Change of Address

by Rick Polad

  “So we’ve got the day off?”

  “Yes Ma’am. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Can I call the track and tell them I am going to miss the workout?”

  “Sure. Make it short.”

  “What should I tell them?”

  “Just tell them something came up and you might be gone a couple of days.”

  Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms out in front of her and then folded them across her chest. With a furrowed brow, she asked “Do you really think it could be days? I need someone to take care of the horses.”

  I tried to sound unconcerned. “Is that such a terrible fate?”

  She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “No, if it were planned. But somehow this lacks the carefree vacation atmosphere.”

  I nodded. “Guess so. But no, I don’t think it will be long. Stosh is just being careful. He needs some time to get a handle on this. Once he talks to Bobby he can move on these other idiots.”

  She nodded but didn’t seem all that convinced.

  “You tired?” I asked.

  “I could probably use a nap. How about you?”

  “Yeah, me too. Think I’ll finish reading the paper.”

  She snuggled down into a pillow against the arm of the couch and closed her eyes. As I glanced at the standings, my eyes started to close. I gave up, arranged the pillows on the opposite end of the couch from Kelly, and joined her. The phone ringing woke me up at 1:00 p.m. I ran to the kitchen and answered on what I think was the sixth ring.

  “Hi kid. Not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “Yeah, sleep.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “You call for anything important or just to annoy me?”

  “Couple of things. We have Bobby in the station. He doesn’t know a lot but gave us enough to look at Ronny a little harder. We picked up clothes for you and Kelly. I’ll have an officer drop them by—someone you know.”

  “Thanks, I could use a change.”

  “And you’ve got another appointment with the mayor tonight. Around eight.”

  I was surprised. “I thought we were leaving that alone for a bit.”

  “I did too. But the chief thinks he should know about the checks.”

  “You involved?”

  “Not yet. Still personal. If he wants us to look into anything where Ronny is concerned he can let us know. But if it is still personal, it’s between him and you.”

  I thought for a second. “How did he sound?”

  “A little fed up at first. I told him you had found something that he should know about. He still sounded like I was bothering him. But when I told him about the picture and the checks he was quiet for a good ten seconds and then quietly agreed to see you. I think you will find a little less hostile atmosphere.”

  “Did you tell him where I found them?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Are we still quarantined?”

  “Yeah, but don’t act like it’s hard on you. Any guy would pay hard money to switch places.”

  “Yes they would. I guess what I’m asking is, after talking to Bobby, you still think we should lay low.”

  “It would be nice if Bobby gave us enough to run out and arrest the gang, but he hardly knows his name.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “If he did know something he’d probably spill it. He’s scared to death of going to jail because of the accident. I told him we’re after the guys who put him up to it and asked him to try and remember anything about the track or Ronny. I’ll have a few more talks with him. And luckily for you he confirms going off with Johnny of his own accord. Strictly his own decision.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

  “You should have been. Hey!” he yelled away from the phone. “I told you I wanted that report yesterday. Get your ass in gear. You got ten minutes. Sorry, Spencer.”

  I readjusted the phone on my ear after having dropped it when he’d yelled. “So will you be home for dinner?”

  “Yeah, about six.”

  “Kelly wants to cook. Mind if I run out for some food?”

  “Yeah. Stay put. I’ll get some steaks.”

  “Come on, Stosh. You’re overreacting. These are two-bit punks.”

  “They’re two-bit punks who trashed your office and Kelly’s room and don’t mind running people off the road, if you’ve forgotten about that. Stay put. I’ll get you an escort to the mayor’s tonight. Rosie okay?”

  “Rosie is more than okay. You were going to leave out that little detail about the trashing?”

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “I’m a big boy, Stosh.”

  “Big boys need help too, Spencer.”

  “Did they break the locks?”

  “Nope, picked them nice and clean. And locked up behind themselves. Now don’t get any ideas. Get some rest and figure out how you want to deal with tonight.”

  “Will do. I’ll see you. Hey, Stosh, how many kids does the mayor have?”

  “The mayor? He doesn’t have any. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious, thanks.”

  We hung up. Kelly was glancing through the paper when I got back to the couch.

  The expression on her face asked the question. I filled her in, telling her about my office but not her room.

  “This is sounding serious, Spencer.” She was a tough cookie but there was a tremble in her voice.

  “I guess it is, Kelly. But you’re safe here. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m worried about you too. You’re staying here with me aren’t you?”

  I sat down on the table in front of her and took her hands. “Sure. I’m going out tonight but Stosh will be here.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense. What do they think I know?”

  “It’s not what they think you know, it’s what they think I know. They’re after you to get to me. I won’t let them have you.”

  “Do you know something?”

  I shook my head. “Not a thing. Stosh may have learned something from Bobby. If he did, he’s not talking. And if there is something going on at the track it’s not my problem.” I picked up the remote and turned on channel nine to catch the Cubs pre-game show.

  “What about the little girl?”

  “That’s my problem. I’m making some progress. I’m having a chat tonight with someone who may be involved.”

  Again her expression asked the question.

  “Don’t worry. I will have an escort. One of Chicago’s finest.”

  “Okay.” She smiled and touched my arm. “Spence, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your folks. I can’t imagine losing mine.”

  “Thanks. Sometimes life’s no fun—especially the dreams.”

  “I know you want to get whoever is responsible. But these are not nice people. Please be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Now let’s take the afternoon off and watch the ballgame. We can make a few bets if you’d like.” One eyebrow raised and a little smile curled up her mouth.

  I pulled away and said, “Unless it’s for cold, hard cash, I think I’m done betting with you. No offense.”

  She laughed. “Well then how about if I see what Stosh has in the fridge and see if I can scare up some sandwiches?”

  “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go see.” I got up, took her hand, and pulled her up to me. After a long kiss, I said “I’m sorry I got you into this, Kelly.”

  She rested her head on my chest. “I’ll be okay. I don’t think Stosh will let anything happen to either one of us. If I can help, let me know.”

  I felt a little hurt that she was looking to Stosh for protection instead of me, but that was probably the smart thing to do. “Okay. Let’s go eat.”

  On the way to the kitchen the doorbell rang. I headed for the front door and peeked out the window. It was Rosie with a suitcase. I invited her in for lunch. She said she was running but would be back at six and would want to know why a nice guy like me was mixed up
with hoodlums. She also asked if I had a gun. I told her I didn’t think I needed one. She gave me a look and waved as she walked back to the unmarked car.

  The afternoon sun had filled the kitchen with a bright light. It had been much darker at breakfast. It was readily apparent that Stosh was not big on cooking. The fridge was about empty. The crisper was empty. The meat drawer had one unopened, pre-wrapped package of assorted meats. The bottom shelf held twelve cans of Old Milwaukee. The top shelf had what was left of the milk and orange juice from breakfast. One egg was in the side tray along with a small jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of ketchup. I closed the fridge and pulled open the freezer. It was full—of jelly-filled donuts. Wish I would have known that at breakfast.

  Kelly shook her head. “Men.” She had found rolls and paper plates and napkins. “You go back and watch the game. I’ll make lunch.” She gave me a hug and pushed me out of the room. Five minutes later she joined me and set two plates on the table. One more trip brought two beers.

  “Thank you ma’am. I’ll have to give you a good tip.”

  “If I can drag you away from this game, I’ll take you up on that.”

  “You may not have to drag too hard.”

  We ate and watched. In the third the Cubs were losing eight to two. Tip time.

  Stosh called around five to say he’d be late. Rosie would get me at six and I could eat with her. He’d bring steaks for him and Kelly.

  Chapter 30

  Rosie and I stopped for dinner and then headed south on Lake Shore Drive. The windows were open and the pungent smell of alewives wafted through the car. She asked if I could tell her what was going on. I had already decided I couldn’t. Trying to keep the mayor anonymous was kind of like a puzzle. You could know one piece of the puzzle but not the other. Kelly knew I was looking for Marty’s father. So I couldn’t tell her I was going to see the mayor. Rosie knew I was going to see the mayor so she couldn’t know the story. Not hard to put two and two together.

  We laughed and chatted about old times. To our right, the sun was setting through banks of layered clouds, leaving behind a trail of pastel colors as it sank towards the horizon. Before I knew it, Rosie was parallel parking in front of the mayor’s house.

  I got out and leaned back in the window. “Thanks for the ride. You waiting?”

  “Yup.”

  “It shouldn’t be too long.”

  “No hurry. But I’d hurry if I were you.”

  I was confused. “Why?”

  “Because Stosh is back on his home turf with your girlfriend.”

  “Aah. Somehow I don’t think I have anything to worry about, but thanks for your concern. See ya.”

  As before, the mayor made me look like a slob. I knew the way. I glanced in the same rooms. The toy room looked the same. None of those toys had been played with.

  I sat in the same chair. This time I asked for a beer. He took one out of a small fridge built into the wall and mixed himself a drink. He handed me a bottle of Heineken’s and a fluted glass and set a napkin on the glass table. The room was much darker than it had been the last night. The sun was peeking in and out of the clouds.

  “Mrs. Grey is not at home?” I asked.

  “No, Mrs. Grey is up at our home in Wisconsin. It’s been in her family for years. She enjoys the peacefulness. Actually we both do but it’s a bit harder for me to get away.” He smiled. So did I. “I understand you found something and have some questions concerning our last discussion.” He sat opposite from me, legs crossed casually.

  I knew that Stosh had told him about the picture and the checks. I hadn’t said anything to Stosh but I wished he hadn’t told the mayor what it was I’d found. That had given the mayor plenty of time to come up with a story. I wondered how much truth I would get.

  “Well, it’s not something I have, it’s something I saw,” I said as I poured the beer. Perfect. The head just started to flow over the edge of the glass.

  “And that is?”

  “That is a picture of Marty, Elizabeth’s daughter and canceled checks made out to Elizabeth signed by you.” I watched. There was no surprise, but, of course there wouldn’t be, he already knew that.

  “And what are you assuming from that?”

  Not quite as friendly an atmosphere as Stosh had expected. “I’m not assuming anything. But I am wondering why you would be writing Elizabeth checks and hoped maybe you could explain.”

  “Where did you find these checks?” he asked in an icy tone. I guess he didn’t feel like explaining.

  We looked each other in the eye for a good ten seconds. “I’d rather not say,” I answered.

  He finished off his drink. “Then I’d rather not explain.”

  I had thought that would be a stumbling block. And I couldn’t blame him. I would have reacted the same way.

  “How about this,” I offered. “I tell you who has them, but not how I saw them.” This was getting too much like Let’s Make a Deal.

  He thought for a minute and then agreed. I took a long drink of beer.

  “They are in the possession of Ronny Press, who, as I understand it, is your half brother.” Then I realized that was not public information and that he knew exactly who was supposed to be privy to it. I hoped he would let it pass. He didn’t.

  “That is not public information, Mr. Manning. May I ask how you found out?”

  “I didn’t find out, I figured it out. I got some information from one source and some from another and put two and two together. This time it came up four.” That was a lie. Stosh had first told me but I could have figured it out later from the information I’d gotten from Maxine. So I figured it wasn’t really a lie.

  “Was one of your sources the police department?”

  “No, it wasn’t.” At least not in the Maxine scenario.

  While we were staring each other down again the phone rang. He answered it at his desk. I was glad for the distraction. I felt like a lion fighting for territory. We were doing a slow dance around each other trying to figure out what we could believe and where the trust level was. It was draining. I relaxed back in the chair, finished my beer and eavesdropped. He didn’t make any attempt to be private.

  “...yes, dear, that would be fine. No, but I don’t have time to go into it now, I’m in the middle of a meeting... no dear, it isn’t... yes, it is business, I’m a busy man. I can’t get everything done during the day. Yes I will try and come up for the weekend. Goodnight.”

  By the “dear” I assumed he was talking to Mrs. Grey. But his manner was succinct and his tone was polite at best. He mixed another drink and sat with a tight, drawn, almost angry look on his face. To break the tension I asked for another beer. When he handed it to me, he had relaxed a bit.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” he said.

  I poured and talked at the same time. “That’s fine. I’m in no hurry.” The sun had dropped behind the wall in the garden but the room hadn’t gotten much darker. I looked around and noticed two lamps glowing dimly. He hadn’t turned them on. They must be on a sensor.

  He crossed his legs and said. “I’m not either. But this is a rather awkward situation that perhaps we could bring to a close if we stop the fencing match and get to the point.”

  “I agree.”

  “So, you have told me what you found. What is it you want?”

  I drew patterns in the moisture on the outside of the glass with my index finger and answered, “I realize you said you were not Marty’s father. But the checks made out to Elizabeth would suggest that you had...” I paused and thought about the right way to say it. “...that you had... accepted responsibility for something and were sending her regular payments for that responsibility. The question then becomes what is, or was, that responsibility?”

  I was looking straight at him. His eyes first met mine, then he lowered them to his hands that he was slowly rubbing together in his lap. I continued. “The obvious answer is that you were paying her child support for Marty, which would make you the
father.” His eyes narrowed a bit and his lips pursed and his hands kept rubbing. Other than that, he looked frozen.

  Then he took a breath and said carefully. “I think I would agree with you. That is indeed the logical conclusion. However, it is the wrong conclusion. I am not Marty’s father.”

  He was so calm that I believed him, but it didn’t make sense and I like things to make sense. I was about to ask him what the checks were for when he reached for his glass and asked me, “May I ask why you are so intent on finding the father?”

  “Sure. The easy answer is that my client wants to know. But, to tell you the truth, if you ask why my client wants to know, I’m not quite sure.”

  “I assume you would not tell me who your client is?”

  I nodded. “Right.” Lights in the garden had come on and the lamps in the room were at full brightness. Nice touch.

  “As the mayor of this city, I could probably find out. But I have a pretty good idea. Let’s assume your client is Elizabeth’s brother. I don’t remember his name. It really doesn’t matter.”

  “No it doesn’t,” I agreed. “There’s still the matter of the checks and why the logical conclusion is the wrong one.” I spread my hands, palms up. “I’m open to other possibilities.” He didn’t offer any and I was becoming exasperated. “Mr. Mayor, I would really like to believe you, but I need some logical explanation.”

  He leaned forward and sighed. “I would like to give you one and I do have one. But you have to understand my position as mayor. I am trying to walk a thin line between obscurity and scandal. I am not Marty’s father. If you are assuming that I am, then you are also suggesting that I had an affair with Elizabeth. That is something I would like to avoid.”

  “No one has suggested that.”

  He nodded. “Not in so many words. But that is the result if I am the father. And if the papers or my adversaries heard the questions you are asking there would be a scandal no matter what the truth is.”

  “I understand that. And they will not hear it from me. That I hope you understand.”

  “Yes, I think so.”