We reached the address in Dearborn Park at ten thirty. I pointed at the gray-clapboard-and-brick walk-up on my side of the street. “This is it.”
Frank parked, and we got out. There was nothing remarkable about the duplex, but it appeared clean and well taken care of. I glanced at the address on my phone again. Leslie’s was the second floor unit. We took the seven wooden steps to the porch, and I rang what looked to be a camera doorbell for the upstairs apartment.
I was surprised when somebody actually answered. “Hello, can I help you?”
“This is the Chicago police. Is this Leslie Adams’s residence?”
“It is, and mine too. I’m her sister. What can I do for you?”
“We need a minute of your time.” We held our badges up to the camera and waited.
“I’ll be right down.”
I gave Frank a side-eyed glance. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Me neither, but you did ring the bell.”
Seconds later, a fresh-faced girl who couldn’t have been over twenty, her black hair twisted into a topknot, pulled open the door. She wore a baseball shirt and denim shorts.
“Leslie would kill me if she knew I opened the door to cops, but I’m worried about her. She didn’t come home last night.” She tipped her head. “Come on up.”
After we were seated in the living room that was cramped with too much furniture, I pulled out my notepad. “What is your name?”
“Gina.” She noticed me looking around the room. “Sorry about the apartment. I just moved in with Leslie last month, and it’s kind of tight quarters. I had enough of my abusive boyfriend, and Les offered her place.”
“That was nice of her, but where are your parents?” Frank asked. “You can’t be very old.”
She smiled. “Well, thanks, and I’m nineteen. Our useless folks are crack addicts who live from hand to mouth. They kicked Leslie out when she turned eighteen and me at seventeen.”
“And Leslie is five years older than you?”
“Yeah. My existence was a mistake, and I was reminded of that my entire life.” She frowned. “So, why are you here? I really am worried about Leslie since she always comes home.”
“What kind of work does Leslie do so late at night?” I waited with my pen suspended.
Gina stared at her folded hands. “Um. She’s an entertainer, I guess.”
“Entertaining men?”
Gina nodded. “She’s going to kill me for telling you that.”
I gave Frank a quick glance. Explaining the reason for our visit was becoming harder as the minutes passed. “Gina, does Leslie use drugs?”
“Of course not! Leslie is as clean as it comes. We know firsthand what that stuff does to people.” Gina sighed. “I know her occupation is illegal, but it’s purely because of financial need. She saves everything she earns, and it wasn’t like our folks were going to put us through college.”
Frank gave me a head tip, meaning he’d make the death announcement. “Gina, Leslie died last night. We’re so sorry to have to tell you that, and we’re sorry for your loss.”
Gina’s face contorted. “What—Leslie is dead? No, that’s impossible. We talked and hung out before she left for her appointments last night!”
Frank gave her a shoulder pat. “And when was that?”
Gina squeezed her head between her hands. “I don’t know. Ten o’clock, maybe.”
“Did she say what areas of town she was going to?”
“No, and I don’t have a reason to know that. Leslie was protective of me, and she said the less I knew, the better.”
Frank let out a sigh. “We need your help to find out why she was killed.”
“You mean someone deliberately killed her? Was it the man she went to visit?”
My shrug told her I didn’t have all the answers. “We have no idea who she went to see since her purse and phone were missing. A passerby saw her in an altercation with two men behind a group of condos and called 911. When the officers arrived, the men were gone, and Leslie was dead at the front of one of the units on North Peoria. Do you know the man’s name she was going to see?”
Visibly shaken, Gina was nearly inconsolable. “No, I don’t.” She stared at the ring on her finger then sobbed openly as she spun it. “We have matching heart rings because we’re always in each other’s heart. Now I have nobody. What am I supposed to do? Leslie was my only sibling and like a substitute mother to me. Where do I go? How do I live? I don’t have an education. I need my sister!” Panic was consuming Gina. “I may as well be dead too.”
Frank took over. “Shh, don’t say things like that. You have a lot to live for, and you can help us find her killer. Did Leslie keep an appointment book?”
“No.” Gina reached for a tissue from the dispenser on the side table and blew her nose. “Everything was on her phone.”
“How about a computer?” Frank asked.
The tears slid down her cheeks and dripped to her shirt. “No.”
I took my turn. “Did she work for somebody, or did she make her own appointments?”
“She knew ladies from the Lone Stallion, and they introduced her to guys for a cut of her hourly rate.”
I assumed I could find out more from my fellow officers in the prostitution and vice unit.
“Okay, that’ll help. Had Leslie ever mentioned a john who was angry or threatening toward her?”
“Of course, but she brushed it off. She said it was a risk of being in her profession. She never mentioned names, though. Leslie was tough, but it wasn’t like she was going to make that her lifelong occupation. She just wanted a financial cushion.”
“Do you know how many appointments she had last night?”
“Two or three. That was the usual, anyway.”
“Do you have a job, Gina?” Frank asked.
“No.”
“Do you have a clean record?”
“Yes. I can’t afford to live here, though. I don’t know what to do.”
We stood. “You hang tight and stay safe. We’ll look into Leslie’s financials. Maybe she had a savings account. Can you get us her bank information?”
Gina left the room for a minute and returned with Leslie’s bank account number. “She did all her banking on the phone, but here’s her account number.”
“Thanks.” I put the slip of paper in my jacket pocket. “I’ll see what she has in her account and look into free programs that can help you get work skills. One last thing. I need names of people Leslie knew. Last names, too, if you know them.”
Gina wrote down several names, but none included last names. “All I know is that most of those people work at the Lone Stallion.”
“Okay, thanks.” I handed her two cards. “Keep one for yourself and write your number on the other one for me. You can call me anytime, understand?”
“I do.”
I pocketed the card she wrote her number on. “I’ll keep you updated on our progress.”
She thanked us, and Frank and I reluctantly left.
“Damn, that wasn’t easy.” I fastened my seat belt and glanced at the second-story window. Gina was looking out and lifted her hand with a slight wave as we drove away. “Poor kid.”
“So now what? Are we going to talk to ladies at the Lone Stallion or check the camera footage at the Halstead and Grand Avenue subway exit?”
I tipped my wrist and checked the time. “Neither right now. Mr. Grimes is scheduled to show up in a half hour for that interview with us. Hopefully, he remembers a more detailed description of the perps. After we get that, we’ll compare our notes with the subway footage.”