She nestled his hand inside hers. His head jerked, staring down at the two joined hands.
“Thought you’d be gone. Thought you’d left me.”
Edna drew in her breath. “I went to visit my mother, Eliot. We talked.”
“But you came back.”
The moment she hesitated before speaking seemed as if it lasted an eternity. “To get my things.” She placed her other hand on the side of his head, slowly turning it to face her. “But I am leaving you, Eliot.”
He looked at her helplessly. “Why?”
“Don’t bother arguing with me. I can’t imagine that you really care, even in this sad state. You just don’t want to acknowledge what a disaster this marriage has been. Or how little you’ve given to it. I don’t blame you, Eliot. Honestly, I don’t. But there’s nothing in this life for me. I want more out of life. I want to feel like I’m really living. I want to be loved.”
“You-promised-”
“Please don’t start that.” She released his hand and rose. “I would’ve left already, but I didn’t think I’d see you tonight any more than I have the past week.”
“The raids… busy…”
“Yes, I know. You’re always busy. But not with me, Eliot. Never with me.”
“I can do better. I can-”
“Please stop. You’ve made this promise a thousand times, and you never follow through. And do you know why? Because you don’t really want to. Because you like your life apart from me much better than you like your life with me.”
“Edna, no…”
“It’s better this way, Eliot. Honest it is. Better for both of us.”
“At least… stay tonight.”
She walked to the back room, retrieved her suitcase, and started toward the door. “No, I don’t think so. Best that I leave immediately, since you’ve so kindly brought me the car. I’m taking it. I’ll send for the rest of my things.” She lingered by the door a moment. “Goodbye, Eliot. I hope you find someone who can give you whatever it is you need. What you never found with me. I really do.”
And then she was gone.
Ness fell forward, tears streaming from his eyes. He grabbed the newspaper on the table and ripped it to shreds.
A postcard fell out from between the folds.
The front was a city view of Cleveland, just like all the others. It was addressed to “Eliot Ridiculous-Ness.”
Ness screamed with rage. He flung himself against the mantel, knocking off the candlesticks and framed pictures. He screamed again, kicking the coffee table so hard it splintered. Then he fell down face first on the sofa, pounding it with his fists.
He remained there the rest of the night.
The message on the postcard was: GOTCHA.
And signed: YOUR PARANOIDAL-NEMESIS.
57
The mayor did not wait for Ness to open his office door.
“Eliot, what in the name of all that’s holy is going on?”
Ness looked up at him slowly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean-” He stopped in midsentence, staring. “Eliot-have you been drinking?”
“Course not.”
“You look horrible. You need a shave.”
“I… had a rough night.” He pushed himself to his feet and tried to stay steady.
“I don’t doubt it. I read what those newspapers had to say. Vile stuff. After all you’ve done for the city. But the fact is, people are scared. They want this monster caught.”
“So do I.”
“But you haven’t been able to bring him in. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s your fault. But this is politics.”
“I thought it was law enforcement.”
“Either way, sometimes you have to toss the people a scapegoat. Cut off the feet to save the head.”
“Am I the feet or the head?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
Ness took a few baby steps around his desk, stopping when he got to the mayor. He looked at him through bleary eyes. “You’ve been talking to Congressman Sweeney, haven’t you?”
Mayor Burton harrumphed. “I’m not sure I’d call it talking. More like listening. He’s very angry.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“First you pull that stunt with his cousin.”
“Best suspect we ever had.”
“Did you ever consider consulting me before you started grilling him?”
“You haven’t been taking my calls.”
“Then you go and torch Shantytown, again without consulting with me first. Then you pull these raids that you and I both know wouldn’t survive judicial scrutiny. Even if you did find the killer we might not be able to convict him.”
“I had all that covered.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The point is, Sweeney is our political opponent, and you’ve been giving him the ammunition to destroy us like it was his birthday.”
“My job is not political.”
“Don’t be infantile, Eliot. You’ve created a serious problem. I’m forced to make a serious response. Much as it pains me-”
“So I’m going to be the scapegoat?”
“You’ve brought this on yourself.”
“I did everything you appointed me to do. And then some.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? But sometimes, everything is not enough. These people play hardball.”
Ness flopped down in the easy chair, sitting sideways and twisting his legs over the arm. “You’re afraid of Sweeney.”
“That’s right, Eliot. I am. And with good reason. I’d like to continue being mayor a while longer, and that man stands between me and what I want. Do you have any idea how powerful he is? How many people he has to do his bidding? How much money he has at his disposal?”
Ness pressed his fingers against his mouth, stifling a hiccup. “I didn’t know congressmen made that much money.”
“Congressmen? What’s that got to do with it? He was born rich. The Sweeneys made their pile years ago, back before Prohibition.”
“Mobsters?”
“No. Perfectly legit. Had a brewery on the riverfront. Not far from where you and your men made your illegal raids.”
Ness sat up, suddenly alert. “Near Kingsbury Run?”
“Not too far.”
“What happened to it?”
“Closed it down when Prohibition came. Took their profits and invested them. Not in the stock market, lucky for them. In land. They’re one of the biggest landlords in all of-”
“Do they still own the brewery?”
“Far as I know. I don’t think they could sell it if they wanted to.”
“And it’s still closed down?”
“Absolutely. Boards on the windows.”
“No one goes there? Large open place? Far from prying eyes?”
“I suppose.”
“Drainage into the lake?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Ness was already halfway into his coat. “I’ll be out of the office for a while.”
“I’m not finished talking to you!”
“You can fire me tomorrow. Or I’ll resign. Whatever you like. Doesn’t matter.”
“Eliot, you’re not making sense. Come back here!”
“Sorry,” Ness said, closing the door behind him. “I’ve got work to do.”
58
It was well past dark by the time he finally located the old abandoned Sweeney brewery. Knowing that it was near Kingsbury and on the shore of the Cuyahoga still left a lot of territory to cover. Most of the buildings in this area were worn out or shut down. Still, Ness reminded himself, he was a trained investigator. Even if he wasn’t in the best possible condition, some things worked instinctively. He tracked it down and confirmed that he was right with a quick phone call.
He considered calling for more officers, but talked himself out of it. It was clear now that there was a leak. Someone was feeding information to the press. Even after he dramatically purged the police department, there was still someone spitting out the skinny on his activities, his hotel room interrogation, the fire warden raids in the Kingsbury neighborhood. He couldn’t take the risk of tipping off the killer-or feeding the press information about yet another failure.