Too Dark To Sleep

by Dianne Gallagher

  “Lunch. There’s lots of movement. Trays being hauled around, guys mopping up shit. No one’s paying attention. Everyone wants to just eat their fucking sandwich.”

  “You must do this a lot?”

  Bobby gave a jerky nod. “Need cooking supplies. Can’t lift them from the fucking stores anymore. Just sneak in, grab a jacket or shirt from the laundry and go shopping. Lots of open cabinets.” He usually didn’t go for hospitals like St. Andrew. Security was tight, but he was desperate.

  “So what happened?”

  Ballantine paused, still shaking. He took a long drag off the cigarette.

  “Bobby,” Quinn said firmly.

  “I got in, looked around. Someone was coming so I…” The man stopped.

  “You what? What did you do?”

  “I ducked in… you know. There. The fridge.”

  “Morgue?”

  He nodded. “It was just going to be for a few minutes, then someone came in. A doctor.”

  That was Maggie’s first guess. Limited traffic. Bodies move in and out so any evidence was tainted or lost. Ample supply of donor valves. “She was already there?”

  Bobby nodded.

  “Was she alive?”

  “Yeah, she was alive,” he replied, looking her in the eye.

  It was what Maggie needed to hear.

  “Did he strangle her before he started?”

  Ballantine licked his lips and nodded. “Then he cut her. Right down the middle. Just opened her up like… like it was nothing.”

  “Was she in a bag?” Maggie paused. “Like the other bodies.”

  Bobby was inhaling again, trying to get enough nicotine to feel just a little better. “Yeah.”

  The perfect place to hide a body. In a roomful of corpses. Maggie took a photo of Marcus Galen from her bag and pushed it across the table. “Is that him?”

  The man stared at it for several moments.

  “Come on. You got to do better than that if you want me to help you out. Is that him?”

  Bobby looked at the photo and his heart stopped. He didn’t know what to do.

  “Who’s going to make you a better deal, Bobby?” she said softly. “Chow or me? Who are you going to trust?”

  Bobby Ballantine knew better than to trust anyone. Unfortunately, he had to make a choice. “That’s him.”

  “And you’ll pick him out in a line-up.”

  He licked his lips as he focused on the picture.

  The door opened and Joe Zimmerman stepped in. He pointed to his watch. Time was up and Maggie still didn’t have the right answer. She leaned in. “I can make it stop, Bobby.”

  Bobby Ballantine froze. The sweat was gathering on his forehead.

  “I can make it stop right now,” Maggie whispered. “I can protect you.”

  Bobby looked at her, then picked up the photo of Galen and studied it. “Can I stay in solitary?” he said quietly from behind the photo. Bobby remembered what Chow had promised to do next. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

  She threw a look at Joe. The big man nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “you can stay in solitary. If you can pick him out.”

  Bobby lowered the photo. He looked old, Maggie thought. Even for a meth addict. Chow must’ve done a number. Well, Bobby Ballantine made his own bed.

  “Yeah, I’ll pick him out.”

  “And you’ll testify?”

  “Yeah,” Bobby said.

  “And when the cops come by in the next day or two, you’ll tell him that this man is the one you saw?” She pointed to the photo of Galen.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’ll forget this conversation.”

  The man looked at her. “What conversation.”

  Maggie nodded. “Joe here is going to let you make a call. You’re going to call this man. He’s a lawyer.” Maggie took out a pen and scribbled a name and number on Bobby’s palm. “He’ll be waiting to hear from you. Tell him you need to talk to the cops.”

  The man nodded.

  “And you never saw me,” Maggie added.

  Ballantine shook his head.

  “Because you know about commitment.”

  Bobby nodded. “Never met you before.”

  Maggie Quinn nodded. “He’s all yours, Joe.”

  “What’s left of him, you mean,” the guard said, shaking his head. He pulled the quivering man to his feet.

  “Thanks, Joe,” Maggie said quietly.

  “I’m not doing this again, Maggie. You know that.” The guard’s voice was stern. “I just did this ‘cause… well, I just did it as a favor.”

  “He needs protection from Chow.”

  Joe paused, nodded and the two men disappeared out the door. She felt her stomach suddenly rise in her mouth. Maggie hit the bathroom and made it to the stall just in time.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  It had to end now. That’s what he decided. She had been calling him for the past few days. Telling him to come home. Come home where he belonged. His mother needed to see him. Timothy Russo knew it was the right thing to do. His wife didn’t need him anymore. His mother did. She said she needed him to tell the truth, then everything would be all right. He would make it all right. Very soon.

  He opened the drive to his laptop and put in the disk. As he sat in his car outside the warehouse, Timothy Russo watched the screen as the woman’s chest was cracked open.

  Yes, he told himself. Everything would be all right. He would make sure.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  The restaurant was small and quaint. Home-style food or something remotely like it. Maggie was playing with the chicken soup she ordered while she waited for Dublowski. It was best if he didn’t come to the house anymore. Ten minutes late, Dublowski slid into the booth. Before he could open his mouth, a waitress was handing him a menu.

  “Nothing.” He handed the menu back.

  Maggie pushed the carrots down in the chicken broth. One by one they kept popping back up to the surface. Dublowski would have a witness who could pick out her man in a lineup. Marcus Galen was going to jail.

  “Who’s Chow?” the detective asked as suddenly.

  Maggie didn’t miss a beat. “I put him away a few years ago. He’s still pretty pissed about it.”

  “You hire him?”

  Maggie poked a carrot down and held it with her spoon beneath the surface.

  “To get Ballantine to talk,” the young detective persisted.

  “No.” It was the truth… in a way. She didn’t actually hire anyone. She released the carrot and let it bob to the surface.

  “Chow’s telling me you hired him to rough up Ballantine. Tells me he did it because you said you would help get him out of Stateville.”

  “I put him in, why would I make a deal to get him out?” Another reason to choose Chow. He was the least likely to help her and the most likely to lie about her.

  “I asked him that. He says you know he’s innocent.”

  “And you believe him?” Maggie asked. “Have you actually seen the guy?”

  “Yeah. I saw him.”

  Maggie nodded as she kept her eyes on the detective, trying to make him look away first. “And you still take his word over mine?”

  Nick couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to believe Chow. He wanted to believe Maggie.

  “So is there any proof that we’ve talked? Any phone records, visitor log? Am I on his contact list?” Her eyes stayed glued on the young man.

  “No.”

  He checked. That wasn’t good. Nick should just accept her word and toss Chow’s story aside, but he didn’t. Why? There was something else happening. Something Nick knew, but Maggie didn’t.

  “But you still believe him.” She
squashed the carrot piece into the bottom of the bowl. It wasn’t coming up again.

  “He used to work for dealers on the south side. Hired muscle,” Dublowski began. “He stayed pretty clean.”

  “He only took clean deals,” Maggie said. “Clean deals that paid well.”

  “But you managed to put him away.”

  Maggie squashed another carrot. “Chow’s killed more men than you’ve arrested. Liked to snap their necks. Leave his signature. He thought it was cute. No one would talk. They were too afraid. We weren’t going to catch him anytime soon.”

  “What happened?”

  “I pull in this guy, Coco Alvarez. There’s a dead girl on his turf and a good chance he had something to do with it. The guy’s a mess. Lung cancer and a blazing meth habit. He says Chow’s responsible for the killing. It didn’t add up. Too dirty. So we talk a little more and I find out Alvarez is pissed because Chow wouldn’t do a job for him. So he snaps this girl’s neck for a little payback. Make it look like Chow did it.”

  Nick stared at the table.

  “We made a deal,” Maggie said.

  “Alvarez died before the trial.”

  “You did your homework.” Maggie popped a piece of gum in her mouth. “We had his testimony. It was all on tape.”

  “Jesus,” Nick muttered as he shook his head.

  “Chow didn’t do this one,” Maggie said, “but he did a lot of others.”

  “And that makes it right?”

  “No. That makes it practical.”

  Nick sat in silence. “You set up Bobby Ballantine.”

  “You have a witness. It should be simple enough from here out. Pull Ballantine, get his statement, arrest Galen.”

  “You set him up.”

  “You have a witness.”

  “He’s dead.”

  The spoon fell from Maggie’s hand.

  “They found him in a closet in the infirmary. His neck was snapped. Sound familiar? I get a call from this lawyer. Says Bobby Ballantine lied. He’s ready to talk. I go down to get his testimony and he’s dead.”

  Maggie’s chest tightened. Chow, the bastard. Ballantine was dead. No witness. Nothing. And now Dublowski was doubting. And Galen was still walking around. It was all coming apart. Ballantine was dead. Their only witness. Dead. Without a word, Maggie stormed out of the restaurant and headed for her car. She turned the key as Dublowski got in next to her.

  “Get out,” she said.

  “You shouldn’t be driving. Not like this.”

  “If you want to keep your job, get out of my car.”

  An hour and a half later, Maggie was alone in a small metal room at Stateville. Chow was led in by a young guard she knew, but really didn’t care for. She paid him a hundred bucks for ten minutes with the prisoner. Who knows what the guard thought would happen. Maggie didn’t care. All she wanted was ten minutes alone with the man who fucked her.

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chow smiled.

  “You fucking asshole.”

  This was the Maggie Quinn Chow knew. The one he wanted to bring to her knees. “Poor Bobby was a real mess after you talked to him. Had to go to the infirmary.”

  “Where you found him.”

  “I was feeling a little under the weather.”

  “Deal’s off,” Maggie whispered.

  “I wasn’t after the deal.”

  Her muscles tightened. “He was the only witness.”

  “How’s it feel, Detective, to have your life dissected? Every minor and mortal sin.” Chow leaned back and smiled. “I was supposed to tell you that. In those words.”

  Galen.

  “And I always thought I was your biggest fan. Guess you got others.”

  “What is he giving you?” Maggie ground her teeth.

  “The pleasure of seeing you ripped apart.” Chow smiled.

  The big man didn’t see it coming. Neither did Maggie. The blow was too quick, sheer reflex. Her leg shot out and connected with the prisoner’s knee. The joint crunched as Chow slid off the chair.

  “Jesus…” he started as he rocked on the floor. A palm to the nose and he was down before he could get enough air to scream.

  Maggie heard the guard fumbling with the door. She delivered a sound blow to the Chow’s jaw as he lay on the floor. The man screeched as the bone snapped.

  “Now try laughing,” Maggie growled.

  The guard rushed in.

  “What the hell...”

  “Ran into a table,” she said, turning away from Chow who was rocking back and forth on the floor. Blood was pouring from his nose and his mouth.

  “Damn it. Shit, how the hell am I going to explain this?” the young man said as he leaned over his prisoner.

  “That’s your problem,” Maggie said and she was gone.

  She had better things to do. Let the idiotic guard explain why a prisoner was alone in a room with the woman who put him behind bars. Why he took her money. Let him explain the broken jaw and crushed kneecap. Chow wouldn’t be talking. He wouldn’t admit some crazy chick beat the shit out of him. Especially if the chick was Maggie. His buddies on the block would never let him forget it. More than likely, he’d pin it on the guard. That was fine. Let the greedy bastard lose his job. It didn’t matter. Only one thing mattered.

  There was a single message on her voice mail.

  “Weston’s dropping everything against Galen. The superintendent wants us to pursue other suspects.” Dublowski’s voice was strained. “He says your services will no longer be needed. The chief will call to notify you officially.”

  Maggie turned off the phone. She didn’t need to be told twice.

  Chapter Sixty

  Marcus Galen looked forward to his meeting at the hospital. He was to be completely exonerated and would receive a formal apology. The surgeon smiled. He was more than ready to see the board grovel at his feet. Especially that idiot Parish. It wouldn’t repair all the damage, but it was a start. First, he would be embraced by the hospital and his patients, then by Rebecca. As news spread, everyone who ever doubted him would feel absolutely awful and they, too, would welcome him back with kind words and tearful apologies. And Marcus Galen, being a forgiving man, would let them. It was going to be a good day. He was about to slide into the car when the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

  “Hello, Maggie.”

  She was standing in a dark corner of the garage. Her skin glistened with sweat as she stepped out into the sunlight. “Marcus.”

  “A lovely surprise,” he said. “But isn’t this a violation of the restraining order?”

  She smiled. “Call the police.”

  The doctor stepped toward her. “You’re not planning anything stupid are you, Maggie?”

  “No,” she said. “Nothing stupid. I just… Look, this isn’t easy. I think you’ll appreciate that.”

  Galen watched with savor as she squirmed there in front of him, unable to look him in the eye. The doctor’s pulse quickened as he stepped closer.

  “I wanted to apologize. For what happened.”

  “An apology. It’s rather… unexpected, although not completely unwelcome.”

  He was right next to her, so close he could feel her pulse. Alone with Maggie Quinn. His mind clicked off the endless possibilities. Rebecca was at a conference downtown and wouldn’t be back until late. That meant time.

  “Would you like to come in?” he asked. “I guarantee it’s much nicer than the garage.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I don’t want to make you late. You’re obviously on your way somewhere.”

  “Nothing important.” The meeting shuffled to the back of his mind. “Since we are… opening up to each other, I think you
should know that I am sorry for your loss. Truly sorry.”

  He could feel Quinn’s eyes exploring his face. Did he appear sincere? Of course, he did. He always did.

  “Thank you.”

  Quinn stood there. In the sun. Waiting. Waiting for him. Marcus felt moisture rising on the back of his neck. This could be perfect. Marcus smiled his most benevolent smile.

  “And I forgive you. Everything you did.” He couldn’t quite read the expression on Quinn’s face. Perhaps relief. Certainly attraction. Maggie Quinn had always been attracted to him.

  “Thank you,” she smiled, offering her hand.

  Marcus took it, felt the energy between them. The tension from the past weeks rose to an exquisite agony. Without thought, he pulled her close, felt her heart against his chest, felt the attraction.

  “Now you aren’t planning anything stupid, are you, Doctor?”

  “Never,” he breathed as he kissed her on the forehead. His left hand moved up to her neck. Marcus felt nothing but the heat of his own body as his grip tightened. He ground the woman into the wall of the garage as his lips moved down her throat and to the fluttering pulse of blood. He felt stronger, more powerful than he imagined. Without thought, Marcus’ hand tightened again as his mouth closed around Maggie Quinn’s ear, his teeth scraping against the cold metal earring in her lobe. He pushed harder, his other hand moving up to completely envelope her throat. His hands squeezing until he heard a gasp.

  Just a little more, he whispered to himself. A little more.

  Then Marcus Galen froze. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. His eyes snapped open. A calm, cold stare greeted him. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t fought. Hadn’t begged. Maggie Quinn just stood there, glaring at him. The surgeon’s hands dropped.

  “So is that how it goes, Marcus?” she said. “How you do it without any struggle.”

  The doctor couldn’t reply.

  “Answers a lot of questions.” Maggie smiled. “You better get going. You wouldn’t want to be late to your meeting with the hospital board. Miss all those apologies.”