Read Set the Night on Fire Online

Authors: Libby Fischer Hellmann

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Historical Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery Fiction, #Riots - Illinois - Chicago, #Black Panther Party, #Nineteen sixties, #Students for a Democratic Society (U.S.), #Chicago (Ill.), #Student Movements

Set the Night on Fire (33 page)

BOOK: Set the Night on Fire
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Markham moaned. “My arm . . . I think it’s broken!”

Dar held on. Lila got up, retrieved the .22, and slipped it into her pocket. She kept the .38 trained on Markham. “Call Teddy,” she said.

Markham shook his head. He was breathing heavily.

“Oh, I think you will,” Dar said evenly. “You see, there is a piece of evidence I didn’t tell you about. Evidence that puts Teddy squarely in the middle of the bombing.” He explained about the piece of metal with the VIN on it. “It contains Teddy’s blood. And his prints.”

“You’re bluffing,” Markham said. “The DNA couldn’t possibly hold up after all this time.”

“Do you want to take that chance?” 

Markham blinked.

“Your only option is how you spin it,” Dar said. “If you do it right, Teddy can hang on to his respectability. If not, we’ll expose him. His place in history is in your hands.”

Markham squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, something new was in his eyes. Defeat. “Give me the phone.”

 
 

FIFTY–FOUR

 

 

S
herry’s Café in Loves Park did a brisk business, especially in the morning. That’s when farmers, truckers, and people going to work stopped in for coffee and gossip and news. The news usually ran to who was arrested for a DUI, who was cheating on whom, whose kid was busted for drugs.

Lila, Dar, Cece, and Reba were lucky to find a table two mornings later. They were nursing cappuccinos and munching on bagels when someone turned up the volume on the TV on the wall. The screen proclaimed a special report was imminent. The broadcast cut to one of the network anchormen.

“In just a few moments Senator Ted Markham of Wisconsin will be announcing he is ending his quest for the presidency,” the anchor intoned.

Lila jerked her head up. Dar, Cece, and Reba did too. A hush fell over the room. A blue box on the TV screen, behind the anchorman’s shoulder, dissolved to a shot of Teddy in his Senate office. He sat behind his desk, hands folded. Two flags—one for the state of Wisconsin; the other, the American flag—flanked him.

The shot expanded to fill the screen. Teddy’s face looked unnaturally tan, as if someone had applied too much make-up. But his navy suit was sharply tailored, his shirt impeccably white, his red power tie a perfect Windsor knot.

He nodded into the camera. “Good morning, my fellow Americans. Two days ago my father—and his nurse-companion . . . ,” Lila and Dar exchanged glances, “ . . . were seriously wounded when intruders broke into his house in Madison. The nurse was shot trying to defend himself, and my father’s arm was broken. Both men, thank God, are expected to recover, but it will be a long recovery, especially for my father. He is not a young man.”

The camera started a slow move into a close-up of Teddy’s face.

“An investigation is ongoing . . . and I want to commend the Madison police for their diligence. They have retrieved evidence that I’m not at liberty to discuss. But there is every reason to think these criminals will be apprehended. And prosecuted.”

Dar gave a little shrug, as if to say, “he had to say something.” He and Lila had discussed what might happen if they were apprehended. Dar’s parole could be revoked, and he could be charged with conspiracy to commit murder. Lila could be charged with home invasion, aggravated battery, attempted murder, and whatever else they could drum up. Lila shrugged too. She would do it all over again. She looked back at the TV.

Teddy dipped his head and brushed his hair off his forehead. “There are some who feel this incident was politically motivated. I want to state unequivocally that I do not share that opinion. However, I cannot tolerate any risk or potential harm to my family. For that reason I have reassessed my situation.”

“He’s running scared,” someone in the café said.

“Shut up, Clarence.”

“It was my father yesterday,” Teddy went on, “but it could be my wife and children tomorrow. I would not be a good president if my attention was divided and I was constantly worried that harm might come to my loved ones. This country needs a president whose mind is focused solely on solving the problems of this great nation. And the world.

“For those reasons I have decided I can best serve the country by remaining in my seat in the Senate, creating legislation that will move us forward. Therefore, as of today, I will no longer seek the nomination of my party for president. It has been an honor to serve you, and I will continue to do so in the future as a senator. Thank you. God bless you, your family, and God bless America.”

The broadcast cut back to the anchorman. “A dramatic development from the campaign—or former campaign—of Senator Ted Markham. Recapping his statement, the senator said . . . ”

Cece turned her back on the TV as he droned on. “Nice spin.”

“Hard to believe he’s going to get away with murder,” Lila murmured.

“I don’t know,” Dar said, “his father was the mastermind, not him.”

“So they’re both getting away with it.”

“They’re paying a stiff price.”

“The authorities wouldn’t be this forgiving. Why are you?”

“Maybe Teddy will be a better leader,” Dar said. “You know, without the pressure to get elected. Or having his father on his back.”

“That’s crazy. The only reason he’ll stay in line is that he knows you have the VIN plate,” Lila said. “And if he comes after you, you’ll expose him.”

Dar considered it. “He won’t. As I said, the judge was the brains, not Teddy. And he’s been effectively neutralized.”

Lila looked at her father. She would never be that magnanimous.

“There’s a huge irony here, you know,” Cece said.

“What’s that?”

“Forty years ago you and Teddy and Payton were rebelling against what you believed was a corrupt establishment. Who knew Teddy would take it to the next level?”

“I’m not blameless,” Dar replied. “I used extortion to get what I needed.”

“But you weren’t running for president,” Reba countered.

“True,” Dar paused. “Speaking of ironies, don’t forget Payton.”

Lila frowned. “Payton?”

“We always thought he postured. Went too far. In the end, though, he was the one who came up with the evidence.”

“And redeemed himself,” Lila said.

“I wish your mother knew. Neither she nor Rain ever trusted him.”

“Her daughter knows,” Lila said.

“Speaking of daughters, where did you learn to handle a gun?”

Lila eyed Reba. Reba looked at the floor. Comprehension dawned on Dar’s face.

“I guess that’s another irony,” Lila said softly.

No one said anything.

“So . . . ,” Reba finally said. “You going back to New York now?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I still have some things to do here.”

“Like what?”

“Like buy Cece a new car. We pretty much trashed the Honda getting away from the rental truck. Then I want to find Dar a place to live. And get something nice for you and Benny.”

“Whoa, girl . . . ” Reba pointed her spoon at Lila. “That’s real nice and all, but you’re talking serious money.”

Lila pressed her lips together. “Yeah, well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She cleared her throat. At the same time the cough of a motorcycle outside chuffed, then quieted. Lila ignored it. “I got a strange message about a week ago. From a woman named . . . ”

She stopped in mid-sentence as the door to the café swung open. A man stepped in. Solid, not tall. His hair pulled back in a ponytail. Graying at the temples. He was wearing a black leather jacket and matching pants. In his hand was a helmet with a visor. His eyes darted back and forth, taking in his surroundings. A scar snaked on his cheek, still red and raw.

Lila gasped.

Dar, whose back was to the door, spun around. “What the . . . what’s he doing here?”

Cece frowned. “Shit!”

“It’s Enduro Man,” Lila whispered.

“That’s crazy. Why didn’t Teddy call him off?” Reba gestured to the TV. “The war is over.”

“Maybe no one told him,” Cece said.

“Markham’s people wouldn’t be that slipshod,” Dar said.

“So he’s a lone ranger?” Reba asked.

Lila slumped, trying to make herself small. “Whoever he is, how the hell did he find us?”

“It’s gotta be the tracker,” Reba said. “The last place he picked us up was at the house. He must have decided to hunt us down the old fashioned way.” She looked around. “And this being the center of town . . . ”

Lila’s skin felt clammy. “What do we do? Call the police?”

“Sure. While you’re at it, why don’t you fill them in on what you’ve been up to the last couple of days?” Reba glanced behind the counter, then at Enduro Man, who was starting to turn their way. “Listen. You and Dar sneak out the back. Go to Benny’s shop and lock yourselves up in the back room.”

They all stood. Reba and Cece moved in front of Dar and Lila, shielding them from sight. Reba gestured to Sherry, the owner, who was walking by. “Sweetheart, these fine folks need to get out the back door. Pronto.”

Sherry studied Reba, then motioned with her hand. “This way.”

Reba gave Dar a shove. “Follow her.”

Dar and Lila slipped behind the counter and disappeared through the kitchen. With the crush of people in the café, Enduro Man didn’t seem to notice. As Lila retreated, she heard Reba say to Cece, “I need you to distract him. For about five minutes.”

“Excuse me?” Cece said.

“Come on to him. Spill coffee on him. Whatever. Just give me five minutes with his bike.”

Dar and Lila ducked out the back door.

 

* *

 

They were in the back room of Benny’s shop thirty minutes later when the front door jingled. Two sets of footsteps stomped on the floor. Reba’s voice called out. “Hey Benny, it’s Reba Whiteman.”

Benny cocked his head. Dar raised a finger to his lips.

“Hey, Spivak. Get off your fat ass. I got some business for you.”

Dar raised an eyebrow.

“Hold your horses. I’m comin’ . . .” Benny looked at Dar and Lila and nodded once. They both moved behind the door. Benny opened it, closed it behind him, and headed to the front. Lila leaned her ear against the door.

“This here gentleman . . . what’d you say your name was?” Reba asked.

“I didn’t,” a tinny, nasal voice mumbled.

“Yeah, well, whoever he is, he got a flat tire over at Sherry’s. I told him you’d fix it.”

Lila ached with fear. Why did Reba bring him here?  What if he spotted them? This was lunacy. She started to tremble. Dar rested his hand on her shoulder.

“What seems to be the trouble?” she heard Benny ask.

“Looks like the valve on his Enduro somehow came out. The central core is missing. No way to reinflate it without replacing the valve.”

“How do you know so much about bikes?” Enduro Man broke in.

“I ride a Harley. Just not in this weather,” Reba said. “It’s bad for my skin.” She giggled. It sounded artificial. “Well, you’re in the right place. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Hey, Reba. Thanks for the business,” Benny said. “I owe you.”

Enduro Man grunted.

The front door tinkled. Then Benny asked, “So, you got a name?”

“You can call me Jergens.”

“Okay, Jergens. Let’s take a look.”

The door tinkled again. There was silence.

“Who’s Jergens?” Lila whispered.

“I have no clue,” Dar said. He was still holding her.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing,” Dar said. “Benny and Reba know what they’re doing.”

The door to the shop opened again. “ . . . probably only take a few minutes,” Benny was saying. “Why don’t you go get a brew or some coffee while I work on it?”

“That’s what I was doing when it went flat,” the man called Jergens snapped. “I’ll stay here.”

Lila stiffened.

“Well, I need to work on it in my garage. And I can’t have customers back there. Insurance.”

“How do I know you . . .” Jergens blew out a breath. “Oh, fuck it all.”

“Hey man, it’s cool. Come back in ten. I’ll have a new valve for you. And air in the tire.” Even Benny sounded relieved.

 
 

FIFTY–FIVE

 

 

B
enny found a valve for the tire and reinflated it. Jergens returned, slapped twenty dollars on the counter, and took off. Benny went to the back room and unlocked the door. Lila and Dar were perched on stacks of boxes. Lila looked pale and shaky.

“He’s gone,” Benny said. “But we gotta get home.”

“Why?” Dar asked.

“Gotta fire up the computer.”

“What for?”

“You’ll see. By the way, I have his license plate number. I called my buddy at the DMV, but he’s out till tomorrow.” He shrugged. “’Course, it might not matter by then.”

They crowded into Benny’s pick-up for the ride home. Once in the house, he booted up his computer and clicked on a website. After fiddling with the mouse, he let out a satisfied grunt. “There we go.”

Dar watched the monitor. A road map of northern Illinois with a flashing dot materialized on the screen.

“What’s that?”

Benny grinned. “Jergens.”

Lila leaned over the computer. “You put a tracker on his bike.”

“Turn around is fair play.”

Lila gave him a high five. “How did you manage it?”

“I snuck it on when I put the tire back on. It’s inside the rim.”

“Will he’ll find it?”

“I used a miniature version.” Benny explained. “Not much bigger than a quarter. And sure, there’s a chance he’ll find it. But hopefully we’ll know who he is and where he’s going by the time he does.”

Dar started to put on his jacket. “Come on, Lila.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going after him. We have to finish this.”

“But what if it gets ugly?”

“If anyone tries to harm you, I’ll fight the devil in hell.”

She gave him a small smile.

“I can track him from here,” Benny said. “And let you know where he’s heading. Just keep in touch.”

“Tell Cece and Reba we’ll be back,” Dar said.

“Wait,” Lila said. “I have to get something.” She went into the spare room.

Dar knew what she was going for. He kept his mouth shut.

 

* *

 

Lila drove east on I-90 in the Econoline. She put her cell phone on the dash. They were closing on O’Hare airport when Benny called.

“He’s still on 90.”

“Thanks.” She disconnected and gazed through the windshield. The afternoon sky hung low with dark angry clouds. Every few seconds a snowflake drifted over the windshield. “I don’t like driving in snow.”

“Maybe it will hold off,” Dar said.

“Right,” she said doubtfully. “So, who is he? Is Markham giving him his marching orders?”

“Markham might be furious,” Dar said. “He might want revenge. But he’s not stupid. I can’t believe he’d try again so soon. He waited years to find Payton, remember.”

“What about Teddy? Maybe Jergens is working directly for him?”

“Anything’s possible,” Dar said. “But it doesn’t feel right. Then again, I haven’t been around Teddy for forty years.”

Lila ran a nervous hand through her hair. She leaned forward. Then she leaned back.

“What is it, Lila?”

She cleared her throat. “I should have told you this before, but it never seemed like the right time. And we were pretty busy.”

“What is it?”

“A few days ago, I checked my messages on my phone in New York.” She held out a hand as if to ward off a scolding. “Yes, I know it was dangerous, and I shouldn’t have. But someone named Joanna Kerr left me a message. She said she was Philip Kerr’s ex-wife, and she needed to talk to me right away.”

Dar looked over.

“When I called, she said my grandfather changed his will just before he died. That Danny and I were supposed to inherit the bulk of his estate. But that her ex-husband . . . ”

“Philip Kerr,” Dar cut in.

“You know about this?”

He nodded. “I got a letter from her when I was inside.”

“She told me she wrote you but never got a reply.”

“I didn’t trust anyone with the name of Kerr back then.”

“So you know what happened?”

“I went to see Kerr after I got out. He said it wasn’t true.”

Lila’s eyes went wide.

“He said his ex-wife was making it up. To get back at him. A bad divorce. No kids, he said.”

“And you believed him?”

“At the time . . . ” Dar looked over. “Wait a minute. What are you trying to say?”

“Think about it, Dar. The only heir to a considerable fortune finds out his father changed his will right before he died. Two people he’s never met are going to inherit half of his money. How would you feel?”

“Furious, but . . . ”

“Bear in mind we never really understood why Markham’s people were after me. You, yes. It was logical. But me? I had nothing to do with the past.”

“Yes, but . . . ”

Lila looked over. “There’s something else. Joanna Kerr said the brakes went out on her car recently. She doesn’t think it’s an accident. She’s in hiding.”

Dar sat up straighter. “When? When did this happen?”

“She wasn’t specific, but recently.”

“But after I went to see Kerr.”

“Probably.”

Dar let out a groan. “Oh my god. That means there were two groups coming after us. Markham’s people. And Kerr’s.”

“The rental truck. And the man on the motorcycle. Different people. Different M.O.s.”

“But the same objective.” Dar rubbed a finger below his nose. Then he nodded. “Now it makes sense.”

Lila nodded.

More snow dusted the windshield. Dar leaned forward.

“I think I know where’s he’s headed.”

BOOK: Set the Night on Fire
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