Masters took a sip of Beam and another slug of beer. “Last I checked, Janet Woods was your client. You need to see her, give her a call.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, Dan. Does she know I’m out yet?”
A shake of the head.
“Tell her. Then tell her I want to sit down and talk.”
“About what?”
“I’ll explain it when we all sit down. Just tell her I need to talk.”
Masters flexed his shoulders and finished his whiskey. The detective sensed deeper waters in our conversation. Like any cop, he wanted to steer clear. Until he knew exactly how deep.
“Stay on your cell. I’ll talk to her tonight and see what’s up.” Masters got up to go and stopped. Then he sat back down, pulled out an item from inside his overcoat, and put it on the table.
“Almost forgot. One more thing you might be interested in.”
The cover was faded, the corners rounded and white with wear and tear. I opened up the Sheehan’s and saw a red 4 stamped inside.
“Where’d you get this?”
“Taylor. Told me to give it to you if I saw you in jail.”
There was an envelope tucked inside the book. My name was written on it. The script was that of a young girl, a lot of rounded letters, and she used circles instead of dots for her i’s.
The note inside the envelope, like the girl herself, was anything but young.
Kelly,
I hate and I love. So much to say there and so little time to say it. I hated my stepfather and now he’s dead. Thank you for that. I loved the way you care about my mom. And tried to help us. I thought you might want to have this book as a keepsake. Not sure what it means. But it meant an awful lot to Johnny.
Till I see you,
Taylor
I read the note once, then again. Trying to see the spider inside the web. Hoping to find it before it found me. Then I closed up the Sheehan’s and drummed my fingers across the cover.
“Did Taylor tell you how she got the book?”
“Says her step-dad gave it to her. He must have taken it from the house on Hudson. Probably figured it would be safe with Taylor.”
“In case the mayor came calling?”
Masters smiled. “I’m guessing Johnny Woods liked his insurance.”
“Didn’t work too well for him last night,” I said.
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know how the book ties in, but if there’s hell to be raised, I’m sure you’ll do it. Just cut Rodriguez in for the glory if you can.”
“Sure.”
The detective threw a few dollars on the table and got up a second time.
“Masters…”
The cop rocked a bit in his heels and jingled a few coins in his pocket.
“I didn’t kill Johnny,” I said. “Still not sure who did.”
“So tread lightly?”
“Exactly.”
“Not a problem, Kelly. There’s one thing, however, you need to understand.”
“What’s that?”
The cop leaned close. Like only a cop can. “Janet loves me. They both do. And that counts for a lot these days.”
Before I could say anything more, Dan Masters turned and left. I ordered another pint and opened up the Sheehan’s Taylor had wanted me to have. It didn’t seem any different from the copy I’d looked through at the historical society. That was before I took a closer look at the binding-and found the book within the book.
CHAPTER 37
I headed home and slept in my own bed. I woke up about ten p.m. It was quiet in my apartment. Nothing but the tick of the clock and the muffled sounds of traffic from the street below. I thought about my bunkmate in Cook County, how close I had come to a permanent berth there. Not a good thing to think about, so I stopped. Then I thought about the Sheehan’s and the document I had prized out of its binding. Both were now sitting in front of me, looking up at me, asking what I planned to do next. I picked up the document and felt its weight. Read through it for the fifth or sixth time, drinking in each word, then rubbing my thumb lightly along the faded print.
After a while, I folded up the document and put it under lock and key. Then I made a pot of coffee and pulled out the prints Fred Jacobs had sent me a night earlier. Laid them on the table beside the Sheehan’s. I picked up the phone. Rodriguez answered on the first ring.
“You just sit by the phone all night?”
“Heard you were out, Kelly.”
“There was a guy I shared a cell with,” I said. “First name is Marcus.”
“He’s in Cook County hospital. Three broken ribs and a busted spleen. Nice work.”
“He’s a killer. You want the case?”
Rodriguez did, so I gave him the details.
“He told you he killed this woman in 1998?” the detective said.
“Somewhere around there. I got the idea she was an old girlfriend. You should be able to find her in the cold files. When you do, tell Marcus it was courtesy of me.”
“You guys really got along, huh?”
“Best of pals. If you can, drop the tip to Fred Jacobs before you go public. I owe him.”
“Okay. What else you got for me?”
“Are we still working together?”
“Depends. Did you kill Woods?”
“What do you think?”
“I think no. Course, doesn’t help that you were playing around with the dead guy’s wife.”
“You heard that too, huh?”
“Half of Johnny Woods’ block saw you two. Duking it out at six in the morning.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“I told you. I don’t believe you killed him. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I need a favor.”
The detective paused. “Is it about Dan Masters?”
“What do you know about Dan?” I said.
“I know enough. What I don’t know is why.”
Rodriguez knew Masters had pulled the gun that killed Johnny Woods out of Evidence. I wasn’t sure how. But I wasn’t surprised either.
“The whys might have to wait,” I said. “Maybe a day or so.”
“Have you talked to Masters?”
“This afternoon. I’m waiting on a call back right now.”
Rodriguez hesitated, but not as long as you might think. “What is it you need?” he said.
“Remember the lift you took off my window?”
“The night of the break-in?”
“Yeah. I have a set of prints I need you to run it against.”
“The print from your flat was a partial. Not enough points to bring into court.”
“This isn’t about court, Vince.”
Rodriguez chewed on that for a while. “Think I’m going to have to know a little bit more.”
So I told him. A little bit more. Then I e-mailed him the set of prints Jacobs had sent me, along with a photo of the person they belonged to. After that I headed back to bed. Dan Masters hadn’t called back to set up my meeting with Janet. I hadn’t expected him to.
CHAPTER 38
I got in my car on Monday morning and accelerated onto Lake Shore Drive, heading south through traffic. You’d never know it by looking around, but it was against the law in Chicago to use a cell while you were driving. And with good reason. I almost hit an SUV or three as I flipped open my phone and wrestled a business card out of my wallet. It was red with yellow stars.
Hubert Russell’s machine picked up, but he cut in before I could leave a message.
“Hello?”
“Hubert.”
“I don’t know this number.”
“It’s Michael Kelly. The guy who asked to see the Chicago Fire records.”
“Mr. Kelly. Sorry, I don’t get a lot of calls I don’t recognize. What’s up?”
“I got a computer question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s actually more like a hacking question.”
“Even better.”
“You told me there wasn’t a computer made you couldn’t crack.”
“That’s right.”
“How’d you like to prove it?”
There was only a slight pause before Hubert came back over the line.
“I assume this is illegal.”
“You assume correctly,” I said. “It’s also for a good cause.”