“Can you just do it with a description? The other person it might have belonged to is the dead girl—the young woman whose family you helped me locate last week. I want to take it down to show her mother in the morning.”
“Conscientious little thing, aren’t you? You ever think of hiring someone to do some of your legwork for you?”
“Every day.” I gestured toward Officer Neely’s stiff back. “Maybe I should talk to her. The pay isn’t that great but it’d make a change from typing reports on cokeheads.”
“Hey, if you don’t have to type reports, start with me,” Finchley protested. He made a careful note of the number of amethysts in the chain and handed it back to me. “I’ll ask Monty and—and give you a call tomorrow if I can.”
His phone started ringing. “Take it easy, Vic.”
“Thanks, Terry. Can I use a phone before I leave?”
He picked up his own receiver and gestured to the desk behind him. I went around the divider and called my answering service.
Lucy Mott had phoned from my lawyer’s office with in formation on Farmworks, Inc.; she hadn’t left details with the answering service. Lotty had called. So had Robin.
I tried my lawyer first. Lucy Mott was gone for the day but Freeman Carter was still there, in conference with a client. The man answering the phone offered to take a message, but when I explained I was at police headquarters and couldn’t ask for a callback, he went to get Carter.
Freeman thought I’d been arrested, of course, and wasn’t too thrilled to learn I was just borrowing a phone. “It’s that kind of tactic that burns your name around town, V.I.,” he grumbled. “But since you’ve taken me out of my meeting I’ll show you how much better my manners are than yours and dig the stuff out now instead of making you wait.”
“I know you’ve got better manners than me, Freeman— that’s why I always stand quiet and serious at your side when I have to go before a judge.”
He left me dangling for five minutes or so. A few more detectives wandered in, people I didn’t know who stopped to talk to Finchley and eye me curiously. Just as Freeman got back on the line Sergeant McGonnigal walked in. When he saw me his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He didn’t wave or detour to see me but kept on his way to Mallory’s door, where he knocked and stuck his head inside. I turned my attention to Freeman.
Farmworks, Inc. was an amazing company—it existed without officers. The only name associated with it on the Lexis system was the registered agent, August Cray, at a Loop address. Freeman hung up on my thanks. I sat with the receiver in my hand until the police operator came on asking if I needed assistance. I hung up abstractedly.
I knew that name. I’d heard it fairly recently. I just couldn’t place it. It was too late to go traipsing over to the LaSalle Street address Freeman had given me. Anyway, I was too tired tonight to undertake many more errands and I kind of wanted to go see Roz. I’d get over to the north Loop in the morning. When I saw Cray I’d probably remember why I knew his name.
“Can I help you find something, Vic? That’s my desk you’re burrowing in.”
McGonnigal’s voice at my elbow made me jump. He was trying for a light note but his voice held a brittle undercurrent.
I held up a hand. “Pax, Sergeant. I wasn’t delving into your deepest secrets. I came by on a errand and Detective Finchley told me I could use this phone…. Can’t we go back to being friends, or at least nonenemies, whatever it was we used to be?”
He ignored the bulk of my comment and asked what kind of errand I had. I rolled my eyes in disgust but pulled the bracelet out of my pocket and went through my saga.
McGonnigal picked it up, then flung it to the desk, “We can go back to being friends or at least nonenemies when you stop playing little games, Warshawski. Now get lost, I’ve got work to do,”
I stood up slowly and looked at him stonily. “I’m not playing games, McGonnigal, but you sure are. You little boys give me a call if you ever decide to let me in on the rules.”
Officer Neely had stopped typing to watch us. “You get tired of the Boy Scouts, come see me,” I said as I passed her. “Maybe we can work something out.”
She flushed to the roots of her fine sandy hair and resumed typing at a furious rate.
38
Running into a Campaign
When I got into the Chevy, Peppy looked at me expectantly. I’d forgotten I had her. It wasn’t fair to make her sit while I tried to track down Roz, but I was afraid if I took her home I wouldn’t be able to goad myself back into action.
“Sorry, girl,” I said, turning on the ignition. “Terry and John both know who owns that bracelet, wouldn’t you say? So why won’t they tell me?”