Gabriel stood in the large, carpeted anteroom outside Cira’s office chatting with the mayor’s driver, Monroe. Small talk about mutual acquaintances on the job, who was retiring, who was moving up, who was slipping up. Soon they fell into silence. So much they could say about the city, the gangs, the kids on the street. But what was the point? It was a job like most jobs. People in other professions sorted through ideas, data, or fresh fruit, retaining the good, disposing of the bad. The criminal justice system, for which cops were the point men, did it with people.
Soon the double doors to the mayor’s office opened and Cira stepped through with homeless shelter impresario the Reverend Norris Pritchard and two corporate execs, judging by their tailored suits and bright demeanor. After bidding them goodbye and exchanging words with his secretary seated in the expansive outer office, Cira led Monroe and Gabriel down the marble staircase, through the lobby, and outside to his Lincoln waiting on the east side of the building. Once inside the car Cira said to Monroe: “M.A.C.”
The Missouri Athletic Club—membership by referral only—was located some eight blocks northeast, a ten-story, hundred-year-old building that overlooked Eads Bridge and the Mississippi River. Gabriel had never been referred. Just as well. The YMCA he could afford, not this, with its gourmet restaurants, luxury guest rooms, and squash courts. Its barroom had won a rare exemption from new anti-smoking laws. It was often where deals went down downtown—if one was in the position to deal. And today, for once, Gabriel felt he was.
The locker-room attendant found shorts and a tee shirt that fit Gabriel. Shoes were a problem but he finally located some size twelves in the lost-and-found.
Gabriel joined Cira on the indoor track that circled the gymnasium—deserted at three in the afternoon—jogging by his side.
“You keep in good shape, buddy,” the mayor said.
“If you like pears. Thirty pounds over my playing weight.”
“Which was what—thirty years ago?”
“I’ve been trying the low-carb diet.”
“I’m just trying to keep things where they are: some weights, a little jogging…”
“I hate jogging. Going up and down the court, fine. Not running around in circles.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary to circle back, Gabriel, to cover your tracks.”
Gabriel looked at Cira, but that was all the mayor had to say on the subject for now.
Back at their lockers they wrapped towels around their waists and found an empty steam room. Cira pressed a button on the wall and steam began to billow from radiators. As he sat, Cira said, “Figured this was a good place for us to talk.”
Gabriel grabbed his towel as if to discard it. “Want to do a cavity search?”
Cira laughed. “Can’t be too careful. We need total confidentiality on this. Not even Donnewald needs to know.”
“Know what?”
He fixed Gabriel with a stare. “How we’re going to deal with Stone.”
“I’m dealing with it.”
“You’re dealing with it? What the hell’s going on? I thought you had him under control. What’s he talking about yesterday? He doesn’t have anything.”
“Maybe he does.”
“What do you mean?”
Gabriel sat. “I think he has backup files.”
“You ‘think’?”
The thick steam made Gabriel cough. “I’ve been playing ‘good cop.’ After he buried his wife, we had drinks and he spilled his guts. Claims he’s hidden copies somewhere.”
“Get them, whatever it takes.”
“Believe me, I’m trying. I’m just saying it may not be easy.”
“Get them. Even though he got half the stuff illegally, he could cause problems. And we don’t need him stirring up shit about his wife’s connection to me and her suicide. I need this election. It’s closer than the wise guys think, and Holmes has something up his sleeve. My word from D.C. is that the president might come to do the ribbon cutting on Holmes’ halfway-house project—that is, stab me in the back for being on the wrong side in his primary run. Fucker. Bottom line, Carlo, if I don’t get this election then my Stadium Towne deal—which the city needs—is finished, along with everything else I’ve worked for.”
“I hear you.”
“If Holmes got his hands on this stuff … Shit,” Cira shook his head and looked away.
Gabriel took in a deep breath. “And something else, Ange. When he was schnockered, Stone alluded to something really explosive. I tried to pump him on it but he clammed up tight. I don’t know what it is—photos, audio, documents. Could be anything. He’s one of those computer geeks.”
“That son of a bitch. With all this computer stuff around these days who knows who’s got what anymore. Hard to do business. We got to stop him.”
“Maybe some real-world education would do the trick.”
“What are you talking about?”
The steam’s hiss brought to mind the image of a serpent. Then the Garden of Eden. Forbidden fruit. Temptation. Knowledge.
“If he learned his wife didn’t kill herself, it might give him pause, might make him step back, reconsider everything.”
Cira studied him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gabriel kept going.
“Don’t bullshit me, Ange. If I’m going to do your dirty work, don’t be blowing smoke up my ass. If I can persuade him that you or yours pulled the trigger, I think I can get him to cough up the backup files. Just look at him. The guy’s a pussy. He’ll he shitting his pants.”
Cira covered his face with his palms and sat frozen, elbows on his knees as the steam swirled around him. “That’s what you get when you fuck around with amateurs. His wife was the same. As soon as she learned what he’d been up to, she panicked. Worried about her schmuck husband’s whereabouts and welfare. Talking about going to the F.B.I. Dumb of her to tell me. Jesus H. Christ. Did she think I was going to let her go to the feds?
Gabriel swallowed. “I need a scenario, something to make him a believer.”
The steam sputtered to a halt. Gabriel waited. His heart raced, blood thrummed in his ears. At last Cira spoke without looking up.
“Okay. Here’s a plausible one. That night I spoke at the Martin Luther King dinner at the Chase. Afterward I called her from a phone at the hotel and told her we had to talk. I walked across the street into Forest Park where she picked me up. Had her park where there’d be little traffic. I knew she carried the Seecamp in her purse since she always had to lock it away when we traveled. Afterward I walked home. It took less than fifteen minutes. Good enough?”
“I can fill in the blanks.”
“Tell him whatever works.” Cira looked up. “Shouldn’t be that hard. But once we’ve got the files, I don’t want him having a change of heart. He might have backup files. We can’t trust this guy. He thinks he’s too smart.”
“Meaning what?”
“He needs to vanish for good this time.”
Though but a few feet distant, Cira appeared like an apparition through the steam.
“I hear you but—”
“I need you to come through for me, Carlo. Like you used to.”
“There’s risk.”
“You’re a smart cop. You know how to do things.”
“Big risk deserves big reward.”
“I said I’d take care of you.”
“The price has just gone up.”
Cira stared at him. After some seconds he said, “Name a figure.”
“I was thinking seven figures.”
“You’re fucking me.”
“I gauge that’s just Ellen Cantrell’s share. If I pull this off, the best place for me is south of the border. Early retirement. I’ve come to hate the goddamn winters. Summers suck too.”
“I should assign you to the Tourist Bureau. Look, Carlo, I can’t get that kind of cash together without leaving a trail a mile wide.”
“I trust you for it, Ange. It doesn’t have to come upfront or in a lump. I plan to have a long retirement. Just dribble it to me.”
“All right. We’ll figure something.”
“And one other thing. We’re partners again. We do it together. I don’t want my ass hanging out to dry. No middlemen. Hand-in-hand so we have the omertà in full operation.”
“You’ve already thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I figured it was coming. You’d already said as much, so yeah, I’m looking out for me, Ange. But I’m looking out for you, too. I’m not going to let this little weasel take either one of us down. Besides, I’ll be up to my neck in it myself.”
Cira leaned across and put his hand on Gabriel’s bare knee. “But it has to happen now, Carlo. Can’t give Stone any time to figure out how to fuck us. We need to move fast. And it has to be clean. This all needs to be washed away quickly. Got it?”
Suddenly the steam kicked back on.
“Got it.”
“Good. Set something up for tomorrow.”
“Not much time.”
“You know some places. This guy has to go back in the river.”