“Three, if you count my mother-in-law. Am I going to miss the funeral tomorrow?”
Phillips stood to signal it was time to leave. “How important is it to you that you go?”
Travis stood and put his suit jacket back on. “The only reason I would go is to make sure she was really dead.”
Agent Phillips turned to Nick, “I’m going to send an advance team to his townhouse and have another agent come here to help with transport. If you want to follow us, I’ll let my guys know to look out for you.”
Nick had promised Lacey he would meet Kamber before seven. That wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll tag along in case you need me.” Nick smiled, “Travis, you’re in good hands. Try to relax.”
“I’ll relax when I’m in the Bahamas.”
Agent Phillips chuckled, “You’re going to have to go farther away than that when this is done.”
Nick called Lacey and explained he would have to come over later tonight to meet Kamber. Lacey understood as usual. “Nick, I know you worry that you are disappointing me when you have to change our plans. I really understand. I love you.”
Nick’s heart swelled, “I love you, too.”
Nick walked into the homicide room to find Wayne, Sam and Jen all staring at the large white murder board. A long column on the left was titled ‘Ballistic ties to Baxter’. In the center under the title ‘Mob Ties’ was the name Lomas, circled, and under that Attorney James Baxter and Alexia Cummings. The right hand column was titled ‘Suspects’. Under the title ‘Suspects’ was written old man in film and Dom’s hit man.
Jen heard Nick come up behind her. She said, “As you can see, we haven’t made much progress.”
Nick pointed to ‘Dom’s hit man’ on the board and said, “Joey Lacastra out of New York is Dom’s new guy. He flew in today to hit Travis Cummings. We need to find out who he’s replacing.” Nick sat on the corner of Jen’s desk, “We should also put Travis Cummings up there as a ‘homicide potential’. Lacastra has been hired by Dom to hit Cummings and someone different tried this afternoon. This is all tied together somehow.”
Sam added Nick’s suggestion to the murder board and said, “We should have ballistics from this afternoon’s shooting fairly soon. Glad I’m not this Cummings guy. I’ve heard of Joey Lacastra. Gambino Golden Boy and nobody you want to be close to.”
Wayne waved a file in the air, “I’m chasing down Attorney Baxter’s phone calls around the dates of each hit. He makes a lot of calls to burner phones. We’re probably not going to get much from them. I’m also going to see if we can get video from the other hit scenes. Maybe I can find this old man.”
Nick looked at Jen. “Why don’t you call it a night and have dinner with John for a change? I’m going to back up Phillips at Cummings’ place and then head over to Lacey’s.”
Jen nodded and held up a stack of papers. “Give me one minute before you leave. This is what I have found out about the prison mental health situation in Illinois. You’re not going to like it.”
Nick looked at the stack of papers in Jen’s hand and smiled. “You can summarize all of that in one minute?”
Jen said, “Yes, I want you to know that I can’t locate Billow. The last information I found was that he had requested a release hearing. The doctor that filed the petition for release is a Dr. Elmhurst at Brookfield Place. I left a message for Dr. Elmhurst, he hasn’t called back. I didn’t realize that the burden of proof is on the prosecutor, not the medical expert, in a release hearing. The prosecutor has to prove Billow is not ready for release. If the prosecutor doesn’t act within 30 days of the request being filed, it’s automatically granted.”
Nick felt an instant flash of anger. “Thirty days? What prosecutor has time to review that kind of request that fast? Who makes these laws? Shouldn’t the shrink have to prove he’s not crazy? How long ago was the request? How much time is left?”
Jen leaned back in her chair. When Nick was upset, his questions came out like gunfire. “I’m guessing that the real purpose behind this new law is to move people out of the prison system and save money. That’s the law, 30 days. I called the prosecutor’s office to see who had been assigned the file. Nobody has responded yet. We have two days left.”
Wayne had been listening and shook his head. “Billow kills nine cops and walks away free in four years? He was sentenced to nine life terms. Some prison shrink appeals his conviction with an insanity defense.”
Sam offered, “How about Jared Loughner? He shot Arizona congresswoman Gabby Giffords in 2011 and has filed for a release. Some people say he will get it. The whole system is broken! Some nut is convicted of murder and sentenced to life and then the prison shrink declares them mentally ill. The mental health facility declares them cured to get rid of them and lets them go. The people that really need mental health care can’t get it because there are no beds.”
Nick sighed and grabbed his bike keys from his desk drawer. “I’m taking my bike, its better in traffic. You can have the unit car. If Lacastra shows up at Cummings’ place, maybe we can cross one name off the board.”
Sam added, “Too bad you can’t take a grenade.”
CHAPTER 14
Wednesday 7:00 p.m.
It was almost time for his big escape. The drugs were wearing off, his mind was clearing. Memories bombed his brain. Some were pleasant, many were horrific. Which ones were real?
* * *
Mitch held the door of the sandwich shop open for Kamber and Chad and then locked the door behind them making sure the shop sign was turned to ‘Closed’. Mitch was only 30 but their eager young faces made him feel old. He motioned them to follow him. He stopped abruptly at the door to the basement and turned around.
“If word got out about this entrance to the tunnel, the cops would come and make everyone leave. These people have nowhere to go. I trust you both because of Nick and Lacey. You have to promise to keep this secret.”
Kamber nodded. “We promise. Where is the entrance that the community people use?”
Mitch frowned, “I never asked, you shouldn’t either. You’ll understand more after you speak to Joseph.”
Kamber and Chad followed Mitch through the sandwich shop basement to a far corner where Mitch stopped in front of a large cabinet on wheels. He motioned to Chad, “Help me roll this over.” Chad and Mitch rolled the cabinet to the side exposing what looked like a large ship wheel made of brass.
Kamber’s heart began to pound. “Oh, my gosh! This is just like in the movies!”
Mitch smiled, “My buddy Eli is an engineer for the City and he said these tunnels housed the fresh water lines from Lake Michigan to service the city. Once the city vacated these for a new system, the tunnel maintenance doors were sealed off. Eli found an old map of this first tunnel system and last year we broke through the wall. This door leads into the main junction hall, it’s enormous!”
Chad said, “This has to be the coolest thing I have ever seen!”
Mitch laughed, “Wait ‘til you get on the other side. You won’t believe it! Remember, no cameras.”
Kamber and Chad promised. Chad went through the opening first and helped Kamber crawl through. Mitch stayed in the basement, but pointed to the left. “Walk over that way. When you see the steam vents, stop. Joseph will come out to talk to you. There’s a table and some chairs there. Be back here in exactly one hour! I’ve got a dart game I don’t want to miss!”
The room was cavernous and each sound they made echoed. Kamber turned her lantern on and held it high in front of her. Chad turned on a high powered spot light that he slowly passed over the ceiling, floors and far walls.
“Holy Moly! Can you believe this?” Chad stopped his light at what looked like a wall of fog.
Kamber pointed and said, “Those are the steam vents we’re supposed to walk to.”
Kamber instinctively grabbed Chad’s hand when a large figure of a man walked toward them from the steam cloud. Kamber’s throat made an involuntary moan and Chad’s gr
ip on her hand became crushing.
Joseph walked up to them and smiled. He gestured for them to take seats at the small table. “I understand you two young people have a documentary assignment and have chosen to focus on the plight of Chicago’s homeless population, specifically, this community.” Joseph’s voice was deep and soft. He articulated each word as if it had been laced with honey. Chad wished they could talk him into narrating their video.
Joseph didn’t wait for a comment. “I am a law professor at the University. I became acquainted with the community when I was seeking to help my brother. I guess you could say that these people have changed my life. I have been trying to do the same for them.”
Joseph continued, “This community has survived because of the carefully constructed rules we have put in place. I must insist that we come to an agreement before we proceed. At best, there will only be a few of the people who live here that may be willing to provide a filmed interview. The location of the community, even the mention of the tunnels, cannot be disclosed.”
Chad and Kamber both promised to abide by the rules.
Joseph leaned forward, “I feel guilty every night that I leave here to go to my home. It has been five years now since I first found the tunnel. In that time we have accomplished a great deal. Seventy five percent of the residents here have jobs. That would surprise most people. Each one of them now has a bank account using my home address. In the past, whatever money they had saved was stolen from them.”
“You’ll find that many have developed partnerships with each other. While one works, the other guards their belongings. It is hard to get a job if you are pushing a cart everywhere you go. Last year, 50 of our residents were able to save enough for a security deposit and a few months’ rent. Having a home address made it easier for them to find better jobs. They’re no longer homeless.”
Kamber asked, “I think it’s important that we really understand how they feel. I was hoping we could spend the night here one night.”
Joseph looked thoughtful and then answered, “This will be a human interest story. Let’s make sure that your listeners can relate to the suffering of the homeless at a personal level. Perhaps you can challenge your viewers to have just one ‘authentic’ homeless night. You should probably have this experience yourselves and report how it affected you.”
Kamber and Chad both reached for their notebooks and started taking notes.
Kamber asked, “Can you give us some suggestions on keeping our experience authentic?”
Joseph stood and began to pace. “There is no real way you will really understand the depth of despair of the homeless. You will know that your life will return to a secure place in just one day. They live with the fear that tomorrow will be even worse. For your documentary to make people understand, you must find a way to make people remember that.”
Joseph smiled and returned to his seat. “I am very hopeful that your efforts will be noticed and make a difference. Let’s list out some of the basic things you will need to do for your experiment. You two sleep with at least three layers of clothes and a heavy coat. No sleeping on a mattress, now. Open your window wide; it’s going to be cold tonight. Remember to wear mittens. You will still be warmer than the people in the community.”
“Let’s see, today is Wednesday, so from nine until midnight there is a portable shower van on the corner of Wilson and Tucker. There are only four of these vans for the entire city of Chicago. You’ll have to wait about an hour for your turn. If you get there early, the water might be warm. Go there for your ten minute shower. Walk home and find a place to dry your towels. They must get perfectly dry or they will mold. Some people wave them in the air and dance for about 30 minutes. That usually is enough time. The shower van won’t be back until Sunday.”
“You might share an orange or an apple for a snack. Fill your knapsacks with shampoo, soaps and extra clothes. That’s your pillow. Before you go to sleep, tape newspaper over your mirror. There are no mirrors here and most homeless only see themselves in window reflections. In the documentary, you might mention a distorted image for a distorted life.
“Get yourself a bucket to use as a toilet. In the morning, carry your bucket to a sewer drain and empty it. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a kind shop owner with an outside faucet. Clean you bucket well with soap, fill it up and bring it back to your space at home. You’ll need that bucket for brushing your teeth and washing up.”
Kamber and Chad listened carefully and took notes. Joseph smiled. “In the community we watch out for each other. Alcohol and drugs are prohibited. The homeless people that live ‘up top’ live in another world. They must carry weapons to protect themselves. Most people have seen the homeless sleeping in doorways and alleys. They assume that they are drunk or on drugs. Sometimes they are. What people don’t realize is that the homeless that live on the streets have to sleep in the daytime. At night, they must keep moving in the shadows to avoid becoming the prey.”
Joseph looked at his watch. “I can’t believe it has been an hour. Let me know how your experiment goes. You have the comfort of knowing that this is just an experiment. Try to imagine that you have lived like this for months, maybe years. Imagine that tomorrow will be more of the same, maybe worse. In the meantime, I will discuss your request with our residents. If you get a moment, Google ‘Homelessness in Utah’. I think you’ll be surprised.”
Joseph walked back to the wall of steam vapors, and Chad and Kamber slowly walked toward the entrance to the sandwich shop. Joseph had already touched them deeply.
Kamber looked at her watch. “Maybe Mitch will give us some towels, so we can go to the showers.”
Chad thought about the prospect of showering in a van at the corner of Wilson and Tucker Street. He guessed the temperature outdoors was about 40 degrees and falling. Chad could tell from the tone of Kamber’s voice that they were going.
Chad winced. He knew Kamber’s answer before he asked the question. “So, you want to start the experiment tonight?”
Kamber stopped and looked him in the eyes, “Please say you will. I want you to stay at Lacey’s place with me tonight. We can stop at your house first to get your three layers of clothes and your essentials.”
Chad rolled his eyes, “You mean my bucket?”
* * *
Joey Lacastra parked his rental car on the street adjacent to Cummings’ back yard. If he had to leave quickly, there was only one fence to jump. Joey shot out the corner street light and the camera for the bus stop. His silencer had made the popping of the shots barely audible. The corner was now enveloped in complete darkness. The bus runs were done for the day and traffic was practically nonexistent.
Joey walked through Cummings’ townhouse assessing the risks of shooting Cummings when he arrived home. A sliding glass door led to a small patio encased by a six foot privacy fence. Joey moved a wooden patio table to rest against the fence, just in case he needed to jump the fence in a hurry. A large window in the den was only four feet from the fence and sheltered by a tall shrub. Joey unlocked the den window.
In minutes he had removed the screen and placed it behind the desk. It was a cool night but not yet cold, so he decided to leave the window open. In his job a few seconds of time could save your life. He counted the steps from the den doorway to the corner of the kitchen island. From that corner he could clearly see the front door, the glass slider in the dining room and his escape was only fifteen steps behind him. This would be his spot. He glanced at his watch. It almost seemed too easy. If Cummings didn’t get home shortly, he would get him tomorrow.
Nick arrived in front of the townhouse before the FBI agents. He decided to circle the block. Nick slowed his Harley to a crawl as he approached the Cummings’ townhouse from the side street. If he were doing the hit he’d park here and shoot out the lights. Nick noticed the shattered remnants of the street light and camera. It looked fresh. Across the street was a sedan with rental plates. Nick walked toward the fence he knew was Cummings’. The
grass was damp from the evening dew and slightly bent from someone recently walking to the fence.
Nick raised himself over the fence. A screen was removed from what Nick knew was the den. He had carefully studied Cummings’s home while at the crime scene the night before.
Nick dialed Phillips, “Stop your guys from going in! He’s here.” Just then two bright flashes could be seen through the windows. Gunfire. More flashes. The crack of automatic weapons mixed with the ping of silenced bullets. Nick ran for the den window and jumped in.
Agent Phillips and Travis had just pulled in front of the townhouse and had seen the flashes just as Nick called. It was too late. His two agents had already entered the building. Agent Phillips yelled to Travis, “Get down! Don’t move. I’m getting you out of here.”
Travis had been in the back seat and rolled to the floor. He couldn’t see where they were going, he just heard the roar of the car’s engine as they sped away. Agent Phillips was on his phone ordering more back up and EMTs. Travis heard him curse.
Travis asked from the back, “Did Stryker get there yet?”
Phillips answered, “He’s in the middle of it.”
Nick could see one FBI agent on the floor bleeding from his neck. Nick quickly moved to the kitchen, where he caught a glimpse of a shadow moving to his right. Nick yelled, “Chicago PD, freeze!”
The shadow seemed to vaporize into the curtain of the sliding door. Nick glanced back to the agents. One of them waved him on. Nick ran through the door opening in time to see the shadow man leap over the fence toward the side street. Nick raced to close the gap. Bullets flashed past him as Joey desperately sought to gain advantage. Cummings’ elderly neighbor had stepped outside her back door in time to be grabbed by Joey. She screamed as Joey held her to his chest with his forearm and continued to fire at Nick.
Nick couldn’t fire without endangering the woman. He rolled quickly to the right to force Joey to turn. Nick saw a clear shot to Joey’s knee and fired. Joey screamed, pushed the woman to the ground and stumbled to regain his balance. Nick leaped and disarmed Joey as he wrestled him to the ground. Joey twisted to attack, but he was not skilled in close combat and was no match for Nick. Nick paralyzed him with a chop to his neck, rolled him over and cuffed him.
Twisted: Nick Stryker Series, Book Two The Shallow End Gals Page 11
