For someone else qualified for an office at Sturdy, the plaque on the door gave their name and their job title. Laura had dithered about this for some time, wondering if she should include all of her job titles—from CEO to President to Chairman of the Board—and then she decided on this.
I loved it. The sign itself implied—no, it stated—that Laura Hathaway was Sturdy Investments.
I grabbed the knob and pushed the door open.
Laura’s office was huge, with windows on three sides. She had taken the office that had once belonged to Marshall Cronk, who ran the company after her father died. Before that, her father sat in the center of this huge room.
Laura had moved the desk toward the window. She sat with her back to the Civic Center and the west side of Chicago. To her left, the windows provided a peek at the Chicago River, and the buildings going up in Daley’s mad dash to redesign Chicago’s downtown. To her right, she had a view of the roof of the building next door, and the decaying streets that led to the South Side.
She wasn’t looking at any of that. She wasn’t even looking at me.
She had pulled her long blond hair away from her face. She had woven her hair into some kind of braid and wrapped that like a bun against the back of her skull. Two strands of hair curled on either side of her face, dangling along with gold earrings. She wore more makeup than I liked, but then, she always did at work. She had colored her eyebrows black and put on heavy blue eye shadow, but left her lips pale. On her, the pale lipstick looked good.
Then, everything looked good on Laura.
After a moment, she looked up and gave me a tired smile. Not even the heavy makeup could completely hide the circles under her eyes.
“Smokey,” she said, and she sounded relieved. “Let’s sit at the table.”
A round oak table with four heavy oak chairs around it stood to the left of the door. The table wouldn’t have looked out of place in a fancy dining room, but I knew Laura used it for small meetings.
I grabbed a folded table runner from a drawer inside the large table. I had done this before, although it had been a long time. I put the greasy food on the fabric so that it wouldn’t stain the table.
Laura stood, and I blinked in surprise. She wore a black maxi skirt that covered a pair of black boots. A matching short-waisted jacket almost hid a gold and black blouse. The jacket and the skirt were striking, though: a band of diamond fabric pieces with different patterns circled the jacket and its sleeves, and then repeated on the skirt. As she got closer, I realized that the fabric pieces weren’t pieces at all, but elaborate embroidery.
The outfit looked professional, individual, and warm all at the same time.
“That’s new,” I said.
She rolled her eyes and pulled back a chair. “You don’t get to see my business attire very often. About six months ago, I decided I was tired of boxy men’s jackets and unattractive skirts. The clothes for professional women are a disgrace. If I had time, I’d fund a professional women’s fashion company.”
She said that last as if she would never have time again.
She sat down and pulled the bag toward her. “This smells good. I forgot to eat breakfast.”
Then she held up a manicured hand and grinned at me. “No lecture, Smokey.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. I had eaten breakfast almost seven hours ago. I was ravenous.
We opened the Styrofoam chicken container and ate directly from it. Silently, because we were both starving. I opened the large cup holding the collard greens and closed it again. They had looked iffy in the deli; they looked disgusting now.
The fried chicken, at least, was as good as I remembered.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Laura got us coffee from the coffee pot that steamed from one of the sideboards. She had prepped for lunch as well.
We had started on dessert when I told her about Lacey.
Laura listened attentively. Her eyes filled with tears when I described the hospital, but she wiped them away with an edge of a finger so that she wouldn’t smear her makeup.
“You should have called me,” she said, like I knew she would.
I shook my head. “Marvella helped.”
“I could have stayed with Jimmy.”
“I know,” I said. “But Marvella worked with the Grimshaws. She knows what they’ll have to do to take care of Lacey. I wanted her there from the start. It seemed only natural that she bring Jimmy home.”
“Why couldn’t you?” Laura asked.
“I had some things to take care of,” I said.
“More important than Jimmy?”
“At that moment,” I said, and something in my face must have seemed off.
She frowned. “What did you do?”
I had prepared for this question, thinking about it during the entire drive. If I told anyone about what I had done to Voss, it would be Laura. But if someone caught me, I would put her in legal jeopardy.
“I found out a few things,” I said, dodging the question as best I could while being as truthful as possible. “Apparently, Lacey isn’t the only girl this happened to.”
“From the school?” Laura sounded shocked.
“I don’t know that,” I said. “But I do know that the guy who hurt Lacey had groomed her for a while before the attack, and afterwards planned to put her to work.”
“Doing what—oh.” Laura blinked again, then stood up abruptly. That black outfit made her seem very wealthy and very powerful.
She walked toward her desk, stared out the window for a moment as she calmed herself, and then said, “It’s a prostitution ring? And that man was trying to recruit Lacey?”
“Yes,” I said. “Here’s the thing, Laura. Jimmy’s been telling me that for months, and I didn’t understand him. I thought he was just worrying because of his past. Instead, he saw exactly what was going on, kept trying to tell me, and when I didn’t listen, he took matters into his own hands.”
“It sounds like he came to you,” she said.
“When Lacey went into that hotel, yes,” I said. “If Jimmy hadn’t seen that—”
“He did. And even if he hadn’t, you would have found her.”
I grabbed the Styrofoam container and closed it. I couldn’t look at the food anymore.
“I appreciate your faith in me,” I said, “but I’m not sure I could have found her. These operations, Laura. Timing is everything. Once she left that hotel, she might have disappeared into a world I have no access to.”
Laura turned around. “You’re not here to tell me about Jimmy and Lacey.”
“Not entirely,” I said.
“What do you need?”
“Here’s what I’m hoping,” I said. “I’m hoping that Sturdy owns the building.”
“I certainly hope we do not.” She raised her chin slightly as she said that. She was a formidable woman, and had become more formidable in this last year.
“I do,” I said, “and here’s why. If you own it, Laura, you can shut it down. You can clear the entire building, turn it into something else, or tear it down.”
She took a deep breath, clearly calming herself again. Then she nodded. “What’s the address?”
I told her.
She leaned over and pressed the intercom on her desk. She asked Judith to check to see if Sturdy owned that property, and get that information to us before I left.
“I’ve updated the property lists since last fall,” Laura said after she finished with Judith. “We should have everything at our fingertips.”
I sighed and finished clearing the table. I put all the garbage back in the bag, and I’d throw it into the break room on my way out.
“While we’re waiting,” I said, “there’s yet one more reason that I wanted to talk with you.”
The frown creasing her forehead grew. “Okay.”
“Franklin would like to see you.”
“Franklin? Why?”
“I think he’s going to ask you to pay for Lacey’s tu
ition at a private school.”
“I’d be happy to do that,” she said. “In fact, I’d be happy to do it for all the Grimshaw children. You know I want to help Jimmy.”
“I know,” I said, and for once, I didn’t turn her down.
She raised her eyebrows as she realized I hadn’t said an automatic no.
“Let’s just stick with Lacey at the moment,” I said. “Franklin doesn’t think she should go back to that school.”
“I don’t think any child should be in that school,” Laura said fiercely. “You’ve had gang problems, and now this. And you know their education isn’t good. I don’t care about the after-school program. I know it’s trying, but it’s not the same as—”
“Laura,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. “One step at a time.”
A knock echoed. Then Judith peered in.
“It’s not one of ours,” she said to Laura. “And you have less than fifteen minutes.”
Then, without asking, she walked over and took the garbage bag from me. “I will force you to leave, Mr. Grimshaw,” she said softly.
“I know, Judith,” I said, letting my smile at her hide my disappointment.
“Now what?” Laura asked as the door closed.
“Now,” I said, “we go to step two.”
NINETEEN
“AND WHAT, pray tell, is step two?” Laura rested against her desk, her hands on the surface. She looked calm, but I could tell she wasn’t.
“I was wondering if you could get information for me,” I said. “Well, not you, exactly, but one of your employees.”
She looked at me expectantly. She didn’t ask for the details. She just waited.
“I was wondering if you could find out who owns the building,” I said.
“And then what will you do, Smokey?” she asked.
My heart rate rose. I was surprised, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been. I was about to break one of my many personal rules. I was going to attempt to use Laura’s fortune for one of my own goals.
“I was hoping you would offer them so much money for the property that they wouldn’t be able to say no.”
She smiled slowly. Her eyes actually twinkled. “You want me to help you with my money?”
I supposed I deserved this. We’d fought over her money so many times. Or rather, I had fought her over it.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“I would be happy to,” she said. “I love problems that you can throw money at and solve.”
“We’re not solving everything,” I said. “There’s Lacey’s future, and the girls who might be there, and—”
“We can move that thing away from the school, and that’s a start,” Laura said. “Even though you don’t believe me, I do listen to you. I know that you want to help as many of the kids as possible, that sending Jimmy and the Grimshaws to a private school doesn’t help the other students. I know that and I understand your hesitation. But this a solution that can help everyone.”
“Yes, it can,” I said.
She smiled. “This might be the high point of my day. Something I can actually do.”
The intercom buzzed. “Ms. Hathaway, I’m sorry, but you have five minutes before the professors arrive.”
“Lucky me,” Laura muttered, and then hit the intercom. “Thanks, Judith.”
“I’ll head out,” I said.
“Judith will call you at the end of the day with that information,” Laura said, as she rounded her desk. Behind her, the windows of the Civic Center seemed even darker than usual.
I wanted to lean over and kiss her but I knew that wasn’t appropriate. We had agreed that we wouldn’t have any public displays of affection at Sturdy.
“Smokey?” she said as she sat down. “Is it okay for me to see Lacey?”
Laura and Lacey really didn’t know each other.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll ask.”
“And one other thing,” Laura said. “The doctors tested her for venereal disease, right?”
“They’re giving her penicillin,” I said.
“Has anyone figured out how to handle it if she’s pregnant?”
My cheeks warmed. I hadn’t even thought of that. I doubted Franklin had, either. I didn’t know if Marvella or Althea had discussed it.
“I mean, it might make a difference about the school,” Laura said. “Some families send their daughters to one of those homes during a pregnancy.”
I noted that she didn’t even mention an abortion. But Marvella would. She knew the safe and legal places to get one, and I knew Laura did, too. Maybe she just thought it inappropriate for someone so young.
“I’ll let you know,” I said.
She nodded, her gaze still on mine. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “Me too.”
I let myself out of the office. Four white men looked up in surprise. Two wore suits, but two wore jackets and turtlenecks. The two turtleneck men had longish hair and beards.
The professors. They would be as impressed with Laura’s clothes as I had been, and wouldn’t find them unusual. I tipped a mental hat to Laura. She knew her business so much better than I ever would.
“Thanks, Judith,” I said, tapping the desk as I went by.
“No problem, sir,” she said firmly, probably for the benefit of the professors. I headed toward reception, and tried not to let a dark mood overtake me.
I had so wanted Sturdy to own the building that I hadn’t really explored the other options. Getting rid of the hotel had become more difficult, but not impossible. However, the way that real estate sales operated on the South Side, getting a quick sale might be impossible.
I decided not to worry about it yet. I would see what happened before I made any snap judgments.
The girl in reception started when she saw me come out of the back. Then she realized who I was and tried to smile. I smiled at her, nodded, and headed for the elevator.
Refraining from snap judgments would be hard no matter what I did. I didn’t want to think about a possible Lacey pregnancy, because all I would do was worry. We wouldn’t know if she was pregnant until she got a doctor’s test six weeks in. Six weeks would be just after Valentine’s Day, an eternity from now.
I wasn’t going to mention it to Franklin. I’d talk with Althea. She probably had already thought of it.
The elevator doors opened and Fenton grinned at me. “She like the chicken?”
It took me a minute to understand who “she” was and why Fenton leered ever so slightly. He thought Laura and I had shared more than a meal.
“She liked the break,” I said as I stepped inside.
“Don’t we all,” he said, moving the lever so that the elevator doors closed. “Don’t we all.”
TWENTY
WITH THE TRAFFIC in the Loop, I barely had time to make it back to the school a half an hour before classes let out. I hoped that would give me a chance to visit the principal. I didn’t want to make an appointment; I wanted this to look more impromptu than it was. I wanted to make sure of a few things. I wanted to make certain that Franklin hadn’t done anything rash. I also wanted to know if the principal was aware of what occurred at the hotel next door. And finally, I wanted to know what he planned to do about the problems, if anything.
I drove around the block once, just so that I could take a look at the Starlite in the middle of the day. The hotel looked unassuming, a rundown building that had once been a showplace.
The restaurant gave it all the veneer of dying old money, a swanky location that was swanky no longer.
No wonder I hadn’t really noticed it. It was designed to disappear in the daytime.
The school’s front door was just off the parking lot. At least twice a week, I walked the kids through the lot, up the long stairs, to those double blue doors, but I hadn’t been inside in more than a year.
I parked as close as I could get, got out, walked up the stairs, and pulled one door open, surprised that no one greeted me. I th
ought we had set up some kind of security system with the school after the gang incidents last year. If I remembered correctly, there should always have been a teacher or an assistant near the door, making sure that someone who did not belong could not get in.
I had liked the teacher security system, because, theoretically, they would know who had graduated or been expelled and no longer belonged. That was especially important since there was a junior high attached to this grade school, and some of the kids in the junior high—the boys especially—looked particularly grown-up.
That thought made me wince. Lacey had been going to the junior high, not the grade school, and she also had looked particularly grown-up.
I went through the second set of doors, which had not been placed there for protection from outsiders but for protection against the shocking deep cold of winter. The doors blocked the frigid air from getting into the hallway. There were no heaters until a few yards inside that wide hallway, so that the school saved some money on its power bills.
The school had to save money wherever it could. It had half the operating budget it needed. The principal had allocated most of the money toward teachers, which I appreciated, but that meant the inside of the school looked more like a derelict building than a place to study.
I couldn’t remember if it had looked this bad when I first enrolled Jimmy here nearly two years ago. Both he and I had been suffering from culture shock then. We had come to Chicago to escape Memphis, and this city was frighteningly different. Everything looked odd, or rundown, or dirty because we had come in April, when there was slush everywhere and the remains of the Westside fires after the riots sparked by Martin’s assassination.
I had noticed the condition of the school last year, when we dealt with the gangs, but I didn’t remember it being this bad. Locker doors hung off their hinges; some doors were even missing. Boards crossed others, and as I stepped inside, I shivered, realizing that the expected heat was not on at all.
No wonder Jimmy had been so happy to get sweaters for Christmas. The fury that had dissipated somewhat since last night rose again. And again, it was at myself. I was neglecting the kid I had sworn to protect, and for what reason? Stubbornness? Money? Pride?
Street Justice: A Smokey Dalton Novel Page 11
