perhaps, hanging myself. No such luck. After two more hours of nothing, Rodriguez walked in.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“So soon?”

The detective grimaced and handed me my coat. We didn’t say much more until we had cleared the building and were safely in his car.

“They’re not happy.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” I said.

“They can’t get a handle on any pattern to the shootings. And they definitely don’t like the fact that he cal ed you.”

“And then there’s al those dead people.”

Rodriguez ignored me. “They’re thinking of giving you a new cel phone, one with your old number. If this guy cal s again, they’d be able to trace it. By the way, Rudolph’s worried you might go to the press.”

“Rudolph’s a fucking moron. Not as much of a moron as that profiler, but he’s stil awful y dumb.”

“Yeah, wel, the good news is Lawson thought you’d keep your mouth shut, and that seemed to carry a lot of weight. Stil, it’s the Bureau. They don’t trust anyone. Especial y, anyone inside.”

“Who said I was inside?”

“You’re not. So that’s another point in your favor. At least, it was.”

“What does that mean?”

Rodriguez sighed and spun the wheel. His car scraped onto Halsted Street and accelerated. “Rudolph decided the Bureau doesn’t want to be on the hook alone in case they don’t catch this guy.”

“Let me guess, a task force?”

“Just got off the phone with the mayor and my boss. Local, state, and federal. Lawson is running point.”

“Bet the mayor loved that.”

“I’m the scapegoat for the city.”

“Even better.”

“Fuck you, Kel y. At the end of the cal, Lawson pipes in that she might want you attached to the investigation.”

“As what?”

Rodriguez pul ed his car to the curb in front of a fire hydrant at the corner of Halsted and Adams.

“That’s what the mayor wanted to know. Come on, let’s go.”

Rodriguez popped out of the car and walked across the street. We were in the heart of Greektown, home away from home for out-of-town businessmen looking for a shot of ouzo, a leg of lamb, or a wayward bel y dancer.

We ducked our heads inside a restaurant cal ed Santorini. The bar was warm and fil ed with dark men in starched white shirts with nothing to do. Rodriguez flipped open his badge. The bartender smiled and nodded toward a set of stairs. Rodriguez turned to me.

“He’s at a table upstairs, Kel y.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think? And don’t be an asshole.”

I WALKED UP two flights alone and surfaced in a dining room that was as large as it was empty. A burst of sizzle and flame flared to my left. Two smal Greek men danced around a table, clapping their hands and crying “Oopah” while a third worked on containing the smal inferno he’d created. In the midst of it al, Mayor John J. Wilson sat and scowled. The dish was cal ed saganaki, essential y a piece of cheese doused in booze and set on fire. Wilson had a forkful halfway to his mouth as I approached. The mayor waved me to an empty chair.

“You like this shit, Kel y?”

I shrugged. “It’s fried cheese. What’s not to like?”

“Give him a piece,” Wilson said. The waiter smiled and set another hunk of cheese on fire. After I had my portion, Wilson gave the boys a look, and they disappeared downstairs. We were alone. Just me, the mayor, and our saganaki.

“Feds busting your bal s, Kel y?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

The mayor pointed his fork my way. “How the fuck is it you’re in the middle of this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Coincidence, huh?”

I shrugged. “Could be.”

“You’re a liar.” Wilson cut off another piece of his appetizer and smiled as he chewed. “But that’s okay. Everyone lies.”

“You think so?”

“Sure. In a way, al the bul shit lies restore my faith in human nature.”

“That’s comforting.”

“For what it’s worth, the feds are trying hard to believe you. The female agent, what’s her name?”

“Lawson. Katherine Lawson.”

“Right, Lawson. She thinks you have a connection. But she’s not sure what it is. Anyway, she wants to keep you close. Keep an eye on you. You gonna eat the rest of that?”

I shook my head. The mayor shoveled my saganaki onto his empty plate and continued talking.

“I come here two, three times a week. Sometimes for lunch. Sometimes just to get the fuck away. Listen to these crazy bastards run around, yel

‘Oopah,’ and al that shit. Glass of wine. Good fish here. You like fish?”

“Sure.”

“Me, too. This is a steak town and I love it. But a good piece of fish is tough to beat. Anyway, the Bureau wants you around, but they don’t want you in their way.”

“I’m sure you can understand why.”

“I certainly can. You’re an asshole. Simple as that. Don’t give a fuck who you fuck. Or why. Can’t be reasoned with, et cetera, et cetera. Don’t get me started. I already got some indigestion working. You want dinner?”

“No thanks, Your Honor.”

“Yeah, I don’t real y feel like eating with you, either. So, here it is. The feds are going to use you as their personal piss boy. And you’re not going to like that. Not one bit. Am I right?”

“When you put it that way…”

“Meanwhile, I got some asshole shooting people on the CTA. No rhyme. No reason. Just for the hel of it. And where the fuck does that stop?”

As he spoke, a flush of crimson rose in the mayor’s cheeks, a darker thread of purple pooling in the cracks of his fractured complexion.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Me neither.” The mayor gestured around the empty dining room. “Look at this place. Two nights ago I was in here, and the joint was packed. A week from now, who knows? People get afraid to come out of their house.”

“Or their hotel room.”

“Exactly. You know how much tourist money this kind of thing could cost us?” Wilson took a sip of water and cracked hard on the ice in his mouth.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Mayor?”

Wilson chewed up his ice and swung his head around the empty room. “Stand up for a second.”

I did. The mayor walked behind me and executed a pretty impressive pat down.

“Don’t think you’re anything special. These days I check my wife for a wire before we get into bed at night.”

“Nice life.”

“Yeah, sit down.” I did. Wilson leaned forward and let his jaw hang open so I could see his back teeth. “I need you to work this case for me. Under the radar. No official ties to the city.”

“Just you and me?”

“And Rodriguez. He’l be my eyes and ears with the feds, who, for my money, are gonna get nothing done

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