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Authors: David Housewright

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Penance (26 page)

BOOK: Penance
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“I hate bankruptcies,” Cynthia told me as we walked down Marquette.

“Then why do them?” I asked.

“People need help,” Cynthia said. “This economy, over a million people will file this year.”

“That’s discouraging.”

“It’ll probably get worse,” she said, then added, “I’m not hungry. Is it okay if we just walk?”

“Sure.”

She took my hand. Yeah, walking was fine. We strolled down the avenue hand-in-hand, looking in the windows, not speaking, comfortable in our silence. Eventually we reached Orchestra Hall and then crossed over to Peavy Plaza, where we sat on the stone steps and watched tourists tossing pennies into the fountain. There were maybe three dozen people gathered around the fountain, most of them brown-bagging it. Cynthia leaned back against the stone, her eyes closed, her chin pointed up at the noon sky. After a few moments she said, almost sadly, “Did you know I made eighty thousand dollars last year?”

“Really?” I asked.

“I’ll probably gross even more this year,” she said. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Then why do it?”

“It’s an identity thing, it’s being able to say, ‘I’m a successful attorney.’ That can mean a lot. Especially to a woman.”

“I understand,” I said.

“No insult intended, Taylor, but I doubt it. I really do.”

She was probably right.

After a while, she said, “I wonder where Joseph Sherman is.”

“Someone is hiding him,” I speculated. “If he’s still in the state, most likely someone is hiding him. But he’ll turn up. After a few days he’ll become bored with the hole he crawled into and come up for air; he’ll try to make a life for himself. When he does, the cops will take him. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Can you find him?”

“Probably. Give me enough time. Only I doubt that it’s worth the effort. If he wants your help, if he wants mine, he’ll find us. That’s the only way it’s going to work.”

“Do you think he killed John Brown?”

“He had opportunity. Motive? Hell, I’ve busted guys who killed people because their radios were too loud. The important question is, did Sherman also kill Amy Lamb? My gut tells me no, but my gut has been wrong before. There’s also Dennis Thoreau to consider. I’m conducting a computer search even as we speak to see if there’s something, anything—a name, an address—that links the two men. You can bet the ranch the cops are doing the same thing.”

“I know why the police care. Why do you?” Cynthia asked.

“About Brown and Thoreau? I don’t. But whoever killed them probably killed Amy Lamb and I do care about that.”

“Why?”

“I feel partly responsible.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“You’re not one of those macho guys who keep all their emotions inside, are you?”

“I show my emotions,” I reminded her. “I showed them just the other night outside Le Chateau. If I recall, you weren’t too happy about it.”

“Don’t remind me,” she said.

We did not speak for a long time after that, not until Cynthia asked, “Are you really a strong, silent, hard-boiled character, or are you just posing for me?”

“Posing?”

“Gary Cooper, Humphrey Bogart, Robert Mitchum.”

“Robert Mitchum? I don’t think so.”

“Time will tell,” she said.

I reached out my hand and Cynthia took it. We retraced our steps, walking back to the office tower that housed the Federal Bankruptcy Court. This time the silence was awkward; we were both waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Cynthia said, “Will I see you tonight?”

I thought she’d never ask. “That can be arranged,” I answered.

She nodded. “We are going to get involved, then.”

“We already are involved.”

“One night isn’t involvement,” Cynthia said. “It’s exercise.”

“You’re very cynical, you know that?”

“If a woman doesn’t want to see a man, she has to tell him not to call and usually that’s not enough; she also has to give reasons. It’s easier for a man. You don’t want to see a woman, you just stop seeing her, stop calling, no explanations. After a few weeks the woman realizes she’s been discarded. That happens to a woman often enough, yeah, she becomes cynical.”

“I understand,” I told her and she shook her head—there I went again, saying I understood when I probably didn’t. Only this time, I did. Absolutely.

I let go of her hand when we reached the office building. We stood outside the revolving door and kissed each other and pressed our foreheads together and I asked, “Do you really make eighty thousand dollars a year?”

“See, now that’s the kind of sweet talk a woman likes to hear.”

TWENTY-FOUR

M
OST OF THE INFORMATION
I wanted on Dennis Thoreau was already in my e-mail when I returned from lunch. There was a time when I hated computers, when I looked upon PIs who used them with utter contempt. Now I don’t know how I managed without one.

A quick skim gave me an outline of Thoreau’s life and times.

NAME: Thoreau, Dennis Reese.

SSN: 473-00-8118 is valid; subject has not used other SSN.

SEX: Male.

PARENTS: Raymond and Alice (Reese) T.

FAMILY: Married Meghan Chakolis; divorced after eight months; no children.

EDUCATION: H.S., Irondale, New Brighton, MN; Attended University of Minnesota; no credits.

CRIMINAL: Dis. Con., Prescott, AZ, fine & time served; DUI, Modesto, CA, fine.

CIVIL LITIGATION: No record.

DRIVER’S LICENSE NO.: Info to come.

DRIVING RECORD: Info to come.

VECHILE REGISTRATION: Info to come.

CURRENT EMPLOYMENT: Salesman, AAA Printing, 91000 Washington Ave., Minneapolis, MN 55402.

PREVIOUS EMPLOYMENT: Info to come.

FINANCIAL: Current credit cards—Info to come; Chapter Seven Bankruptcy, Federal Bankruptcy Court, Salina, KS.

REAL PROPERTY: Info to come.

CIVIC/POLITICALACTIVITIES: No record. Still searching.

MILITARY: No record.

GROUPS/CLUBS/ORGANIZATIONS/AWARDS: No record. Still searching.

POLITICAL/RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: Subject is not registered to vote; raised Methodist.

CURRENT ADDRESS: 24889 Dayton Ave., St. Paul, MN 55105 (rental property, Stephen J. Kirkus, private owner).

PREVIOUS ADDRESSES: 1127 Desnoyer Dr., New Brighton, MN; 25026 27th St. S., Minneapolis, MN; 881 Gondola Blvd., Enid, OK; 98½ President St., Prescott, AZ; 11600 Hempstead, Salina, KS; 170 Eureka Curve, Modesto, CA.

(List of six neighbors with names and phone numbers for each address above available upon request.)

“I’ll be damned,” I said aloud.

I went back to the PC. This time I did the work myself, accessing a national information service that specialized in biographical data. I input my instructions and waited, listening to the clicks and whirls of my machine.

Scanning, please wait …

Scanning, please wait …

Scanning, please wait …

        Scan completed.

Press (return) to see your results … ->

Biographical Information scan results for: MEGHAN CHAKOLIS

PRESS TO SEARCH RESULTS

Format Source Type

Academic American Encyclopedia 0 full text directories

American Men & Women of Science 0 full text directories

EduDATA 1 full text directories

Everyman’s Encyclopedia 0 full text directories

Marquis Who’s Who in America 0 full text directories

S&P Register-Biographical 0 full text directories

H Database descriptions

M Main Menu

SOS on-line assistance

System is now searching the EduDATA database, copyrighted 1991

by EduDATA Education Data Service, Chicago, IL

Accessing network…………………………Completed

Accessing Database Host………………Completed

Logging on……………………………………..Completed

Logging on (second step)……………….Completed

Selecting Database………………………….Completed

Submitting Search……………………………Completed

Retrieving the only full text article available on that subject.

^S/^Q: stop/start; ^T: Paging ON; ^C/(esc):

interrupt (^=CTRL/CONTROL key)

00093478 WA42, WA43, WA44 Record

provided by: EduDATA

*Chakolis*,*Meghan* (Chakolis, Meghan Marie)

OCCUPATION(S): public relations practitioner.

BORN: New Brighton, MN.

PARENTS: Thomas and Carolynn (Pivec) C.

SEX: Female.

FAMILY: married Dennis Thoreau, divorced, children—none.

EDUCATION: B.A., U. Minnesota, degree journalism, theater. M.A., U. Minnesota, degree journalism. Summa Cum Laude, Phi Beta Kappa, National Honor Society.

CAREER: Assistant public relations director, St. Catherine Memorial Hospital, MN; Public relations director, Concern HMO, Minneapolis, MN; Director House Information Office, MN House of Rep., St. Paul, MN.

CIVIC/POLITICAL ACTIVITIES: Campaign director Carol Catherine Monroe (elected House of Representatives).

POLITICAL/RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: Methodist.

ADDRESS: 1237 Glendale St., Brooklyn Center, MN.

“Taylor,” I said aloud, “you are the dumbest human being alive.”

TWENTY-FIVE

“W
OULD YOU LIKE
some coffee, Mr. Taylor?” Dot Ladner asked.

“Thank you.”

“Decaffeinated all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I can’t drink the other stuff no more. I get nervous.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dot filled a generous mug, set it in front of me and waited for me to taste it. I did. It wasn’t anything special.

“Delicious,” I said.

“Cookies?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Thank you, no, ma’am.” I patted my stomach. “Have to stay fit.”

“Oh yes, of course. I’m sorry, what did you want to know?”

“How long has Ms. Chakolis been residing here?”

“Eight years come January.”

“And you’ve been caretaker the entire time.”

“Oh yes. Like I told you before, the building is owned by my nephew so I have plenty of job security.”

“Was she living alone during the incident with Joseph Sherman?”

“Meghan? Yes, except when her husband was visiting.”

“Her husband?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Dennis Thoreau?”

Dot shrugged. “Dennis was his first name, I didn’t know his last name. I always figured it was Chakolis. You know, when I was a girl, you took the husband’s name and you kept it.”

“Yes, ma’am. However, my information suggests that Ms. Chakolis and Dennis Thoreau were divorced in March of 1980.”

“Mine, too.”

“You knew that?”

“I knew they were divorced, I didn’t know when.”

“Yet, Thoreau stayed with her?”

“Personally,” the old woman said, leaning close, “I think he was trying to patch it up with her.” Then she leaned back and added, “Very nice boy, well mannered.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Oh, six years ago. Back, like you said, when that business with Joseph Sherman took place. He left right afterward. I was sorry to see him go, too. I could have used his help.”

“You and Dennis were friends?”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Mr. Taylor.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Dennis was young enough to be my own son.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Although he was as cute as the dickens.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We would talk is all and watch the soaps together. Sometimes he would bring doughnuts. He was very concerned about Erica.”

“Erica?”

“Erica Kane. On ‘All My Children.’ Are you sure you won’t have some cookies?”

“No, thank you. Why did Dennis leave? Did he tell you?”

“Meghan threw him out.”

“Is that what he said?”

Dot took a bite of cookie and answered through the crumbs, “That’s what she said.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, but I think it was pretty sudden. One day they were a happy couple, the next he was packing.”

Meghan Chakolis led me down the tunnel that connected the State Office Building with the capitol. The tunnel was brightly lit with video cameras and emergency call boxes every hundred feet.

“Tell me about Dennis Thoreau,” I told her.

BOOK: Penance
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