by Lisa G Riley
“We’d like that once we’re finished here, thanks,” Smith said with a smile. “Did you talk with Charles Landry the last time he was here?”
“Yes, but it was small talk. He told me he was in town on business, but he was determined to set some time aside for a trip to the Field Museum. He said he was interested in the exhibit on chocolate.”
“Anything else? Did he hang with his usual crowd when he was here that last time?”
“Yes, he did. I also saw him talking to Tam, but that wasn’t unusual. They’re both avid collectors.”
Lily frowned. “Of what?”
The other woman shrugged. “You name it, and they’ve probably both collected it -- stamps, vintage comic books, Civil War memorabilia, World War II memorabilia, European texts from the medieval period. I just chalk it all up to them both being obsessive over rare items. Tam hasn’t the money Mr. Landry has, so his collection isn’t nearly as extensive, of course.”
“Interesting,” Lily murmured as she wrote in her notebook. She looked up when she was finished. “At the club in Sheffield-Chatham the members have lockers. Is it the same here?”
“Yes.”
“Might we see Mr. Landry’s?”
Townes hesitated. “I want you to know that I don’t agree with this at all, but I spoke to Mrs. Landry and she said that I was to let you have access.”
They followed her out of the office, down the stairs and to the back of the building. “This is unlike any locker room I’ve ever seen,” Lily said as she looked around at the large room with its tapestry-covered walls, carpeted floors and wooden lockers polished to a high gleam.
Townes smiled and walked over to a row of lockers. “Yes, it is rather nice, isn’t it?” She chose a key from the key ring she carried and opened the locker.
Lily started to move forward, but Smith grabbed the tail of her coat and pulled so that she was walking precariously backwards. “Uh uh uh,” he said when she glared at him. “My turn.”
Eyes promising retribution, Lily simply inclined her head in acquiescence. She didn’t want to make a bigger scene than he already had.
“There’s nothing here but a map of the exhibits at the Field, a pool cue and case and a couple of cigars.”
“What kind of cigars?” Lily asked.
“Camacho Triple Maduro.”
“Oh, really? Well then that means he’s been here since last Friday.” She turned to Mrs. Townes. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him since the first part of the month?”
“Positive, but then I’m not always here. He could have come last weekend and I wouldn’t have known it. You could ask Tam.”
“Let’s do that,” Smith said.
But when they went to talk to Tam, he was gone. “It was after he came back from delivering your tray, Mrs. Townes,” the cook explained. “He grabbed his stuff and left. Didn’t say word one to me and was in a big hurry.”
“That’s odd,” Mrs. Townes said as they left the kitchen. “Tam has never missed a day of work or even been late in the fifteen years he’s worked here.”
Smith and Lily looked askance at each other and Smith shook his head quickly to warn her not to say anything. “Perhaps he’s ill,” he suggested.
Mrs. Townes continued to frown. “Even if he were, he’d have requested the time to take off. I’d better call him.”
Lily and Smith were both tense as they watched her make the call. After a few seconds, Mrs. Townes shook her head. “He’s not answering. Tam?” she said brightly into the phone. “It’s Mrs. Townes. It’s not like you to just leave and I’d like an explanation. Call me when you get this message, please.”
“May we have his phone number and his address?” Smith asked when she’d disconnected. “It’s vitally important that we talk to him,” he said hurriedly when she hesitated. “He might be able to tell us something that will help us find Mr. Landry.”
“Yes.” Lily moved in when she saw that Mrs. Townes was still undecided. “Mrs. Landry misses him terribly and just wants him home in time for Christmas.”
The other woman looked from one of them to the other and sighing, nodded. “All right, you win. I’ll have to go upstairs and get his address. In the meantime, you can talk to Mr. Anders while you wait. This way to the billiards room.”
James Anders was a short, bantam-like man with a balding head and wrinkled brown skin. He also seemed to have a lot of nervous energy. As he stood talking to them, he continually bounced on his toes. “Call me Jim,” he told them. “Everyone does.”
Smith smiled. “All right, Jim. What can you tell us about Charles Landry?”
“Charlie? Why Charlie’s the guy with the big ideas.”
“What do you mean?” Lily asked.
“I’m just saying that Charlie thinks differently than the rest of us, is all. Outside the box, as they say. Charlie’s always outside the box.”
“Can you give us an example?”
Jim nodded three times in rapid succession, his tiny head wobbly on his skinny neck. “Sure, sure. Ah, let’s see here,” he began and then let his voice fade before snapping his fingers. “I got it. You two remember the robbery at the MSI about ten years ago?”
“MSI?” Smith asked in confusion.
“The Museum of Science and Industry,” Jim said. “Do you? Remember the robbery, I mean?”
“Maryland Club Rye,” Lily said. When both men looked at her in confusion, she elaborated, “That’s the name of the leather bound book that was stolen.”
Jim smiled. “That’s right, young lady. It was taken from the Titanic exhibit they were having. Well, we were both right here when they reported the theft on the news. And right away, Charlie turns to me and he says, ‘The security guard did it.’ I ask him how he knows this and he says he just does. Good old Charlie even says he’d like to meet the kid and perhaps make a deal of some kind. I laughed and told him he was bananas, but he just stared at me like he was looking right through me and I knew he was serious.”
“Did he make contact with the security guard?”
“Nah.” Jim shook his head. “The police caught the guy before Charlie could get in touch with him. Charlie was disappointed, and he called the guard a schmuck. He says to me that museums all over the world probably have stuff in storage that they’d never miss because they don’t have the time or the staff to keep up with it. And that’s why the guard from MSI was such a schmuck ‘cause he should have just gone into the inventory and no one would have ever been the wiser. Then Charlie started talking about that greedy lady foolishness again and I tuned him out like I always did. Now that he’s missing, though, I wish I’d listened to every word he said like it would be his last. ”
Lily frowned as something clicked in the deep recesses of her mind, but she couldn’t quite grasp it before she was distracted by Mr. Anders. “Charlie’s a good guy. Just a regular guy, you know?” He said, his rheumy eyes showing sadness.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Anders -- Jim, I mean,” Lily said when she saw he was going to object. “We’re doing our best to find your friend. Were you here last Friday?”
“Nah. Unfortunately, the wife made me stay home. I had a slight cold and she didn’t want me taking any chances by going out. Says I’m too damned old to recover quickly enough to suit her because she’s too damned old and smart to want to take care of me night and day.”
Both Smith and Lily laughed. “Sounds like I would like your wife, Jim,” Smith said.
Jim grinned. “Just about everybody does.”
“One last question, if you don’t mind,” Smith said. “Do you know why Charlie’s brother Simeon didn’t want to hang with Charlie when he was with your crew?”
Anders smirked. “‘Crew’, huh? I like that. I take it you mean Terry Howell, Ash Montgomery and me?” Smith nodded and he continued, “That’s an easy one. Simeon doesn’t like us because none of us are from old money. Terry and I both came from modest backgrounds and made our fortunes, such as they are, in real estate. Ash came from
dirt poor beginnings, is the first person in his family to graduate from college and he made his money in banking. Add it all up, Mister, and in Simeon Landry’s mind, none of us are good enough to lick his or Charlie’s boots.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Obviously, Mr. Tam heard us talking about Charles Landry and flew the coop, don’t you think?” Lily asked as they hurried up the side street on which the club was located and back to busy Michigan Avenue where they were more likely to find a cab.
“Yeah,” Smith agreed. “Does the address she gave us sound like Tam lives in an area you’re familiar with?”
Lily shook her head. “Unfortunately, no, but that doesn’t mean much.” She squeezed his arm in excitement, her mind on something else. “I think we need to go to the Field Museum, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. We have that meeting with Naomi Pfister, Landry’s former mistress, remember?”
“Yes. It’s not for another two hours, though. Right around dinner time.” While Smith flagged down a taxi, Lily found herself looking wistfully across the street at the white marble edifice of Water Tower Place, the city’s most famous and popular mall. If only we had a couple of hours, she thought and sighed. Bet Armani has some great stuff.
“Don’t even think about it,” Smith muttered and practically tossed her into the taxi that had pulled up and was waiting. He climbed in after her and read Tam’s address off to the driver.
The driver frowned. “You sure about that, man? That’s Uptown -- the not so safe area of Uptown.”
On hearing that, Smith frowned himself, wishing there was some way he could get rid of Lily without her raising holy hell. He thought about it. There wasn’t. “Positive,” he told the driver.
The driver pulled out from the curb, drove around the corner and then shot onto Lake Shore Drive. There was very little traffic and the driver took advantage of that by driving like a bat out of hell. Smith looked out the window to see the sand covered with drifts of white snow and a churning gray Lake Michigan. The sky was ladened with sullen gray clouds. All in all, it’s depressing as shit, he thought.
“So, how do you want to handle Tam?” Lily asked.
Smith was still looking out the window and had watched the landscape go from majestic office buildings to even more majestic apartment buildings with doormen and now as they exited the Drive, he saw a mish mash of rundown buildings, cracked sidewalks and barren storefronts. “We’ll play it by ear, but just stay behind me. I don’t like the looks of things.”
“Looks fine to me,” Lily said.
And she was right. The landscape had changed again. Now they were driving down a street with modest, well-kept old homes and apartment buildings. “Excuse me, driver,” Smith called. “Is this area going through some kind of transition or something?”
“Yes it is. Very slowly.”
Smith got his meaning when he looked out the window and saw a block that looked pretty much like the first one he’d seen. It was unfortunate for them that at just that moment, the driver pulled over to park right in front of one of the seediest looking buildings on the block. “Thank you,” he said as he paid the driver.
They approached the twenty story building, being careful of the snow, ice and holes in the walkway. Smith pulled open the outer door and then followed Lily inside a small filthy vestibule that had several unclaimed newspapers wrapped in plastic.
Lily wrinkled her nose. “A little housekeeping is in order.”
There was a list of names next to buzzers, but there was no need to search for Tam because the inner door was propped open with a big rock. They went inside. Smith looked at the small piece of paper. “He’s in apartment 1204.”
Lily squinted suspiciously at a pair of elevators. One had an out of order sign and the other one appeared to be stuck on the twelfth floor, if the glaring red light illuminating the number was any indication. “Stairs?” she asked.
“Stairs.”
Smith led the way to a door hidden in the shadows and they reluctantly went inside. “At least the smell isn’t as prevalent here as it was in the lobby,” Lily muttered after they’d climbed the first set of stairs.
“I’m guessing it’s just a combination of scents from all the different foods people cook, that’s all,” Smith said as he rounded the corner heading to the third floor.
They grew quiet and remained that way for the next six floors. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Smith began.
Slightly out of breath, Lily looked up at him. “Yes?”
“I noticed a bruise on your back the other --” he paused on the stairwell, making Lily bump into him. “God, was that just yesterday? Anyway, I noticed a bruise right in the center of the small of your back. It’s fading now; it was a nice sickly yellow, but that’s an odd place for a bruise and I wondered how you’d gotten it.”
“Psycho Santa Claus,” Lily panted.
“What?” Smith turned to look at her.
“Psycho Santa Claus,” she repeated. “You heard me right the first time. There’s this rogue Santa that’s been harassing me,” she told him and proceeded to explain. By the time she finished, they were on the eleventh floor.
“You’re telling me that some guy dressed in a Santa suit has assaulted you?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“And you’re sure you don’t know the guy? Could it be an old boyfriend or something?”
Lily snorted as he opened the door and they finally emerged on the twelfth floor. “No. I’ve never dated a man old enough to be my father, thank you.”
“Maybe it’s just some guy off his meds, then. And since you haven’t been bothered by him in a week, he’s probably forgotten about you.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Okay, here we are,” he said once they were standing in front of Tam’s door. He raised his fist to knock just as the door was being pulled open. Tam stood there, suitcase in hand and fear and shock on his face. Before Smith could react, the other man was slamming the suitcase into his chest and turning to run back into the apartment. Smith pushed the suitcase to the floor and ran in after him.
“Come in and shut the door,” he yelled over his shoulder to Lily. “And stay. here.”
He heard Tam’s footsteps as they sounded deep into the apartment and he followed the heavy, hurried noises down a long hall. He heard quick, light footsteps behind him and turned his head just long enough to see Lily following behind him. “I’m going to kill her,” he promised.
He didn’t hear the sound of running footsteps ahead of him anymore and stopped, cocking his head to listen. He stood in front of a room with a closed door and he pressed his ear to it. He thought he heard faint scraping and cautiously began to turn the knob. He looked at Lily who was just a few steps away and he thrust out his arm out, palm up. She stopped. Stay back, he mouthed urgently. Eyes wide, she nodded and he slammed the door back against the wall.
The room was filled with stacks of old newspapers and magazines, some at least six feet tall. Tam was nowhere to be seen. Smith took a deep breath. With all of the stacks filling the room, there were plenty of places for the other man to hide, worrying Smith. He had no idea if Tam had a weapon or not. The room is freezing, he thought, brow furrowing. The rest of the apartment was at normal temperature.
“Of course,” he said in disgust when he noticed that the window was open, and right outside of it was a fire escape. “Great, just great.” A narrow path had been carved between the stacks and he followed it to the window. Of course Lily was right behind him. He poked his head out the window and looked down. Tam had already made it to at least the ninth floor. Smith quickly climbed out onto the fire escape. He didn’t bother to waste his breath telling Lily to stay behind.
The ancient metal fire escape felt precarious under his feet. He felt it move slightly as he put his full weight on it. It was rickety and slick and slippery from the snow and he stopped, arms thrust out to stea
dy himself and the fire escape. He began the climb down, going as quickly as circumstances allowed. He heard Lily clamber on as well and offered up a prayer that she’d be safe. After he’d gotten to the eighth floor, he heard a hard thump and the fire escape shook rather violently. Panicked, he looked up, but Lily was fine. She was slowly making her way between floors twelve and eleven. Smith looked down. Tam had fallen and was now trying to rise, but his feet kept sliding out from under him.
Glad for the small advantage, Smith increased his pace down the stairs a bit. Sudden heat exploded past his ear and then he heard metal violently drive into metal. He froze. “Gun! Lily, get down!” he yelled and looked to make sure she had before doing his best to take cover. Another bullet sounded and holding tight to the railing, Smith swung his body out so that he was hanging on the side of the fire escape and his body was partially blocked, making it more difficult for Tam to find a target.
“Jesus!” Lily yelled. “Smith!”
“I’m fine!” he shouted back. “Just stay down.” He was losing his grip and he released the rail with one hand, only to quickly bring it back for a more secure hold. He swung his legs again so that his feet landed on the windowsill of someone’s apartment. Bending his knees, he brought both hands to the railing closest to the sill, and pulled himself completely onto it.
Tam fired one last time, perhaps in warning because the bullet went wide, and then Smith heard him running down the fire escape again.
“Smith! Are you all right?” Lily called again and he looked up to see her panicked face.
“I’m still fine, sweetness,” he assured her. “Go back into Tam’s apartment. I’ll be right up.” Only a fool would chase a man with a gun who was willing to shoot it.
“Hey!” A voice sounded in the darkness. “Take that shit somewhere else -- idiot! I’ve called the police, so don’t be thinking you’re getting away with anything around here!”
