Lincoln Perry 02 - Sorrow's Anthem (25 page)

“We still need to go through them,” I said. “Sensitive or not.”
His eyes flashed at that, a brief, cold glimmer, but he nodded.
“Sure. That’s what I like about you. No back-down quality in
you, right? None. Aren’t a lot of guys that I’ll say that about. I respect
that. And that’s why I had my guys bring you down here. I’m
going to give you all the answers you need. And they’re the ones
you want, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you your answers, and then you get the hell out
of here, stay gone. Because I simply cannot have you doing this
anymore. Those fires, they don’t matter anymore. Terry Solich told
you that, himself. No need to involve police or anybody else at this
point.”
So Solich had made the call. It didn’t surprise me. By the time
we’d left his house, I’d had the feeling he was worried, and pondering
some damage control. Apparently, he’d decided reporting to
Cancerno was the best option. Knowing Solich had made the call
was good, though. It told me Cancerno was probably oblivious to
my dialogue with Dean and Mason. The less he believed me to
know, the better.
“You tell everyone all you’re interested in is Gradduk,” Cancerno
said. “That’s good. That’s all you need to be interested in. You get
too interested in me, it won’t be any good at all. And at the end of
the day, it’s not about me.”
“Who’s it about?” Joe said.
“Mitch Corbett.”
“Explain.”
Cancerno braced his arms on the desk. “You said you want to
know how it went down with Gradduk. I’m telling you it’s all about
Corbett. Son of a bitch dragged me into it, but it’s not about me.”
“Corbett killed Sentalar?”

Cancerno nodded. “Would be my guess.”
“Why?”
“Because Gradduk was talking to her. Gradduk was trying to
take Corbett apart.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me that. The night before he died.”
“I’d heard Ed and Corbett were friends,” I said.
“They were.
“So what happened?”
Cancerno looked at the little window in the door, which was
now covered with raindrops. “I told Gradduk about something
that happened a long time ago. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t have
told him, maybe.”
A man told me a story. What story? The one he didn’t want to tell. “What did you tell him?” I asked.
“I didn’t know Gradduk well, but I knew Scott Draper,” Cancerno
said. “Draper recommended Gradduk to me, said he needed
work. I gave him work. This isn’t unusual for me. Guys come to me
needing a favor, I help them if I can.”
“Friend of the people,” I said.
Cancerno’s face went ugly, and any sense of ease that had seeped
into my body as he’d begun to explain things to us leaked right
back out.
“You don’t mock me, prick,” he said. “You don’t say a word. Not
if you want to walk back out the door. That van outside doesn’t have to take you home.”
For a moment there was nothing but an electric silence. Then
Joe broke it.
“I’m sure he’s sorry. Didn’t mean anything by it, did you, Lincoln?”
I
shook my head slowly. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”
Cancerno’s glare didn’t lessen, but after a moment he began to
talk again.
“I hired Gradduk. A few weeks passed, and I ran into him
down at the Hideaway. We all drank together, shot the shit. I
liked the kid. Later on I found out he was hanging around with
Corbett. That bothered me. It wasn’t right, not with Corbett’s history.
The next time I drank with Gradduk. . .” Cancerno
shrugged. “I told him some things he probably shouldn’t have ever
heard.”
“What things?” I was leaning forward now, Cancerno’s last outburst
all but forgotten. This is what I’d wanted to know days ago,
what Ed might have said if he hadn’t been killed in the street before
he’d had a chance to tell it to me.
“I knew a guy used to see Gradduk’s mother. It went on for a
while, while she was married. Then she tried to end it. This guy,
he’s not the most stable son of a bitch you ever saw. Violent.
Mean-tempered. Holds a grudge. Anyhow, he promised the Gradduk
woman he was going to take her life apart. She laughed at
him, told him to get lost. But, this guy, he’s not the type that makes
empty threats. The man settles his scores.”
“What’s this have to do with Corbett?” Joe said.
“I was getting to that. This is where I come in. I had Corbett do
some work for me. A few . . . projects that I needed handled.”
“You hired him to burn Terry Solich out of business and out of
the neighborhood,” I said.
Cancerno looked at me with empty eyes. “Corbett took care of
these projects for me, then set Gradduk’s father up. This was at the
request of the guy I was telling you about. It wasn’t my idea.”
Thunder rolled close to the building, making the door rattle
against its frame. Out in the warehouse, men were laughing. The
smell of cigarette smoke drifted into the office.
“It was Jack Padgett,” I said. “The guy you’re talking about. He
could make the setup happen because he was a cop.”
Cancerno didn’t speak.
“I want you to confirm that,” I said. “Otherwise we’ll go out and
do it ourselves. But you know it was him, and so do we.”
“You don’t tell me what to say,” Cancerno snapped. “I’ll tell you
what I damn well want to tell you, kid. And you’ll keep your mouth
shut. You understand that I’m doing this as a favor to you? As a
courtesy? Believe me, I got other ways to deal with you. Didn’t
need to have you brought in here for a talk.”
I met his cold eyes. For a long time he just sat and stared at me.
The laughter from the warehouse had stopped as soon as Cancerno
had raised his voice again. I had the feeling his voice could
make a lot of things stop.
“So Norm Gradduk committed suicide, and Padgett was still
harassing Alberta,” I said softly, still meeting his stare. “Ed found
out about it, probably. Then my father did. He made a complaint,
and people scrambled to cover up for Padgett. Mike Gajovich
came down and convinced Alberta not to go public with the complaint.”
Cancerno’s
eyes narrowed. “You’re talking beyond me now. I
don’t know what the hell happened after Gradduk gassed himself
in the garage.”
“That’s what happened,” I said.
Another clap of thunder, this one louder than the last. A gust of
wind followed it, howling around the old warehouse. Cancerno
leaned back again, put his feet back up on the desk.
“That’s what I told Gradduk,” he said. “And I shouldn’t have
told him. But I didn’t like it, knowing that he was becoming buddies
with Corbett. It didn’t seem right.”
“And a woman died for this?” Joe said. “I’m not seeing the connection.”
Cancerno
shrugged. “Not my job to help you see it. But I can tell
you Gradduk had a serious hard-on for Corbett after I told him
what I did. Then the woman went down, Gradduk went down,
Corbett took off. Last night he sets my houses on fire. You see
what I’m saying about this guy being the center of it?”
“Corbett burned the houses?” I said.
“You’re damn right he did,” Cancerno said. “No doubt in my
mind. He had access to all of them, too. Would’ve been easy for
him.”

“Why do it?”
Cancerno smiled, and it was one of the least appealing expressions
I’d ever seen. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No more answers.
I gave you the ones you needed. The ones you don’t need
stay with me.”
“The one I need the most, you haven’t given me,” I said. “Why
was Anita Sentalar killed? You said Ed was trying to take Corbett
apart, but not how. You say Corbett killed her, but don’t say why.
That’s not enough. I need to prove it. Right now it’s still on Ed,
and I’m not letting it sit there. Someone else is going to answer for
it. Ed deserves his justice, whether he’s alive or dead.”
Cancerno slid his feet back off the desk, stood up, and walked
around to face us. He looked hard at my face.
“You want justice for your friend?”
“That’s right.”
“You going to find Corbett?”
“Yes.”
He kept staring at me, then nodded. “You find Corbett, and I’ll
see that your friend gets his justice. And when that’s done, you can
work out whatever story you want to give the cops and the reporters.
I’ll deal with it.” His dark eyes were filled with fury. “But
first you find him. You call me. Tell me where he is. And then I’ll
see that your friend gets his justice.”

CHAPTER
25

He left us in the office while he stepped out into the dark warehouse.
Joe and I didn’t say much while he was gone. It wasn’t an
environment that encouraged conversation. Cancerno was gone
maybe five minutes before he returned, trailed by Ramone and the
mountain man. The old guy who’d driven the van wasn’t with
them, but I heard an engine start up outside.
“They’ll take you back now,” Cancerno said. “I hope this visit
straightened some things out for you. Hope it made some things
clear.”
We got to our feet, and Cancerno pulled the door open and held
it. Outside the sky was still dark, but the rain had held off. Warm
air whipped around the parking lot, blowing dust and bits of fine
gravel in our eyes. I squinted as I stepped through the door. Joe
came out behind me, Ramone and the huge guy on his heels. The
green van was running already.
When we were outside, Joe turned to Cancerno. “Tell you what,
we’re going to pass on the ride this time. Thanks, though.”
“What?” Cancerno said.
“We’ll take care of ourselves,” Joe said. “Got a few stops to make
around the neighborhood, anyhow. Then we’ll catch a ride back.
Don’t need to trouble your employees here with the task.”
Ramone, standing close to Joe, turned and looked to Cancerno
for instruction. Cancerno leaned against the doorframe and tilted
his head, studying Joe.
“You don’t trust me? I bring you down here, tell you things you
want to know, and you don’t trust me?”
Joe shook his head. “That’s not the issue. But seeing as you’re
such a trustworthy guy, I expect you’ve got no problem letting us
go on our way here. Don’t take it as disrespect.”
Cancerno considered it for a moment, then shrugged and
stepped back into the office. “You got it. Go on and walk home in
the rain, if that’s what suits you.”
The door closed behind him. Ramone gave us one last long stare,
then turned and reached for the doorknob to follow Cancerno.
“Give me back my gun, Ramone,” I said.
He didn’t say anything, but walked back out to the van, leaned
in the open window, and said something to the guy behind the
wheel. Then he stepped back with my Glock in his hand. I walked
toward him, hand outstretched. When I was almost to him, he
gave the gun a toss. It sailed over my shoulder and clattered on the
pavement.
“Thanks, asshole,” I said. He smirked, walked into the warehouse,
and slammed the door shut.
I picked my gun up, dusted it off on my pants, and placed it
back in its holster. Joe was standing beside me, shoulders hunched
against the wind, eyeing the sky.
He began to walk toward the street. “Interesting conversation,
huh?”
“Damn interesting,” I said.
“You buying it?”
“What he said about being the one who told the old story to Ed,
maybe. It’s the trigger that got all of this rolling. When Ed started
to explain it to me, he said a man told him a story. I asked him
what story, and he said, the one he didn’t want to tell. Cancerno
was regretting it today. Admitted he’d hesitated to tell Ed about it
in the first place.”
Joe nodded, walking fast as we rounded the corner of the building
and came out on the sidewalk.
“Some bad blood between Cancerno and Corbett, that’s for
sure,” he said. “And until this morning we didn’t have a logical motive
for last night’s fires. But understanding there’s conflict between
Cancerno and Corbett, it might fit. Why’s Corbett care if half the
police department rolls out to look at those fires? They’re just going
to focus on Cancerno. Be a hard sell for someone like Cancerno
to convince investigators he had nothing to do with it, you know? A guy like that is an ideal smoke screen for Corbett.”
“And what does it gain for Corbett?” I said.
“Gives him a way to come at Cancerno. Because it seems the man
is awfully scared of Cancerno. He’s hiding, afraid to use his credit
cards, afraid to go home. Cancerno didn’t hide how bad he wants to
find the guy—basically offered to kill him if you do the finding. So
maybe Corbett’s returning fire. Making a preemptive strike, rather.”
We were walking east down the sidewalk, Joe moving fast and
purposefully. I realized I had no idea where he was going. It certainly
wasn’t in the direction of the office.
“You weren’t so sure the van’s intended stop was the same as

ours?” I said.
“Don’t like being a passenger. Besides, we got places to go.”
“Yeah?”
“You catch what Cancerno said when he got to explaining why
he’s so sure Corbett burned those houses?”
“That he had access to all of them.” “Uh-huh.” We reached an intersection but caught the light right, walked

across the street without a pause.
“Well,” Joe said, “suppose you were hiding from some people.
Suppose you were so scared you wouldn’t use your credit cards or
bank accounts or seek help from friends. Where would you go?”
I turned to face him, slowed my pace. “You’re thinking the
houses?”
He shook his head. “No. There’s work being done on them, people
from Cancerno’s crew going in and out, neighbors watching.
And, hell, most of them burned down last night, probably at Corbett’s
hand. Think beyond that.”
“The school.”
He nodded. “Huge old building, sitting empty. Locked up, but
Corbett’s got the keys. No work scheduled to begin on it for
months yet.”

“That’s where we’re going?”
He shook his head. “No. First we’re going to find a convenience
store. I think we’ll need a flashlight.”

The ground-floor windows were securely boarded up, the doors
fastened with heavy steel chains and new padlocks. Entry into the
building wasn’t going to be easy for someone without a key. And
while Corbett might have had one, we did not.
Joseph A. Marsh Junior High had once been a gorgeous
building—three floors of brick walls with limestone inlay around
the doors and windows on the outside; on the inside, oak woodwork
and tile floors built with a skilled craftsman’s greatest care.
Everything in the blocks around the building had been knocked
down and rebuilt at least twice in the lifetime of the school, and I
figured that would be true for several more cycles. As we circled
the building, looking for a point of entry, I remembered trudging
through the grounds in sun, snow, and rain, Ed and Draper generally
beside me. We’d been part of the last classes at both Joseph A.
Marsh and West Tech, and looking back on it, there seemed to be
something damned appropriate about that—Ed and Draper and I
were the last vestiges of the old neighborhood, in a lot of ways.
“Basement window,” Joe said, coming to a stop and pointing.
There was a narrow window just above the foundation, and while
there was a piece of plywood over it, the corner was raised, showing
that someone had pried it away.
I knelt beside it and hooked my fingers under the edge, gave it
an experimental tug. The board rose easily, with a harsh scraping
noise. I put both hands under it and yanked harder, and this time it
came free.
“You know what’s down there?” Joe said.
“The metal shop.”
“Metal shop in a junior high?”
“This school fed into West Tech, so they had more trade offerings.
Hell, Tech even had a foundry. There was a time when classes
like that got some kids jobs when they came out of school.”
“That time was a few decades ago, LP.”
“You think it’s an accident that the school closed?”
He passed me the flashlight. I stretched out on my stomach and
extended my hand, shining the light into the dark room. A musty
smell rose at me, but there was more to it than that—the scent of
metal and stone and, somehow, of heat, even though it had been
years since any activity had taken place here. I passed the beam of
the flashlight around the room, saw nothing other than old boxes
and bare walls.
“We’re good,” I said. “Little bit of a drop to the floor, but not
bad. Six feet from the window, maybe. Think you can make it?”
“I can make it.”
“All right.” I went first, sliding my feet through the window,
then shoving my upper body in and dropping. The floor came up
faster than I expected, giving me a jarring landing. I turned the
flashlight back on and showed the floor to Joe, who was leaning
down, eyeballing his entrance. He slipped through the window and
dropped down smoother than I had. Thirty years my senior and
still he moved with an athlete’s grace.
“You remember your way around here?” he said.
I nodded while I passed him the flashlight and freed my gun
from its holster. “Well enough, at least.”
“Lead the way, then.”