Page 78 of Fade Out
“No, I do. I have other people for that kind of thing.”
“Then I don’t get it. What do you need me for? What is it you think I can do for you?”
“The kind of people I can get to do… what’s necessary… aren’t very bright. I need someone smart. Someone with principles. To keep everyone in line.”
“Including you?”
“No. Not including me.” For the first time she bristled. She wasn’t going to be the kind of boss who took criticism well, that was obvious.
My future lay before me. There would be money and stability and moral ambiguity. Actually, I’d be lucky if it was only ambiguity. It would more likely be immorality. I might not be expected to hurt people myself, but I’d certainly be expected to assist. To track people down, to bully them, to threaten them. To lead the way to their deaths even. I didn’t want to do it. Couldn’t do it. I also knew I wasn’t getting out of the car unless I said yes.
“All right,” I said.
“Really? That was easier than I thought it would be.”
“You’re not leaving me a lot of options.”
She smiled in acknowledgment. “I’d like to buy Dresden.”
“The city in Germany?”
“Don’t be cute. The bar under the El at Belmont.”
I knew exactly what she talking about. Her grandfather had been extorting the bar, or at least he had until the owner filed a complaint with the liquor board. I don’t know that much happened with it, other than its being a footnote in the Federal investigation of Jimmy English.
“I didn’t know the bar was for sale.”
“It’s not.”
“Generally, it’s hard to buy something that’s not for sale.”
“That’s where you come in. I need something on Jonathon Lidell. Something that will make him want to sell to me.”
“I think that’s called blackmail.”
“Your job is to get the information. You have no idea what I do with it.” She watched me, waiting to see if I was going to balk.
“Sure, give me a week.”
I opened the door to get out of the car but stopped and sat back into my seat. I stared right into her eyes and said, “Linda Sanchez.”
“What about her?”
“She wanted me to wear a wire. That’s why they tried to railroad me. So I’d make a deal.”
She smiled serenely. Too serenely.
“That’s not what’s been going on, is it?” I had that old sick feeling in my stomach, the one I get every time someone pulls one over on me.
“Tony Stork,” she said, then asked me to close the door.
The limo pulled away as I stood on the sidewalk trying to understand what she said. Sanchez wasn’t the one pressuring Tony to prosecute me. It was Deanna. Just as her grandfather must have taught her, she worked both angles. She got me out of jail and then made sure I was threatened with a lifetime of confinement. A chill ran up and down my spine. How would I ever get away from her?
* * *
When I got upstairs,I went right for the phone and called Owen Lovejoy, fucking Esquire. Franklin stood in the kitchen door, Terry was collapsed on the couch watching an old Cary Grant movie. I barely noticed them.
Owen picked up. “Hello?”
