Applaud the Hollow Ghost (27 page)

“Yeah, we know. Get on with it.”

“Anyway, the answer's no. I don't think they have any idea where she is.”

“No relatives? No—”

“Sounded like her friends are just those ladies, and maybe a couple more like them. And the only living relative they know about—besides her two sons-in-law, who the ladies can barely stand to mention without spitting—is her brother. Guy named Gustavo. I guess he's older than Rosa and treats her like he's her father, even though they say he's a bad man and Rosa's ashamed of him and prays for him all the time. Sounds to me like he might be—”

“Yeah, he is,” I said.

“Is what?” Lammy asked.

“Connected with organized crime,” I said.

“So,” Casey said, “the answer to whether they know where Rosa and Trish are is no. Sorry. Guess I won't be getting my private detective's license anytime soon.”

“Don't be too discouraged. That's the way the game is played,” I said. “You just have to keep on asking, even if the answer's usually no.”

“What the hell,” Casey said, “you sound like me … giving one of my sermons about prayer.”

*   *   *

Two rings. A click. “Leave a message.” Beep.

That was it. Just, “Leave a message.”

So I did. Then I lay on the bed in the room I'd rented on the southwest side near Midway Airport, in a motel that offered a “quiet nap rate.” That meant you could rent the room for as little as four hours. The rate was the same whether the quiet nap was for one person or two. I'd considered a two-hour motel, too, but it looked a little sleazy.

It may not have been smart to call Karen Colter, but my hopes for getting Lammy and me out of our respective tight spots were riding on Rosa, and I'd used up all of my smart ideas for finding her. I had to trust that Karen wouldn't blow the whistle on me. She'd had other chances to do me in, and hadn't. Besides, from her comments that night in the van outside Gus's house, I knew she thought Rosa was right about Dominic attacking Trish. Karen liked Rosa, and she'd helped Rosa reach me. Maybe she'd help me reach Rosa.

A half hour later, Karen called back, obviously from a public phone in a busy place somewhere. She was willing to meet me. Seemed almost eager, in fact—maybe too eager for my own good.

I chose a Bohemian restaurant on Cermak Road in Berwyn, in the dining room on the second floor. The same huge portions were heaped onto the same wide plates as downstairs, with the succulent dumplings and rich gravies just as full of fat. But the upstairs room was smaller and quieter, and the booths—with their high, cushioned backs—offered more privacy. On top of that, it was unlikely there'd be a soul in the place who knew me except the owners—and they owed me big time.

So I was waiting in one of those upstairs booths by a front window, drinking cheap white wine, when I saw Karen arrive in a cab. I didn't see anyone behind her.

The first thing she said, after she tossed her leather coat onto the seat and sat down beside it, was, “How'd you get my phone number? It's a spec— I mean it's unlisted.”

“I'm a private investigator, remember?” Actually, Herb Gatsby's people had finally gotten it for me, and I didn't know how. “Anyway, you're Rosa's friend and Rosa needs my help and I need Rosa's help. So I need you to put me in touch with Rosa.” So much for small talk.

“And you take for granted I know where—”

“Try the roast pork,” I said, as the smiling waitress came up, “with dumplings and red cabbage. Or sauerkraut, maybe. But here I'd go with the red—”

“I'd like a half pound, lean beef patty, well-done,” Karen told the waitress, “and some cottage cheese and lettuce.” She reached across and sampled my wine and made a face. “And bring me a dry white wine that costs about twice as much as that one.”

“And you, sir?” The waitress was tall and thick and dark-skinned and, I decided, wild-looking like a gypsy—but a friendly gypsy.

“I'll go with the roast pork, and—”

“… dumplings and red cabbage,” the gypsy said. “I know. More wine?”

“Thanks,” I said. “I'll stay with this stuff, though. Cheaper wine has fewer calories.”

The gypsy left and Karen stared at me. “It's not true, you know,” she said.

“Are you sure? I thought I read somewhere that wine—”

“I mean it's not true that I know where Rosa is,” she said. “But I can find out, I think. And…” The gypsy was back already. She set two full glasses on the table, scooped up my empty, and hustled off.

“And?” I said, reaching for my glass.

“And I need your help, too,” Karen said. “I don't wanna bleed to death on a hook in some meatpacker's freezer.” So much for small talk.

“My help,” I asked, “when you've got the United States government backing you up?”

“I knew you had things figured out, when you mentioned Anders' name the other night.”

“You might be wired right now, for all I know.”

“I'm not. You'll just have to trust me on that.”

“Or … we could go somewhere and take off all your—”

“Not a chance.” She was glaring at me.

“Just kidding,” I said. “Anyway, you've already got the government on your side. What kind of help can I be?”

“I don't have the
government.
I've got Anders. And he's not on my side. He's using me.”

“What have they got on you, anyway?”

“I'd rather not say. But it's … it's a big problem, and I've got kids. And if I wanna keep custody … well…”

“Fine.”

“Anyway, I told Anders he had to pull me out because I think Gus is on to us, and—”

“Us? You mean
you.
Gus is on to
you.
But not certain, just suspicious.”

“How do you know?”

“You'll just have to trust me on that. But what about Dominic? He's no genius. Is
he
on to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dominic,” I said. “Last name Fontana. Alias Hercules unchain—”

“I know who you're talking about, but…” She shook her head. “You mean, you don't know about Dominic?”

“Apparently not,” I said.

So Karen explained. The gypsy brought our food and while we ate she kept on explaining. I hadn't figured things out, after all. It wasn't Karen, but Dominic, that Anders was relying on to bring Gus down. When I told Dominic I knew his secret, he didn't realize I was talking about Trish. He thought I knew he was working for the FBI, a fact certain to earn him a slow and painful death if Gus found out. That's why Dominic freaked out and went after me.

Karen was just the go-between, posing as Dominic's girlfriend. Anders wanted her to be able to come and go, not living with Dominic, so he'd convinced Tina to put her divorce on hold and let Dominic come back and live at home.

“How did he do that?” I asked.

“It was Tina who first gave the FBI what they had on Dominic. Anders had promised to protect her. Then, once Dominic was away, Anders told Tina she hadn't been enough help and he couldn't protect her if Dominic found out she'd talked to the FBI. He even kind of hinted Dominic
would
find out. But he said if Tina let Dominic back home for a year, that would give Anders a chance to get something serious on Gus—and maybe even somebody higher up. If Tina did that, Anders said, he'd put her and her daughter in a protection program and move them somewhere safe.”

“So she tried to save herself and her daughter. And now—thanks to me—she's dead.”

“Thanks to you?”

“I think someone saw Tina talking to me, and told Anders. Then Anders told Dominic, and…” I suddenly remembered Dominic's alibi for Tina's killing. “Of course, Dominic didn't smash Tina's head against the vise that night in the garage. He was with you the whole time. Right?”

She lowered her head. “I lied. I … we all do what we have to do.”

“Anyway,” I said, “what's different now that makes you want out?”

“Anders is finally waking up that Dominic's not going to be any real help, even though Gus trusts him enough. Gus thinks Dominic went to jail to save his butt. Except that was all a setup. Anders had something on Dominic, way bigger than that gambling business, that nobody—not even Gus—knew about. So Dominic cut a deal, all part of Anders' big plan. But even if Gus lets Dominic in on anything important, Anders knows now that Dominic would never make a good witness. He's too, I don't know, unstable, I guess. And then that thing with Trish … So Anders is gonna try one more thing, something risky, which probably won't work because Gus is too careful, and it'll end up with both Dominic and me dead. The thing is, Anders doesn't care. He's been after Gus so long it's like he's obsessed. Plus, he's pissed-off out of his mind because his plan's going nowhere. He blames me, and Dominic, and even you.”

“Why me?”

“He can't admit it's his own fault. So you're just one more thing that's screwing up his plan. He wants you locked up. And me and Dominic he's just gonna walk away from, leave us hanging out there. He says he won't, but I know he will. Deep down, Anders isn't that much different from the people he's after, if you ask me.”

“So what are you looking for from me?”

“Jesus, I don't know. There's so many things. I mean, I need to convince Gus I'm not an FBI plant, so he doesn't kill me. I need to prove to Anders, or someone, it's not my fault the plan didn't work, so they don't just leave me out there with Gus and Dominic. And I need to keep Dominic from killing me before Gus does if Anders drops us.” She paused. “At least I gotta do
some
of those things, anyway. Or maybe I just need a way to get my butt outta town in one piece.”

“And you think I can do any of that?”

“Probably not, but you're all I got. And you'll try. That much I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, first, you're up to your behind in this anyway, so what's the difference? Second, I risked my neck—twice—to save your skin. You owe me already. Plus when I put you in touch with Rosa you're gonna owe me even more. And you're not the type to walk away from a debt.”

“I'm not sure that's a compliment,” I said. “Trying to repay every debt can drive a person crazy.”

“Oh,” she said, “that's another reason. Anybody crazy enough to help a loser like that Fleming guy, against Steve Connolly and Dominic Fontana, must be crazy enough to help me, too.”

That one I was sure I shouldn't take as a compliment. I was going to tell her that, too. But then I saw something in her eyes. I'd seen the same thing in Tina's eyes, but I was surprised to see it in a hard case like Karen. I'm always surprised—which is always foolish. Because what I saw in her eyes was fear, and nobody who's sane is immune.

She caught me looking, and she knew what I'd seen. And then she gave up. She let the tears flow into her eyes along with the fear. “I've always been real strong,” she said. “Always the tough one, that's Karen. But it's so hard being on your own all the time, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

“I had these kids, and their father was gone, and … anyway, I did something real stupid. I … I took some money, from a bank where I worked. I thought I was helping my kids—two of 'em. Boys, you know? Still little guys. And now here I am. I got caught and now here I am. And I'm scared I'm not ever gonna see my babies again.”

CHAPTER
36

K
AREN TRIED THE SAME
avenue I'd tried, only her real last name was Colonelli and she spoke pretty good Italian and maybe that's why she was successful. By Friday she'd found out from one of Rosa's friends where Rosa was hiding.

It made perfect sense once I heard where she was. Rosa obviously hadn't planned her getaway, but she'd acted shrewdly once she made her sudden decision. She wanted Trish with her, away from Chicago and Dominic—and even Steve—while she tried to figure out what to do. They'd run from the rectory with the bingo money she'd taken, and nothing else but the clothes they were wearing. Knowing the cops would be looking for her, she must have gone straight to the Greyhound station. She selected an out-of-state destination that offered plenty of places where a woman and her granddaughter could stay several days at a time without drawing attention to themselves. Orlando might have come to my mind first. But Rosa's idea was better.

No one would have pegged her as much of a country music fan, and that may have made Branson, Missouri, even more attractive as a place to hide. Taking a cab from somewhere near the rectory, she could easily have made the bus that leaves downtown Chicago at midnight, heads all the way south to Memphis first, and then switches back up to Branson, arriving at six-thirty in the evening.

I called and found Rosa more than willing to talk to me. Although she was one tough lady, and not your ordinary grandmother, she was still plenty worried about what she'd done. She was staying in touch with one of her rosary cronies, but had been gone nearly five days and knew she'd have to act soon. Both of her own daughters were dead, and she was determined to provide a better life for Trish, and for Lisa, too, the teenage daughter of Tina and Dominic.

Rosa told me she knew she needed Gus's help. She planned to meet with him, she said, not only to reveal Dominic as the child molester, but also to try to convince Gus that Steve wasn't capable of being the parent Trish needed. She seemed to be trying out her ideas on me.

Aware that he counted Dominic among his more loyal people, Rosa knew that Gus wouldn't easily accept the idea that Dominic, not Lammy, had attacked Trish. That's where I came in. She hoped I'd found some evidence to support her. I assured her the meeting was a good idea, and said I had facts, things I couldn't talk about on the phone, that would help convince Gus. But I'd have to be at the meeting, too.