He felt exposed, like he’d suddenly found himself in a shoot-out without his gun or in a room full of strangers without an exit door. His instincts were shrieking at him to get out, but he’d learned long ago that running drew attention and suspicion. Holding his ground when he’d wanted to bolt had saved his life a dozen times. But he was dazed and disoriented, and for the first time in fifteen years, he thought maybe he was out of his depth. He would have to tell Eliot he needed a different place to stay, or simply tell him he wasn’t up to the job.
He waited until he heard their voices in the shop—Lenka and Zuzana were arguing and Dani was quiet, but he heard her quick, light tread come down the stairs and move hastily past his door. Another voice, this one singing in a language he didn’t speak, came through the back door and remained in the laundry room long enough for him to deduce this was the help.
With all the women accounted for, he went into the sewing room to use the telephone Dani had pointed out the day before. He rang Eliot Ness’s office and was put through immediately.
“Malone. Are you settled?”
“Yeah, though I’m wondering how you came across this rental.”
“Why? What’s the problem? No good?”
“No, the room’s fine. I just . . . know the landlady.”
“You know her?” Eliot’s voice echoed his surprise.
“Yeah. And she knows me. From way back. Beat cop days.”
Ness was silent, but Malone could hear him thinking.
“And you think that’s a problem?” Eliot asked. “I can’t think why it would be.”
Malone didn’t think he could explain. He kept it simple. “I’m just curious as to how it came about. I don’t like surprises. And I don’t trust coincidences.”
“When I heard you might be available, I had my girl look for a place. She saw an ad in the Plain Dealer and jumped on it.”
“Because it’s close to the Run,” Malone supplied.
“Yeah. And right across from St. Alexis Hospital.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’ll fill you in.” Eliot didn’t want to tell him over the phone. Malone could hear it in his tone. “I have some time Friday. Tell you what. I’ll come by and grab you, say one o’clock. Watch for me, will ya? I don’t want to knock on any doors.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Because people recognize me. It’s a damn pain, but if we want to be quiet about this, we’re going to have to talk in the car, or you could come to my place after hours.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
Malone walked out of the sewing room, preoccupied, and almost ran into a woman with cheeks as red as her hair and a frame that was round from every angle.
She screeched when she saw him but immediately stuck out her chubby arm to shake his hand.
“I’m Margaret,” she said, all smiles, her accent thicker than Lenka’s and Zuzana’s combined. “You must be Mr. Malone. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. Good food. Clean clothes, clean room. Anything you need, you ask Margaret.” She nodded like it was agreed and bustled on without any comment from him, but he caught her peeking back at him when he slipped into his room. There would be no privacy in this house.
It was only ten o’clock, but he was antsy and troubled, and he didn’t want to sit in his room, though the files he’d brought with him hadn’t been thoroughly scoured. He would do that after Ness filled him in with whatever couldn’t be said on the phone.
He decided he would walk for a bit, but not before locking the files in his car. The last thing he needed was for Margaret to see the photos of severed limbs and run to the Kos women. He would have to set some boundaries on her help; he didn’t want her with unlimited access to his room. But he didn’t want to deal with it now. He needed air, and he needed activity.
At the sandwich shop that butted up against the doctor’s office on the corner of Broadway and Pershing, he ordered enough sandwiches to feed a small army. He didn’t know what the women liked but figured it wouldn’t matter all that much. If they were like the rest of the city—the rest of the whole country—what they didn’t eat for lunch they’d save for tomorrow. Dani had delivered his breakfast, so he felt compelled to deliver her lunch. He always kept the scales balanced. It was something he was religious about.
He left the sandwiches on the counter in the shop and managed to get back out the front door without being subjected to conversation. Dani darted from a back room as he ducked out the jangling front door, and he just waved and called, “I brought lunch for later,” before striding down the walk and continuing on his way.