The Unknown Beloved(75)
The call was from his boss, Elmer Irey, the director of the Treasury’s intelligence division. He wasn’t happy.
“What the hell is going on there? The big guy himself is breathing down my neck on this.”
Malone knew of only one “big guy” who could make Elmer Irey sweat.
Malone had been sending weekly updates since arriving in January. It was unlike any case he’d been on, mostly because the Treasury Department didn’t have an angle, and he wasn’t digging into financial records or getting cozy with suspects to gain insider information. His reports outlined what he was doing, what he’d learned, and frankly, why it mattered that he continue spending the intelligence division’s resources—meaning Malone himself—investigating a series of murders in Cleveland. So far, he hadn’t gotten any pushback from his boss or any real indication of interest. He’d figured the request for reports was just Elmer’s desire to keep tabs on his agent. He’d also assumed he’d eventually be yanked and reassigned, but he had hoped for more time.
“I’ve only been here for three months, Boss. We were on the Lindy case for years. You know how this works.”
“You hear the news out of Germany, Mike?” Elmer always called him Mike over the telephone. Mike was about as generic as it came.
“What news, specifically?” He was sure Irey would tell him.
“Elections are being held tomorrow. The big guy says the Nazi Party will win ninety-nine percent of the vote. That’s the kind of confidence Hitler inspires. More people have died in Cleveland at the hands of this Butcher than died when tanks rolled into Austria last month. He was welcomed with parades.”
“That’s all bullshit, sir.”
“No, it’s perception, Mike. A worldwide perception that Germany is in control, and we aren’t. We can’t find our asses with two hands, and Hitler doesn’t miss. And he’s making sure everyone knows it. The Cleveland Butcher is headline news in Berlin. It’s being used as anti-American propaganda.”
“What do you want me to do, Boss?”
Irey was silent. They’d spoken in generalities, and Irey wouldn’t spell anything out over the telephone, even though he spoke from the securest of lines.
“When you know something, I’d better know it within the hour. No more of these weekly reports. I’d like to avoid sending a team in if I can help it, but the way the big guy’s talking, Ness is about to get fired, and the whole state of Ohio is being written out of the New Deal. Whatever you have to do to wrap it up, do it. And for God’s sake, keep me posted.”
18
Malone decided they didn’t need to wait until dark to visit the apartment for the second time. The medical office was closed for the weekend, and Dani had a reason to be there, should someone see them or tell Dr. Peterka. Plus, looking the place over in the light would be helpful.
The shop was busy all morning with the Easter rush. They sold every hat in stock plus three off-the-rack suits with minor alterations, a dozen blouses, and four skirts in their new spring line. Still, Malone waited for her until she closed the shop at six, giving them an hour of late afternoon sunshine with which to explore.
He’d been on the telephone throughout the day, though with whom she wasn’t certain. She thought he referred to his “boss” and a man named Cowles, as well as mentioning a few of the victims by their numbers. Three, seven, eight, and ten, specifically. If she remembered right, those victims were all women. It was most likely that he spoke with Eliot Ness, though she never heard Malone address him directly.
She didn’t actively try to listen, but she couldn’t very well help it if the telephone was in the sewing room and that she, Lenka, and Zuzana weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, making them all more prone to listen than chatter between fittings and customers. But Malone’s countenance was as dark as her mood when they left the shop together. She didn’t know if it was his work or if it was her that made it so.
Dani knew the subject of Pavel would have to be broached with Malone, but she would do it in her own good time and deeply resented Zuzana’s attempts at sabotage, understandable though they may be. She lied and told her aunts they were off to the morgue, and the two should eat supper without them. Zuzana pretended like she hadn’t heard her, and Lenka replied that “in that case, I will be eating in my room.” She hadn’t forgiven Zuzana either.
Malone insisted they circle the premises, testing the entrance and exit doors and checking the street for cars. Then they approached the rear staircase the way Emil Fronek would have done, behind the empty café, and climbed the stairs like they had every right to be there. Malone knocked on the door, surprising Dani.
“Do you think he’s still here?” Dani gasped.
“No,” Malone said. “But if he is, and he’s entitled to the space, he’ll answer. If he’s trespassing, he’ll scramble. Either way, we’ll know soon enough. But I doubt he’s here. Stand behind me please, and hold on to the rail, just in case he comes barreling out. I don’t want him knocking you down the stairs.”
Malone rapped on the door again and called out, “Hello?” letting anyone who might still be inside know they were aware of him.
No one came to the door.
Malone slipped his tools from a slim pouch in his pocket, and mere seconds later, the lock released.