The Sons of Jude

by Brandt Dodson

  CHAPTER 57

  Tony Delgado returned to the brownstone for a dinner meeting with Paulie Vincent. The discussion with Aaron Green had gone as expected, but it was clear the alderman wasn’t enthusiastic about the new plans.

  The evening had grown considerably warmer, despite the rain, but Vincent was sitting under a blanket in front of a raging fire. His pallor had worsened and his breathing was becoming increasingly labored. Delgado knew Vincent was dying and that his death would provide an opportunity to lead the business if he was persistent in his loyalty to the man who would choose his own successor.

  Delgado removed his leather coat and folded it, laying it neatly on the nearby sofa. He pulled a chair nearer the old man and placed a hand on his.

  “How are you feeling, sir?”

  Vincent nodded his answer. “We have a problem with Aaron.” As before, his words were punctuated with gasps for air.

  “Yes,” Delgado said. “He’ll go along with the plan, but he’s reluctant.”

  Vincent began to drool and dabbed at his lips with a folded tissue. “Yes. He needs to be on board.” He inhaled deeply, fighting for air. “Do you have a plan?”

  Delgado always had a plan. Although he was seen by several in the hierarchy as nothing more than hired muscle, his approach had always been one of brain over brawn. His ability to reason through a situation was legendary with most of his colleagues. Do what you’ve got to do if necessary, but opt for persuasion over force when possible.

  “I may have, sir.” He shifted on the chair, leaning forward so that Vincent would not have to strain to hear him. “Aaron is a proud man. He doesn’t like to be told what to do, but we can’t afford to ignore him.”

  Vincent nodded his agreement.

  “We need to give him a boost. Give him something he can fix so he can be appropriately lauded for doing it. He is a politician, after all, and there’s nothing they love more than praise.”

  A feeble grin enlivened Vincent’s face.

  “The plan I’m going to propose will serve two purposes. It will give Aaron a reason for continuing, while giving us the cover that will be critical in transitioning the business.”

  Vincent coughed and dabbed frothy blood from his lips.

  “Since detective Polanski’s arrest, the violence in the jurisdiction of the 31st has calmed down significantly. Many people saw the shooting of the young black man as racially motivated, and when Polanski testified that the two officers in question had planted a gun on the man to cover their tracks…” he spread his hands, “their suspicions were raised and their worst fears ignited. That has helped contain Peter Green to some extent, because the officers of the 31st and the 28th have been inordinately preoccupied. At the very least, it gave us time to run the interference that kept Aaron on board. Losing him would be quite costly and it would take several years to align another alderman with our efforts.” He paused, allowing Vincent time to catch up. When the frail old man nodded, Delgado continued.

  “Now, if the officers of the 28th had their own preoccupation to deal with, they would be less inclined to be concerned with our activities at the warehouse. My first thought was to hand them Peter and the club as a token, but also as a way of tying them up. Manipulating illegals into prostitution could have extensive repercussions that would reach well beyond the 28th district and into the federal government. Undoubtedly, it would also ignite a firestorm among a variety of civil rights groups.”

  Vincent shook his head, trying to avoid speaking in order to conserve his energy.

  “Yes, I know. Bringing the feds into this would eventually raise questions about the warehouse. I’ve thought of that. And it would inevitably bring some of our government contacts into the spotlight, and that would be helpful to no one. So I have devised another plan. A much simpler one that will give Aaron something to do, while diverting attention away from Peter and aiding us as well.”

  He leaned closer, putting both hands on the old man’s wrist. “I am suggesting we arrange for some of our union friends to begin a campaign of inflaming the passions in the 28th district. If we are successful in igniting the kind of unrest there that we had in the 31st, I think we can accomplish both objectives. It shouldn’t be too difficult. With the death of the DJ occurring in their jurisdiction, and with Polanski and his partner focused on harassing Peter Green, we could sway opinion toward a police cover-up of another kind.”

  He spread his hands again. “It may not work, sir. But it’s certainly do-able and I think it’s worth the effort. And unlike the rioting in the 31st, this would have little chance of spiraling down into simple looting. Our friends could see to that.”

  Vincent closed his eyes. The hiss of the oxygen machine punctuated his labored breathing. A moment later, he opened his eyes, his decision made.

  “Do it,” he said.

  CHAPTER 58

  Before heading into the office the next morning, Frank Campello drove to Rand Adams’ house. He had made a promise to his late partner that he would take care of the man’s family if anything ever happened, and Rand had made a similar promise, agreeing to look after Campello’s father. But there were other reasons for visiting Rand’s wife.

  He drove to the nearby western suburbs in the tan squad car and parked in front of the Adamses’ home. There were no children in place at the bus stop, meaning the kids were already in school, and that was a fortunate break for him.

  The house was small but well maintained, with a curving concrete sidewalk leading from the asphalt-covered driveway and lined on each side with blooming crocuses. A soft rain had fallen in the early morning hours and the lawn and foliage were laden with moisture.

  He rang the doorbell. Sharon answered and immediately hugged him.

  “What brings you around this early, Frank?” she asked, pulling him into the house and closing the door behind him.

  “Just checking on you, sweetheart.”

  “Well, aren’t you the nice one.” She gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. “I just put on some coffee.”

  The house was quiet and Rand’s influence could be seen. Cubs paraphernalia, including photos and a signed jersey, hung on the walls. Photos of Rand, Sharon and the kids sat on the end tables and atop the piano. It was the house of a once happy family. Rand was the only missing element.

  “The kids in school?” He sat on a stool at the breakfast counter and accepted a cup of coffee from her. True to Adams form, the coffee was in a Cubs cup.

  “They left a few minutes ago,” she said. “It’s awfully quiet around here without them.” She sat on a stool next to his with a similar cup of coffee.

  “Anyone else been by?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.

  She nodded. “Yes. Angelo Silvio came around yesterday. And Julio Lopez.”

  “Social call?”

  “Just like yours.” She smiled and patted his hand. “Hey, where are my manners? Would you like some breakfast?”

  He shook his head. “No, Sharon, I—”

  She was already off the stool and moving when he gently grabbed her by the wrist and steered her back to the seat.

  “You sure?” she asked. “It’s really no trouble. I’ve already got things out for the kids and—”

  “Sharon, did Rand ever talk about the office?”

  A confused look crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

  “Did he ever discuss anything with you? Cases we were working? Problems he might have been facing?”

  “Sure. Who doesn’t bring the job home from time to time?”

  “Anything specific?”

  She furrowed her brow. “What’re you getting at, Frank? What’s wrong?”

  “I think Rand may have been working on something that I didn’t know about.”

  Her frown deepened. “You think it may have had something to do with his death?”

  He shook his head and held up a hand. “No. I’m not suggesting anything like that. I’m just saying he may have been onto something, and
I wondered if he mentioned anything about it.”

  She cocked her head. “What’s up? Angie and Julio were asking me the same kind of questions yesterday.”

  He reached for the coffee. “They were?”

  “They wanted to know if he had mentioned anything to me that I thought was unusual. You know, different. They wanted to know if you’d been around lately and I told them you were here the other day.”

  He drank the coffee. It had grown cold. “And?”

  She shrugged. “I told them Rand had been a bit stressed before his death, but I shrugged it off then and I still do.”

  “Did Rand have a problem with Angie and Julio?”

  “You mean you didn’t know?” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion. “The last few months before he died, he couldn’t keep quiet about them. He said he felt like they were smothering him.” She refreshed her untouched coffee.

  Campello shifted on the stool. “Anything specific?”

  She shrugged again. “No. In fact, I asked him, ‘Rand, is there something they’re doing?’ and he wouldn’t tell me. But I knew something was wrong between them. He just couldn’t focus on anything else. I figured it was a personality conflict and let it go.”

  “Did Rand keep anything here at the house? Any files, documents, anything like that?”

  She paused to think before shaking her head. “No.”

  He rose off the stool and glanced around the dining-room. Then he went into the living-room and saw the computer and printer on a desk at the rear of the room. “Sharon, can I take a look?”

  “Sure.”

  He went to the desk and immediately sat and switched on the machine. After it booted up, he opened a folder and saw a file containing pictures of Rand, Sharon and the kids posing languidly on the beach.

  “Those were from last summer,” she said. “Surely you aren’t interested in our vacation photos.”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he continued to open folders and when he found nothing, he opened Rand’s documents. A long list of titles appeared on the screen and he scanned them. He was halfway down the list when he found it. It was the same dummy classification that was listed at the office, but the file on Adams’ personal computer was many times larger.

  “Can I copy this?”

  “Sure,” she said. “What is it?”

  “Answers, I hope.”

  CHAPTER 59

  Campello met with Christy and Polanski at Polanski’s house an hour after leaving Sharon’s. The morning continued to be warm, and they sat on the patio in the back yard. The lawn had thickened under the spring rains and flowers bloomed along the patio’s edge. A large maple tree stood in the yard, its branches reaching over them like protective arms.

  “Rand was onto something.” Campello unfolded the printout and laid it on the table. “He has listed some names here, including hoppity T’s. And it looks like he was meeting with Juanita, regularly.”

  “If he was on to something, it was exclusive of his regular duties,” Polanski said. “Otherwise, this would’ve come to light much earlier.”

  “I think it did,” Campello said. “The morning you started with the 28th I was looking through Rand’s old files. I was making a list of the cases I wanted to keep. I ran across a dummy file and wrote down the number. But then Lopez distracted me, and I forgot about it until now. That number has been deleted from the system, but showed up on his personal computer at home, and that’s where I found this.” he tapped the printout.

  “If this is so hush-hush,” Christy said, “why did he keep it at work?”

  “He didn’t,” Campello said. “At least not in its entirety. We’re trained to record the case numbers of the files we’re working so that our replacements can recreate them in the event of our death or a sudden departure from the department. That happened in this case. Rand’s case load was recorded as it should have been, so it’s possible he did this automatically, reflexively, without thinking. Of course, he could’ve had a file and it’s been compromised, or he may not have had time to complete it.”

  “If it’s been compromised, then someone at the 28th knows its contents. That gives them a leg up on us,” Polanski said.

  “I’m afraid someone there already has. Bobby Longhorse is dead and it wasn’t suicide. I called Barbara at the coroner’s office this morning. She just started the autopsy, but had enough to confirm Longhorse was murdered.”

  “But wasn’t it Juanita who set up Andy?” Jenny asked.

  “It looks that way, but our thinking is that it was under duress. Either way, she’s gone. Vanished.”

  “Why was Rand meeting with her?” Jenny asked.

  Campello shrugged.

  “If you can find her,” Christy said, “you may have the missing link.”

  “What can we do to help?” Polanski asked.

  Campello shook his head. “Nothing for the moment. You’re on suspension, remember?” He turned to face Jenny. “And I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “For doubting your husband. I’ve been entrenched in the CPD – the system – for so long, I’ve forgotten why I was there.”

  She shook her head. “A lot of men doubted Andy. You’re not the only one. But unfortunately for you, you may now find yourself on the receiving end of some very nasty attacks.”

  Polanski nodded his agreement. “You’re going out on a limb, Frank. You may find that the people you thought were friends really aren’t. You could lose the only family you’ve ever known.”

  “But you’ll have a new one,” Christy smiled.

  “You may be in a bit of trouble, too,” Campello said. “I may need you to do some stories on certain people as we go through this. Shake them up a little.”

  She shrugged. “I can do that.”

  “Your editor won’t get upset?”

  “Sure. He’ll make a scene, scream, things like that, but in the end he always goes with my instinct.”

  “OK. Then here’s what I need for the moment. I need you to do a story on Juanita Delaney. Dig up what you can and make sure she appears to be the center of our investigation into the ambush. Make clear that she’s the link, the femme fatale, whatever. She has to look good for it.”

  “Why? What’ll that do?” Jenny asked.

  “If she set Andy up, it’ll hang a target on her back and she’ll have to come in. If she was under duress, it’ll smoke out the people who used her and give us a lead while bringing her in. Either way, she’ll have no place to hide and she’ll have to contact us.”

  Polanski shook his head. “It’s a calculated risk, Frank. You’re endangering her life.”

  “I know. But right now, I don’t know who I can trust. Bringing her into the open is the only way I know of getting to the problem.” He crossed his legs. “And there’s something else.”

  “What?” Christy asked.

  “Gloria told me that Peter is always trying to live up to his father. That he can never find the old man’s approval. I need for you to go after him in the article. Portray him as the loser he is. He’s been arrested twice, after all. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “That could expose the paper to liability.”

  Campello nodded. “It could.”

  “So what do we do in the meantime?” Christy asked.

  “Nothing. For now, I’ll try to smoke out the traitors in the department. And I’m going to start by ringing some bells.”

  CHAPTER 60

  Aaron Green arrived at the Board of Trade office to meet with Tony Delgado at Delgado’s request. Such a request was never a good thing and nearly always spelled trouble of the political kind.

  Delgado was already behind the desk, a signal that he was in charge. He wore a black turtleneck over black jeans. His iconic leather jacket was draped over the sofa.

  “I helped myself to a drink, Aaron. I hope you don’t mind.” He raised the glass.

  “No, I don’t mind. In fact, I think I’ll have one myself.”
He slipped behind the bar and prepared a scotch and soda for himself. Once he had the drink in hand, he took a seat in one of the two chairs that stood in front of his desk. “To what do I owe this honor, Tony?” He fought valiantly to prevent sarcasm from seeping into his voice.

  “Mr. Vincent and I have made some necessary plans and we want to pay you the courtesy of keeping you informed.”

  “I see.” He sipped his drink. “You’re here to inform me.” This time, he allowed the sour note of sarcasm to slip through. If it was noticed by Delgado – and surely it was, for the enforcer was not as dumb as he looked – he ignored it.

  “There have been some changes, the result of new obstacles, and we are initiating efforts to contain them. As we have said before, we value our alliance with you.”

  Green ignored Delgado’s patronizing words.

  “We will need for you to hold back on your efforts to resolve the strike.”

  “What? Why?” He was truly dumbfounded.

  “It’s a bit delicate, Aaron, but with Polanski’s troubles, it is necessary to move the unrest to the area of the 28th. our union representatives assure us they can aid us in this, and we assured them that if they did, you could gain a better contract offer when the time came.”

  “I have a great offer for them now. They were happy with it, Tony, and we’re about to close the deal.”

  Delgado held up a hand. “We’re aware of that, Aaron. And we truly appreciate your efforts and can certainly sympathize with your situation. And it’s important to us that you understand your efforts in this instance will cost us also. But sometimes we all have to give a little with one hand in order to receive with the other. But I assure you, as soon as our needs are met, they will sign the new contract. Of course, it will need to be better than the current one.” He waved a hand back and forth. “Not huge, of course, but better.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Our reasons are our own. But they are necessary, I assure you.”

  “And how much larger does the package have to be?”

  Delgado shrugged. “Not much. But enough to make it clear to all involved that the union acted in good faith and their efforts in holding back on the contract were genuine. You will also need to be certain they are not cast in a bad light. It is critical the City be seen as the hold-out in this case.”