Right at three, Robinson’s burgundy Escalade left city hall and drove up to Thompson Avenue. I tucked a few cars behind it and followed it to Leo’s neighborhood.
Robinson had gotten out in front of the new excavation by the time I drove by. I parked a few cars up.
Robinson handed a man wearing a hard hat a white business-sized envelope. The man shook his head, angry. Robinson shrugged and began walking around the hole, taking his time to look down at the forms that had been set up for the foundation walls.
I called Wendell again. The same secretary answered. I said we probably got cut off a half hour before. She said we hadn’t. I asked if she’d asked Wendell to call me. She hung up on me again.
I called back. “Tell him to make sure the person has the goods.”
She hung up.
Robinson got back in his Escalade and drove away. It was rush hour by now, and Thompson Avenue was thick with traffic. I followed him east into Chicago. He went food shopping and headed home to a bungalow three blocks from Leo’s. I watched his house until ten thirty, when the lights went out. No one had tailed him.
I called Jarobi. “Anything?”
“Wendell’s beside himself. Nothing.”
“You told him about Robinson seeing a shadow?”
“Yes, though that can’t have anything to do with Mrs. Phelps. I also told him about the people in California. He got your message, by the way. He knows to be careful.”
I drove to Leo’s house. Only one lamp was on, and that was in the front room. I hoped that meant Ma and Endora were staying away.
Down the block, the excavation looked as it had, and maybe as it always would. The envelope Robinson had handed the contractor might delay things for forever. I thought about calling Jenny, but whatever she knew about that house didn’t matter much to Amanda’s kidnapping.
I pulled my peacoat tighter and pushed away the thought that Amanda was lying somewhere, cold like Wozanga.
Forty-three
I was down the block from Robinson’s bungalow by five the next morning. His lights went on at six, and he left for city hall at seven. The streets were mostly empty, and I tailed him from far back. No one else did.
I turned around and went back to the turret. I called Jarobi before I went inside. “I don’t like this one damned bit. The kidnapper should have called by now.”
“I want to think he’s just being careful.”
“No one’s tailing Robinson, or they backed off, if they saw me.”
“Mr. Phelps will concentrate on the one who calls.”
“Give me something to do.”
“Back away. Mr. Phelps wants you clear away from all this. For now, we wait for a call from our man.”
“Or our woman?”
“California’s a long shot, Elstrom. Don’t get your hopes up.” He promised me he’d call with news and hung up.
I called the Bohemian. “What do you hear about my friend Mr. Smith?”
“He’s not so agitated. He quit drawing pictures as soon as you left. Now he’s eating and leafing through magazines.”
“Still in no shape to leave?”
“Not even close, they tell me.”
I called Endora next. “Leo’s improving,” I said.
“Then we’re coming home.”
“There’ve been two more murders, plus a corpse found bobbing in the Willahock. Amanda was helping me, trying to puzzle through what Leo might have gotten caught up in. She’s been kidnapped.”
“My God, Dek!”
“I’ve got to go away later,” I said. “I can’t worry about you returning to Rivertown while I’m gone.”
“Leo’s safe; you’re sure?”
“Hidden away from the world.”
“Call me soon?”
“As soon as I know something,” I said, which didn’t sound like anytime soon at all.
The burgundy Escalade passed beneath my windows an hour later. I grabbed my coats and ran to the Jeep.
Robinson drove to the same Denny’s Jarobi and I had gone to, just the day before. He and another man went in. They sat at a booth by the window, as Jarobi and I had. I watched them eat what looked like omelets. When they came out, I followed them back to city hall. Cars and trucks got between us, but again I spotted no one following Robinson.
My landline rang as soon as I got back inside.
“Did you get hungry, watching us?” Robinson asked. He sounded calmer.
“How was breakfast?”
“Excellent, like every morning. I spotted you following me home last night as well. I appreciate the thought, but if I noticed you, chances are my secret friend did, too. He’s probably backed off for a while.”
“Maybe you should ask the police for help.”
“Rivertown police? You’re kidding, right?”
“I’ve got to go out of town for a little while. I think you’ll be all right.” I made sure he had my cell phone number and told him to call me if his tail reappeared.
Jarobi called as I was walking from the indoor garage.
“Anything?” I asked.
I lost his words in the chatter of a group of people walking behind me, happy folks on their way to happy times.
“Tell me, Jarobi: anything?”
“I said-” His words vaporized as the nattering group passed by.
“Any word?”
“What the hell are you doing at the airport, Elstrom?” he shouted.
“Chasing the only idea I’ve got,” I said, riding the escalator up to the ticketing area.
“There’s a man less than fifty feet behind you. See him waving?”
I turned. Down at the base of the elevator, a man waved.
“You’re wasting manpower tailing me.”
“It’s the only idea I’ve got,” he said, mimicking my words. “He wants to stick a gun in your ribs before you can buy a ticket. What shall I tell him?”
“Tell him security people will frown at his gun, but if he’s got a cop ID, he can come along.”
“Those divorcing people?”
“I can’t just sit.”
“Your L.A. lovebirds won’t tell you anything. They’ve got the money to hire professionals.”
“I’ll agitate. I’ll fuss, I’ll fidget, I’ll look like I know more than I do. Tell me what else I can do. Tell me why the kidnapper hasn’t called. Tell me how Amanda’s feeling, right now.”
“Wait here, be bait. Maybe our kidnapper thinks you still have the picture.”
“He knows better if he’s already contacted Wendell. You can put a man on my turret, though, to see if anyone comes. Or you can pick my lock like the last time and wait inside.”
“As I remember, it’s too cold inside your place.”
“I’m hoping I’ll heat things up in L.A.”
Forty-four
Right after I landed, I used a nicely anonymous prepaid cell phone to call each of the two divorce lawyers named in the National Enquirer. I gave each receptionist the same message: “This evening only, I’m in town to see if you’re interested in a daisy.”
Each receptionist asked me to hold. Neither lawyer surprised me by then picking up the phone himself. Each agreed to meet immediately, accompanied by his principal.
Neither had pretended even a moment’s confusion, and I took that behavior as ambiguous news. Both knew the painting was about to become available; likely each had already been in contact with someone looking to sell a flower. It meant, too, that neither had sent one of his own to kidnap Amanda. Whoever had been hired to grab her was local to Chicago.
I called Jarobi to update him with the latest news. He didn’t answer. I let myself dare to hope that perhaps the kidnapper was calling at that very moment, and that was why he couldn’t answer his phone.
I also let myself dare to hope that the kidnapper knew Wendell Phelps had the resources to unleash every hound in hell if even one of the hairs on his daughter’s head was harmed.