By the time the gun was clean and I was dressed, it was after four. I called Larry, the guy who puts my apartment back together when it’s been ransacked, and explained my problem. He wouldn’t be able to make it over until next Wednesday, but he referred me to an emergency glazier who agreed to take care of the window in the morning.
After debating the matter I decided to call an alarm company to wire my doors and windows. I got their machine with instructions to call back Monday morning. I hate living in the middle of a fortress. It’s bad enough to seal the place up every night—although an alarm system might let me cut back on the hardware—but I just couldn’t afford to have people climbing in through the windows after me.
I spent the rest of the afternoon nailing boards across the broken window and installing crude braces on the others. After that I felt restless, and to my dismay, forlorn. Solitude usually brings me a sense of peace, but right now I felt under siege. I didn’t think I could stand to spend a night in here with the boarded-over windows.
I could call Conrad, but it would be a mistake to start a relationship in a state of dependency. After a few minutes’ hesitation I tracked Lotty down at Max’s.
“I think I’ve found the people who attacked you,” I greeted her abruptly. “Or they found me.”
“Oh?” Her tone was cautious.
I explained what had happened last night, stressing that I’d given Finchley and Rawlings everything I knew about Mitch Kruger and Diamond Head. “But I don’t think they’re taking it very seriously. They think being chased into the San was my just deserts for breaking into the plant.”
I took a deep breath. “Lotty, I know you’ve been upset with me because you were attacked in my stead. I don’t blame you. But… I just can’t be by myself tonight. There’s been too much—there are too many people trying…” To my dismay I found tears were choking me; I couldn’t go on.
“Vic, don’t!” I flinched from the sharpness in her voice. “I just can’t help you right now. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry you had a rough night last night. I wish I could help you put your pieces back together—but I’m in too many pieces myself to be able to help you.”
“I… Lotty…” but she had handed the phone back to Max.
When he came on the line he was unexpectedly gentle, even apologizing for his harshness the night Lotty had been attacked. “You each expect the other to be invincible; when you aren’t you both suffer,” he added. “Lotty… well, she’s not in good shape right now. She’s not angry with you, but she needs to feel angry to keep herself in a semblance of functioning. Can you understand that? Give her some distance, some time?”
“I guess I have to,” I said bitterly.
When we’d hung up I stood in the middle of the room with my hands pressed against my head, trying to keep the boiling inside from spilling out through my temples. I could not stay in this apartment one more minute, that much was certain. Randomly stuffing clothes into an overnight bag, along with an extra clip, I headed downstairs.
I’d take the el out to O’Hare and get on the first plane I came to with a spare seat.
I thought about sneaking past Mr. Contreras’s place on the way out, but decided that would really be unfair to the old man. I needn’t have worried about it: he had the door open before I reached the bottom of the stairs.
He surveyed me with his hands on his hips. “So you went and got yourself pushed into the San, huh? After letting me think you was just going off to lay low for a few days. I can’t take too many more nights like last one, and that’s a fact. Don’t think I’m gonna apologize for getting that Sergeant Rawlings to go back into your place, because I’m not. If you can’t share your plans with anyone, least I can do is get the cops to look after you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your care. Although I slept until noon without knowing there was a cop on my couch, I’m sure the subliminal knowledge was what enabled me to rest.”
He grunted in exasperation. “Oh, don’t go using your tony vocabulary on me. I know you only do it when you’re pissed, but you got no call to be. I’m the one suddenly finding out at five in the morning you almost got yourself killed. Again.”
“Don’t!” I cried more sharply than I’d meant. “I just can’t take any harassment right now.”
He started to expostulate—that I’d have to learn to take it until I could pay attention to how he felt, left alone to worry—but my distress must have been writ large in my face. After a minute he broke off and asked me what the problem was.
I tried to summon a smile. “Rough night last night and too many people on my ass right now.”