“Uh, you want me to get Jeremy?”
“I wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay.”
Ted glanced at his watch and then back toward Bruce. “Well, I really should finish setting up.”
“C’mon, you got at least an hour before the show starts. I need to talk to you about your pal James. I think he’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Ted took a few steps toward me.
I said to Bruce, “Can I borrow Ted for a few minutes?”
Bruce shrugged. “Ask Ted.”
“C’mon, let’s talk outside.” I moved toward the door. Ted stayed put. I satirically added, “Don’t you want to know what kind of trouble James is getting you into?”
Ted untied his apron, folded it carefully, then laid it on the bar. He followed me out the door, to the side of the building that was bordered by an alley. I noticed a silver chain looping out of his pocket. The chain had that sturdy, tarnished, long-lived appearance.
“This has to do with Tanya,” I said. “I think James is hiding her.”
“No, he’s not,” Ted said.
“How do you know?”
“Because I would know. I’ve been to his place. He’s got roommates. We all know each other. There’s nowhere to hide.”
I pretended to think about it. “Does he ever go to your place?”
“Yeah.”
“When’s the last time he was there?”
Ted shrugged. “I don’t know. A few weeks ago?”
The front door opened. Jeremy appeared, then looked around. “What’s up, Ted? You got all the prep done?”
Ted moved to go back inside. I grabbed his arm. “We’re having a private conversation,” I said. “I just need a few more minutes.”
Jeremy put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Are you ever going to disappear from my life, Landau?”
“I think soon, actually. But just as you have a
private
client coming by later—which is none of my business, of course—I need a few more minutes of private conversation with Ted.”
Jeremy crossed his arms then looked at Ted. “Do you have a key to the reserve wine cabinet?” he said.
Ted pulled the silver chain out of his pocket. Numerous keys hung from a circular metal fob attached to the end. But what made the chain most interesting was that the fob also perforated the middle of a wine cork.
Jeremy looked through the keys, removed one of them, handed the chain back to Ted, then walked inside.
“I should get back,” Ted said. “I don’t want to piss him off.”
“Is that an antique pocket-watch chain?”
“It is,” Ted said. He seemed impressed. “It belonged to my great-grandfather. At least a hundred years old.”
“And you have a cork on the fob. What’s that about?”
Ted grinned. “It’s like a good luck charm, I guess. I want to learn as much as I can about wine.”
“You’re smart to drill that hole in the middle of the cork. Less chance of it breaking if you snag it while pulling it out of your pocket.”
Ted searched my face. “Yeah, probably.”
I stared laser beams into Ted’s eyes, then grabbed his arm again when he took a step to go back inside. “When you called me to ask about Tanya, you said you didn’t know what Spike had been up to since Doug closed the bar. But that wasn’t true, was it?”
“I wasn’t sure. I mean, I saw him around, but I didn’t know what he was doing—”
I grabbed Ted by the collar, pulled him into the alley, then shoved him against the wall. “You were in the alley behind the Oriental Theatre. You hit me on the head with that two-by-four.”
“I—I swear, it was Spike’s idea. I didn’t want to do it. Then Jeremy begged me. He said he would guarantee I’d become a sommelier, you know, teach me everything about wine. He just wanted me to stun you, so we could have a head start running away. I—I’m sorry if I hit you too hard. I swear to god, I didn’t want—”
“Okay, shut up.” I eased up my grip but kept ahold of his collar. “Tanya’s staying with you, isn’t she?” Ted looked like he was going to cry. “If you care about her, you’ll tell me where you live.”
“I can’t. I swore—”
I pushed him back against the wall. “Listen, Teddy, I know you feel real close to her, like she’s your girlfriend. She’s probably taught you a lot about sex. I bet all you think about is the next time you’ll be climbing into bed with her. But here’s the thing. She has a boyfriend and he’s in town looking for her. Believe me, you don’t want to fuck with this dude. And there’s a big, scary gangster who’s in town for one reason only: to find Tanya. So you’re gonna tell me where she is, and just be happy to have memories you’ll forever cherish.”
I let go and stepped back. His collar and bow tie were out of whack. “She’s just waiting for some money,” Ted said. “She said last night that she’ll be gone soon. I promised her she could trust me. Now you want me to ruin—”
“Did you notice how Jeremy backed down? He didn’t really care you were out here with me on the day of a wine tasting. That’s because I know about a little transaction taking place tonight. Do you know about it?”
“He’s selling some wine. We carried it into the locker.”
“Exactly. That’s Tanya’s money. Your old boss Doug is going to deliver the cash to her. And that’s fine. I
want
her to get the money and get out of town. But her boyfriend Eddie wants to join her. He’s paying me to help him run away with her.” Not completely true, but so what?
Ted looked crushed. “She never mentioned this to me.”
“Why would she?”
“She told me everything.”
Ted needed a thrashing. “The gangster guy is the one I’m worried about. His name is Sergeant Blake and he wants to find Tanya
real bad—
get it? Why don’t you tell me where she is so I can make sure Eddie finds her first?”
Judging from the grim look on Ted’s face, I think he got it. “Look. I—I don’t really know you. But I know Tanya is safe where she is. Once Doug gives her the money, she’s gone. When she’s settled, she’ll call me.”
“Don’t be stupid. Doug will be followed by a Fed and probably this Sergeant Blake. Spike and Jeremy can’t be trusted. You realize that, don’t you?”
Ted didn’t immediately respond. A bad sign. “They’ve always been cool to me.”
Jeremy stuck his head out the door. “Ted,” he shouted, “we need you inside.”
“He’ll be right there!” I shouted back. “What have you told Spike?” I said. “What does Spike know?”
“Nothing. I mean, he knows that I know where Tanya is. That’s all.”
“That’s all, huh? Well, if she’s at your Lincoln Park apartment, Spike and Jeremy also know.”
Dazed, Ted said, “She’s not there,” then walked back into the wine bar.
Chapter 50
Still no answer from Eddie’s phone. Spike didn’t answer either.
Back in Brenda’s café, I called Amy. “Spike brokered a deal for Margot’s wine to be sold tonight at the Auvergnat Vin Bar. Doug will give his share of the money to Tanya so she can flee. Doug either knows where she is, or he’ll find out when he calls her.”
“Okay,” Amy said. “I’ll follow him. I’m sure Tanya knows enough about the illegal wine biz to justify me taking her in. What time?”
“What do you mean,
take her in
?”
“In custody. To protect her.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not sure, but at least she’ll be safe from Cooper’s reach.”
“Great. And how long is it going to take to put Cooper and crew away? And what if the Feds can’t prove their case? Then she’s stuck in witness-limbo land.”
“She’s in limbo right
now
with someone trying to kill her! Wouldn’t she be better off with us watching her back?”
The barefaced truth of Amy’s words humbled me. “You’ve got to assume Sergeant Blake knows about this deal and is going to follow Doug to Tanya.”
“Why would Spike tell Sergeant Blake?”
“Because he’s a punk fool who wants to impress Cooper. Anything he tells Sergeant Blake gets back to Cooper. In this case, he brokered a great deal on bogus wine and made a bunch of money.”
“Try to relax. What time is the deal taking place?”
“I have to talk to Tanya before anyone finds her. Maybe she hates Eddie’s goddamn guts! But I can’t stand by if I think Sergeant Blake is going to kill her. If Doug can get her the money, she needs to go, Eddie or no Eddie. Dumbass isn’t answering his phone. If I don’t find her before the others, I don’t think it’s gonna end well. But she could be anywhere in the city.”
“Jules, you need to stay calm.
Nobody
knows where she is?”
“This little shit named Ted knows. He works in the bar. He’s the last link I have to Tanya, but all he’ll say is that she’s not at his apartment.”
“Jules, tell me when the buyer is coming.”
“Tonight, between five and six. How’re you going to case that whole place by yourself?”
“I didn’t say I’d be by myself. Okay, one more thing to consider. Is it possible Tanya found a place to hide that’s
not
in the city?”
—
James’s deadpan look of disgust almost evoked a laugh. I stood in line as he rang up customers and shot me the evil eye as I inched closer.
When it was my turn, James seethed, “I don’t fucking—”
“Where is Ted’s parents’ house? The mansion on the lake?”
“Highland Park. Why?”
“Do you know the address?”
“I got it written down somewhere. Why?”
“Because I think that’s where Tanya is.”
I stepped over to the coffee waiting area. James continued with his job, looking somewhat thoughtful, which I took as a good sign. After he finished with the next customer, I poked my face back over the counter and said, “I’m heading down there. Call me with the address.”
I walked away knowing if James didn’t call, I would call him or I would call Ted and, if necessary, find a way to sufficiently threaten him. One way or another, I was going to find the mansion on the lake.
—
Named for a Civil War general who once said,
The only good Indians I ever saw were dead,
Sheridan Road ran from the North Side of Chicago to Wisconsin, and included a twenty-two-mile stretch parallel to Lake Michigan sometimes called “Chicago’s most exclusive address.” Many street names of these exclusive addresses were borrowed from General Sheridan’s good Indians. One such name was Cherokee Road, where I stopped my car to stare at a house no longer resembling the one I grew up in, although the half-timbered façade was reminiscent of the English Tudor style I remembered.
It was about two o’clock. I took a photo of Tanya out of my wallet and put it in my pocket. Then I drove a few blocks east, to one of the many parks that bordered the cliffs above the beaches. The day was bright and sunny, the lake refreshingly blue, the vegetation lightly green with awakening buds. Such imagery practically compelled nostalgia. I saw myself as a kid, rummaging through the numerous ravines of the area, looking for the imaginary source of an imaginary river.
My phone vibrated Amy’s name.
“I can’t do anything that will influence Tanya’s behavior,” Amy said.
I waited for more. “But she knows about the phony wine. I thought you—”
“I can’t tell you anything more. I’m sorry. I’m sure you can figure out what I’m saying. Okay?”
Amy waited for a response. “Okay,” I said. She hung up.
Eddie didn’t answer. Neither did Spike.
I’m sure you can figure out what I’m saying.
I sat entranced on a park bench, thinking of reasons why Amy was ordered to stand down. Some kind of Fed operation was going to take place. If that was true, my presence at the mansion on the lake might be problematic.
James’s call startled me. “What do you got?” I said. He gave me an address that dead-ended on a street above a private beach. I knew the street thanks to years of ravine exploration. All ravines led to the lake, after all.
“Let’s say she’s there,” James said. “Then what?”
“I make sure she’s okay, then report back to my employer.”
“What if she’s not okay?”
“You’ve been a big help, James. I promise to give you a full report when my job is done.”
—
There were no cars parked on Bunnybrush Lane. Only on twisting driveways or through an open garage door was a vehicle visible. A car as old and shabby as mine clearly didn’t belong on Bunnybrush Lane and there may have been an ordinance stating such.
The house itself was at the end of the street, set back and partially embedded into the side of a steep slope, maybe fifty yards from where the ravine opened up to the beach. Looking down from the edge of the property, I saw a glass wall of what must’ve been a stunningly verdant living space.
Since the wine transaction would not take place for a few more hours, the idea of ringing the doorbell had very little appeal compared to traversing a muddy slope to play secret agent. Slowly, I made my way, gouging the sides of my shoes into the hill, until I reached a steel column lining up with the left edge of the glass, the first of several columns supporting a balcony stretching the length of the second floor. On the wall, a huge flat-screen television played a home-and-garden show to a living room of sleek, modern furniture.
From the adjoining dining room, a young woman appeared, holding an iPad and a bottle of soda. She had caramel brown hair that reached her shoulders. A white sweatshirt fell untucked over tan stretch pants. She chewed gum with her mouth open.
I tried to focus on her features, but she was just beyond the range for positive identification. Tanya’s photo-booth picture seemed to have the same facial structure as the woman who now sat with her legs folded underneath herself on a swayback chair facing the doorway. She wrapped her gum in a paper napkin then began reading something on the iPad.
Loose stones crunched and popped. A car door closed. I began retracing my steps along the muddy furrow I had created walking to the column, but stopped when I heard knuckles strike repeatedly on wood, followed by several muted chimes. The door opened. Male and female voices talked over each other, the female voice louder, exasperated, but gradually deferring to a more composed male voice. The door closed. On my way back to the column, the drone of a piston engine from above caught my attention. I looked up, saw a small helicopter, then slipped, smearing mud along the side of my hip and thigh. A shiver raced through me. Ravines had a cold, unforgiving nature.