The Chicago Way Read Online Free

he gave me a retainer. May I?”
    I pulled the envelope with cash from my coat pocket and threw it toward her. She didn’t bother to look at it. I lit my cigarette and continued.
    “So technically, I guess, you’re my client. Although I don’t see as you need a whole lot of protecting. At least for the moment.”
    I drew deep and let out some smoke. She coughed a little. I enjoyed that. Sometimes one must live for life’s smaller triumphs. Then she finished coughing and started talking again.
    “What about the rest of it, Mr. Kelly?”
    It’s the kind of question you want to have some sort of answer to, at least when someone is pointing the business end of a gun your way. I did the best I could.
    “The rest of what?”
    “Don’t play fuck-fuck with me, Mr. Kelly. What else did Gibbons tell you?”
    The possibilities for postmodern witty repartee, not to mention a close, meaningful relationship, seemed plentiful. Or she could just shoot me in the head and be done with it. Then the doorbell rang and the moment shifted.
    “Expecting someone?” Elaine said.
    “Not so you would notice.”
    “I’ll be just down the hall.”
    She grabbed her orange juice, tucked her gun neatly into her handbag, and headed toward my bedroom. The bell rang a second time.
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    I opened the door to a gold detective shield.
    “Michael Kelly?” said the voice from behind the shield.
    “Where the hell you guys been?” I said.

CHAPTER 6
    O ne detective stood at attention. The other was loose-jointed and kicked at a rock on the pavement. I was on the top step, my back to the front door. They both squinted up at me through the morning glare. So much the better. I thought about Elaine Remington, alone in the apartment, rummaging through my various belongings. So much the worse. Loose-jointed flashed his badge again. In case I had any doubts. I caught a glimpse of the gold but no name.
    “Dan Masters. This is my partner, Joe Ringles.”
    Ringles gave a bit of a salute. He looked lost without a swagger stick.
    “You been waiting for us, huh?” said Masters. “Why exactly is that, I wonder?”
    Masters was the older of the two. Gray buzz cut gave way to a shiny forehead and sharp ears set close. His eyebrows were crisscrossed with scars. The rest of his face was a bag of skin with red holes where eyes should have been and a slash that moved when he spoke. Booze and twenty years on the job will do that to you.
    “John Gibbons,” I said. “Friend of mine. Found dead last night.”
    “You want to tell me how you know that, sir?”
    That was Ringles. The younger of the two, his buzz cut was still brown and shaved high on the sides. He had no eyebrows to speak of, and the skin was tight over thin cheekbones. His chin was soft enough to make him a target. I gave him the shoulder. Ringles didn’t like it.
    “I asked you a question, sir.”
    Ringles stepped forward. He was probably in my space, if I thought about it. I didn’t. I just hit him. It doesn’t take much if you know how. Just three inches to the solar plexus. I don’t think Masters even noticed. Ringles did. He fell backward over a convenient piece of shrubbery. The landing area was just a bit muddy.
    “Watch it there,” I said.
    Ringles came up out of the mud with his piece out. He even looked stupid enough to use it. Fortunately, Masters came around.
    “Park it, Joe.”
    Ringles glared at me over the sight. I stood my ground and tried to ignore the hammer in my chest. Slowly he eased back on the trigger and pulled out the cuffs. I turned back to the older cop.
    “Am I under arrest?”
    Masters looked at a point in space somewhere between Ringles and myself. Then he shook his head. The cuffs went away.
    “I’ll drive down,” I said. “If it’s all right with you guys.”
    Masters was already heading back to his car. “Town Hall,” he said. “You got an hour.”
    I went back into the house. Ringles was left alone, wiping off the back of his pants. I