy Glet and Medical Examiner McGarry. Feldott is strongly supported by members of the Citizens’ Investigation Bureau, an ad hoc group of influential Chicagoans formed to spur progress in investigating the killings of the past fifteen months. Feldott is expected to assemble a small team of independent investigators to assist him in his inquiries.

  ‘Whew!’ Aria Gamble said. ‘Still, it’s more straightforward than your scarlet pieces on Stemec Henderson used to be.’

  ‘I was enraged. I’m more meticulous now, like Feldott.’

  ‘You implied that both the sheriff and the dead medical examiner are crooked. Did you really ask Lehman if he killed McGarry and Fernandez?’

  ‘No. I asked his secretary to ask him that. And, you’ll note, that’s not in my piece. Sheriff Olsen’s got to prove that out in Winthrop County, but, first, he’s got to find Fernandez.’

  ‘You keep saying that. Surely Lehman reburied him on the grounds right after he killed McGarry.’

  ‘If it’s that simple.’

  ‘Surely you don’t think he took him?’

  He told her what he’d told Feldott. ‘Risky, leaving Fernandez where he was sure to be found if McGarry was discovered.’

  For a moment, she said nothing, then, ‘Nothing new on Glet’s fireworks?’

  ‘Feldott tossed me a tantalizer. He admitted to taking evidence from Glet’s bungalow, ostensibly to protect it.’

  ‘Something to do with that shadow of a visitor at Glet’s door?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say.’

  ‘Do you still think Glet’s visitor was the same person that hung around Carlotta’s after dropping off the last card?’

  ‘To take my picture? Sure.’

  ‘Think those pictures will ever show up?’ she asked.

  ‘They’ll show up when he thinks I’m getting too close. But, if Donovan’s balloon pops before that, it won’t matter.’

  ‘We’ll all be out of work,’ she said.

  Carlotta’s place was changed. The snow had been freshly shoveled from her driveway, her car brushed clean and a realtor’s For Sale sign was stuck in the middle of the front yard.

  Carlotta had changed, too. She was outside, bundled up in a black ski jacket, hauling cartons out for garbage pickup. For the first time since her boys were killed, she’d attempted something with her appearance. Her hair was brushed, though lopsided at one side, and her lipstick was smeared at the corners of her mouth, but she was trying to regain control. It was an encouraging start.

  ‘Milo,’ she said, as he got out.

  ‘Cleaning house?’

  ‘Getting rid of the past and accepting what little I’ll need in the future,’ she said.

  He nodded. He’d thought that way since Judith was killed.

  ‘I stopped by to see if you’ve been keeping up with the news,’ he said. ‘There are new investigations.’

  ‘Good leads?’

  ‘Too soon to tell,’ he said.

  She smiled too l
ittle of a smile and walked into the garage to get more of her past to take to the curb.

  He had the thought to call after her, to say getting rid of stuff wouldn’t cut any pain, but those sorts of things were only learned in solitude.

  A brand-new podium had been placed in the lobby of the Dead House. Corky Feldott strode up to it as confidently as a politician running unopposed for a tenth term.

  Greg Theodore of the Tribune came up to stand beside Rigg at the back of the room. ‘Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,’ he whispered. And they were. Two dozen reporters, including a full camera crew from WGN, Chicago’s premier local station, stood clustered in front of the podium.

  ‘I’ll be brief,’ Feldott began. ‘As Winthrop County Sheriff Olsen reported earlier today, Cook County Medical Examiner Charles McGarry was discovered dead yesterday on his Winthrop County estate. Sheriff Olsen is conducting a thorough examination, but he did announce that Mr McGarry died of blunt force trauma to the head sometime in the last several days and was buried behind his house. A more thorough report will be issued in the next few days. Now,’ he said, clearing his throat, ‘as to the future of our department here, I have assumed its direct management. I will use all the resources we have at our disposal to initiate comprehensive investigations into the murders of the Stemec Henderson boys, the Graves sisters, Jennifer Ann Day, Tana Damm and, of course, Mr McGarry.’

  ‘What about Glet?’ someone shouted from the back of the room. ‘Was he murdered, too?’

  ‘That case is also under investigation.’

  ‘Murder is what’s being said. Somebody came to Glet’s, right before he was killed.’

  Feldott shot an angry look at Rigg. Rigg shook his head. He hadn’t touted his thinking to anyone except Aria. But Glet’s vigilant neighbor would have shared her description of Glet’s visitor with any reporter she spotted stopping by.

  ‘We’ve not substantiated that anyone visited Deputy Glet,’ Feldott said.

  It was premature. Feldott was publicly giving the visitor theory the dust without checking it out thoroughly – unless whatever Feldott lifted from the bungalow was evidence against it.

  Theodore raised his hand. ‘Are you looking into the disappearance of the Graves suspect, Richie Fernandez, that Rigg, here, keeps harping about?’

  ‘We’re conducting a wide-ranging series of investigations,’ Feldott said.

  ‘How does Lehman feel about you going off on your own?’ another reporter asked.

  ‘I assume the sheriff is glad to have more eyes on these killings.’

  ‘Exactly how many eyes are you going to add?’ Theodore asked. ‘Your people are forensic, they evaluate. You have no investigators.’

  Feldott gave him a smile, but nothing else. He raised his arm in a half wave and said, ‘That’s it for now. I’ll be holding more briefings as new information comes in. Thank you for coming.’

  And, with that, the much-in-control acting medical examiner left the reporters to their cameras and notepads.

  Theodore turned to Rigg. ‘I haven’t gotten around to writing about you, Milo,’ he said.

  ‘Please tell me why I’ve been so blessed.’

  ‘For one, I like your hounding. These girl murders have gone cold and, despite what the boy wonder just announced, they seem destined to stay cold. Everybody except you – and perhaps, now, Feldott – seems to have moved on.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘You might not be around long enough to matter. LaSalle Street says Donovan’s other investors aren’t stepping up to bail him out on his balloon payment. They want bankruptcy and liquidation to recover what they can.’ Theodore patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

  Rigg went out to his car. He was done for the day and, if Theodore was right, about to be done for longer than that. Yet, driving back to his apartment, he felt oddly at peace. He thought of Corky Feldott, relentlessly ambitious, tilting his lance at Lehman, seizing control of cooling cases, taking over the fight. Maybe Aria was right: maybe the lad would bring real justice to Cook County. And maybe that meant it was time for Rigg to step back and watch things from the sidelines. He thought of grabbing a burger at a fast-food franchise and looking for a comedy on television; he wanted to let his mind blank from thinking about anything at all.

  Except that wasn’t quite true. He wanted to think of Aria Gamble.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  First thing the next morning, Rigg walked.

  He walked a full block in each direction from Glet’s bungalow, looking for security cameras that might have captured an image of his visitor. He saw none. He wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t that kind of neighborhood. The neighbors felt safe enough on their blocks or they didn’t figure they had anything worth stealing. He was just a hundred yards from getting back to his car when a dark sedan pulled up alongside him and the driver’s window powered down.

  ‘Looking for security cameras?’ Corky Feldott asked.

  Rigg nodded, stepping into the street.

  ‘I already checked, Mr Rigg. There aren’t any. Hop in.’

  Rigg went around to the passenger’s side. ‘So, what are you doing here, Cornelius?’

  ‘Hoping the sight of Glet’s house will incite clarity.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About everything, about anything. But first, how did I do yesterday afternoon?’

  ‘You projected confidence and control, probably just what the M.E.’s department needs at this moment.’ It came out as pabulum, but it was probably true.

  ‘I held back ninety percent of what I know or suspect,’ Feldott said. ‘I’m becoming a real pol.’

  ‘Have you heard from Lehman?’

  ‘Not a peep.’

  ‘He should be enraged at your encroachment on his turf.’

  ‘Then he should be getting angrier. I’ve gotten approval to hire two investigators. Regular investigators – former cops.’

  ‘The Citizens’ Investigation Bureau is funding?’

  ‘For six months, but that’s off the record. On another note, I talked to Sheriff Olsen this morning. Because McGarry’s estate is so vast, he’s going to wait for the snow to melt before looking for recently disturbed ground.’

  ‘I suppose that’s good,’ Rigg said.

  ‘Why so unenthusiastic? You still think Sheriff Lehman took Richie Fernandez away?’

  ‘It would be prudent to remove any evidence the corpse might provide,’ Rigg said.

  ‘Sheriff Olsen said the best he can do is hourly drive-bys.’

  ‘If I’m wrong, if Lehman reburied Fernandez on the estate, he can find him in the dark. As soon as any sheriff’s headlights go away, he can haul him out of there.’

  ‘I already thought of that,’ Feldott said. ‘The CIB has also approved my request to hire a private security firm. They’ll be driving by more frequently.’

  ‘It’s wise.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what else seems wise. I’m beginning to share your belief that Richie Fernandez is the key to Deputy Glet’s fireworks.’

  ‘You want to see if Glet was worried that Fernandez’s DNA was substituted for Bobby Stemec’s foreign DNA in your freezer.’

  ‘Yes. I think Deputy Glet saw Sheriff Lehman and Mr McGarry building a frame on Richie Fernandez, probably after they accidentally killed him,’ Feldott said.

  ‘Perhaps not accidentally,’ Rigg said.

  Feldott turned on the seat, startled. ‘They killed Fernandez on purpose?’

  ‘Lehman had no suspect for the girls and he saw the cases cooling, like Stemec Henderson. He must have been frantic, seeing himself being driven out of office by the likes of the CIB and you, Cornelius. And then he got tipped to Fernandez, living in a flophouse, a guy who was identified as being with the Graves girls by the owners of a diner. He enlisted McGarry to help in the arrest because he wanted to use his estate to sweat Fernandez with no interruptions. He must have realized almost right away Fernandez was no killer. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill him, maybe he did, but he
saw Fernandez would do just fine as a patsy, especially dead.’

  ‘And, around that time, you reported back to Deputy Glet that Sheriff Lehman and Mr McGarry had arrested, but not booked, Richie Fernandez,’ Feldott said. ‘It’s no wonder Deputy Glet snuck into our lab. He wanted to grab one of the Stemec Henderson samples for safekeeping before Mr McGarry could switch the foreign DNA.’

  ‘Not for safekeeping, because he knew he’d be destroying its chain of custody and therefore its admissibility in court. Glet wanted its reassurance. He wanted to be sure he had the right guy, Kevin Wilcox, under wraps at ATF. It was a desperate move.’

  ‘Sheriff Lehman didn’t know about Wilcox at that point?’ Feldott asked.

  ‘No, and Glet wasn’t yet ready to tell him. He wanted to know for sure that Wilcox did the boys.’

  ‘And, once he began to suspect what Lehman and McGarry were up to – arresting but not booking Fernandez, likely to use his DNA – he saw his fireworks. Pretty amazing.’

  ‘He must have foreseen Lehman saying he was about to book Fernandez when Fernandez escaped. Later, of course, Fernandez would be found long dead, well away from McGarry’s estate. But Fernandez’s DNA would be run against the Bobby Stemec foreign DNA sample, and there would be a match, thanks to McGarry. And that would tell the tale: the dead Fernandez had killed the boys. By implication, he’d be tagged for the girls as well.’

  ‘I can imagine Sheriff Lehman’s and Mr McGarry’s shock and fear at Deputy Glet’s first ATF presser when he announced he was confident Mr Wilcox killed the boys.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Rigg said. ‘Lehman and McGarry still controlled the situation. McGarry had to go through the motions of obtaining a swab from Wilcox and sending it out to be compared with Bobby Stemec’s sample. It was no worry, because he knew there would be no match to the doctored Bobby’s slide. Lehman and McGarry could still dismiss Wilcox and put the blame solidly on Richie Fernandez for the Stemec Henderson murders. And they could keep implying that he also did the girls.’

  ‘What if the Johnny Henderson sample that Glet took showed up?’