Burn Marks

“Don’t be modest, Vic—you’re a pretty memorable gal.”

 

 

The comment was innocuous but the tone seemed charged. Before I could question him he introduced me to the two women, who obviously were as enthusiastic at meeting me as I them. They filled small plates with a sample of treats and retired to the bankers as Marissa brought another unaccompanied man over to us. She introduced him as Clarence Hinton; he and MacDonald clearly knew each other reasonably well.

 

“You remember Vic from last Sunday, Ralph,” Marissa stated.

 

“I was just telling her not to undersell herself.” He turned to me. “Actually I probably wouldn’t have remembered you if I hadn’t run into Clarence here after you left.”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Clarence and I were both friends of Edward Purcell.”

 

I flushed against my will. Purcell had been chairman of Transicon and the mastermind of a major fraud I’d uncovered in my first big investigation. It wasn’t my fault he’d committed suicide the day before the federal marshals were coming to pick him up, but I had to fight back a defensive retort.

 

I forced myself to ask Clarence in a neutral voice if he was a developer too.

 

“Oh, I play around with putting projects together. I don’t have MacDonald’s energy for that kind of thing. Ralph, I want a drink and the lady here needs a refill. I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

“Mine’s bourbon on the rocks,” MacDonald said as Hinton turned to the bar. To me he added, “I’m glad you came, Vic—I’ve been hoping to have a chance to talk to you.”

 

I raised my eyebrows. “About Edward Purcell? It’s been almost ten years.”

 

“Oh, I’ve always felt sort of disappointed with Teddy for that. There’s no lick so hard you can’t fight it in court.”

 

“Especially in this town,” I said dryly.

 

He flashed a smile to let me know he got the joke without finding it particularly funny. “I don’t hold Teddy against you. No, I wanted to talk to you about something more contemporary.”

 

Maybe this was going to be my big break—detective to the stars. My chance to fund an international enterprise that would make my uncle Peter swoon with envy. Before I could ask, Clarence returned with the drinks and Ralph shepherded us down the hall to a small back room. It had probably been a maid’s room in the old days of the house, but Marissa had decorated it in white on white and used it for watching TV.

 

I sat in one of the hard-upholstered chairs and smoothed my challis skirt over my knees. MacDonald stood across from me, his foot on the rung of the couch, while Hinton leaned against the door. There was no special menace in their faces but the poses were meant to intimidate, I sipped a little wine and waited.

 

When it was clear I wasn’t going to say anything, MacDonald began. “Donnel Meagher has been chairman of the Cook County Board for a lot of years.”

 

“And you think the time has come for him to pack it in?” I asked.

 

MacDonald shook his head. “Far from it. He’s developed a political savvy in that time that no one else in this area can match, I expect you don’t agree with all his positions, but I’m sure you respect his judgment.”

 

“If I respected his judgment I’d agree with his positions,” I objected.

 

“His political judgments,” MacDonald smiled thinly, “After Clarence pointed out who you were I asked around about you. The consensus is, you consider yourself a wit,”

 

“But with good judgment,” I couldn’t help saying.

 

He declined the gambit. “Boots picked Rosalyn Fuentes for the county slate based strictly on her political merits. That’s the kind of decision I understand you may have a hard time with.”

 

In my secret heart I hadn’t really expected he wanted to hire me, but it was still a letdown to think he only wished to warn me off Roz. “I don’t have any trouble with that kind of decision. Boots is clearly a political mastermind, and if Roz can get his backing, her future looks golden.”

 

“So you’re not trying to sandbag her campaign?” That was Hinton’s first contribution to the discussion.

 

“You guys are making me awful, awful curious,” I said. “Marissa put the arm on me to go to Roz’s fundraiser in the name of a decade-old solidarity. I shelled out more money than I’ve ever given a candidate, was bored out of my head, and was getting ready to leave when Roz talked to me just to make sure I wasn’t going to do anything to hurt her. Now you two lock me in a little room to pick my brain. I don’t know anything about Roz’s secrets, and I wouldn’t care what they were if people weren’t going out of their way to make me wonder.”

 

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