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Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde

Albany Park (54 page)

BOOK: Albany Park
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Jim shot a thumbs-up as the audience began clapping and cheering.Vic acknowledged the applause, smiling broadly.

“My other major goal is to encourage assistance for the high-tech services and products that are causing a revolution in business throughout the world. Computers and new types of communications are the future and we in Illinois, with some of the finest universities and industries in the world deserve help from the Federal Government. I want the people of Illinois to be on the forefront of these breakthroughs and I will work in Congress to make this happen.”

Shouts of encouragement broke out as several folks stood to add to the loud applause that greeted this statement.

Concluding with a thank you, Vic opened the gathering to questions. The first to respond was a tall gray-haired man with glasses that Vic recognized as a professor from Northwestern whom he had met at a previous meeting.

The man identified himself. “John Whittinghill, I teach computer science, Mr. Wayne,” he said holding up some papers. “At Northwestern we are working on projects you mentioned that will lead to new ways for people in the world to communicate. If elected, will your office be prepared to aid our requests for government grants?”

Vic responded affirmatively. He then took a question from a young woman asking his position on government student loans, followed by a man complaining about foreign aid. Vic handled both easily, but was distracted by a heavyset man, he recognized from the Tribune, to the right of Darlene and his sons, holding a small notepad and pen, waving his hand, shouting, “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne!”

Vic avoided looking his way and pointed at a man with his hand up who he knew was a friend of Jim Vogel. Before the man could start talking, the heavyset man stepped forward and shouted in a loud gravelly voice, “Mr. Wayne, John Shay from the Chicago Tribune.”

The loud interruption was causing a restless stirring in the crowd. People were standing and looking to see what was going on. Shay, in a wrinkled, ill-fitting corduroy jacket, barely covering his large belly, hanging over his baggy trousers and scuffed loafers went on loudly, “Mr. Wayne, could you please explain your meeting with a notorious madam from South Florida that took place at Gianotti’s Restaurant fourteen months ago, and how that relationship might affect your job, if you succeed in becoming a congressman from Illinois?”

Darlene’s eyes bulged as she held back Ben, who had started to get up to confront the scraggly-looking reporter.

Vic held his breath as his hand shot to his mouth, but nothing came out. Quickly looking to Jim, who was at his left shaking his head vigorously and motioning with his hands to stay calm. Vic leaned in, holding tight to the podium, attempting to control the wave of nausea that was surging inside of him.

Shay turned to the audience opening his hands and turned back waiting and called out, “Mr. Wayne?”

Taking a few deep breaths Vic looked to Darlene, standing and restraining Ben and Jeff. Slowly he raised his arms trying to restore order to the loud rumbles of the crowd and Shay’s shouting.

The room became quiet, except for the scraping of a few chairs as people’s attention was directed to the front of the hall. Waiting for the noise to quiet down, Vic focused on Shay. Clearing his throat, he squinted and zeroed in.

“I don’t quite understand the question; would you possibly clarify what it is that you are trying to find out?”

Ben and Jeff moved closer to Shay, glaring at him. Darlene, hands clasped in front of her, eyes shifting from Vic to the reporter.

Shay, chin out, looked first at Ben and Jeff and then Vic. He glanced at his notes, cleared his throat and rasped, “I have information that you met with a woman named Sally Ray from Fort Lauderdale, at Giannotti’s Restaurant near the O’Hare Airport fourteen months ago….Ms Ray is reputed to be the madam of a very exclusive brothel and escort service in South Florida with ties to organized crime in that area. I think the public would like to know what reason you would have for associating with her and what effect that will have on your job if you are elected to Congress?”

What were mumbles grew louder and Jim Vogel, who had come to Vic’s side yelling the reporter out of order. Other shouts from the audience called for Vic to answer the question.

Raising his arms, Vic attempted to quiet the crowd. “Please, please folks take your seats,” he shouted, pausing for the racket to subside.

The movement of chairs and voices died slowly and Shay moved closer to hear.

“You must be mistaken, Mr. Shay, I don’t recall any such meeting,” Vic answered in a low voice.

Jim gestured for him to get offstage, whispering, “say it’s late, you have another meeting tonight.”

Vic complied, making a feeble attempt at waving as he heard a lot of movement in the hall, drowning the weak clapping. Shay shrugged and moved back, then turned away.

Jim grabbed Vic’s arm and led him toward the exit, pausing only to quickly shake a few outstretched hands.

Once out the door in the back parking lot, Jim spun Vic around. “What the hell was that about Sally Ray?”

“Look Jim, I don’t want to talk about it. That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said pulling away.

“Don’t turn away,” Jim hissed. “That answer is bullshit. You are a candidate and I–, I mean we want to know, what the fuck is going on? My ass is on the line in this thing.”

Darlene and the boys had come out. After Vic’s exit, she had steered the boys away from Shay, taking their arms and muttering through tightly gritted teeth, “get me out of here, I want to find your father, now!”

Seeing how angry Jim was she decided to wait thirty feet away.

Vic saw them. Looking away from Jim, he growled, “I don’t know any Sally Ray.”

“Don’t fuck with me Vic. You know Sally Ray, remember we had a conversation a couple of years ago when I mentioned I heard some rumors about Shirley Siegal? We both know that she’s Sally Ray.”

Vic sucked in his lower lip and tugged at his collar. “So what are you trying to say?”

Seeing him irritated, Jim bore in, “Vic, this is going to be all over the papers tomorrow. How the hell could you hide something like this from me?”

Stiffening Vic glared at Jim, “I really don’t want to talk about this, it might become an issue.”

“You’re goddamn right it’s going to be an issue. A great big fat issue unless you got an answer.”

“I’ve got nothing to say, so forget about it.”

Shaking his head with a weary look, Jim sighed. “Don’t screw this up, Vic. That fucking Shay has something on you. He may be a bummed-out drunk, but the Tribune doesn’t keep him on for nothing. He’s a good newsman and he’s got something. And if you don’t tell me what it is so I can spin it before the papers come out, the party’s going to dump you.”

Darlene began moving toward Jim and Vic with the boys following, “Jim,” she called out, let me talk to Vic alone. One of us will call you later on tonight. “

“Mom,” said Jeff, standing with Ben about ten feet away.

“Go away boys,” she answered with a sweep of her hand. “You too Jim, I’ll handle this!”

Reaching for Vic’s arm, she said, “What’s going on with Sally Ray? That bastard Shay has something on you; doesn’t he?”

Turning to her with his head down, lips compressed and eyes closed, he lifted his hands to cover his face.“Another one of your women?” she said sharply dropping his arm. “Have you taken up with a hooker since we’ve been separated?”

Vic shook his head and moaned, “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it? I warned you, politics is a nasty business.”

Letting out a long breath, he said through his hands, “can we talk?”

She glared at him, her eyes almost closed, without answering and then said abruptly, “Where’s your car Victor? Let’s get out of here.”

They rode for several blocks, neither saying a word until Darlene told him to pull into the lot of a brightly lit restaurant.

“Don’t get out,” she said as he parked.

“Now tell me what’s going on.”

Unable to look at her, Vic dropped his head back on the headrest as his hands loosely gripped the steering wheel. “Darlene, I want everything to be right with us, I love you,” he said barely audible.

She slammed her hand on the dashboard. “Cut it out Victor,” she screamed, voice cracking, “Just tell me about this woman Sally Ray. You know it’s going to be all over the news, so you might as well tell me now.”

“Shirley Siegal is Sally Ray and yes, I had lunch with her over a
year ago
.”

“Is she a whore like Shay said?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that until after I’d agreed to meet
with her
.”

“So why Victor? I don’t understand, is she another Mitzi Rubin?”

Closing his eyes, he slumped forward. “She was back in town for a few days. She said she heard I was running for office and wanted to make a five thousand dollar contribution to my campaign, so I agreed. And then she went her way and I went mine.”

“Oh c’mon Victor, are you sure that’s all there is to it?”

“Darlene, I hadn’t seen or talked to that woman in thirty years other than that short lunch meeting we had at Giannotti’s… I don’t know how Shay or anyone else found out about it.”

“And…”

“Look Darlene, you know how I feel about you and our family….And I know my campaign is probably going to be in trouble with Shay and the Tribune on my case. I feel like such a goddamn fool and hate myself because I may disappoint so many people I care about. “

“Jesus, you sound more like a politician every day.”

“What do you think, should I withdraw?”

Darlene made a small clicking noise with her tongue and moved her jaw in a swirling motion as she pondered her answer, slowly saying, “that’s up to you, but don’t panic, lots of people give campaign cash to candidates. This has to be handled right. If you’re sure there’s no more to it, maybe I should talk to Jim. I’m sure between the two of us we can come up with a way to spin this crap.”

Settling back in the seat, she looked straight ahead. Neither spoke for several minutes.

Outside it was cold and damp, causing the windows to fog up. Reaching under the seat he pulled up a tissue and wiped at the window, clearing a spot on her side as well.

“How bout coffee?”

“No, just take me home. I’ve had enough excitement for one day. And I want to call Jim Vogel before it gets too late.”

The lights of the restaurant dimmed as he started the car and turned on the wipers as they pulled into the street. They rode in silence for the fifteen minutes it took to drop her at the house. He waited until he saw the lights in the house go on, before pulling away.

 

Chapter 40
 

“According to my friends at the Tribune, Shay got his information from a guy connected to Eldridge Palmer,” Jim reported when they met Saturday morning in the Crime Commission office.

At the round table in the lunch room was Bob Wallace, from the Governor’s staff, Vern Callaway, the Mayor’s representative, Jim Vogel and Vic, feeling slightly uncomfortable in a light blue Arnold Palmer sweater and open collared shirt, while the other three had on suits.

Vic reached behind him for some napkins on the counter next to the coffee maker. He handed a few to Callaway and put the rest on the table.

“I should have guessed that asshole had something to do with something this low,” Vic muttered. “He’s got the Republican nomination just about wrapped up. But I would have thought he would have waited till after the primaries.”

Callaway wiping donut crumbs off the sleeve of his worn sharkskin suit jacket, turned to Vic, “From what I gather, he hired a private detective to get some dirt on you because you were ahead in the race and you’re the one guy he doesn’t want to run against. He figures he can outspend either of your opponents and waltz into a seat in Congress. With you in the race, he’s worried that you’re getting more financial support than he is and that you’d have more appeal than the other two lesser known guys.”

Vic, bottom lip curled in, listened quietly, not liking the tone of the crafty old politician.

“Can’t say for sure,” Callaway continued,” but I’ve heard the Tribune is planning on staying with the story, claiming they have a reliable witness who spotted you at the restaurant with Sally Ray. She caused quite a stir by paying the check with a hundred dollar bill; then told the waiter to call her a cab and keep the change. I also heard they’re going to keep on the story, by getting more dirt on her and her boyfriend who is reputed to be a heavyweight in the mob.”

Wallace, dapper as usual, in an expensively tailored brown pin stripe, put down his coffee, hesitated to get their attention, before speaking. “Of course, they’re going to try to link it to you in any way that they can.”

“Of course,” Vic nodded.

”They particularly like the sex angle because it sells newspapers and makes the race exciting,” Wallace added.

Callaway jumped back in…, “In addition, they’re going to tell about her husband being in jail for a botched drug deal and more about his shady past here in Chicago as well as Florida. It doesn’t look good, Vic.”

Vic leaned back, his eyes now small slits, “Anything more?”

“They’ve dug up old stories about Shirley’s husband and they’re planning to make it sound like you were involved with him in Chicago, especially since you’ve been connected to her since you were kids,” Jim said, running a hand over his receding hairline, “We’re going to have to issue a statement.”

Vic thought for a moment, and glanced back at Jim, who was rustling papers in his briefcase. “First, how about relaxing and let’s sort this out. I haven’t had anything to do with Shirley Siegal or Sally Ray, or her husband for over thirty years.

Sitting back, Jim adjusted his glasses. “Yeah,…so?”

Bob Wallace, made a couple of notes on a pad and looked up to hear what Vic had to say. Callaway just leaned in, the fingers of his right hand lightly drumming the table.

“This is what happened,” Vic said, looking to the three men. “Shirley Siegal showed up out of the blue one day at my office and wanted to talk; acting like it was something important. It wasn’t long after my wife and I were going through a little rough time in our marriage. Since she was an ex-girlfriend of mine, I didn’t want to talk with her in the office, especially with my sons Ben and Jeff around. So I agreed to meet her for lunch the next day at Giannotti’s. When I got there, she told me she heard I was going to run for Congress and wanted to contribute some money to my campaign.”

BOOK: Albany Park
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