“Of course not,” I agreed. “Coalitions, changing loyalties, that’s the name of the game. But Boots isn’t ready to turn in his chips yet. So say he went to Roz. If he put her on the ticket, she’d bring in Humboldt Park and Pilsen for him-she’s gold here. In return he’d see that Alma got a big piece of county action. They drop their discrimination suits, tie in with a dummy corporation, the work will really go to Wunsch and Grasso, who will share out the profits and everybody’s happy. Alma doesn’t do a lick of work on the Ryan-I’ve been there and seen it. They got the bid, they pay everything out to a dummy corporation, and let Wunsch and Grasso supply the equipment and the personnel.”
“You don’t have any proof of this, none at all. It’s a total fabrication,” Camellia Maldonado said hotly. “Whatever Velma said of you you’re ten times worse.”
I got up. “I’m not going to stay to fight it. I’m beat. I just wanted to give Roz a chance to answer before I go to the papers. There’s one more thing I don’t understand, though.”
“One?” Velma spat out. “Just one? I thought you understood the whole universe, Warshawski.”
I ignored her. “I don’t know why Roz thought a story like this would hurt her chances on the ticket. It’s just business as usual in this old town. When the story finally breaks the good old boys will breathe a collective sigh that she’s not a flaming radical, that she’s one of them after all.”
I turned on my heel, not listening to the three of them shouting at me. Camellia ran to the door on pencil-heels and grabbed my arm.
“You must tell us what proof you have of this terrible allegation. You can’t come in here and drop such a bomb and then just walk off.”
I rubbed my eyes tiredly. “It’s all there. You just have to go to the Ryan and look at their part of the zone. Although maybe now they know I’ve been there they’ll bring in a few minority or women workers for the photographers. But the real kicker is to visit their offices. They’re a sham. There’re only three desks occupied in the whole place. You don’t run a big business out of a cubbyhole, at least not a contracting business.”
Camellia looked at me with such anger that it made my knees feel wobbly. “I’ve worked for Roz’s success for a long time,” she hissed. “You’re not going to be able to ruin her with your lies.”
“Great,” I said. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
I glanced back at Velma, sitting in the swivel chair. She didn’t say anything, but dropped her gaze to the desktop. Camellia followed me to the big front room. She was too savvy a campaigner to let the hired hands see a crisis was in the works. She shook hands formally with me at the door, gave me a big smile, and said she’d be sure to let Roz know we’d spoken.
39
Death Rattle
When I got back to the Chevy I
Peppy, curled in the front seat, gave me a look of disgust when I got in. She didn’t deign to lift her head- after three hours in the car she didn’t think I was good for much.
“Sorry, girl,” I apologized. “We’ll go home now, General Motors willing.”
The Chevy was grinding horribly even at twenty-five. I forced it forward like a knight with a battle-shy horse. It went about as happily. With the car whining and screaming I couldn’t follow the frantic line of thought I’d started at Roz’s any further. Aside from the noise, I was too nervous that the car might stop altogether to be able to think about anything else.
When I turned onto Racine it went on me, going from a brain-shattering whine to a lurching rattle to a final dead silence. I turned the ignition key. The engine ground horribly but wouldn’t catch. Behind me cars were honking furiously-it’s well known that the best cure for a stalled engine is for a hundred thousand drivers to blow their horns in unison.
I was less than three blocks from home. If I could push the Chevy to the curb, I could leave it there for a tow truck and walk home with Peppy. Peppy had other ideas. When I opened the door she bounded across the set divider and outside so fast I was just able to grab a hind leg before she hurled herself in front of a delivery van. I wrestled her to the ground and dragged her back into the front seat.
“You gotta wait five more minutes,” I told her. She wasn’t buying it. Usually the most docile of dogs, she snarled at me now and I had to wrap her leash around the seat divider to keep her in the car. She stood on the passenger seat barking at me furiously.
My legs had cramped up from tensing them so hard while I drove. When I stood up I almost fell over. I steadied myself against the car door.
“Neither of us is in good shape, are we?” I murmured to the Chevy. “I promise I won’t sell you for scrap if you’ll do the same for me.”
Cars were moving around me now that they saw I was stalled, but the ones farther back kept up their honking. I was too tired to react to the insistent blare. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the doorframe, I tried pushing the car to the curb. Too much strain in the last few days had left my shoulders so weak that I couldn’t urge the extra force into them to muscle the car forward.
I leaned my forehead against the roof. Someone across the street was adding to the cacophony on Racine. I ignored him along with the rest until finally over the din of the traffic I heard my name.
“Vic! Vic! You need some help?”
It was Rick York, Vinnie’s friend, at the wheel of a VW. I darted across the traffic to explain my plight to him. Vinnie was sitting in the passenger seat with his head pointedly turned away-he clearly didn’t think Rick should have tried so hard to get my attention.
“Do you think you could push me up the street. If I can get it back to our place, I can leave it for a tow in the morning.”
“Sure, just let me turn around,” Rick said, in the same breath that Vinnie announced they were going to be late if they waited around any longer.
“Aw, don’t be a turdhead, Vinnie, This’ll take us five minutes.”
I sprinted back to the Chevy, feeling refreshed just by an offer of help, and waited for Rick to come up behind me. Peppy didn’t like this new development at all. She left off barking to leap into the backseat and whimper, then plunged back into the front seat. I undid her collar to keep her from choking, but she jumped around so much that I had a hard time keeping an eye on traffic at the intersections.
I coasted into an empty patch across from my building. Rick honked twice and took off without waiting for my thanks. In the morning I’d find out where he lived and order a bottle of champagne for him. His kindness took the edge off my fatigue, enough so that I was able to give Peppy her due and walk her over to the inner harbor and back.
When I finally returned her to Mr. Contreras it was past eight. He was beside himself: “Let alone I don’t know if you’re alive or dead, I don’t even know where you’ve gone to come bail you out. And don’t tell me you don’t need my help. Where would you of been last year if I hadn’t known where to come hunting for you? Even if you don’t want me, you might spare a little thought for the princess here. And then people come calling on you what am I supposed to tell them?”
I ignored the bulk of his diatribe. “Just say I’m a secretive bitch who doesn’t give you a printout of my agenda every day. Who came calling?”
“Couple of guys. They didn’t leave their names-just said they’d be back later.”
His disclaimers to the contrary, my neighbor could identify any man who’d come to visit me in the past three years. If he didn’t know these guys, they were strangers.
“Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses. How’d you come to let them in? They ring your bell?”
“Yeah, they said they got the floor wrong.”
