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So I’m up, boxer shorts on and nothing else. Spock’s eating. Chloe’s still asleep. Maisie’s already headed out to the diner for her breakfast shift.
I take a walk through to the kitchen with my phone in my hand. I’ve got a call I need to return. The FBI wants to talk to me.
I knew they would sooner or later. There’s only so long I can stay here before I need to start having meetings and getting back to the day job. I’ve told Chloe I’ll have to go into Chicago today. The other four families want to talk and want to know what’s going on. I’m due to see them all at the Bistro tonight at eight.
They’ve seen the news. They know Tom Blizzard was dug up from the coffin, and taken into custody. The Feds are swarming the quarter-acre plot, exhuming one body after another. They’ve got Blizzard’s DNA on at least three of them and that’s just the beginning. He’s on all the news networks. The political killer, they’re calling him. About as imaginative a name as my home town.
I call the number that was left on my voicemail. “Special Agent Briggs,” a woman’s voice says when the line connects.
“This is Enzo Lauria. You wished to speak with me.”
“Thanks for calling me back,” she replies. “You got a few minutes.”
“All the time in the world.”
“First off, officially you’re a suspect in the murder of Umberto Felici. Anyone asks, I never spoke to you. Better to be upfront about that before we get going.”
“You not recording this call then?”
“Hell no, I’d be busted down to crossing guard if it got out I was speaking to you.”
“And why are you speaking to me?”
“Because us boys and girls at the Bureau think you did a good thing when you took down that asshole Blizzard.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. Blizzard had some good friends in the Senate and when the budget decisions get made next year, they’re still going to be around so this is between me and you.”
“It’s good to have friends.”
“Yes, it is. Umberto was no friend of the Bureau but I’m hoping your reign might be different.”
“My reign?”
“We know you’ve got the seal. We know the families are coming in for talks. We don’t give a shit about that. Cities need looking after and we don’t have the manpower to deal with all the problems. You keep the filth off the streets and so what if you take a ten percent cut? Am I right?”
“You are entitled to your opinions.”
“Damn straight, I am. Listen, what we care about is that we’ve been after Blizzard for years but we could never get anything to stick. Slippery as an eel in oil, that guy.”
“Slippery, as you say.”
“But you got him. I don’t know how you got him to confess on tape like that but you did and we’re grateful. So I wanted to say that officially you’re a suspect but no one’s going to be coming to talk to you about any of this. We’re going to make the paperwork… disappear, shall we say?”
“That’s much appreciated, Special Agent Briggs.”
“Call me Marie. Everyone does.”
“Much appreciated, Marie.”
“Thought you’d want to know that Blizzard is going to be in a Supermax for the rest of his life if he doesn’t get the chair. He keeps saying that you dumped him in the grave but no one’s listening since we found out just how many he’s killed before.”
“You wish to interview me over his allegations?”
“Already done the paperwork. You denied it. He’s got no proof. Case closed. Listen, you did us a solid and I’ll do you one in return. Keep me in the loop if you’re planning anything big and I’ll make sure we’re looking the other way when it goes down. You need a hand with anything, you give me a shout.”
“You sure you want to play things this way?”
