“Trouble in fantasyland?”
I gave Janek a what-the-hell look as I slid into the seat across from him at his favorite diner. My stomach was rebelling at the smell of the sizzling bacon that emanated from the back grill. Cai and I had been up way too late and had drunk way too much wine last night for the smell of grease, even though it was nearly eleven.
“Nice to see you too, Karl,” I said, then fished a couple of Tylenol out of my bag and tossed them back with Janek’s untouched water glass.
“Well, since you asked to meet me alone,” he said, “either things are dicey between you and lover boy or you’re planning a surprise for him and want my help. Given his piss-poor mood lately, I’m guessing it’s the former.”
Janek looked at me like a disapproving parent who was preparing to give a lecture. I hadn’t been certain if Michael had spoken to him about what was going on with us or not. Apparently, the general gist of things was self-evident.
“You’re right. Michael and I are working through a difference of opinion right now. So I figured I shouldn’t ask him for any favors.”
It was the simplest explanation I had at the moment. I also was not coming to Janek for a read on my love life and didn’t want him to think he had to play mediator.
“Well, figure it out already so he can get back to working the way he’s supposed to. This sad puppy dog look he’s got going on is just plain embarrassing on a detective. I can’t have him moping around with a broken heart when he’s supposed to be strong-arming bad guys. Fix it, okay?”
“This might not be fixable, Karl.” Hearing Janek’s words tugged at me. If he noticed, then Michael was in a bad place, too. And it tugged on my heart, but that didn’t mean there was a solution.
“Sorry to hear that,” he said, this time without bluster or a lightly veiled joke. “You’re good for him. I think your job conflicts are tough, but he’s better with you. Happier with you. I hope you work it out.”
“Thanks, Karl.” That was the first time I’d heard Janek express approval of me being in Michael’s life, and it both warmed me and stung. I knew it mattered to Michael that Janek gave us his blessing, but had he expressed those views to Michael, and did it even matter anymore? I’d expected this conversation to be awkward since there was no way to pretend I wasn’t working around Michael, but warm-hearted Janek rooting for us was something I hadn’t counted on.
“What is it that you need from me, Kellner?” he asked.
“Tell me about the mafia. Is that still a thing here in Chicago?” I said, stealing his water glass again.
He looked at me hard before responding, as if I’d caught him off guard. “Not in the old-school movie way that Hollywood romanticizes, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “There are vestiges of what it used to be. People who hold on to that past. Chicago, as we all know, had its Al Capone years, and that tough guy criminal history hasn’t left some circles. But I wouldn’t say that’s what controls criminal activity. But then we’d need to discuss the subtleties of the definition of gangs versus the mafia. Why do you ask?”
“A story I’m working on has elements that seem mob-like. Or maybe people who seem and talk mob-like.” The conversation felt silly even as I was asking the questions, but Rae’s talk of “the family” and bribery and some construction scheme all seemed to be overlapping into something that made the conversation necessary.
“Can you be specific?”
I wasn’t sure how much to say after Michael’s tepid response to my attempt at engaging him in conversation on the Reynolds case. “Well, some of the elements are men who hang together in a pack. Payoffs. Bribes. References to how important ‘the family’ was back in the day. And lots of secret dealings.”
“That fits the basic mold, all right. What kind of bribes? Or who is being bribed?”
“The usual. Aldermen, government employees.” I was still being cautious, partly because I didn’t want Janek to tell me to get lost, partly because I was afraid to hear my imagination was getting away from me.
“You wanna start some straight-talking here?” Janek sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for me to stop sounding like a child. “‘Cause this sounds like more than a little curiosity. Who’s bribing an alderman?”
“I’m keeping this vague because I don’t have proof yet, and we both know how cops react to maybes, so I think it’s best if I keep this generic for now.” Michael’s dismissive tone came back into my mind, disappointing me all over again.
“I’m not sure I agree with your logic. Seems like the best thing you could do is bounce this off a cop.”
I stared at him. “I tried that, and it didn’t go well.”
“Ah, so you’re looking for a second opinion?” He nodded, suddenly understanding one part of Michael’s recent bad mood.
“Of sorts,” I said. “I actually think our friend was letting his frustrated boyfriend status overshadow what I had to say. So he couldn’t hear me when I needed to discuss this.”
“Then try me. I don’t share that prejudice.” Janek popped a forkful of runny egg into his mouth as he waited for me to respond.
“Okay, but just listen for a minute before you jump and try to give me answers. I’m speaking to you primarily as a friend who has more experience in this area than I do, not as a detective I need to report a case to.”
He nodded.
“First, and most importantly, someone is threatening Cai, and I think whoever is doing so is connected to the murders of the two judges. I don’t know how, or why, but I believe that to be true.”
He sat up straight, his eyes full of concern.
“And Michael didn’t want to hear that?” he said. “What am I missing?”
“The threats against her haven’t been direct enough for his liking. Vague tweets. A newspaper left on her car with an article about Judge Atkinson’s death. He has declined to do anything until there is something more obvious. Of course, we’ve all heard that story before, usually after the fact. I’m not going to be the one waiting for an I-told-you-so moment after my friend is dead. Two judges have been shot, out in the open in broad daylight in the middle of Daley Plaza, a place Cai frequents. So I’m working my ass off to figure out what’s behind all this, with or without his help.”
“Where does Cai fit in these murders?” he asked.
I could see his mind working. Questions forming. The questions Michael would have asked if he hadn’t been pissed off at me.
“That’s not clear yet. But she had cases with both judges, and right after Atkinson was murdered, that newspaper was left on her car. I know it’s a weak association, but I have to consider it a direct message even if there is no specific threat attached. Cai sure is.”
“Is she safe?” he asked. Concern filled his eyes.
“She’s working at home for the near term and staying away from Daley Plaza, but we both know Cai, and it will be hard to keep her there for long.”
“Where does the mafia come in?” He stirred his coffee unnecessarily as his mind worked over what I shared with him.
“The next part of this is that I think there’s a connection between the two dead judges. That the same killer or group was responsible for their murders. I don’t know why they were killed, exactly, and I’m stating my suspicions, not necessarily known facts. I’m stepping into your territory with that comment. And I’m not trying to get you to share details of the case, but sharing my suspicions is necessary in order to answer your question, so bear with me. Anyway, the info I have shows me there are connections between a group of shady people and these judges. The mob-like language has come from these people on the periphery of those two dead men. People who seem to operate on a pat-my-back-I’ll-pat-yours system.”
“Without knowing details, that fits mob-style behavior,” Janek said. “I assume you’re holding back a bunch of stuff, so for the sake of argument, let’s assume you’re correct that we’re talking mafia. Can you give me any more details? I assume you’re investigating the hell out of these people, so toss me some of the highlights.”
“The people I’m talking about are connected via the construction industry and a pizzeria in Elmwood Park called Abbiocco.”
“So the alderman taking bribes is Striker Farnsworth. That fits. He’d sell his grandmother’s dead body if the price was right.”
I didn’t say anything. It was better to let Janek use his well-developed cop brain to draw his own conclusions, in effect confirming mine.
“I don’t know Abbiocco,” he said as the server refilled his coffee and brought me a glass of water. “But if any community has held on to the mob mentality, it’s those Italian oldsters in Elmwood Park. You can’t throw a rock out there and not hit someone who’s got mob lineage going back to the old country. These days, mob activity is mostly small stuff. They leave the drug trade to the gangs, but since you said construction, that pay-to-play shit is rampant all over that industry. It’s another holdover from when the mafia controlled waste management. And even today, paying ‘expediters’ to get a building permit approved is basically legal bribery, so at a base level you have the right industry and the right community to be exploring this, even if I don’t know enough to help you confirm it.”
“And today? Are there any big players? Any recent cases you’re aware of?”
“The only new rumble is that the old Italian guard is being pushed out. Like everywhere in Chicago, the ethnic neighborhoods are becoming more diverse, and that puts pressure on the community in all kinds of ways. Elmwood Park has been an Italian bastion for decades, but increasingly it’s Polish and Russian. That leads to tension in the community and by extension to the mob. What’s left of the Italian mob isn’t happy about the Russian mob trying to exert their influence. And the Russians are far more violent. The Italians, well, they’re more gentlemanly about their crime. I know it’s an odd way to describe criminals, but honor and tradition and family mean something in their history. The Russians are about brute force.”
Rae. Rae’s words came flooding back. That Russian. And the exchange between Felix and Rastello followed right behind. Before she becomes a problem someone else needs to handle. He was talking about Rae. Was she in danger, too?
“One of my contacts referenced a Russian and not in a flattering way,” I said, not knowing what was appropriate to share with Janek. I didn’t have proof of anything, and speculation wasn’t going to get me very far, but I also needed his help. “I didn’t know what this woman meant or who she was talking about, but what you’ve told me about the Russian tension could be helpful.”
My thoughts swung from Rae to Cai to Selciatto to whatever was going on with that land grab.
“Andrea, listen to me carefully,” Janek said, pulling me out of the circles my mind was taking me in. “Don’t go after this. You don’t know what you’re messing with. These guys are a whole new level of mean.”