Derailed (26 page)

Elbows on his desk, he folded his hands in front of his face. “Now, when they're done with you—”

“Captain, I'll at least have to give a deposition to show probable cause for their arresting that guy.”

“No, no, no! That's the beauty of it. They brought their own dog. All they have to say is that their dog identified the contraband, which I'm sure he did.”

That bitter taste rose in my mouth again, but what could I say?

“Sit down. Sit down and relax.” But as soon as I pulled up a chair and sat down, Gilson got up and went to his wall map of Amtrak's Midwest routes. “When the DEA's done with you, I want you to plan some more trips. I want us to make some busts without having to rely on DEA tips. I want us to find the stuff entirely on our own.”

He started tapping the map with his finger. “Our routes meet in Chicago like spokes of a wheel converging on the hub. And Chicago's a big drug market; dope's coming in from the south and west every day, but some of it goes out to the north and east too. So I want you to start riding the rails and nailin' those guys!”

When he stopped to catch his breath, or maybe it was to see if I was tracking with him, I decided to lighten things up a little. “First you want me to play the ol' blind man, and now you want me to act the hobo? I don't know, Captain. Are you typecastin' me?”

“What do you mean,
hobo
? I didn't say anything about a hobo.”

“It's just . . . you know,
hobos
used to ride the rails? Forget it. Look, I don't mind bein' undercover. I'm just concerned whether this ruse'll continue to work. But go ahead with what you were sayin'.”

“Well, what I meant was, I don't think you'll need to go very far on most routes, you know, just like down to Galesburg or Champaign, and then catch the return train coming back. You only gotta be on long enough to search with your dog.”

With his mention of Corky, I glanced down. She was lying on the floor, chin resting on her crossed front paws. She looked up at me and over at the captain, causing the tufts of fur above her eyes to waggle like curious eyebrows. I reached down and scratched her behind the ear to assure her,
This too shall pass
.

Gilson continued, “Out by the ticket counter you'll find printed schedules for each of the routes. Use them to plan your trips for the next month. Some you ought to be able to do as day trips, but some'll require overnights.”

I stood and took a step toward the map, Corky rising to support me. “Look, Captain, before we get too far into this, I think we need to arrive at an understanding. When I took this job, you portrayed overnights and multi-day trips as rarities, and you even said there'd be comp time. I think we need to arrive at some mutual expectations here.
Know what I mean?
” I used his phrase.

I was kicking myself for not hammering all this out in writing before I took the job. From the very beginning, Gilson had done
plenty to let me see how over the top with wild ideas he was. I should've paid more attention to my hesitations.

“Harry, of course. Comp time. Hey, didn't I tell you to go home early yesterday? I don't want to burn you out. In fact, I'm suggesting you write your own ticket here. You make your schedule. Just bring it back to me for review. The only time we can't be flexible is if we get a call from the outside—the DEA, TSA, or some other law enforcement agency that needs our help. Then we've gotta step up. But you go see what you can come up with on your own. Okay?”

“But just to set some parameters,” I persisted, “any time I'm gone overnight, I earn a full comp day, right? And I never work on Sunday—”

“Now, now, Harry, never say never! You know emergencies come up in law enforcement. I won't put you out there on a Sunday if you don't wanna go . . . unless, of course, it's absolutely necessary. Isn't that good enough for you? I think it is. Now you go work on a plan for your next month and get back to me later this afternoon.” He put his arm out as though he was going to pat my shoulder and walk me to the door. “Okay?”

Fortunately, his desk phone rang and he detoured. “Yeah?” Then he covered the receiver. “The DEA's here. Go give 'em a pound of flesh. See ya later.”

Yeah, right. But after I was done with the DEA, better believe I was gonna write myself a reasonable ticket.

After the interview, which didn't last more than an hour, I dropped Corky off at the kennel—don't think she really wanted to stay there—and returned to my office with the route schedules.

I soon discovered that most major trains out of Chicago ran once a day, but it wasn't that simple. For instance, one Empire Builder left Chicago about two fifteen each afternoon, headed for Seattle. At 3:55
P.M
., a returning Empire Builder was expected to arrive. But because the trip took some forty-three hours each way—if they were on time—two more trains passed each other in Montana that same afternoon, having left their starting cities the day before, while a fifth train was about to pull out of the Seattle station heading east.

I didn't want to ride the Empire Builder all the way to Montana just to catch an eastbound train to bring me home. That'd eat up two full days. I frowned. Of course, I could get off earlier, but all I'd gain would be a longer wait in a station to catch that returning train.

Had to be a better way.

I picked up the schedule for the Hiawatha train. It was more of a commuter service, running between Chicago and Milwaukee five times a day.
Hmm
. I could ride the Empire Builder as far as Milwaukee, then catch the 5:45
P.M
. Hiawatha back to Chicago. Or take a morning Hiawatha out if I wanted to ride an Empire Builder back that same afternoon.

Bingo, my first day trip! But could I check a whole train in an hour and forty minutes? Corky and I'd have to hustle.

I tried to put together similar combinations between long-run trains and shorter commuters for the California Zephyr, the Southwest Chief, the Texas Eagle, the City of New Orleans, the Cardinal down through Indianapolis, the Capital Limited, and the Wolverine up through Michigan.

Unfortunately, out of those eight “spokes,” I was only able to arrange day trips on half of them. The others would be overnighters. But there were also shorter-run trains I could cover with day trips: the Illinois Zephyr, Carl Sandburg, Lincoln, Saluki, and the Illini. None of them were likely major drug avenues into Chicago, but perhaps they distributed drugs out to smaller cities.

By three o'clock I'd put a trip plan on the captain's desk for the month. He scanned over it, his head nodding slower and slower as he read, then he looked up at me with a frown on his face. “Where's the Southwest Chief? You gotta know there's a reason it's nicknamed ‘The Drug Train' comin' this way and ‘The Money Train' goin' west. After all, it comes from LA and travels through towns in Arizona and New Mexico not that far from the border. I mean, we've got a detective stationed in Albuquerque for that very reason, but we can't put him on the train. He's too busy in New Mexico.”

I held up both hands. “No problem. It's just a day run. I can put it in anywhere. I'll take the morning Carl Sandburg down to
Galesburg, then catch the returning Chief that afternoon. Be home by three fifteen.”

Gilson frowned and stroked his chin. “Three hours isn't bad, but for your first run on that particular train, I'd like you to spend a little more time and ride it both ways. Why don't you make it an overnighter by taking it all the way to Kansas City, sleeping over, and coming back the next day?”

“Okay. Why don't I swap out the . . . the Texas Eagle run. I think I had it down for next week, April 14, wasn't it?” I pointed to the forms in his hand. “However . . .” I took a deep breath. “. . . as you can see, I've scheduled no more than two trips per week, one day trip plus one overnighter. Could do two day trips but not two overnighters. The rest of my time's here in the station, not undercover. Those are my limits, Captain. Unless there's a specific intelligence tip on a major case like you mentioned, we stick to that load.”

Gilson leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. But I plunged on, saying what I had to say. “We gotta come to an understanding here, Captain. Ya know, I don't need this job. You came to me. We're trying an experiment with this undercover K-9 thing. And that's good. I'm willing to keep workin' it to see how it pays off, but if a schedule like what I've drawn up isn't something you can work with, then perhaps you need a different undercover man.”

My heart was pounding as I tried to control my breathing. I'd never laid it on the line with a boss like that before . . . or wait a minute. Yes I had. I'd confronted Fagan—even pleaded with him several times—to clean up his act before I went to Internal Affairs. Definitely a bigger deal than this.

Gilson stared up at me with an I-can't-believe-this expression on his face. I should've paid more attention to what I was getting into before I signed on, but he also should've known what I was like when he hired me.

Seconds crept by like hours as my breathing slowed and I reassured myself that we had to get this straight. Yeah, I needed a job to cover our mortgage, but I didn't need
this
job. I could get a security job or even go back to being a doorman if I had to. I wasn't too
proud for that. Of course, I'd miss Corky. In just two weeks she'd become my partner. No, more than that. I loved that dog. If I had to quit, maybe I could buy her from Amtrak . . . oh, yeah. For how much? Twenty grand?

“Well,” said Gilson, handing my schedule papers back to me, “swap the Texas Eagle for the Southwest Chief, then have Phyllis photocopy the schedule for me. Otherwise, looks like a good start. But speaking of the Southwest Chief, sometime I want you to get all the way out to Albuquerque to meet Detective Conway. He's a good man, about as hardnosed as you.” A slight smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Absolutely. I'd be glad to meet him.” I gave the papers a shake in the air. “I'll have Phyllis make you a copy. See ya tomorrow.”

Out in the hall, I blinked. What just happened? Had Gilson accepted the parameters I'd put on my job? Seemed like it. But would he remember them tomorrow or the next day? I had to admit he'd never gone back on anything—he just went forward, forward so fast you had to scramble to keep up.
Ha, ha
! Well, I'd scramble. In fact, from now on, I'd keep ahead of him.

“Got some things straightened out with Gilson today,” I announced to Estelle as I hung Corky's leash on the hook and watched the dog go check her food dish.

Estelle wiped her hands on her apron and turned from the pot she'd been stirring on the stove. “That's good, hon. Come on over here and give me some sugar.”

We kissed. “
Mmm
.” She rolled her eyes, a little smirk on her face. “That's a pretty good start . . .” She turned back to the pot. “So, what's this about your boss?”

I explained how there might be occasional longer trips if the Feds got involved, but otherwise I'd laid down the law: no more than one overnight per week.

“Every week? Harry, I don't want you—”

I raised my hands. “Hold on now. Yeah, probably every week, but he also agreed to give me a full day's compensation for every overnight. I even wrote up my own schedule for the next month. That means a four-day workweek most weeks. I'm gonna take Fridays off, but we can switch that around sometimes if you want.”

“
Hmph
! I'll believe it when I see it.” She added some salt to what she was cooking. “But . . . does that mean you're gonna be free this Friday?”

“Yep. I already put in my overnight this week when I went out to Lincoln to catch that dude with the weed. Why? You want us to do somethin' special this Friday?”

“Unfortunately, it's not me. Gotta work. I've been thinking of askin' Grace Meredith, that young woman who came to dinner, if she'll come with me to the shelter this Friday for a visit. But we got a call today from a Don Krakowski. Said he was the son of the woman who used to own this place.”

“Yeah. I remember him. Met him when he came by to pick up her stuff.”

“That's the thing. He said she left a box here, some legal papers and old mementos that are real important to her. Doesn't seem to be with the stuff they put in storage, so she's been beggin' him to bring her by to look for it. He's got this Friday off, so he wants to come then. I tried to tell him we'd both be workin', but he was very insistent. Wanted to know if anyone else would be home. Of course, there's Rodney, but I had no idea what he's got planned. Anyway, I told this Don fellow we'd call him back.”

“I don't remember any box with that kind of stuff in it. Do you?”

“No, and I tried to tell him that, but he said his mother won't give him any rest until she's had a look for herself.”