“Lich? He stopped in briefly, but I think he went home. He’s in the newly divorced club as well, and not for the first time, either.”
“Man, marriage-not exactly a solid institution is it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There’re lots of people who make it work. I’m just glad we didn’t have kids. How about you?”
“Kids? No, although it’s probably what led to the end of things. He was ready. I wasn’t. We had a big blow-up about it, but I refused. Few days later, I come home to find he’s cleaned out his part of the closet and dresser. Said he was staying at a hotel. Couple of weeks later, I got papers from his lawyer and, as they say, the rest is history.”
“I remember now, you were married when we were in law school, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, my ex was a year ahead of me. We’re both lawyers. He figured he could continue with his career, and I’d stay home and be the happy homemaker. I was the prosecutor, in a government job making 50 K and he’s up for partner in Fitzgerald and Bush, making 150 K. We didn’t need my salary, so I should just stay home.” Kennedy shook her head. Mac could relate to a spouse who didn’t value a job where one served the public good.
Mac’s food came just then. He took a bite of the sandwich. “You haven’t always been a prosecutor in Ramsey County, though, have you?”
“No. Just came over in the last couple of months. I was over in Minneapolis, with Hennepin County,” Sally replied, taking a pull from her beer. “Thing was, I kept running into my ex over there. He tries a number of cases. Knows the judges. I knew the judges. Too many rumors going around. Then he started seeing another lawyer I saw all the time, and it got to be a bit much. Ramsey County had a position open, and here I am. But enough about me.” Sally’s voice went quiet. “Let’s talk Mason Johnson.”
“Okay. What happens when Senator Johnson comes in?”
“You mean if he comes in?” Kennedy responded.
“Oh, he’ll be coming in. Question is, how he’ll do it. Voluntarily or involuntarily.”
“What makes you think he’ll do it voluntarily?”
“If I was him, I’d want to get in front of this, especially if I’m innocent, which I’m sure he’ll claim to be.” Kennedy furrowed her brow. “You disagree?” Mac asked.
“I’m not sure. I see what you’re saying. He’d look better if he came in to help.” Kennedy took a drink. “Thing is, he may not know if we know about him. He might be thinking, ‘Why implicate myself if the police don’t know about me?’”
“If that’s the case, he’s gambling we didn’t find Hernandez.” Mac took a sip of his Guiness, looked out the window and continued, “But I see what you’re saying. He’s got to anticipate we’ll find Hernandez. He’s got to think that maybe a neighbor somewhere saw him. That maybe Claire told someone at the station about the relationship, if there was one. Sooner or later we’d get to him. So, why not come out front. My question is whether he’ll seek legal counsel first. If so, how much will his lawyer get in the way?”
Kennedy smiled and nodded. “I’d be stunned if he didn’t show up with legal counsel. Good legal counsel.”
“Of course, Johnson’s an attorney, isn’t he? He might just show up himself.”
Kennedy waved him off. “You know what they say, Mac. A lawyer who represents himself…”
“…I know, I know. He has an idiot for a client.” Mac chuckled, remembering the old maxim from law school.
It was Kennedy’s turn to peer out the window. Then she said, “So how will you handle it if he comes in?”
“I haven’t thought about it much-yet. I suppose it depends upon when and where. I know the chief’s going to call either tonight or tomorrow. I won’t know much until that happens.” Mac finished his sandwich and wiped his fingers with his napkin. “Want another beer?”
“I was thinking about it, but it’s getting late,” Sally said, looking at her watch. “I should get home.”
“Where’s home?”
“I have a little place over in Highland Park. How about you?”
“I’m up on Summit. I have an apartment on the third floor of one of the old mansions, a couple houses south of the James J. Hill mansion.”
“Wow. That’s nice. How’d you swing that?” A hint of skepticism in her voice. Where did a detective get that kind of money?
“It actually doesn’t cost me that much. Family friend. I help out in the summer, mow the grass, trim the hedges-that sort of thing. I look after the place in the winter. She’s a snowbird. She charges me little rent. She doesn’t need the money. Of course, I do, so it’s a good deal.” Mac actually was just fine financially, but he didn’t want people to know that. They might start asking how a detective did so well, which was from a combination of factors, both the Grand Brew and the divorce. Mac had gotten all the investments. Added to the McRyan Pub dividends and his salary, and he was living quite comfortably.
Getting back to business, he said, “I’ll tell you one thing. I’d like to keep my little visit with the senator quiet until we nail this down.”
“Press?”
With a sigh, “Yeah, I’m not a big fan of the media, especially television. And with Daniels the victim, well, this is gonna get ugly.”
“You know, Mac, I’m a hockey fan. I had Gopher student tickets when I was at the U and you were playing. You didn’t seem to mind the media then.”
“That was different. The sports guys weren’t like the rest of the media. They like sports and for the most part knew something about it. They were mostly interested in the real story, especially when they were covering college.” Mac took a last drink from his beer. “Besides, it wasn’t like heads could roll because of them. But the media now?” Mac shook his head. “The newspaper guys are good. They usually take the time to get it right. I’ve always got time for them. Especially, a couple of those old time scribes from the Strib or Pioneer Press that hang around the crime scenes. They’re kind of fun to talk to.”
“Guys who have been doing it for forty years?” Sally added.
“Yeah, exactly. But television? I don’t know about them. It seems like it’s all about entertainment, ratings, looks-less about real news. You have to tell the story, say about our serial killer, in thirty-second sound bites,” Mac said skeptically, shaking his head. “There’s no way to do a good job that quickly, and we usually come out on the short end of the stick. And the thing that really burns me is that, with the exception of a couple of them, most don’t know shit about police work.”
“They don’t know much about the law either,” Kennedy added. “I agree with you, Mac, but they’ll be a fact of life on this case.”
Mac sighed, nodded his head and ran his hand through his thick, blond hair. “I’m afraid you’re right. It’ll be a circus if word about the senator gets out. I’m not looking forward to that.”
Kennedy finished her beer, “You’re right about that. Shall we?”
“Yup.” As they both put on their coats, Mac looked back in the bar to wave good night and saw it immediately. Cops, seven or eight of them, had been watching him and Sally talk. He knew what they were thinking. He could see it in their eyes-Mac’s going to get some. Mac shook his head at them and, with his back turned to Kennedy, mouthed, “Fuck you.” They all just laughed. He turned to Kennedy, who hadn’t noticed, “Where are you parked?”
“Just across the street,” Kennedy nodded out the front window, “The Camry. You?”
“Out back. I’ll walk you across the street. You never know.”
She shared a warm smile. “Thanks.”
They walked across the street in silence. Mac stopped about fifteen feet short of her car. She dug out her keys and continued to the driver’s door. As she opened it, she looked back, flashed him a smile. “I suspect I’ll be seeing a lot of you now?”
The smile, the comment, the way she said that-which could be taken a couple of ways, one of which made Mac’s heart skip a little beat. He played it cool. “I suppose so.”
Kennedy nodded, flashed him another smile and got in her car. Mac turned and walked back across the street. He would be seeing a lot of her most likely and that wasn’t an altogether bad thought. It had been the longest conversation he’d had with a woman since the divorce. As he was walking around to the back of the Pub, he looked in the front window through the MCRYAN’S PUB letters and saw his friends, laughing, waving their arms and giving him the look like he struck out. Mac chuckled. He imagined his couple of beers with Kennedy would be the talk of the town tomorrow. Cops-they loved the gossip. He thought about going back inside and trying to stop it before it started, but he knew better. He’d only make it worse.