Dirty Martini

“I’m sorry, Jack. I like Latham. You’re going to say yes?”

“Yes.”

Herb smiled. “Congrats. If you need a maid of honor, I look great in pink. And your father isn’t dead?”

“He lives in Elmwood Park. My mother admitted that he left us, and she told me he died to stop me from looking for him.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No.”

“But you’re going to?”

“I don’t know. I-”

I heard my phone beep. Herb handed me my purse, and I checked the number. The Hothams’ stolen cell.

“It’s the Chemist,” I told Herb.

He picked up his notepad and put his head next to mine so we could both hear. I answered the call, made my voice strong.

“This is Daniels.”

“I’m glad you’re still alive, Jack. You’ve got a great set of lungs on you, if I may say so. How are you feeling?”

“We’ve agreed to pay you. What are your demands?”

“I asked you a question, Lieutenant. How are you feeling?”

I spoke through my teeth, anger masking all of my symptoms.

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I want you personally to deliver my two million. Here’s how it will work. I want a hundred thousand dollars in cash, three hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars in platinum eagles, and the remainder in uncut diamonds, at least three carats per stone. No tricks, no transmitters, no laser-engraved serial numbers on the stones, no moissanite, you get the idea. If you screw around with me, I’ll be very angry. Put everything in a leather suitcase, and paint it bright yellow. Then stand outside the Daley Center, near the Picasso, at ten thirty a.m. tomorrow. Got all of that?”

I looked at Herb, who was furiously scribbling notes. He nodded at me.

“I got it.”

“Good. Have your cell phone on you, and wear some ru

“I know about Tracey,” I said, trying to catch him off guard. “And Dirk Welch. You killed him in prison. Were you cell mates?”

There was a pause.

“I’m pla

He hung up. I stared at Herb. He didn’t say a word, but I could read his mind.

Burglars don’t call you up and threaten you and half the city. Robbers don’t spray poison in your face and put you in the hospital. Thieves don’t attack the people you love.

Yeah, well, he was right. But I couldn’t do anything about it.

A nurse opened the curtain and stuck her perky head in.

“We’ve got a room available, Ms. Daniels.”

I might have protested, demanded to be released, but the nurse divided into two identical nurses and I wasn’t sure which to talk to. Earlier, I’d been told to expect double vision. It wasn’t as much fun as I’d hoped it would be.

“Herb, I hate to ask…”

He held up his notes. “I’ll pass this along to the super. We’ll work out the details. You get some rest.”

“Thanks. Also, in Records, I was looking for the Alger case file for Tracey Hotham’s murder investigation. The Chemist was in the box. I don’t know if he took it or not. If he did, we need to see if the records are still on file at the two-four.”

“I’ll check.”

“There was a guy named Welch involved, died in prison.”

“Jack…”

“I know. We’re not partners anymore. Pass it off on a subordinate.”

Herb nodded, gave me an informal pat on the shoulder, and left.

I asked the nurse(s) for some water, and she gave me a cup and took my blood pressure. As she did, my whole body began to shake. First mildly, and then it became violent enough to make me spill water all over my bed.

“She’s seizing!” the nurse yelled.

A doctor rushed over while the nurse forced something rubber between my teeth. Then I couldn’t see anything else, because my eyelids were fluttering too fast.

“Administering diazepam push.”

I felt a calm flow through me, and the convulsions stopped. The nurse fished out the mouth guard, and I squinted at her, trying to focus.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re fine. TEPP can cause seizures. We gave you some Valium, which will work with the atropine and pralidoxime to relax your muscles.”

“Thanks,” I said. I was pretty freaked out, but the Valium went a long way to helping me over that.

The nurse draped a dry blanket over me, then promised to be back shortly. While I waited, my phone rang again. A blocked number.

“This is Daniels,” I said. My voice sounded kind of thick.

“Hiya, Jackie. How’s it hanging?”

Harry McGlade.

“Hi, Harry. How’s the space suit?”

“A tax write-off. I cornered your superintendent, and she threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t vacate the scene. A real piece of work, that one. Feisty. If her cankles weren’t the size of hams, she’d be my type of woman. Speaking of dates, are you going to PoliceFest on Sunday?”

“No.”

“How about going with me? The mayor will be there, and you could get me an audience. He likes you, right?”

“I’m not going.”

“Of course you’re going. Every cop in the Midwest is going, and this year it’s in Illinois.”

“Every cop but me.” I gri

“You owe me one, Jack.”

“Ask the super to take you. Maybe she’ll do it if you promise to rub lotion on her cankles.”

There was a long silence, which was unusual for Harry.

“Jack, I… I gave up my business. No more private investigating.”

“Chicago will never get over the loss.”

“It isn’t fu

“What does that have to do with your hand?”

“Dammit, Jack, my life is destroyed. Show some sympathy.”

Maybe it was all the medication, or the residual effects of the TEPP, but I actually felt for him. “That’s too bad, Harry.”

“If the city doesn’t let me open up this bar, I might as well shoot myself. And I’d need your help doing that too, because I’d miss my fricking head.”

“You think? You have a pretty fat head.”

I laughed at my drug-influenced assessment. He did have a fat head.

“Take me to PoliceFest. Introduce me to the mayor. Help me get the liquor license. And I promise, I’ll never bother you again as long as I live.”

“That’s a tempting offer.”

“We were partners once. I know I did wrong by you, but I’ve helped you out several times since then. Please. I need this.”

Harry McGlade had caused me more a

“Fine, McGlade. But I can’t promise the mayor will go for it.”

“Thanks, Jackie. I’ll drop by Sunday morning. You still at the place on Addison?”

“No. I’m a suburban girl now. I live in Bensenville.”

I gave him my address.

“See you Sunday. Maybe afterward I can buy you a beer.”

“Maybe.”

“And after that, sex.”

“Good-bye, Harry.”

“I’ve got this attachment for my prosthesis-”

I hung up before he could finish. Then I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, thinking about PoliceFest with Harry…

PoliceFest with Harry? What the hell was I thinking?

Maybe I’d get lucky, and the Chemist would kill me tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to go.

I fell asleep, strangely comforted by that thought.