“When are you going to get started?” Felix was asking.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Not tonight?”
“Tomorrow morning. Tonight I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Whatever you think is best, I suppose. Nolan?”
“What?”
“Why is it you haven’t told me just where the hell in Iowa the scene was of this afternoon’s fiasco?”
“Because you already checked with the switchboard to see where the long distance call was from.”
“Oh. Don’t you think it would be wise to get to Iowa City as soon as possible and start investigating?”
“Felix.”
“What?”
“I asked for two days and you said I could have them.”
“Right, but that doesn’t mean...”
“Felix.”
“What?”
“How can I put this? Felix. You’re full of shit.”
Felix drew a breath. “Am I really?”
“Yeah. You are. You’re a lawyer, Felix. Don’t tell me how to handle the sort of thing you know nothing about, okay? I get married and want a divorce, I’ll come to you.”
“You’re tense, Nolan,” Felix said tensely. “I’m going to forget you’ve said this.”
“I don’t give a damn what you do. You’re just a goddamn lawyer.”
“Just a goddamn lawyer...”
“Okay, so you represent the Family. That powerful organization that clutches the city of Chicago by its very balls. That powerful organization that let one balding old hood named Charlie turn it into the world’s biggest asshole. But don’t feel bad. Look what that guy Nader did to General Motors.”
Felix smiled and wagged his head. “By God, you’re right. Pour me another vodka martini.”
“Sure, Felix.” Nolan did.
Felix took the martini and nibbled it, then said, “Why don’t you take one of my men with you? Take Angelo if you don’t like Greer.”
“Felix...”
“Now this is one thing I’m going to have to insist on. This is not the lawyer talking now, this is from upstairs, as they say. The Family has a big interest in this affair. You have to understand. It’s more than just money now that Charlie’s turned up.”
“Suppose you’re right,” Nolan said. “Give me Greer then. He’ll need to take a car for himself, by the way.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t I just explain that to Greer.”
“Well, all right, whatever it takes to make your investigation a success.”
“Look, you said that before, that word ‘investigate’... I’m not going to investigate, Felix. I don’t know how to do that. I’m not the goddamn FBI. I’m not going to Iowa City and snoop around, because all the action there is over and I got a friend there covering things for me. What I’m going to do is go around knocking heads together, Family heads, because that’s who was involved in faking Charlie’s send-off. Right?”
“Correct,” Felix said, his smile damn near feeble.
Nolan said, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your help. You deserve credit for thinking of Joey Matrano. We’d been in trouble if we picked the wrong guy to work over.”
Nolan had said that to unruffle Felix’s feathers, and it worked nicely, sparking Felix into a rambling, self-glorifying explanation of how he had known that if Charlie were alive, Joey would know, and of Charlie’s friends and relatives in the Family, Joey would be easiest to break, and so on. Nolan tried not to fall asleep. Across the pool, the phone on the snack bar counter began to ring during the closing moments of Felix’s oration.
Nolan said, “That’ll be for me,” and went after it.
The switchboard girl said, “I’ve got a long-distance call from Iowa City for you,” and Nolan said, “Put him on,” hoping Jon had better tidings this time around than last.
“Hello?” a voice said. Not Jon’s. A female voice.
“Yes? This is Logan.”
“Uh, is your name Logan or Nolan or what? Jon says Nolan and then tells me ask for Logan and... oh, Christ, I suppose that’s unimportant, I mean...”
She was almost crying.
“Hey!” Nolan said. “Who is this? What’s wrong?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be upset. Jon said if I got worried, really got worried, I should call you. He explained that this was... a dangerous situation. That men with guns were involved.”
“Settle down. My name is Nolan. All right? I’m Jon’s friend. All right? And I’m your friend, too. Now tell me your name.”
“Karen.”
“All right, Karen. Now what’s the problem?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, I really am, I shouldn’t be bothering you, I’m just easily upset, I guess.”
“Why are you upset, Karen?”
“It’s Jon. He said he’d be back by eight, and, well, you know what time it is now.”
That was bad.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Karen.”
“There was something else...”
“What?”
“Well, he gave me a number to call. I was supposed to try him there, before bothering you. He said don’t bother you unless I was really upset or worried or something.”
“Do you know whose number it was?”
“Jon said it was a doctor he was going to see.”
That made sense, Nolan thought. “Go on, Karen.”
“Well, I called the doctor a half hour ago and he said... he said he hadn’t seen Jon. He doesn’t even know Jon, he says. Didn’t understand what the hell I was talking about.”
Shit.
“Okay,” Nolan said. “Don’t worry. You did right calling, Karen. You’ll hear from me soon.”
Her sigh of relief came over clear on the phone. “Thanks,” she said. “I mean it, thanks. Whatever the hell your name is.”
“Now give me your address and phone number.”
She did, and Nolan found a note pad to jot them down.
After he’d hung up, he went over to where Sherry was swimming and told her to go back to the room and wait for him. She nodded yes, grabbed up her towel, and scooted off. Nolan walked over to Felix and said, “Looks like you get your wish after all.”
Felix looked up from his third martini and said, “How’s that?”
“My friend in Iowa City is in trouble, I think. You go get Greer and have him ready to go in the parking lot within fifteen minutes or I’m leaving without him.”
Three
1
The sun was hot and high in a practically cloud-free sky and Jon was feeling lousy. It was Tuesday afternoon, just an hour and a half after he’d left his uncle at the antique shop to join Karen at her apartment, and he was on his way back already. The late breakfast at Karen’s had been fine; she was a good cook and Jon enjoyed that side of her as much as anything. But her ten-year-old pride and joy, Larry, had a dentist’s appointment at four, and, of course, Karen had to drive the kid there and be by his side throughout the great ordeal. And so Jon had been rushed through the breakfast, forced into throwing those delicious eggs and sausage down his throat as if he was shoveling coal into a boiler.
“Why,” Jon had asked her, through a mouthful of eggs, “did you ask me over if you were in such a goddamn hurry? You didn’t say anything about the kid’s teeth on the phone.”
“What’re you bitching about?” she had said. “The price is right, isn’t it? I thought maybe you’d lower yourself to go along with me when I take Larry to his dental appointment.”
“That’s my idea of a good time,” he’d said.
“Oh,” she’d said angrily, “go read a comic book.”
Larry had been sitting at the table the whole time and the kid would flash an innocent smile now and then, batting his lashes at Jon. Larry had red hair and freckles and big brown eyes, like the kids in paintings you can buy prints of by sending in three toilet paper wrappers and a dollar-fifty. Jon hated Larry.