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Authors: Thomas Laird

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The machine narrowed my list to three, and they still seemed likely. Each one of them.

Of the women, Ellen Jacoby was the nastiest. She had killer eyes. But we might have seen Janice Ripley on downers. Maybe she sprouted fangs when she took amphetamines. There was no telling unless you were there. And the recent graduate of Wellington College — Caroline Keady. Was she the corrupt rich, slumming with a piece of shit like Jimmy Preggio because she actuall
y
kne
w
how deadly he might be? Did that float her fucking boat?

I was getting headaches from trying to sort all these men and women out. What I had to do was simplify. I had to pick a pair, and then go for their throats. This was the selection process that Doc and I talked about. You always had the terror of hopping on the wrong trolley. It was like a confidence game. The dealer had three cards. The Queen of Spades was one of the three. His hands shuffled them so deftly, so quickly, that often you were fooled about where that dark lady was hiding. 

And sometimes the dealer cheated. Sometimes he palmed the Queen. Sometimes the game was a fix.

‘Three little sweethearts. And one of them is giving it up for free to our guy. The more I think about it, the more I like your selections, Jimmy.’

He had just grabbed hold of me before I fell off this cliff on whose edge I had been standing. He had reached out and snatched me before vertigo took over. I didn’t feel quite so dizzy now.

‘But of the three pairs, it’s anybody’s guess. I mean really, I don’t have a favorite, and that is no shit, Jimmy P.’

The Lake water was grey-blue. Winter was closing in on the city, and the Farmer’s Almanac was predicting a bull bitch of a season for us this year. We’d had it easy, the last few years.

‘We put twenty-four hour surveillance on the women. We let the males think we’ve loosened the knot. We watch the girls, and one of them leads us right where we want to go,’ I told him.

‘Let’s hope he’s not all copacetic with the Internet, Jimmy. Let’s hope he’s not quite ready to go back out into the field yet.’

‘He felt the heat on his neck when the girl almost got picked, at the Zoo. He’ll lie doggo until he thinks the heat’s turned down to low. He’ll try to outwait us. This guy needs to do what he does, but he’ll wait until he thinks he can get away with it a little more easily.’

I felt my confidence soar. All that backsliding with Dr Gray had disappeared. My gut and my head were telling me we were headed in the right direction.

Three women, three criminals.

It came to me as I saw the Sears Tower ahead of us:

What if one of the females had a record? What if one of the girls had a jacket for us to read up on, downtown? 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

He was a mass of tubes. Somebody had shot him as he walked out of the lube place where he worked. I found out about it during the second half of my midnight shift.

Doc came down to St Luke’s with me. Jack was left on the phones downtown until we could find out what the hell had happened to Billy Ciccio.

He was in serious but stable condition, we learned as we arrived at his room. The doctor was on his way out. Seemed that Billy took two .22 caliber hits, one to his left shoulder and the other to his lower back.

‘They woulda put it in the back of my head, Jimmy, if I hadn’t heard them come up from behind me out in the alley. Then I started to run and they tried to pop me anyways.’

He looked pale, but not as bad as I thought he’d look with two rounds in his back.

‘This is about your thing, Jimmy. I know it is. Somebody thought I’d put the finger on them around here, and they were takin’ me out. I know it.’

‘Just take it easy. We’ll take care of it, Billy.’

Doc stood by the door. He was never a big fan of my cousin, but I could see some concern on my partner’s face.

‘You’ll take care of it? This is one of our things, now. How’r
e
yo
u
gonna take care of things?’ 

‘I’ll find out who it was. I’ll take him.’

‘You ain’t gonna clip any of these bastards. I oughta know. I’m one of them!’

‘Take it easy, Billy ... The guy who came up from behind you. You never caught a glance at him?’

‘Hell, no. I went down and played dead. And I’m fuckin’ lucky he didn’t waste a coupla more rounds makin’ sure I was out. But I heard him hurry past me. I saw the backs of his shoes, and that was that.’

‘It’s because you talked to me, wasn’t it?’

His tired face aimed itself at me.

‘I can’t think of nothin’ else that’d get two .22s in my back end.’

‘So I’m going to tell you how we save your ass,’ I told him.

‘Yeah? I’d like to hear that.’

‘Listen, Billy. You want to keep on breathing, the only way to do it is to help me find this guy who’s been using the knife. He was the guy with the gun, and if it wasn’t him personally, then he’s got somebody inside who’s working with him. You want to keep living, you better get more aggressive about finding out just who the hell he is.’

‘You got me into this, cousin.’

‘Saying sorry’s not going to help you out, Cheech. This time you’ll have to help me and yourself. I never wanted you in harm’s way. You know that.’

‘So I’m your guy on the inside ... And what else do you want me to find out?’

‘I’m Homicide, Billy. I’m only interested in one case. I told you. I’ll let the Feds put you and your crew away. You want to steal, you deal with them. But I told you the truth. I never wanted to see you get hurt. And now the only way to make things right is to help me.’

He was far more tired now than he’d been when Doc and I got there. I had to let him rest.

‘Will you do it, Billy?’

He looked at me and I saw that he was watering up as if he was going to cry. 

‘Like I got a fuckin’ choice?’

‘I don’t think the cutter’s a member of your crew. He’s not Sicilian, I don’t think. He’d be an associate, or he’d be tight with a crew member, but he’s not a blood brother ... You have to try and remember who you pumped to get me the stuff about Imperial Products of Bridgeport. The guy you talked to and the guys he talked to. You know how to follow a rat trail by now.’

‘Yeah. I do. I just hope I get up that fuckin’ trail a ways before somebody gets a better shot at my fuckin’ noggin.’

‘I’m sorry about all this, Billy. But this guy’s been killing other people. Two women and a doorman, so far. We’ll keep an eye on you until you get out of here. You call me if you need anything. I’ll keep coming in until you leave. Then I won’t do any more face-to-faces with you. You won’t need a cop up next to you when you go back to the crew. Right?’

I reached out and grasped his right hand. If things had been different, I might’ve wound up where he was. In the Outfit, I mean. I’d had my opportunities when I was as young as he was, when he joined up. A lot of the guys he hung with I went to high school with. Some of my old classmates were dead or behind the wire now, too.

I walked over to Doc at the door.

‘You cops are always fuckin’ with people,’ Billy lamented.

I looked over at him and smiled, and I was wondering if he’d get back to where he started. Whoever popped him wouldn’t be satisfied with scaring the guy. He wanted my cousin dead.

*

The search for information on the three women led us to a file on Caroline Keady, the rich girl from Lake Forest. She’d been arrested twice for possession of marijuana. Both charges were dropped at the insistence of her very prominent attorneys, I was sure.

The other thing was a weapons charge against Janice Ripley. She was caught with a .32, trying to board a plane to San Francisco. She was hauled in and then later placed on probation.

We found nothing on Ellen Jacoby. Not even a traffic beef. Which confused me. None of these three were choir-girls. I’d expected to find a little something on each of them. So we’d come up somewhat empty.

Which was the smarts of The Farmer showing. He wouldn’t want someone with a sheet being his partner. Paper trails were how you got caught. Statements, documents, IRS return forms. Paper nailed your heinie. So he picked something close to a virgin, as far as the state was concerned.

I was looking at Ellen Jacoby. I knew her face. It was still bothering me. But the memory wouldn’t come to me. Her face was maddeningly familiar.

Suddenly I made a tiny connection with her. It had to do with Billy Ciccio. Maybe with his cousin, Danny Ciccio. But that was as far as I could take it. Then it all crumbled in front of me. If I wanted Danny Cheech’s help, I’d have to go to Joliet and have a talk with my second cousin, but I didn’t have the time right now. Maybe Billy would recognize her from the photos we had of the three women. I made a mental note to ask him when he was feeling stronger.

The women were only a little bit tarnished, and Ellen Jacoby was the cleanest of the three. That was why I liked her. She was a front, not substance. Something had to be underneath her exterior. Something past that ‘come fuck me’ look that she liked to throw toward any male in her vicinity.

One of these females was hooked to The Farmer. I knew it in my blood. It had gone beyond the gut and into my veins, and if I could remember where it was that I’d first seen Ellen Jacoby, maybe I’d be able to find the Queen of Spades that was hidden beneath one of those three facedown cards. 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Al
l
i
t
take
s
i
s
th
e
wor
d
tha
t
we’r
e
u
p
an
d
runnin
g,
an
d
I’
m
bac
k
i
n
busines
s
agai
n.
Sh
e
tell
s
m
e
we’r
e
aboar
d
th
e
Interne
t
an
d
I’v
e
se
t
u
p
sho
p
withi
n
hour
s
.

Colleg
e
campuse
s
ca
n
b
e
crowde
d,
bu
t
laboratorie
s
an
d
librarie
s
ar
e
no
t
th
e
mos
t
popula
r
place
s
t
o
b
e
afte
r,
sa
y,9.
0
0
p.m.
Thi
s
colleg
e
campu
s
i
s
onl
y
thre
e
mile
s
fro
m
ou
r
farmhous
e,
s
o
i
t
i
s
ver
y
convenien
t
fo
r
m
e.
Te
n
minute
s
an
d
I’
m
ther
e.
Fiftee
n
minute
s
t
o
operat
e,
an
d
I’
m
o
n
m
y
wa
y
hom
e,
produc
t
stowe
d
.

Th
e
geolog
y
la
b
seem
s
t
o
b
e
th
e
mos
t
unpopula
r
classroo
m
o
n
campu
s
o
f
thi
s
universit
y.
Ther
e
ar
e
onl
y
tw
o
student
s
an
d
on
e
facult
y
membe
r
stil
l
her
e—
apar
t
fro
m
m
e.
I’v
e
secure
d
a
gra
y
wor
k-
shir
t
wit
h
‘Ralph

sew
n
abov
e
th
e
lef
t
breas
t
pocke
t.I
spen
t
las
t
nigh
t
checkin
g
ou
t
th
e
maintenanc
e
cre
w,
an
d
th
e
schoo
l
ha
s
n
o
particula
r
precaution
s
whe
n
i
t
come
s
t
o
securit
y.
Thei
r
staf
f
ar
e
no
t
ID’
d.
A
t
leas
t,
no
t
wit
h
laminate
d
card
s
attache
d
t
o
thei
r
shirt
s
an
d
blouse
s
.

S
o
I
wal
k
i
n
wit
h
a
broo
m
an
d
I
avoi
d
th
e
rea
l
maintenanc
e
ma
n—
Car
l—
who’
s
stil
l
workin
g
o
n
th
e
lab
s
i
n
th
e
biolog
y
win
g
.

Finall
y
th
e
tw
o
femal
e
student
s
depar
t,
an
d
I’
m
lef
t
wit
h
th
e
associat
e
professo
r
who’
s
com
e
dow
n
her
e
t
o
grad
e
paper
s.
It’
s
quiete
r
her
e
tha
n
i
n
th
e
librar
y.
I’v
e
bee
n
t
o
th
e
librar
y
previousl
y,
to
o
.

Sh
e
look
s
u
p
a
t
m
e
an
d
smile
s,
an
d
I
retur
n
th
e
expressio
n.
She’
s
ver
y
youn
g
fo
r
m
y
taste
s.
Perhap
s
i
n
he
r
lat
e
twentie
s
. 

She’
s
probabl
y
jus
t
receive
d
he
r
Ph
D
an
d
she’
s
stil
l
a
g
o-
gette
r
wh
o
grade
s
he
r
ow
n
wor
k
withou
t
th
e
ai
d
o
f
a
Teachin
g
Assistan
t.I
fee
l
somethin
g
lik
e
regre
t
tha
t
she’
s
th
e
on
e
who’
s
her
e
wit
h
m
e,
bu
t
th
e
feelin
g
quickl
y
fade
s
sinc
e
thi
s
i
s
a
busines
s
matte
r.
An
d
she’
s
clos
e
enoug
h
t
o
th
e
righ
t
ag
e.
Th
e
memorie
s
com
e
bac
k,
an
d
wha
t
struc
k
m
e
a
s
a
passin
g
sympath
y
ha
s
vanishe
d.I
ca
n
se
e
he
r
th
e
wa
y
I
sa
w
th
e
othe
r
tw
o.I
ca
n
impos
e
tha
t
portrai
t
o
n
he
r
fac
e,
jus
t
a
s
I
di
d
wit
h
Delore
s
Winsto
n
an
d
Geneviev
e
Malon
e.
Thi
s
geolog
y
professo
r
o
r
instructo
r
fit
s
th
e
bil
l
.

I
g
o
ou
t
int
o
th
e
hal
l
an
d
I
wal
k
towar
d
th
e
biolog
y
win
g,
her
e
i
n
th
e
scienc
e
buildin
g.
Th
e
plac
e
i
s
no
w
deserte
d.
It’
s
a
Frida
y
nigh
t,
s
o
al
l
th
e
undergraduate
s
ar
e
a
t
th
e
bar
s
o
r
a
t
som
e
dormitor
y
part
y.
O
r
they’r
e
ruttin
g
wit
h
a
mat
e
i
n
thei
r
littl
e
garret
s
somewher
e.
Bu
t
the
y
hav
e
lef
t
thes
e
premise
s.I
fin
d
th
e
maintenanc
e
ma
n
sittin
g
a
t
th
e
teacher’
s
des
k
i
n
on
e
o
f
th
e
classroom
s
i
n
th
e
nex
t
win
g.I
ca
n
hea
r
hi
m
snorin
g
fro
m
th
e
hallwa
y.I
po
p
m
y
hea
d
int
o
th
e
classroo
m,
an
d
I
se
e
tha
t
h
e
i
s
indee
d
aslee
p,
hi
s
forehea
d
restin
g
o
n
th
e
des
k
to
p
.

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