by Rick Polad
“Sorry. I’ll call someone else next time.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll call me. But it’s possible to call with your suspicions and then let us take care of it. And I don’t tell you everything we do.”
“Fine. But there are things I can do that you can’t.”
“Right. But it’s not that we can’t. We won’t. Because it’s illegal and lawyers would be raining down on us.”
“So it’s better that I take care of it my way.”
“No it’s not, Spencer. Your way can land you in jail or get you killed. You wouldn’t like either option. Although maybe the clothes would be an improvement either way. So you’ve got the father thing nailed down?”
“Yeah. Ronny is the father, which is not good news.”
“I guess that’s good for the mayor. You believe the mayor?”
“Yes. There’s no way it could have been him.”
“How do you know?”
“You’ll have to take my word for it. It gets a little complicated and personal.”
“Well, good work on that, Spencer.”
“What are you going to do about the car accident?”
“You’re not going to like this, but I don’t think there is much we can do about it. Bobby is not very reliable and there is no way we could tie him to whoever gave him his orders. And it sounds like it really was just supposed to be an accident.”
“Great. So they get away with it?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“So?”
“So, they got Capone for tax evasion. We’ll see if we can get them for whatever is going on at the track.”
“What is going on at the track?”
“We’re pretty sure there are drugs going in and out but we don’t know how.”
“Did you get anything from Bobby?”
“Nothing that makes much sense. Found out that Bobby spends most of his time doing Ronny’s work for him. Cleaning stables, pitching hay, all the dirty work.”
I shook my head. “The guy is a real prize. Too bad Bobby doesn’t tell him to go to hell. But he admires him and is scared of him at the same time.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. Bobby expends a lot of energy keeping Ronny from getting mad at him. But he says there have been times he was doing Ronny’s job and got yelled at for doing something Ronny had told him Ronny would do himself. The kid’s memory isn’t that great for details. He’d make a crappy witness.”
“What do you mean, yelled at for work Ronny wanted to do? I get the feeling Ronny doesn’t want to do anything.”
“The kid says there were a few times he was setting up hay for the horses and Ronny exploded. Wanted to do it himself. Said Ronny kept a list of horses he wanted to hay himself.”
I sat for a minute. A car went by. It caught my attention only because it was doing the speed limit which was slow. “Try this on Stosh. What if the drugs are coming in in the hay bales on certain days? Somehow the bales are marked and Ronny gets those bales in the stalls of certain horses where they are later opened and picked up.”
“Could be. Could not. We’ve got no proof. We’d have to catch them at it.”
“Maybe we can.”
He just looked. “Continue.”
“Ronny had lists of horses in his apartment. They show which horses are supposed to be where on which days. The day a shipment comes in, he simply puts the marked bales in the prearranged stalls and someone later opens the bales and removes the drugs.”
Stosh stared at the lawn and then responded evenly. I had expected him to be a little excited. “Seems simple enough. But we’d have to know which horses were marked on which days.”
“I think he keeps a list and I think he keeps track of how much money he makes.”
“And how do you come to think this?”
“I’ve seen the lists.”
“Okay.” He didn’t ask where. “How do we know which days the drugs are coming in?”
“We simply check the list against the race lineups and see when that lineup of horses will be at the track. Kelly could find out when the horses are trailered in and...”
“Whoa, boy. Haven’t you risked the little lady enough?”
“Yes. But I don’t think that would be a risk.”
“Spencer, everything is a risk. Start thinking like that and you will be a bit ahead of the game.”
“Well then maybe there is some other way.”
He nodded. “There probably is. But there is another problem.”
I waited.
“Ronny isn’t apt to just hand us the lists for our viewing pleasure.”
“So? We know where they are. Go in and look. Get a search warrant.”
He shook his head and let out a big sigh. “Kid. It just doesn’t work that way. You’ve heard about all these gangs on the streets. We know they’ve killed people. We know they’re going to kill people again. We know where they are. They don’t hide, they stand out in plain view. But we can’t just run up and drag them off. They are protected by the same laws that protect you. We treat one of those poor misguided souls badly and the ACLU is filing lawsuits.”
“Sure. Let’s protect the rights of the bad guys. What about the rights of people to walk down their streets without getting shot at? How about if we get rid of the ACLU first?”
“Kid, I don’t disagree. It’s just the rules I’ve gotta play with. Now, your friend Ronny is also protected by the same rules. I have no good reason to search his apartment. No judge would issue a search warrant on the supposition we have.”
“Well if you’re not going to do anything, then maybe there’s another way.”
He stood up, turned to face me and said sternly, “Spencer. I didn’t say we’re not doing anything. We have a watch on several places, his included. I just can’t bust in without more reason. And if I see anyone else trying that they will be arrested. Understand?”
I didn’t respond.
“Spencer, I’m not kidding. I appreciate your sense of justice but if you try anything you will be behind bars without my sympathy. Do you understand?”
I nodded with resignation.
“Good.” He put his hand on my shoulder and said with compassion, “This isn’t easy for me either. But over the years you get used to it. We do what we can and have to settle for that.”
“Sure, Stosh. That’s why I’m not a cop.”
He stretched and yawned. “Our loss, Spencer. Our loss. Good night, kid.”
“Good night, Stosh.”
The screen door whooshed shut and I listened to his footsteps on the wooden foyer. I scanned the front yard. It looked like the plain clothes guys were asleep. Probably not. I decided I should be.
Chapter 33
I woke up at six. No one else was up. I showered downstairs so I wouldn’t wake anyone and was eating frosted flakes with extra sugar when Stosh came down.
“Hey kid.”
“Mornin’, Stosh. Hope you got some sleep.”
“Slept great. Course I didn’t start till three.”
I winced. “Sorry.”
He got a bowl, pulled out a chair, and joined me, without the extra sugar. “That’s okay, kid. Just try and stay out of trouble.”
“I always try. I’m just not always successful.”
He crunched a mouthful of flakes. “What are your plans?”
“I’m not sure. Is our quarantine over?”
He nodded and crunched. “Unless you do something else crazy, and you’re not planning on it are you?” He hesitated.
“No.”
“Good. Then my guess is you’re safe. They have Bobby back. Leave him alone. Keep bothering him and you may get another warning, or worse.”
“Do you think Bobby is okay?”
“I think so. He doesn’t know much.”
“But do they know that?” I clanged my spoon in the empty bowl and pushed it away.
He shrugged. “These aren’t nice people.” A few more bites. “Your paternity case is wrapped up,
right?”
“Right.”
“Then why don’t you disappear for awhile? Go up and see Rose and do some fishin’.”
“I’d like to. But there are a few things on the agenda.”
I got a concerned look.
“Nothing you’d care about,” I assured him. “Want to catch an art show and the mayor has something he wants me to look into.”
Another concerned look.
“Don’t worry, I’m heading for Wisconsin.”
He wiped his mouth and pushed his chair back. “Good, you can be their problem for awhile.” He picked up the bowls and put them in the sink.
“Kelly is going to want to get back to the track. Think she’s okay?”
His mouth scrunched. “Think so. For the same reasons that you’re probably safe. But if she feels nervous, have her take some more time off. I’d have her switch hotels anyway. And give her my direct number.”
“Okay. Thanks, Stosh.”
He patted my shoulder. “I made a promise kid. I’m stuck with you. Stay in touch.”
I arranged the Trib on the table. Sports section first. Kelly came down halfway through. She declined my frosted flake offer and made some wheat toast and sliced a banana. I filled her in on Stosh’s opinions. She did indeed want to get to the track to see to her horses. I told her to keep her eyes open and to be careful.
I filled her in on the hay theory and the possibility of the clue being at Ronny’s. She agreed that it was a shame that Stosh couldn’t just walk right in but was less dismayed than I. She asked about Marty’s father. I told her I knew but couldn’t say. She congratulated me and said she understood. I told her to switch hotels and to call and let me know where she was.
“Spencer, do you think we’re safe?” She was standing at the counter eating.
I gave her a kiss on the forehead and some assurance. “I think so. They’ve sent their warning. If they’re still walking around they have to figure the cops didn’t get anything from Bobby. As long as they feel safe everything is okay.”
“You aren’t planning on doing anything that would make them feel unsafe are you?”
I opened the fridge and poured some orange juice. “That seems to be the question of the day.”
She took a sip of my orange juice and asked with raised eyebrows, “And the answer of the day is?”
“A firm no, ma’am. I’ve got other things to do.”
“Good. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. “How about dinner tonight?”
“Sounds good. I’ll let you know where I am.”
“Call me and we’ll work out a time.”
She nestled her head into my chest. Her hair smelled like roses.
“Spencer?” she said softly.
“Mmmm.” I was thinking of taking her upstairs and falling asleep, but not necessarily right away.
“I hope Bobby is okay. I felt so much better when he was with your friends. He’s really a nice kid. I like him.”
“Yeah, he seems like a nice kid who got in with the wrong crowd. I like him too.”
“Despite...?”
“Yes, despite what happened to my folks. He was just the fall guy. I want the thugs who set it up, which is why I’m so frustrated by Stosh.”
“Maybe Stosh has something up his sleeve that you don’t know about.”
I shrugged. “I hope so.”
She looked at her watch. “Gotta go. I arranged for the horses to be taken care of, but I feel better doing it myself. I’ll call you.” I got a peck on the cheek. “After the last dinner, my expectations are high. See you tonight.”
“Bye, green eyes. See you.”
I watched her go, resisted the urge to go back to bed, and searched for my keys. After five minutes, I found them in my pocket. Good start to the day.
I had to go back to my apartment, but I shouldn’t have. It didn’t help my mood. The place was a mess and it just made me angrier. By the time I straightened up, it was noon and I was hungry. I decided to eat some of my fee.
Beef’s joint was crowded. The only seats were at the counter. I grabbed a stool and slowly spun forward. Beef saw me from the other end of the counter and gave me a salute. He picked some coins off the counter and carried an armful of dirty dishes to the kitchen. He was back in less than a minute.
“Hey, bigshot. Thought you disappeared. I hope your absence means you’ve been making progress. How about the Special?”
“Sounds good. And yes I have made progress. I should have something for you in a couple of days.” I had something for him now but wasn’t sure how to tell him, or even what to tell him. The truth didn’t seem like such a great idea. Maybe if I gave it some time I would come up with something better. I guessed I could always tell him I’d come up empty. I didn’t want him or anyone else knowing Ronny was Marty’s father.
“Good. I can’t chat. I’ve gotta figure out how to pick up Marty. The lady who usually drives her home was in an accident.”
“She at day care?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“I’ll go get her. I’ve got nothing going on till later.” I planned on getting to the gallery sometime midafternoon. “Do I have time to eat?”
“Sure. It’ll be right up. She’s done at one. It’s the Happy Toddler on Western just south of Baylor. I’d really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
“I’ll have to call and tell them you’re going to pick her up. Thanks, Spencer.”
In less than a minute, Beef put a plateful of meatloaf and green beans and mashed potatoes in front of me. I covered the meatloaf in a thick layer of ketchup and got a dirty look from Beef. I shrugged. As far as I was concerned, the ketchup was the main course. It was excellent. So was the meatloaf.
Twenty minutes later I parked in front of the Happy Toddler. A swinging sign hanging above the door sported a large smiley face. I waited ten minutes for one o’clock to roll around and then went in. The kids were putting toys away. Marty saw me and came running over.
“Look what I made,” she said with a big smile. It was an abstract finger painting that I liked more than some of the stuff I saw the last time I was at the Art Institute.
Marty was loading her backpack when a short woman in a smock came up to me.
“Are you here for Marty?”
“Yes, ma’am. Beef sent me.”
“Could I see some identification please?”
I showed her my driver’s license. She smiled and handed it back to me.
“Sorry to bother you, but we like to be careful.”
I smiled back as I helped Marty sling the pack over her shoulder. “No problem. It’s nice to know she’s in good hands.”
“Oh she certainly is. We have wonderful people here. If you ever need a place for your...”
I stopped her in the middle of her sales pitch and assured her that I wouldn’t have a need for her services in the near future.
I held the door for Marty and asked how her day was.
“Oh, okay, I guess.” She looked sad.
“Just okay?”
She nodded as I buckled her into the back seat.
“How come?”
“My friend didn’t come today. She said she would.”
“Your friend?”
“Yes, the balloon lady. Last week she promised to come back and she didn’t.”
“Well maybe she had some kind of emergency. Maybe she’ll come tomorrow.”
“I hope so. She said I’m her favorite.”
That wasn’t hard to believe. Marty was a wonderful kid, especially considering what she had been through. After a short drive, I walked her into the diner and waved at Beef. He waved back and gave me a thumbs up.
Next stop, Kathleen. Traffic was light going up the expressway and I made it to north Clark Street by three. The gallery was glass-fronted and looked crowded. I drove past and parked in a self-park lot. I wondered how I would fi
t in. I was dressed in jeans and not my best jeans at that. I found out as soon as I walked through the door. The room was full of society darlings in designer clothes. I sighed, decided I didn’t care, and tried to find Kathleen. Her paintings and drawings of Door County were scattered about the room and she was standing near one of the largest, a scene of the Cana Island lighthouse framed by the fall colors of the trees. I caught her eye and got a big smile.
While I waited for her to finish chatting with a couple who looked like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine, I scanned the room and wondered how Kathleen and I would react to one another. As far as I was concerned, I was stopping in to see a friend. I had a feeling she might have more on her mind and wasn’t quite sure how to handle that. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about it.
I was admiring a scene of Egg Harbor when she wrapped her arms around me from behind. I turned around and returned the hug.
“Hello, Spencer! I’m so glad you could come.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Kathleen. I’m very proud of you. Your work is fabulous.”
“Thanks. This is really a big break.”
A quick little man with a long nose and beady eyes, whom she introduced as the gallery manager, took her arm from behind and said she was needed to answer some press questions. She told him she would be right there.
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry. This is not a good time to talk. How about dinner when all this is over?”
The little fox man pulled her away before I could answer. I really didn’t want the opportunity to have a conversation any deeper than we’d just had; deep conversations with Kathleen had never led to any good. While I was considering how to make a graceful exit, my beeper went off. I went to find a phone. It was Kelly.
“Spencer, I’m so glad I got you.”
“Hi Kelly. What’s the matter? You sound upset.”
“Spencer, Bobby is dead.”
That had to sink in for a second. “Bobby? Our Bobby?”
“Yes. One of the stable boys found him in a stall with his head bashed in. There was blood all over.”
“Are the police there?”
“Not yet. We just called them.”
