Chapter 4: Investigation

An ordinary roadside newsstand barely stood out on a busy Chicago street.

“Any news?” asked a man in his early forties.

He was addressing the short, stout man beside him, who had just picked up a newspaper, rather than the owner of the stand.

The short, stout man said nothing. He merely glanced back and gave him a meaningful look, then set off.

Five minutes later, Frank, underboss of the Genovese family, and Officer Arthur were sitting side by side on a bench at the edge of a square, both looking down as they fed the pigeons.

“You want to ask about the explosion at North Wind Island Park yesterday evening?” Arthur spoke first. Though he was talking to Frank, he never met his eyes. He kept his head turned to one side, as though absorbed in feeding the pigeons.

Arthur was a seasoned corrupt cop. In over twenty years on the force, he had seen plenty of colleagues and superiors take dirty money and end up behind bars. He also knew that once he had yielded to temptation, even once, he could never be clean again. Caution had become a habit. In a situation like this, even if someone secretly photographed him, he could still say, “I just happened to be sitting on the same bench as a Mafia underboss while I was feeding pigeons. It's a public place. What can I do if he decides to sit down beside me?”

If he hoped to live to collect his pension in ten years, he had to play his part every second of every day, imagining cameras everywhere. All along the way he acted, finding little refuge in ignorance; all along the way he looked back, yet could scarcely grow numb. On this endless road, only in dreams could he escape the pain of being awake.

Frank's accomplishments in the performing arts clearly fell far short of Arthur's, but with a good teacher beside him, he followed his example. Rubbing his neck, he looked away with obvious awkwardness and replied, “Yes. Let's hear it, Officer Arthur.”

Arthur said, “Actually, I don't know much more than what's in the papers. Yesterday evening, just before the park closed, there was an explosion in an isolated spot near the water. Two loud blasts in quick succession. A park employee heard them and called the police. He was terrified. Thought it was a terrorist attack or something. He was nearby, and besides the explosions, he thought he heard gunfire, so from the way he described it over the phone, you'd think a world war had broken out.

“About half an hour earlier, a hit-and-run had caused traffic chaos around Highway 41, and the department had sent a lot of patrol cars and officers out to keep order. Then this happened, and the park employee made it sound so convincing that over a hundred officers turned their cars around and headed onto Highway e. We were even bracing ourselves for the Freedom Front. Nearly called in HL for support. But when we got to the park, all we found were two burned-out cars and some footprints. We searched a half-mile radius and didn't find a single body, or anyone injured, let alone any slogans or anything else left by an organization or individual.

“The department will probably keep investigating this week. Quite a few officers are contacting their informants now, hoping this explosion will turn up a major case. What else do you need to know?”

Frank gave nothing away as he continued, “Officer Arthur, in your professional opinion, what do you think might really have happened?”

Arthur scattered a handful of corn kernels and thought for a moment. “If you hadn't come to ask me about it today, I'd have suggested that the officers handling the case write in their closing report that a group of hippies getting high in the park accidentally started a fire, causing two cars to explode. One vehicle was confirmed stolen and had previously been involved in a hit-and-run. No eyewitnesses currently available, and no definite number or description of the suspects. Then file it away for the record.”

Frank smiled. “So has my curiosity changed your opinion?”

Arthur said, “You'll have to tell me something I don't know before I can reach a conclusion.”

Frank said, “Suppose one of those two cars yesterday was being used by our company's employees to deliver goods. But the other car didn't belong to the people collecting the goods, and we don't know where it came from.”

Arthur's hand stopped for about two seconds. Then he muttered, “Damn it…”

Frank merely gave a noncommittal smile and waited for his response.

This time Arthur was silent for a long while. After turning it over in his mind, he finally replied, “Based on the findings at the scene, I can give you two possible explanations. First, your employees pocketed the goods or the money and ran.

“They stole a car beforehand and deliberately used it to cause a traffic accident and create a disturbance. Then they parked it beside the delivery vehicle and set off the explosions before leaving, making it look as if some group or individual had attacked them. Having two cars at the scene would support that story. But all this deception and confusion was meant to hide a simple truth. The whole thing was staged for the Genovese family so you wouldn't hunt them down afterward.”

Frank considered this, then said, “There's something else I should tell you, Officer Arthur. It might help. We've already contacted the people collecting the goods. They said last night's deal went smoothly at first, but after it was over, a young man suddenly appeared and disrupted things. He came on foot, without a car, so he may have had accomplices.

“Going by your first explanation, I wouldn't rule out the possibility that my employees hired the young man to put on an act. Perhaps their confrontation was just for the buyers' benefit. But I think if they really wanted to stage something, they ought to have hired a bunch of heavily armed killers to charge up in an SUV and start shooting. That would have been more convincing.”

Arthur glanced at him. “This habit of telling people only a fraction of what you know isn't helpful, Frank. Anything else you want to tell me? Having me draw the wrong conclusions from limited information and then shooting them down is a waste of time.”

Frank said, “Forgive me, Officer Arthur, but suspicion and caution are what have kept me alive this long. I have no way of knowing whether you've got some sort of recording device hidden in your jacket pocket right now, in case you need it someday.”

Arthur let the subject drop because he had a guilty conscience. He had been working with the Genovese family for a long time, and he already had quite a collection of just-in-case recordings at home…

“All right, then I'll give you the second possibility. This ‘young man’ of yours and his accomplices, however many there were, killed all your employees, pocketed the proceeds from the deal, and abandoned their vehicle. Maybe they had another car, maybe they didn't. In any case, they found a way out.”

Frank asked, “Didn't you set up checkpoints?”

“Of course we did. Soon after we got the call about the explosions, we set up a checkpoint on Highway e. Every car leaving North Wind Island Park had to be checked. There weren't that many, actually. Anyone suspicious was searched on the spot, and we took down their driver's license details. But the only lawbreakers we turned up were a few drivers with unpaid tickets. We searched plenty of people, but didn't find this money you're talking about or the explosive devices we were expecting. The only contraband was a few ounces of marijuana.” Arthur paused. “Based on what you've just told me, I'd guess they must have found some clever way to avoid detection. Perhaps they hid the money somewhere in the park and planned to come back for it later.”

Frank said, “Then… could I trouble you, Officer Arthur, to try to find that money, and our employees' bodies?”

Arthur scattered the last of his corn, dusted off his hands, and stood up. “I'm only speculating. They may have taken the money out of the park last night, but I'll try to find it anyway. As for your employees, forgive my bluntness, Frank, but if their bodies were dumped in Lake Michigan, they could have drifted as far as Milwaukee by now. And that's leaving aside other ways of disposing of bodies. You know even more ways of making people disappear from this world than I do, don't you?”

Frank took an envelope from inside his jacket and set it in the middle of the bench. Its thickness left plenty to the imagination. “Actually, I'm not holding out much hope either. But we have our own rules. A family member going missing or getting killed is no small matter. It's the same with you police. You follow regulations, we follow tradition, so the search still has to be made.

“The Genovese family will handle finding out the truth and administering punishment.” With that, he left.

Arthur looked around before picking up the envelope from the bench and slipping it into his inside jacket pocket. Then he left in the other direction.