'Ouch,' Herb said, 'that was awful close to an actual insult.'
'I may need a hug, Herb.'
'I'm here for you. At least until Lunch Mates sets you up with someone. Did I mention how darling you looked in that sweater?'
'Aren't there any doughnuts left you should be attending to?'
Benedict's eyes lit up and he attacked the box. I washed down two aspirin with the last of my coffee, and then was forced to refill it with the sludge from the hallway vending machine. When I returned, Herb had valiantly triumphed over an eclair and had begun poring over the letters we'd taken from Theresa Metcalf's room. I sat down, stretched my leg, and attacked the appointment book.
It was a typical Day-Timer, every date in the month with a page of its own. There was an address book at the beginning, which was mostly blank except for a few unlabeled phone numbers that would have to be checked out.
Going page by page, I came across many notes and appointments involving her canceled wedding. She'd met with several caterers, bakeries, florists, photographers, etc. Again, all would need to be interviewed.
Every seven days she wrote down her work schedule, which hardly varied one week to the next. Birthdays for both Elisa and Johnny Tashing, her ex, were labeled in advance. There had been two dentist appointments and a doctor's visit, but it hadn't been to the late Dr. Booster's office. She'd also written in her dates with Johnny, which ended abruptly on April 29, when she wrote PIG! next to his name and underlined it.
Also in April were two meetings with someone named Harry. Just that name and a time -- six o'clock in both cases. Once was on the twentieth, and once on the twenty-eighth. Nothing else about Harry, or Johnny, from then until present.
I called up Elisa and asked if she knew anyone named Harry, from back in April. She said she didn't.
'Any mention of anyone named Harry in the letters?' I asked Benedict.
'Nope. But her ex-boyfriend had a real flair for the romantic. 'Your breasts are like two ice cream scoops, and I want to lick them up.''
'Isn't that Shakespeare?'
'Yeah. King Lear.'
'Does he seem like a wacko?'
'No more so than any other hormone-crazed guy who wants to get laid. He says 'I love you' a lot, and it seems sincere. Most of these letters are from when they just started dating. They'd been going out for a few years.'
I set the appointment book aside and dove into the canceled checks. There was a big stack of them, dating back to 1994. Luckily they were in chronological order.
There was nothing unusual for the last few months. Rent, gas, phone, electric, groceries, clothes, all the normal things people pay for. Then, when I got to April, something abnormal.
She'd written two checks for two hundred dollars each to a man named Harry McGlade.
I frowned and showed them to Benedict.
'Sounds familiar. Cop?'
I nodded. 'Used to be. Private now.'
'You know him?'
I nodded again and extended my frown. I hadn't seen McGlade in fifteen years.
Fifteen very pleasant years.
'So Theresa must have hired him for something. I wonder what for.'
'The mind boggles. I can't see anyone hiring Harry for anything.'
'Something to do with the boyfriend?'
I shrugged. Only one way to find out, unfortunately.
'I'll go pay him a visit,' I conceded. 'You want to tackle the boyfriend?'
'I may do just that. You sure you don't want to tag-team them?'
'I'd rather meet with McGlade one on one.'
'I sense some history here, Jack, that you aren't telling me about.'
'Let's just say he's not my favorite person.'
Which may have been the understatement of my life.
Chapter 25
THE ASPIRIN WASN'T HELPING MY LEG much and I felt every bump and crack in the road during the ride to McGlade's. A call to the phone company had confirmed his address to be the same as it was fifteen years back, when I'd last busted him.
He lived in Hyde Park, near the Museum of Science and Industry and the University of Chicago. Hyde Park wasn't really a park at all, but a multitude of apartment buildings sectioned off from shops and stores, sort of like a housing development.
I parked in front of a hydrant next to his building. A group of teenagers hanging out on the corner made me as a cop and walked off as I struggled to get out of my car. I suppose I was just cursed to look like an authority figure.
