Sara Paretsky - V.I. Warshawski 08 (28 page)

BOOK: Sara Paretsky - V.I. Warshawski 08
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“That
someone couldn’t have been you?”

“I
thought I told you I was preparing my lecture.” His hauteur flashed through
once again.

It
sounded like a wonderful household: Papa the king, whose every act took
precedence over the lives or even thoughts of his vassals. “You must have been
quite annoyed that Deirdre stayed away all night. Or had she done that before?”

He
flushed. “What are you trying to insinuate? That she had a lover? She was a
faithful, loving wife. I won’t have her memory maligned.”

The
picture of the two of them in the master bedroom after their dinner party came
vividly to mind. What went through his mind? How did he reconcile his own
brutality with the ideal of the loving spouse, faithful unto death?

“But
weren’t you upset when she didn’t come home Friday night? Did you and Emily
discuss that?”

“I
came home from work and asked where her mother was. She said Deirdre had gone
out, that she’d left a note saying she wouldn’t be back for supper and we
should have leftover salmon. I must say it was inconsiderate of her—but never
mind that, she’s dead now.”

“And
Saturday morning?” I prodded. “What did you and Emily say then?”

“I’ve
told you twice already, Warshawski,” he cried out. “We didn’t talk.”

“This
symposium ... Do you have some flyer announcing that? Or did the police already
take it away with them?”

“Are
you trying to imply I made up an important speaking engagement as a cover-up
for my wife’s death? I resent that more than your other filthy aspersions.”

He
sat up briefly, and his robe opened over his chest. He realized in a moment
that he was exposing himself to me—a pale, hairless expanse—and pulled the robe
shut, sinking back into his seat.

“So
you were out at your symposium when the police came with the word that Deirdre
was dead. That must have been difficult news for Emily to absorb on her own.”

“Not
if she’d killed Deirdre,” he muttered from the depths of his chair.

I
scratched my head, trying to think of a way to get a straight story out of him.
“I’m really worried about Emily, Fabian. Aren’t you? Where could she have
gone?”

He
moved his lips, as if rehearsing a point with himself, but wouldn’t speak.

“If
you have some idea that you don’t want to share with the police, I’d be happy
to check it out. At no charge, and without making it public. Do you have some
colleague, or a minister, or anyone you wouldn’t want people to know she’d run
to?”

“She
ran off to you. That detective, the one you’re so friendly with—Finchley, is
it?—told me she’d been spotted near your office building.

You’ve
got a hell of a nerve to come here demanding her, Warshawski. I’m seriously
thinking of bringing charges against you for corrupting her. If not for you her
mother would still be alive today and I wouldn’t be going through this hell.
Don’t tell me you didn’t entice Deirdre down to your office—what else was she
doing there? And then encouraging Emily to run away to you. I could sue you for
undue influence.”

“You’d
make a laughingstock of yourself, and Alec Gantner would never put you on the
federal bench.”

“Thanks
to you and Deirdre that’ll probably never happen anyway. Get out, Warshawski. I
got out of bed to see you, but I’ve had enough. Go home.”

With
his yellow skin and glassy eyes he looked too ill for me to feel much besides
an unwelcome twinge of pity. “You ought to see a doctor, Fabian. You might
start feeling better if you had some proper medication.” Like lithium, I
thought, or Thorazine.

29

Not a
Waggy Tail

Once
or twice on the way home I thought someone was behind me, but when I pulled
over to check the traffic no one else slowed down. At least I didn’t see the
Spider’s headlights in my mirror.

I
stopped in Grant Park to let Peppy stretch her legs. When I turned off the
drive I again thought someone stayed with me, but no one else parked. I kept
near the sidewalk along the inner drive, where the cops keep a regular patrol,
and kept an eye cocked for shadows. Peppy, sensing my nervous state, didn’t
stray far. She’d bound off for a minute or two after a phantom rabbit, then
return to press her nose into my hand.

Back
on Racine I parked north of my building and across the street, surveying the
entrance. I finally decided that concern over Emily was making me jumpy, and
got out of the car. Still, I ordered Peppy to keep close to heel. I didn’t put
her on her leash, but wrapped it around my hand with the metal clip hanging
free.

As we
came up the walk Peppy suddenly stopped and growled. Her hackles rising, she
looked intently at the curb. I knelt down next to her, wishing I had my gun, or
was wearing a full suit of armor. Peppy gave a great yelp and tore away from me
as a man rose from between two parked cars. I was about to plunge headlong
after her when I realized it was MacKenzie Graham.

My
heart was pounding so hard that my larynx vibrated. “I don’t even want to know
what you’re doing, Graham. Go home and get your diapers changed.”

I
called to Peppy. She was wagging her tail at Ken to show there were no hard
feelings, but she followed me to the door.

“Can’t
I at least say something?”

I
gave a good imitation of Peppy’s growl and told him to make it good.

“Could
I come inside? I’ve been out here for ages and it’s not that warm.”

I
pressed my lips together, but jerked my head toward the entrance. Inside the
foyer I could hear Mitch whining and scratching from inside Mr. Contreras’s
apartment. That meant he—and Mr. Contreras—would soon be joining us. If I
wanted any semblance of privacy I’d have to take Ken upstairs, instead of
talking in the foyer as I had intended.

We
were halfway up the stairs when Mitch caught up with us, followed by the old
man. “Oh. It’s you, doll. Mitch was making such a racket I thought maybe
someone had broken in.”

“Right
you are. Your young pal Graham has something to say to me. If he’s not back
down in fifteen minutes call Conrad—one of us will be dead.”

“Sure,
doll, sure. I get you. You want privacy.”

“No.
I want to put a slug through this young pest. But the fact that you’ve seen us
together will stop me.”

Mr.
Contreras called to Mitch, but Peppy, glad of a change in her routine, stayed
with me. I let Ken go ahead with the dog. If he had some notion of adding to
his cuteness by showing how easy it would be to jump me, I didn’t want to make
it simple.

When
I’d ushered him into my living room I looked at my watch. “Okay. Give it to me
in two minutes.”

“Don’t
go imitating the pinstripes, Warshawski. I have some news for you.”

“I’m
all ears.” I stayed on my feet.

“I
wasn’t the only person following you tonight.”

I
leaned against the piano, my arms folded. “Are you spinning a line to make
yourself interesting, or did you really see someone?”

“I
didn’t shiver between those cars for over an hour just to play a game with you.
Matter of fact I’m freezing. I could use some coffee.”

“In a
minute. Tell me what you saw.”

“After
you stopped me I made a circle through the park and got back on the drive at
North Avenue.” He gave me a sidelong glance to see how I’d react. “I didn’t
know if you were going downtown or not and thought I’d missed you at the
Michigan exit. But I went on south just to see and caught sight of you at the
second light in Grant Park. The dog was sticking her head out the window.”

I
nodded.

“I
didn’t want to get too close—I figured you’d be watching for me. So I hung
about six cars back. And then I noticed someone else was after you. So I tagged
along to see.”

“Uh-huh.
You kind of bored hanging around your old man, or what, Graham?”

He
scowled. “I thought you’d be interested.”

“Did
you get a license plate or something to prove your point?” I kept my voice
skeptical.

“No.
It was too dark and I was trying to stay out of your mirror.”

“So
where did I go, Marlowe?”

“Why
are you treating me this way? I hung around in the cold to give you a friendly
warning that someone was after you, and you act like I’m two years old.”

“You’ve
been tagging around after me trying to prove how clever you are. This could be
the relish on the hotdog.” I leaned back against the keyboard.

His
face crumpled in frustration, but after a bit he pulled himself together.

“You
got off at Forty-seventh, right? I hung back so you wouldn’t see me, but the
other guy stayed right with you. I had bad luck with the light by the exit
there—you and he got through on the yellow and I had to wait it out. By the
time it changed you’d disappeared.”

“Assuming
you’re right, and someone was following me,why did you come back here? And by
the way, where’s your car? You can believe I was checking for it.”

“I
parked around the corner. I thought if your tail spotted me watching him ... ”
His voice trailed away. “I didn’t know what else to do. If they were going to
hurt you maybe they’d wait until you got home.”

“So
you wanted to be a hero? But why? What are you getting out of tagging around
behind me?”

“I
like you. You’re the only person who ever worked for Darraugh who didn’t fall
over and play dead whenever he frowned.”

“Give
your father his due: he’s never fired me for having an independent attitude.”

“Wish
he’d give me the same break,” Ken muttered.

“Flaws
terrify parents: they know they can’t look after you forever, so they lose all
perspective when they see aberrations that may keep you from having a decent
life on your own.” I stood up. “You still want coffee? I’m going to have
whisky.”

He
flashed a smile, grateful that I wasn’t making fun of him anymore. “Coffee for
me. Drinking isn’t one of my flaws.”

He
followed me out to the kitchen. “Don’t you want to know what happened when you
came home?”

“There’s
more?”

“Yeah.
Someone came down Racine after you. They didn’t stop, but I figured they were
just making sure you’d gone home”

I put
beans in the grinder but paused before running it. “I did see a car turn south
after me, but there’s no way of knowing if it had been behind me all the way
from Kenwood. And if it was it doesn’t matter, since neither of us saw the
plate.”

He
leaned against the sink, watching me fiddle with the beans and the teakettle.
“Well, if it was your tail, there were two of them in the car. I’m pretty sure
they were both men. I didn’t see the make, but it was a four-door.

Dark—blue
or green. Maybe brown.”

“That
narrows it down to a few hundred thousand, all right.”

He
laughed. “Why would someone be watching you?”

“Beats
me, sonny—you should have the answer to that, not me.” I took the coffee into
the living room, stopping for the Black Label on my way.

While
he was drinking coffee in the living room Mr. Contreras came up, fueled by a
jealous curiosity. He decided he wanted coffee too. While the two of them sat
talking I went into my bedroom to use the phone.

Fabian
answered on the first ring, as though he were expecting a call. When he heard
it was me his voice lost its eagerness.

“When
you saw me tonight you said you’d been warned I would show up. Who warned you,
Fabian?”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about, Warshawski.”It was bluster, and hollow
sounding at that.

“Don’t
screw around, Messenger: someone’s following me. Who did you put on my tail?”

“No
one. I repeat: I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If
you think you can execute end runs around me to find your daughter, think
again.”

He
slammed the phone in my ear. I went back to the living room, where Mr.

Contreras
and Ken were in the thick of a conversation about military history. My neighbor
had fought at Anzio. His own grandsons shared their mother’s noninterest in his
life, but Ken had studied something about that war and had a lively thirst for
details. At midnight I finally shooed them away.

As
soon as they’d left I turned out the lights and watched the street through a
crack in the blinds. In a few minutes Ken’s Spider roared past. No one pulled away
from the curb to tag after him. I stayed by the window for twenty minutes.

If
someone was watching me he was very skillful: I didn’t see anyone on the
street.

I was
halfway convinced Fabian had sent my escort, thinking I’d lead him to his
daughter. It did look like someone who wanted to keep track of me, rather than
menace me: if it weren’t for the fluke of Ken’s coming after me I might not
even have noticed they were behind me. And even suspecting it as I drove home I
hadn’t spotted them for sure.

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