True Crime

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“A kidnapping. Do you want to be part of that?”

“No,” she said. But she didn’t seem sure, as if I was posing some abstract problem that went way over her head.

“Forget Ma and Paula and all of them. Got it?”

“Why?”

“Because those people are going to be in trouble. You don’t want to be in trouble, do you?”

Her face fell, her eyes got even wider. “Why…you’re not going to rat on them…”

“Never mind what I’m going to do,” I said, dialing again.

Busy signal.

“I don’t want you to rat on them,” she said. “Jim. Please don’t.”

“You’re with me, now, remember?”

“Jim…”

“Are you with me now?”

“Yes…”

“Then you’ve got to go along with me. You went along with Candy Walker, you can go along with me, for Christ’s sake.”

“Please don’t yell at me, Jim. Please don’t yell.”

I didn’t know I was.

“Sorry,” I said.

She stood; leaned her hands against the desk, and those big brown eyes I loved so much begged me. “Jim, if you call the police, leave Ma and Paula and Dolores and Helen out of it. Please. You got to promise.”

“Okay. I promise.” But I was thinking about the police she’d mentioned. Maybe I should call them. But I figured Cowley and Purvis would want to handle this themselves; it would mean the difference to them between a feather in the cap or a major embarrassment. Squelching the kidnapping themselves beat hell out of having the local cops pull their director’s butt off the burner.

And I could use Purvis and Cowley’s goodwill—I was involved in this just deep enough to need to explain myself, and better them than the Chicago cops, Christ! I was an accomplice in the murder of Dr. Joseph Moran, if you got right down to it. You could make a case—a convincing one—for me being part of the kidnap ring. But time was slipping away—if the snatch went down, I wouldn’t just be up shit creek, I’d be drowning in it. Maybe I should call the cops anyway; take my chances with Chicago’s finest—hell, I hadn’t been fed the goldfish in weeks.

The number at the Banker’s Building was still busy.

It was six-ten.

I got up and pulled the Murphy bed down.

“Jim! What are you doing?”

Now she thought I was a sex fiend.

“Are you sure this is all right with your friend…?”

“It’s fine with him. And it ain’t whoopee time, so relax. You’re just going to take a rest. I have to step out for a while.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just a few blocks over. I got an appointment.”

“But what if your friend comes back?”

“It’ll be okay.” I sat her on the edge of the bed. “Just catch a nap. Okay?”

“Jim, I’m so confused…what’s going on? What’s this about?” She had tears in her eyes.

Shit.

Without knowing it, without meaning to, I’d joined the club: joined the ranks of men who’d abused this girl, pushed her around, hurt her. Damnit. Fuck. Shit.

I sat down on the bed next to her. Slipped an arm around her. “I won’t be gone long. Just stay here and take it easy. Tomorrow, I’m going to take you to see your daddy.”

“Do you think that’s for the best?”

“I do.”

“But you said I should leave the past behind me, Jim.”

“Some things you simply got to face before you can put ’em behind you. Now, I’m going to be with you, all the way. Right at your side. And then we’re coming back to the big city and find you some honest work. In fact, my friend who runs this office just might be able to use a secretary, at that. Would that suit you?”

She smiled, but it was forced. “Sure, Jim. Any friend of yours…”

I kissed her cheek, and she grabbed me, clutched at me. Kissed me hard on the mouth. There was more desperation than passion in it, and I held her close to me, hugged her close, and whispered in her ear, “I’m not