'That's much easier than blaming the parents.'
'I'm serious. Think about how gang violence would be reduced if they all listened to Perry Como.'
'Reduced? I think they'd riot. Hell, I'd riot.'
Ninety-sixth Street had more potholes than asphalt, and Herb cringed every time his car took a dip. Andrews's apartment building was the nicest one on the block, but that didn't mean much. Graffiti still colored the sidewalk and walls, and three divots in the front door were obvious bullet holes.
Herb parked directly in front of the building, on the street. Our leather badge cases had cords attached, and we hung our stars around our necks. I got out of the car, feeling the same sense of uneasiness I always felt when on the South Side, being a white female cop. None of those traits were looked upon with respect here.
Herb turned to me. 'What's your take on this?'
I knew what he meant. It was unlikely Davi McCormick got her drugs from Colin, unless he made frequent visits to the Gold Coast -- dealers tend to stay local. And two severed arms planted in the county morgue wasn't your typical gang-related or drug-related crime.
'The calls from her apartment were to his cell phone. Maybe we'll get lucky.'
The security door had a broken lock, allowing us an easy entry. The lobby reeked of heat and decay. More graffiti tags marked the walls, and someone had shattered two of the three hallway lights.
Colin Andrews rented an apartment on the first floor. The number had been removed from the door, but we figured it out by counting.
Herb rapped his knuckle on the door.
'Colin Andrews? Chicago PD.'
No answer.
'Mr. Andrews, this is the police. We'd like to ask you some questions. It's in your best interest to open the door.'
'How it my best interest letting cops in?'
'Because if you don't talk to us,' Benedict said, 'we'll start knocking on all of your neighbors' doors. It would be hard for you to live here if everyone thought you were a police snitch.'
'I ain't no damn snitch.'
We waited. I noticed Herb had his hand near his holster, and realized that mine had drifted there as well.
After a minute, the door opened a crack. A brown eye squinted out at us.
'What this about?'
I smiled pleasantly. 'You want everyone to see you talking to us in the hall?'
He opened the door.
The apartment was air-conditioned, neat, nicely furnished. An entertainment center crammed full of state-of- the-art equipment sat next to a wide-screen TV.
Colin stood about Benedict's height, but rail thin. He wore an oversized Steelers jersey and a thick gold chain around his neck that seemed to weigh him down.
'Business must be good.' I eyed his place, annoyed that the crooks always had better stuff than I did.
Colin shrugged.
'Colin?' A woman's voice came from one of the back rooms. 'Who's there?'
'No one, Mama. Stay in your room.'
'Mama know you deal?' I asked.
'I don't deal. That's all a big misunderstanding.'
I fished through the pockets of my blazer and took out a folded head shot of Davi McCormick.
'Do you recognize this woman?'
I watched Colin's face. He glanced at the photo without changing his expression.
'Never saw her.'
'She called your cell phone a few days ago.'
'Don't got no cell phone.'
I read the phone number to him.
'Don't got that phone no more. Lost it.'
'When did you lose it?'
'Couple weeks ago.'
Herb bent down, reaching for Colin's foot.
'I think you dropped something, Colin. Well -- lookee here.'
Herb held up the bag of powdered sugar.
'Dog, that ain't mine!'
