She plaited and unplaited her fingers. “I… yes, I guess he must have. He said he was going to Barney’s—that’s a bar, but you can get sandwiches there—that he had to talk to a man and he wouldn’t be eating lunch with me.”
“Is Barney’s where he went when he needed to talk to people privately?”
“Men need a place where they can go and be with other men. You young girls don’t always understand that. But you can’t keep them tied to your apron strings all day long, it doesn’t do your marriage any good. And I know Barney; we grew up together. His father used to own the saloon before him. They’ve been there on the corner of Forty-first and Kedzie for sixty years now. They serve good sandwiches, good corned beef, none of that packaged stuff they sell you at these fast-food places. It was a good place for Eddie to go. He could shoot a little pool too. He always liked that. But I wish I hadn’t let him go today. If I’d kept him here, found out what made him so upset, he wouldn’t have been walking down the street when that car drove by. He’d be with me still.”
Cindy came back in and bent over her mother. “There’s a nigger out front now, Mother. He says he’s a detective and he has a badge and everything, but he’s not wearing a uniform. Do you want to talk to him? Or do you want me to call the precinct and make sure?”
Mrs. Mohr shook her head. “What’s he coming to do? Apologize?”
I felt my face turning hot. “He probably has some questions, Mrs. Mohr. It’s probably the same detective who answered the call the night your husband’s car was stolen and used to attack a doctor on the North Side.”
I got up and went to the front door. As I’d thought, it was Conrad Rawlings. He did not look overwhelmed with delight at seeing me, and I felt my face grow hotter still.
“Well, well, Ms. W. I might have guessed you’d beat me here.”
“It’s not what you think,” I stammered. “I didn’t know he was dead. I came to talk to him to try to get a lead on Mitch Kruger.”
“That a fact?”
Mr. Contreras, glad to make an escape, had come down the hall behind me. The nerve-wracking experiences of the last half hour made him more belligerent than usual.
“It sure is a fact. I’m tired of watching you cops harass Vic here instead of trying to catch murderers. You never listen to her, so she gets soaked in the canal and then you come around blaming her. Matter of fact, I talked to Eddie
Mohr this morning. He was fine then. I told him we was coming down this afternoon and next thing I know he’s been shot dead on the street.“
“Okay, okay,” Rawlings said. “You didn’t try to finesse me. What did you want to talk to him about?”
“Money. What about you?”
“Oh, I heard about the shooting and I kind of connected his name with the car that hit the doc. So I thought maybe I’d nose around a little. I’m not as fast as you, Ms. W., but I do try to get there. Tonight was your night for working late; I do remember you telling me that yesterday.”
Cindy joined us in the hallway before I could think of something to say that might ease some of the bitterness in his voice. I could kiss him in front of Mr. Contreras, but not in front of Cindy. It would seem patronizing, and make his interview with them too difficult.
“Do you know him?” she asked.
“Yes. He’s a friend of mine. A good friend, even if he’s a little quick to judge me sometimes.”
“I guess you can talk to my mother. But keep it brief. She’s had a bad shock today.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rawlings said. “I’ll keep that in mind… Drive that heap of yours carefully on the way home, Vic. I don’t want to hear any of the boys had to pull you over.”
A New Profession Beckons
“Do you think I killed him, doll?” Mr. Contreras asked when we were back in the car.
His anxiety robbed me of any desire to upbraid him for warning Eddie Mohr this morning. “Of course not. If either of us did, it was me, pushing on the investigation.”
“You don’t think he was shot by gangs, do you?”
“Nope. Someone got him to go out to Barney’s and shot him as he walked home. I just wish…” I cut myself off.
“What, doll? What do you wish?”
“I wish I hadn’t found Mitch’s picture. Of Eddie with Hector Beauregard. And at the same time I wish I knew who he called this morning. Maybe Conrad can find out more than we could, although it’s not too likely with Cindy and Gladys thinking of him as a barely articulate lesser ape.”
“Conrad, huh? You getting kind of friendly with a cop if you’re starting to talk about him by his first name.”
I felt myself blushing. “Let’s see if Barney will tell us anything.”
During the short drive to the tavern I suggested a strategy to Mr. Contreras. He agreed readily, anxious to make what amends he could for his disastrous phone call.