Fly With Fire (17 page)

“Smack, coke, you name it.
She told me I could make some really big money if I partnered up with Lyons.
She doesn’t know where he is. She’s waiting for him to contact her. Cop killing
never blows over but she seemed confident he’d be in touch. She said Ray told
her if anything ever went wrong; wait for Lyons to contact her. He seemed to
trust Lyons and she doesn’t think Lyon’s did it.  Meantime Bull Shaun…the
other cop says he’s gonna take care of everything, including her. She’s afraid
of him and desperate for protection. The dealers have gotten word she was Ray’s
girlfriend. But she doesn’t want to lose her place. She hoping they won’t blame
her for Ray, but she’ll take Bull’s protection if she has to.”

“How very practical. Look,
it’s almost two. Let’s take these and head back. I can rehearse and you can
figure things out. Zack, I’ll understand if you need to quit…this. Just don’t
do anything dangerous. Please.”

“I gave you and Roddy my
word. I don’t feel I need to quit and I don’t want to, but I don’t trust
internal affairs and Bull. But I know someone who goes way back with Bull, oh
fuck it, Shaughnessy. He’s the last man I want to deal with, but I’m sure he’s
clean, and he hates drug dealers. I’ve told you nothing, got it? Strictly
professional conversation with us. Ms. Whitman.” They had the sandwiches boxed.

“So, this gig with the
showgirl mean they’re finally cutting you loose, Burnham?” Al Simpson gripped
his coffee cup with his large paw of a hand. His chin seemed to chronically jut
forth with distain. Or was it anger? He had taken off his tie and thrown it
over his computer screen. Aside from that his office was neat and orderly.
Paperwork in neat stacks, files cabinets closed, in and out boxes organized
with tabs and color folders. There was a picture of his wife and son and
daughter on the desk, turned outward. The frame was engraved “World’s Greatest
Dad”. It was difficult for Zack to reconcile the sentiment that inspired such a
gift being applied to the tough, cynical detective. But the gift was apparently
from when his son Russell was still alive.

“She’s an aerial artist, Al.
Not a showgirl.” Zack blew it off as the offensive move he knew it to be. Put
someone on the defensive right off and you’ve won half the battle. Al was an
expert marksman at character assassination. “You keep in touch with Bull
Shaughnessy these days?”

Al frowned, “You wanting to
get social, now you’re here in Greendale on your temp job?” Then he smiled, his
white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. He almost looked friendly. “Good
ole Bull. Now that’s a cop’s cop. Not one of the new sensitive male types the
CPD seems to be recruiting these days. With college degrees now. A bunch of
know nothings. You went to De Paul didn’t you, Burnham. Learn much police work
at De Paul?”

“I studied criminal justice,
Al. Took some law. It’s comes in handy. We educated cops like to sound smart
when we’re having our tea parties.” He saw Al frown when he helped himself to
coffee. The big man grimaced as Zack sat down across from him. “You’re the most
decorated cop I know, Al. Miss the action? Pencil pushing in Greendale’s gotta
be a far cry from being Chicago’s superhero. Isn’t that what The Tribune called
you? Best record of solves in CPD history. Now all of a sudden you’re working
this murder case. You haven’t done a murder in a while but harassing innocent
people was never you’re style, Al. Your Dad would’ve reigned that shit in a
long time ago. Guess you’re your own man now.”

“Dad woulda tossed a pussy
like you off the force a long time ago if he was still chief. And I’m not
bringin’ up your Dad. Got some respect for the dead. I’m hearin’ rumors that
Ray mighta been dirty. Sorry to hear that’s going around ‘cause at least Ray
had himself a pair. You dirty too, Burnham?”

“More than rumors, Al. And I
guess if I’m dirty it’ll come out in the wash. I got word Bull Shaughnessy’s
already got his foot in the door of Ray’s action. Funny how he hasn’t collared
his main suspect yet. Ray’s alleged business partner, Curtis Lyons. You ever
know Lyon’s? From the hood? My source tells me he was a stoolie for Bull back
in Bull’s narco days

“Curtis Lyons is a nobody.
Yeah, he was friends with Russell but they went their separate ways when Russ
went into the army. If I thought he’d sold dirty heroin to Russ, he wouldn’t
have lasted long enough to be our topic of conversation. Russ got it from one
of his Iraq buddies. That’s what the young…woman he was with when…that’s what
she said. You been sniffing ‘round that investigation, got your nose where it
don’t belong?”

“Just curious seeing as how
so many are insinuating I was involved with Ray’s sideline. When you have some
spare time, check out Senorita Villareal. Rosalie. Here’s the address. Got it
from an anonymous source. Just thought you might want to check out for yourself
how Bull’s handling things without you to back him up. See if he really can
think all on his own without you pulling the strings.

“I have confidence in Bull.
He’s not riding a bike in boy’s town. He’s a real cop.” Al snorted dismissively
furrowing his brows while tossing is head toward his office door.

“That he is, but in his spare
time he’s driving a sixty thousand dollar car and losing big out on the boat.
Real man activities. Just so you know he’s the man you always thought him to
be.” Zack got up and walked to the door. He looked at Al and saw a confusion of
emotions on the detective’s face. Anger, bewilderment, and grief. “How many
cops can drop ten thousand in a night, Al?”

Mo rolled her eyes as Claude
held her a little too tightly as they balanced side by side on the tandem. They
were working on integrating the marriage ceremony of Hades and Persephone into
the show. Mo wasn’t feeling the concept that had come down from Montreal.
Claude was loving it. It gave him more visibility in the act. He was also
loving the abundance of physical contact with Mo it also provided. “I missed
you, Momo. Let’s have dinner after the show. Can you get rid of the fascist pig
for a night? Look at him. That suit!”

“Not all men wait with bated
breath for the latest edition of ‘Vogue Male’, Claude. I already have plans for
dinner.”

“With, with that cop?” He spit
out the last word as if an insect had flown in his mouth. They both dropped and
swung by their knees.

“With Roddy and Luciana,
actually. After the show. They’re entertaining the Whitneys. I couldn’t get out
of it.”

“Roddy did not invite Claude,”
he sniffed. “You spend all your time with that capitalist watchdog. No time for
me anymore.”

“I’m sure Roddy will invite
Claude. You should check you’re messages.” She hung by one leg. “He is my
bodyguard after all.”

He twirled up onto the bar
and ran his hand down her leg, his hand massaging her foot. “Such pretty feet.
Let’s meet and go together.”

“Sorry, I’ve already told you
we’re done.” She swung up into a sitting position and looked down at Zack with
a little smile. He leaned back in a chair talking to Lourdes Garcia, one of the
coliseum security guards. He had loosened his tie and gotten comfortable. Her
workdays were long and he had gotten to know all the performers and workers.
The crowd of people gathered in the arena to put on the nightly show numbered
nearly two hundred and fifty. Mo watched as he talked, looked around, chatted
with performers or riggers, then got up with a stretch, and started to make one
of his rounds, checking rooms, cameras, and exits.”

“You date a glorified
security guard? How gauchely American. He goes to a barber. I don’t need to
carry a gun to be a man.” They landed on the platform. Misha handed them
towels. “I thought you were one of the few Americans with taste. Now you prove
me wrong. Misha, this towel smells sour, get rid of it.” He tossed the towel at
Misha’s face with anger. She saw a look of anger flash momentarily in the
younger man’s eyes. Mo put her hand on his arm rolling her eyes in Claude’s
direction. This got a little smile from the shy Ukrainian.

“No need to be rude. Misha
doesn’t do the laundry. And if I’m so gauchely American then you shouldn’t have
a problem with me dating another loutish American will you? Not that I have a
date with Detective Burnham. We’re just friends. Misha, please have the riggers
check out the tandem, it’s not level. Oh my god, there’s Linc!” She slid down
the pole leaving Claude and Misha looking after her.

“Girl! You are looking good
up there.” Mo and Linc hugged as everyone gathered around. Everyone hugged and
patted the tumbler. Mo thought the already slender man looked as if he’d lost a
lot of weight in a short time. His eyes looked sunken but he tried hard to put
on a good front. Mo wasn’t fooled in the least.

“Linc we’ve all been so
worried about you. I wish you’d gotten in touch.”

“Aw, I had to be by myself
for a while. But Will has been staying with me. I wanted to call you, Mo, but I
just didn’t think I could even talk.” His voice broke a bit and he quickly gave
her a hug, his giant lanky frame hunched over as he pressed his face in her
hair. He collected himself. “I sure have missed all a y’all.” He sniffed and
looked a little sheepish.

“So you back or what?”
Trollie asked.

“I wanted to see you all
before I go to Cleveland. The police cleared me to leave town. I signed up for
the year at Cleveland College. Gonna catch you for Europe next summer.”

“Say it ain’t so, Linc!” Deb
shouted breaking through the crowd. “We can’t do the show without you. You’re
our spirit!” She wrapped her arms around him. Shouts of agreement took a moment
to die down.

“You all don’t need me.
You’re the best in the business. I need a break with everything…gotta get my
degree. I’m not getting any younger.”

“He’s all of twenty two!” Mo
had her arm around his waist. He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all so sorry to
see you go Linc. But you’ll look great in a suit. Have you seen Roddy?”

“He see Roddy now!” Roddy
broke through the crowd. “We all wish you good luck with the school. Don’t let
me down on next summer. Paris! Roma! Oh, Si! Stockholm.”

“Can’t wait for Stockholm,
home.” Linc and Roddy embraced.

“Stockholm is a beautiful
city.” No one looked at Trollie. “Well, it is.”

“Look, Will’s waiting out
front and I need to fill out something for Roddy here. Hey Boss, got my check?
I’m a full time student now. I need all the money I can get.”

“Linc, please stay in touch.
Come on up to Montreal, when we’re on hiatus. We’d all love to see you.” Mo
gave him a hug and tugged at a dreadlock. “You better not bale on next summer
or we’ll all go down to Cleveland and kick some accounting ass!”

“You all been like family to
me. I’m sorry I didn’t…couldn’t. I gotta go. Roddy?” Everyone’s eyes watered
with Linc’s. Hugs and kisses were given. Eyes wiped. Even Claude came down and
shook his hand. Mo looked up and noticed Misha checking out the tandem. She
gave Linc a last hug.

“Everybody back to work! Come
with me my boy.” Roddy guided Linc away. The crowd dispersed. Mo watched Linc
go with tears in her eyes. She had a feeling Linc might not be back. She could
see the pain in his eyes. His tone. Even his posture seemed somehow wilted. But
maybe if he kept his mind busy…” She sniffled.  The tears rolled down her
cheeks. She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it was Zack before she even
turned around. He pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at her tears.

“He’s a really good guy.” Her
voice quivered. “He didn’t deserve such pain.”

“No one does,” Zack said
simply. He handed her the handkerchief. “He’s young. He’ll survive it. Seems
like he’s got the right idea about school. Think he’ll follow through?”

“Oh, he will. He’s a busy bee
kind of guy. Always has to be doing. It might be just going through the motions
at first, but I bet he’ll find himself into it before long. He’s got that kind
of energy. Can’t keep him down. Thanks for the hanky. I guess I better get back
to work.” She gave him a half hearted smile.

Zack watched her wind her way
up a red silk to the platform. Her superb athletic body making the climb seem
so easy. He clutched the handkerchief in his hand and thought about how pretty
her unmade up face was as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. A flash
of guilt reminded him of the reason for those tears. He watched her swing out
and grasp Claude’s strong wrists. How he wished he could catch her high in the
air. How he wished they could fly together. He was certain they could soar.

Later in the day, after
rehearsals, most of the performers went to relax or eat before getting ready
for the show. Riggers were checking equipment one last time. The set designers
argued about reworking the stage levels. Things tended to change a bit as the
bugs were worked out. Zack looked up. Mo was talking to Misha. Claude had
sauntered off ignoring him several minutes before. He looked around at the
amazing setting. He watched the pyrotechnicians place their wares, checking
wires and fuses. The lighting crew tested and retested the different colored
spotlights. He was really enjoying the work. Just being there and watching
everything that went into producing the amazing show. It helped him take his
mind off the situation with Ray.

Zack had been deeply saddened
by the realization that his close friend, a man he’d trusted with his life, was
corrupt. Perhaps viciously so. But Zack was a realist who adapted to the news and
could only hope that he himself would be cleared in time. In his heart he
grieved for the man he knew Ray had once been. He wasn’t sure Al Simpson would
look into the information he’d given him, but he thought there was a pretty
good chance he would. Al had connections. Though retired from the CPD, he had a
vast network of friends, stoolies, people who owed favors and others he could
utilize if he wanted to look into Bull Shaughnessy’s dealings with Ray. And Al
was smart. Smart enough keep Bull in the dark. Al had proven his entire career
he was the smartest guy in Chicago law enforcement. Personality
notwithstanding, it was Zack’s opinion that Al was the only one who could bring
Bull down. Funny that the disagreeable cop seemed to be the only one Zack felt
he could trust with this.