McGonnigal stopped again to make sure I was following. He emphasized his next words carefully. “He finally said-after hours of talk, and many promises to the parents that we wouldn’t subpoena him or publish the news-that what scared him about the guy was that Zorro had got him. Why Zorro? It seems this guy had some kind of mark on his face. That’s all he knows: He saw it, panicked, and ran for his life. Doesn’t know if the guy saw him or not.”
“Sounds like a good lead,” I commented politely. “All you have to do is find a big black car and a man with a mark on his face, and ask him if he knows Zorro.”
McGonnigal looked sharply at me. “We police are not total idiots, Miss Warshawski. It’s not something we can take to court, because of promising the parents and the lawyers. Anyway, the testimony isn’t very good. But Zorro-you know, Zorro’s mark is a big Z, and the lieutenant and I wondered if you knew anyone with a big Z on his face?”
I felt my face twitch. Earl’s gofer, Tony, had had such a scar. I shook my head. “Should I?”
“Not too many guys with that kind of mark. We thought it might be Tony Bronsky. He got cut like that by a guy named Zav who objected to Tony taking away his girl friend seven-eight years ago. He hangs around Earl Smeissen these days.”
“Oh?” I said. “Earl and I aren’t exactly social friends, Sergeant-I don’t know all his companions.”
“Well, the lieutenant thought you’d like to know about it. He said he knew you’d sure hate for anything to happen to the little Thayer girl while you were looking after her.” He got back into his car.
“The lieutenant has a fine sense of drama,” I called after him. “He’s been watching too many Kojak reruns late at night. Tell him that from me.”
McGonnigal drove off and I walked the rest of the way home. I’d completely lost interest in exercise. Lotty and Jill had already left. I took a long, hot shower, easing my leg muscles and thinking over McGonnigal’s message. It didn’t surprise me that Earl was involved in John Thayer’s death. I wondered if Jill really was in any danger, though. And if she was, was she worse off with Lotty and me? I toweled dry and weighed myself. I was down two pounds, surprising with all the starch I’d been eating lately.
I went into the kitchen to squeeze some orange juice. There was one way in which Jill was worse off with me, I realized. If Earl decided I needed to be blown away completely, she’d make a perfect hostage for him. I suddenly felt very cold.
Nothing I was doing was getting me anyplace-unless Thayer’s execution could be called a destination. I couldn’t tie McGraw to Masters or Thayer. I didn’t have a clue about Anita. The one person who might supply me with anything was McGraw, and he wouldn’t. Why the hell had he come to me in the first place?
On impulse I looked up the Knifegrinders’ number in the white pages and dialed. The receptionist transferred me to Mildred. I didn’t identify myself but asked for McGraw. He was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed.
“It’s important,” I said. “Tell him it concerns Earl Smeissen and John Thayer.”
Mildred put me on hold. I studied my fingernails. They needed filing. At last the phone clicked and McGraw’s husky voice came on the line.
“Yes? What is it?” he asked.
“This is V. I. Warshawski. Did you finger Thayer for Earl?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I told you to stay out of my business.”
“You dragged me in in the first place, McGraw. You made it my business. Now I want to know, did you finger Thayer for Earl?”
He was quiet.
“One of Earl’s men shot Thayer. You brought Thayer’s name into this to begin with. You’ve hedged about why. Did you want to be sure he got dragged into the case from the beginning? You were afraid the police might jump on Anita, and you wanted to make sure his name got in the pot? Then what-he threatened to squeal, and you asked Earl to kill him just in case?”
“Warshawski, I got a tape running. You make any more accusations like this and I could see you in court.”
“Don’t try it, McGraw: They might subpoena the rest of your tapes.”
He slammed the phone down. I didn’t feel any better.
I dressed in a hurry, but checked the Smith & Wesson carefully before putting it in my shoulder holster. My continuing hope was that Earl thought he’d rendered me negligible, and that he’d continue thinking so until I’d unraveled enough truth to make it too late for any other action he might take. But I took no chances, leaving the apartment from the rear and circling the block to come to my car. The coast was still clear.
I decided to abandon Loop bars and go to the Knifegrinders’ neighborhood. I could return to the Loop tomorrow if necessary. On my way north I stopped at the clinic. Although it was early in the day, the waiting room was already full. I again walked past the baleful glares from those who had been sitting for an hour.
“I need to talk to Lotty,” I said abruptly to Carol. She took one look at my face and got Lotty out of the examining room. I quickly explained to her what had happened. “I don’t want to get Jill upset,” I said, “but I don’t want to feel like we’re sitting on a land mine here.”
Lotty nodded. “Yes, but what’s to stop them from taking her out of the Thayer house?” she asked. “If they decide she would be a good hostage, I’m afraid they could get her wherever she was. It is not your peace of mind, but Jill’s we need to think of. And I think she’s better down here for another couple of days. Until her father’s funeral, anyway; she called the in other-the funeral won’t be until Friday.”
“Yes, but, Lotty, I’m running against the clock here. I’ve got to keep going, I can’t sit guarding Jill.”
“No.” She frowned, then her face cleared. “Carol’s brother. Big, bruising, good-natured guy. He’s an architecture student at Circle-maybe he can come and watch out for thugs.” She called to Carol, who listened eagerly to the problem, threw up her hands at the thought of Jill in danger, but agreed that Paul would be glad to come and help. “He looks mean and stupid,” she said. “A perfect disguise, since he is really friendly and brilliant.”
I had to be satisfied with that, but I wasn’t happy: I’d have liked to ship Jill up to Wisconsin until everything was over.
I went on north and drove around the Knifegrinder territory, staking out my route for the day. There weren’t nearly as many bars here as there were in the Loop. I picked a twenty-block square and decided to keep the car. This morning, no matter what sort of ill will it raised in the bars, I was not going to drink. I cannot face beer before noon. Or even Scotch.
I started at the west end of my territory, along the Howard el tracks. The first place, Clara’s, looked so down-at-the-heels, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into it. Surely someone as fastidious as Masters looked would not go to a dump like that. On the other hand, maybe that’s the kind of place he’d want-something that no one would associate with him. I braced my shoulders and pushed into the gloom out of the sticky air.
By noon I’d drawn nine blanks and was beginning to think I’d come up with a truly rotten idea, one that was wasting a lot of valuable time as well. I would finish my present stint, but not go back for a second crack at the Loop. I called the clinic. Carol’s brother was in residence, enchanted by Jill and helping entertain some seven toddlers. I told Lotty I was going to stay where I was and to give my apologies to Jill.
By now the humid, polluted heat was stifling. I felt as though I were being pushed to the earth by it every time I walked back outside. The smell of stale beer in the bars began to nauseate me. Everyplace I went into had a few pathetic souls riveted to their stools, sipping down one drink after another, even though it was only morning. I was meeting with the same variety of hostility, indifference, and cooperation that I’d found downtown, and the same lack of recognition of my photos.