Gold Coast Blues (23 page)

“So you lost it. You took the gun out of that drawer and shot her.”

Margot stood, then walked back to the chaise. I followed her and took my place on the love seat. She said, “You’re having a hard time thinking me capable of such violence.” I didn’t answer but it was true. “I’m surprised an experienced detective like you isn’t more cynical about such matters. You know,
the dark side
all people harbor.”

“I’m plenty cynical, but I’m not the grizzled, disillusioned veteran just yet. Don’t worry, I’ll get there.”

“Do you have dark secrets, Jules? Things you’ve done that you would never want anyone to know about? Things that would ruin your reputation?”

“My reputation isn’t worth ruining. You want to tell me the dark secret that made you a murderer?”

Margot didn’t answer.

“Okay, so you shot Tanya, then what? How did Doug react?”

“He screamed, took her into his arms. I fell to the floor and curled up in a ball, begged for it to all be a dream. At some point, I crawled to Doug, begged him to forgive me. I told him to take the wine, take anything, just don’t tell…He didn’t say anything. Just held her. There was blood….”

Margot pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs. “I don’t know how much time passed. I lay on the floor and just kind of surrendered to whatever was going to happen next. I’d never felt that way before. Without saying anything, Doug got to his feet and started opening closet doors. I walked over to him and asked what he was doing. ‘I need blankets,’ he said. Tears dripped off his face. He really loved her.”

“So Doug wrapped her up and carried her away?”

“I helped him put her in his car. After that, I don’t know where he took her. I don’t want to know. A few days later, he calls. Says he wants the wine. I gave him an access card and password—”

“Spike had volunteered to do the stealing, but you didn’t know anything about Spike being involved, did you? You really didn’t know Spike decided to keep the wine for himself.”

“Doug didn’t realize it right away either. He called me, angry, saying I’d changed my mind about giving him the wine and accusing me of hiding it somewhere.”

Johnny Bail Bonds had called me back to verify what I already knew—nobody named “Doug Daley” died in a car crash last February in New Mexico.

“Your own husband started blackmailing you,” I said. “Get his wine back or else. Someone called to set up an exchange of wine for ransom. It didn’t occur to you Spike was behind it?” Margot didn’t respond. “I guess you weren’t cynical enough. You didn’t see
the dark side
Spike harbored. Where’s Doug hiding now?”

“I don’t know. At first, he called periodically to threaten me. I guess when he figured out Spike had betrayed him, he stopped all communication.”

“What if you called him to set up a meeting?”

“He doesn’t answer the phone. He’s the only one who knows where Tanya’s body is and he wants to keep it that way. So what’s next for you? Collect the rest of your money and on to the next case?”

“Nothing’s changed, Margot. I’m still looking for Tanya.”

“But I told you—”

“Nobody’s dead if there isn’t a body. And if I want to find Tanya’s body, I need to find Doug.”

Margot looked as if she might vomit. “Why don’t you just turn me in to the police and get it over with?”

“Why would I do that, Margot?”

“Because I killed somebody.”

“You’ve got it backward. Are there witnesses to the shooting? The fact Doug knows where to find Tanya’s body condemns him, not you.”

“But you know the truth. Could you live with yourself knowing you let a murderer get away?”

“The only truth I need is confirmation of Tanya’s death. Everything else is only so much talk.”

Chapter 36

Lying on my back, I stared out my bedroom window, watching a curtain of mist hover a few feet above the buildings. Then I sat up. Wall-to-wall clouds, forty-something degrees. Springtime in Chicago.

Margot settling her neck over the chopping block exhibited naïveté. People got away with murder all the time. Doug guaranteed deflecting murder charges away from Margot when he carted off Tanya’s body. But Margot believed in Truth—a potential prison in itself for those wanting to live in a just universe. The puzzling part was not Margot shooting Tanya, but Doug so readily taking care of the body. Through Doug’s shock and grief, his thoughts turned to blackmail? I fed the hungry cat then grabbed the phone.

“If you wanted to find Doug,” I said to Spike, “where would you look?”

“A graveyard.”

“Pretend he’s alive.”

“I’d pretend not to care.”

“You should care. He’s got info on you.”

“Bullshit. He’s got nothing.”

“How about that fortune of stolen wine, dumbass?”

“He knows I’m connected. He won’t touch me.”

“Are you a businessman or Cosa Nostra?”

“It’s perception that matters, Landau. The way you carry yourself. You know that. What about Tanya? If Doug’s alive, does that mean Tanya’s alive?”

“I need to find Doug in order to find Tanya. Are you getting it now, Professor?”

Spike sighed through his nose. “So what do you want?”

“I’m not sure. Just tell me more about him. Anything.”

“What makes you think he’s still in Chicago?”

“Because that’s where the double-crossing son of a bitch with his stolen wine is.”

“You think he’s laying low, making a plan?”

“With millions of dollars’ worth of wine at stake, wouldn’t you?”

“So what’s he waiting for?”

“It doesn’t matter. Since you know where the wine is, I would suggest embracing the following scenario: one way or another, you will be contacted and asked questions. It may get uncomfortable.”

Spike laughed. “You think I should be afraid of Doug Daley? He doesn’t have the stomach.”

“A couple of million bucks can change a person. Why not consult with Cooper?”

“Because I don’t need Cooper.”

“Of course. Asking for help would show weakness. Then take the initiative and call out Doug. Make him an offer.”

Another laugh. “I’m supposed to pay off Doug when I’ve got what he wants? Only a pussy would do that.”

“Compromise! It happens all the time in business.”

“Only losers compromise.”

My turn to laugh. “Do I gotta teach you to be a gangster? It’s about
perception,
remember. Make him an offer
appearing
to want compromise. Then after you get him in your sights, you get
physical
with him until he agrees to take both of us to Tanya.”

I didn’t know what pained Spike more, agreeing with my plan or the idea of twisting someone’s arm. “I’ll think about it,” Spike said.

“What’s there to think about? You want to find Tanya or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but—”

“You disappoint me, Spike. Get the word out! Isn’t that how the system works? Let the street know you want to make things right with Doug. It’ll get back to him. You pull this off, Cooper will be impressed, that’s for sure. You’ll be on your way.”

Spike’s ambivalent grunt almost provoked more career-path advice from me. But people can change. Who was I to discourage a young criminal’s dream?

—

The last time I spoke to Kalijero, he’d insulted me in Greek and hung up. He owed me an apology.

“Jimmy, it’s time for you to show me the value of your forty years of cop work.”

“I don’t have to show you anything.”

“Yesterday you were so concerned about my well-being. I was really touched. Today, I’m nothing but a cheap whore.”

“A cheap whore has more sense than you.”

“Okay, that’s settled. But you need to help me get some info out on the street.”

“I need to?”

When will I learn? “I’m
asking
you. Think of it as more billable hours. You said you needed the money.”

“Use your contacts, Landau. That’s what private investigators do.”

“Exactly! I’m using you and your forty valuable years of cop contacts. You’re the best bang for my buck.”

Kalijero had no retort for an idea so brazenly well-reasoned. “Okay, Landau. What’s the word you want on the street?”

Kalijero’s sarcasm was unmistakable and stung my confidence. “First a little background: Margot Daley said her husband is still alive. Margot said she shot Tanya dead in front of him and Doug carted her off—”

“You believe this?”

“Not until I see a body. But here’s the message: Spike wants to make things right with Doug. Split the wine fifty-fifty. Meet him at—at Pâtisserie Grenouille. Have him call you or one of your contacts to set the day and time.”

“How about Sunday, high noon?”

“Fuck you, Jimmy. We’re talking over a million bucks’ worth of wine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Doug gets five cases of Mouton Rothschild. Do a little research if you think it’s bull.”

Kalijero paused, then said, “Okay, I’ll try to get the word out. Just don’t be surprised if Doug doesn’t get the memo.”

Chapter 37

Despite the temperature, I cracked the window and sat listening to the din of Halsted. The neighborhood appeared dull and washed-out under the clouds. The traffic sounded muffled too, as if the city’s volume had been turned down. Even the pedestrians appeared to walk with a heaviness in their stride.

Eddie answered on the second ring. I said, “Where are you? We need to talk.”

After much throat clearing, Eddie responded quietly with “What happened?”

“Don’t worry, dude. Nothing big. Just want to give you some info—but not on the phone. Maybe I’m paranoid.”

Eddie gave me a Lakeview address about a mile from my apartment. “No kidding? You get tired of roaches and syringes?” Eddie didn’t respond. I said I’d be over in a few minutes. He hung up without saying goodbye. Bad manners, like his dad.

—

The address was a two-story graystone on a quiet tree-lined avenue, as virtually removed from the South Jackson Street crud as one could get without living in suburbia. Eddie sat on the top step of the front stoop, playing a game on his phone. I sat on the next lowest step.

“Nice place,” I said.

“Gina’s dad owns it,” he mumbled, still focused on the game.

“Good investment.”

“He grew up in this house. Kept it in the family.”

Eddie continued playing until he said, “Damn it!” then put the phone down.

“Doug Daley isn’t dead,” I said.

His face lit up. I didn’t recognize him. “Then Tanya’s probably alive?”

“I don’t know. Spike stole a lot of pricey wine from Doug. Now we’re trying to lure Doug someplace, to talk with Spike about splitting the wine. I thought you could use some of your contacts to get the word out that Spike wants to make things right. But he’s going to have to tell us where Tanya is if he wants the wine.”

“I don’t got no contacts. Not here.”

“Ask Cooper.”

Angry Eddie said, “Ask him what?”

“Tell him you’re helping Spike dump some pricey wine on a rich chump named Doug Daley. You want to get the word out, and set up a meeting. Cooper will think you’re following through on the reason he sent you here.”

Eddie snapped at me. “It’s not like you make a call and everything just happens! It’s not some stupid movie.”

“Tell Cooper that Doug knows where Tanya is. He wants you to find Tanya, right?”

Eddie straightened up. His face relaxed a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “That might work.”

Neither of us spoke. Across the street, a young couple packed their Volvo with luggage. On the porch, two small kids wearing blue hooded sweatshirts with Cubs logos laughed while jumping up and down.

“It’s coming to an end, Eddie,” I said. “We’re getting closer to the truth.”

I thought I heard the slightest chuckle. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

—

An abstract grayscale mix of shapes reflected off the windshield of the gray sedan parked across from my apartment. The four concentric circles on the grille held no special significance until the driver’s side window lowered. We stared at each other. I extended my arms, holding my palms up with a bewildering look. Amy smiled weakly, then stepped out of the car. We had spoken on my return from Irvington, but watching her cross the street in tight stretch slacks and a black cable-knit sweater temporarily eclipsed all memory of why she approached.

“Ooh. Your face is still a mess,” Amy said.

It took a moment, but I remembered what she meant. I considered suggesting we go upstairs, but something about her posture discouraged me. “You look like you want to tell me something.”

Amy sat on the second stair of the building’s stoop. I sat next to her, but not presumptuously close. She said, “I was thinking about our conversation the other day. Maybe it would be best to confront Margot Daley directly about the wine counterfeiting and how it relates to Tanya’s whereabouts. You know, get right to the point.”

“Fake wine is irrelevant to Margot.”

“Oh, yeah? Why do you say that?” Something about her words sounded staged.

“Margot’s wine was stolen—an inside job, it turns out—but she doesn’t know about the wine counterfeiting. Figuring out why Tanya left her old New Jersey home in the first place will tell us a lot.”

“Margot was betrayed by someone who conspired with her husband?”

“A kid named Spike who then double-crossed Doug and kept the loot.”

“Margot still insists Doug killed Tanya?”

“She’s an unreliable narrator. Nobody is dead until we find a body.”

Amy leaned back, as if to take a good look at me. “You seem kind of uptight.”

I leaned back, intentionally imitating Amy, as if to take her all in. “Why are you always showing up suddenly? Why don’t you just call me?”

“Because I prefer talking face-to-face. I was going to give you five more minutes before driving off. I was just about to leave after I finished reading the paper.”

“Why do you need to
see
me? Am I special?”

“Just tell me to get lost if that’s what you want! What are you afraid of?”

She had a point, but even tough guys like me needed their secrets. “Margot admitted Doug’s not dead,” I told her.