The Zoning Department was housed in a marble mausoleum referred to as the Court House. It actually served as the home to most city offices. The City Hall, built in the early ‘50s, was a shortsighted project built too small even before construction was finished. The functioning Court House had moved to a new building in the late ‘60s while the old building filled with the overflow from City Hall.
Green marble went up the wall four feet high and seemed to make the long hall nearly come together at the far end. Cole loved old buildings and the coolness that the marble floor and walls seemed to give off. The double doors were frosted glass and said “Zoning Department, Myron G. Hearst, Commissioner” in gold leaf lettering. A small piece of paper was taped to the left door reading “Please Use Other Side” in block letters with a blue felt tip pen. The door whooshed as it opened into a large office filled with old-fashioned gray metal desks, all of which were piled high with stacks of papers. A young woman with a distinct lack of chin and large dangling earrings sat behind a sign on the counter that read “Judy Oscar, Receptionist.”
“Hi Judy.” Cole smiled. “Cool earrings! Did you make them?” Cole could see upon a closer look that they had been somebody’s idea of a craft project. They looked like they were made out of Play-Doh and macaroni, then splashed with nail polish.
“No, my niece did. Like ‘em?”
“Love ’em!” Cole lied.
“What can I do for you today?”
Cole held up his press credentials. “I would like to speak with Mr. Hearst if I may.”
“No can do. Mr. Hearst is out on medical leave.” Then in a whisper Judy said, “Brain tumor, probably won’t make it. It’s really sad. He was so nice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Elias is the Acting Commissioner. He’s in.”
“He’ll do.” Cole matched Judy’s whisper. “What’s he like?”
Judy wrinkled her nose like something smelled bad. “Let’s just say I like Mr. Hearst a lot more.”
“Got it. Young or old?”
“‘Bout 35, I guess. Changing everything, nobody likes him. Likes to be the boss.” Judy sighed.
“I’ll let him. Wanna tell him I’m here?” Cole smiled.
Judy picked up the phone and punched in three numbers. The conversation was mostly one sided. Judy made faces and winked at Cole during the pauses. She hung up the phone and pointed at the far corner of the room.
“Just follow your nose.” Judy smiled.
“Why, does he stink?” Cole grinned and went through the swinging half door at the end of the counter. Judy was still laughing as Cole made his way to the back of the office.
A tall man with thinning hair and the scars of adolescent acne stood in the door of the office. He wore a white shirt with a thin black tie, loose at the neck. He watched Cole as he made his way through the maze of desks.
“Mr. Sage,” the thin man said, smiling. “Sven Elias. How can I help?”
“Not sure you can, I’m just on a fact-finding mission. I sure appreciate your taking time to see me.”
“My pleasure, please come in.” Elias gave a wide genuine smile showing the faint shadows of the new-style clear braces.
“I was sorry to hear about Mr. Hearst. Big shoes to fill,” Cole bluffed. “But I hear you run a tight ship. Good for you. Can’t be easy.”
Elias frowned and cleared his throat. “I’m doing my best. A lot of resistance to somebody new taking over, you know how it is. Myron Hearst was loved by everybody. Did you know he had been Commissioner for 33 years? Lot of pain people don’t know how to deal with, so the new guy is the easiest target. I understand how it works, but that doesn’t make the transition any smoother. You know what they say, ‘It’s lonely at the top!’”
“You look like you’re up to it.” Cole liked this man.
“Thanks, so what brings you in?”
“Well, it is this Malcor thing,” Cole began slowly. “What’s the straight dope on this zoning change? There are so many stories going around I thought I would come to the one who really knows what’s going on.” Cole waited; Elias showed signs of needing somebody to talk to.
“Oh, boy.” Elias took a deep breath, stood up, and crossed the room to close the door.”You’re from Chicago, Mr. Sage?”
“Please, call me Cole. Yes, and I’m a Cubbies fan, no jokes please.”
“No jokes. Look, I’m a small town guy. Went to the community college and a small Methodist College in Indiana. Big cities are like foreign countries to me. Can I ask you something?”
Cole nodded.
“Are there still mobsters in the big eastern cities?” Elias was dead serious.
“Well, yeah, I guess. Why do you ask?” Cole sensed real uneasiness and it wasn’t from Elias reading the papers.
“I’ve heard that the Malcor people are connected with mob guys. Do you know anything about that?”
“It was said that they fix union problems. Organized crime has a long history of union involvement. The mob was the money and muscle behind them. Why?” Cole wondered where this was going.
“This is off the record. That’s what it’s called, right? When you can’t print what I say?” Elias said earnestly.
“Yes, that’s what it’s called.” Cole smiled.
“I was approached by a local real estate salesman.” Elias paused, staring at Cole for several seconds, while trying to decide whether to go on. “He tried to bribe me. He said he wanted the zoning changed and that his friends at Malcor could be very generous.” Elias’s face flushed a bit.
“Allen Christopher?”
“Do you think he’s connected to the mob?”
Cole looked at the young man in the out-of-date tie and realized this was not the story he had come looking for. Christopher was more than the sum of his shady parts. This wasn’t stealing sales or—bad as it was—hustling old people. This was felony criminal intent. There was something more than the bribe, though. Elias was not just worried, he was scared.
“Sven, I don’t think you need to worry about the mob. I don’t see Christopher as a mob type, do you?” Cole tried to sound reassuring.
Sven Elias needed a friend, and Cole’s big-city confidence and matter-of-fact way of dismissing Christopher made Cole the friend Elias had been praying for. Elias was honest and inexperienced—a combination Cole was smart enough to know was dangerous.
“You’re right, that’s right.” In that moment, Elias decided to let Cole have it all. “Why is he trying to bribe me then? It is illegal to even suggest payment to a city official. I feel guilty just having been offered the diamonds.”
“Diamonds, what diamonds?” Cole was caught completely off guard.
“I didn’t mention that? Let me start over.” Elias suddenly stood. “He brought out a package of diamonds from his briefcase,” he recalled excitedly, “and you never saw such sparkle.” Elias took a small waxy paper envelope from his top desk drawer. “He said he would give me this diamond if I would go to the City Council meeting and propose the zoning change. He said when the zoning was recorded as commercial/industrial. It was all mine! I nearly peed my pants. Who else but a gangster gets little envelopes of loose diamonds? You should have seen them! I bet there was maybe 50 in the little wax paper thing they were in. Any one of them was bigger than my wife’s engagement ring, and that cost me almost $3,000. And you know what?” Elias lowered his voice, trying to stress the importance of his next statement. “I saw, gosh, I don’t know, maybe 10 more of those little packets in his briefcase. That’s a lot of money, Mr. Sage.”
Cole wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He just sat quietly and watched Elias thinking as he squeezed the top of his well-worn leather chair. There was a lot more to Allen Christopher than he had thought. Where did he get a bunch of diamonds? Why the bribe? Anybody in real estate, industry, even with rental properties knows a zoning change is easy to get done.
“Sven, who have you told about this?”
“My wife Karen and now you. The
re aren’t too many people around here I feel I could confide in. We only moved here three months ago. And I’m not exactly Mr. Popular.”
“Let me ask you something. Bribe or not, what was going to be done about the airport district zoning?”
“Nothing. Legally, Malcor or anybody else could do just about whatever they wanted out there, provided it doesn’t violate any state environment or safety laws. There actually isn’t any zoning designation. So many different kinds of usage have all been grandfathered in that unless the whole area was scraped clean, there’s no way to get it straightened out.”
“Who knows about the status of the zoning?” Cole asked.
“It’s no secret. Public records are open to anyone.”
“I know, but is it public knowledge? What I mean is, does everybody know it’s a mess?”
“Probably not. It’s not a very desirable area as I see it. Sales out there are usually small—old houses or duplexes. I checked with records, and there have been no new businesses started or old ones sold in over five years.” Elias had done his homework.
“So, there is a good chance the Malcor people wouldn’t know it from a casual visit. They would entrust their real estate representative and lawyers to investigate usage, permits, and stuff like that, right?”
“Probably.” Elias frowned, not quite following Cole’s line of thought.
“Christopher stands to make a bundle if he can put together a major industrial complex. A bribe to make it look like he can get things done in town would be a good investment, for him, right? So the zoning is a moot point. It wouldn’t affect the homeowners or small businesses that are already there. The Malcor people see Christopher as the guy who can get things done. If he can bribe you, necessary or not, on paper he comes through looking like he has people on the “inside”, implying he can handle anything that comes up, right? I think the zoning is just a way to make Christopher appear to be a big shot. I bet if you check the records, a guy like Christopher has made lots of sales out in the airport district. He knows the zoning situation going in. Makes a big deal of it and figures he can seal the deal with industrial zoning for the project. You with me?” Cole realized he had been thinking out loud.
“I think so.” Elias knew he was out of his depth.
“I have an idea. Don’t mention the bribe thing to anybody for a while. Let me do some sniffing around. I think this might just be a piece in a puzzle. Let’s see if we can figure out the whole picture before we do anything. What do you think?” Cole knew this was a hot potato that Elias would love to toss to somebody else.
“You mean the diamond.”
“Yeah, that just doesn’t smell right. Where does a guy like Christopher get a bunch of diamonds? From what I gather, he’s successful, in a lowbrow kind of way, but at the price of popularity. The bribery thing can wait for a bit. Just sit tight and let’s see what else we can find out. Here’s a number where I can be reached. If he shows up again, let me know. Just stall him, tell him whatever you want but don’t agree or disagree, get it?” Cole stood and handed Elias a piece of paper he had taken off a desk pad and scribbled his number on.
“I tell you, Cole, I am just not used to this kind of thing. I really didn’t mean to dump all this on you. I sure appreciate your help, I don’t have anyone I can really talk to.”
“I think dealing with Mr. Christopher will suit both our purposes. If we do this right, it will bolster your credibility with the doubters around here.” Cole jerked his thumb over his shoulder, signifying the office behind him. “See ya around.”
“Thanks.”
“And Sven, don’t worry. I’ve helped trap rats a lot bigger than Christopher.” Cole made his way out of the outer office and through the swinging door.
“You see what I meant?” Judy waited for the conspiratorial reinforcement from Cole.
“No, actually I think you got the guy all wrong. Don’t let that nerdy look fool you. You’ve got a bit of a tiger back there. He certainly showed me what’s what. Lot more to your Mr. Elias than meets the eye. If I were you, I’d let him get to know you. Could pay off big time for a talented girl like you.” Cole knew a butt kisser when he saw one and with this new information, Judy was all ready to pucker up for her new boss.
“You think so?” Judy said, somewhat amazed.
“Hey, in Chicago, I have to deal with hard cases like Elias all the time.” Cole was afraid he was laying it on a bit thick, but Sven needed all the help he could get.
“Thanks, I had no idea.”
“No reason you would, my dear, no reason you would.” Cole winked and walked away.
Out on the sidewalk, Cole flipped open his cell phone and hit “7” for Precinct 51. “Lieutenant Harris, please.” Cole never called his friend’s cell phone.
After what seemed like a hundred rings, a familiar voice said, “Harris.”
“Tom, it’s Cole.”
“Hey, where you been? I thought we were playing poker Friday night?”
“You won’t believe it, I’m back in my ol’ home town.” Cole tried to sound lighthearted.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Harris knew his friend far too well to know this wasn’t a case of homesickness.
“It’s Ellie. She—”
“Ellie? You kidding me? What’s the matter? Is she okay?”
“No Tom, she isn’t,” Cole felt a catch in his voice. “I need a couple of favors.”
“Out of my jurisdiction,” Harris said, trying to relieve the tension.
“I need to find somebody. The name is Erin Christopher. She’s believed to still be in the state but that’s about it.”
“Got a middle name?”
“Uh, no. I’ll have to get it.”
“You all right?”
“Just a little overwhelmed. Look, Ellie is very sick. Erin is her daughter, and they haven’t spoken in a couple years. Ellie needs her.”
“She called you? It’s been a long time, Cole. I am a little surprised by this.”
“Join the club. The other thing is a little weird. I’ll fill you in later. I need the names of a couple of small-time crooks around here. Think I’m onto something that involves her husband.”
“Her husband? God, Cole, what’s he up to?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but how about bribery of a city official for starters? Here’s the weird part, he offered the guy diamonds.”
“Diamonds?”
“Yeah, evidently he’s got a sackful. This guy is a real bastard. What he isn’t is big time. He’s a cheap sleazeball, in hock up to his eyeballs. I can’t figure out this whole diamond thing. I figure it’s somebody else’s deal and he’s riding along. Just a hunch. That’s where the locals might help. I don’t think they’re hot, couldn’t be. Too risky, he wouldn’t be flashing them around.”
“Brother, what you don’t get into. I’ll try the girl first. How old is she?”
“About twenty-three. Ellie thinks she may have gone into nursing.”
“Did you ask her dad?”
“Less than helpful.”
“That old Sage charm?” Harris laughed.
“Something like that,” Cole answered softly. “Tom, this is important to me.”
“I know. I’ll do the best I can.”
“Thanks, be in touch.”
The line went dead and Cole stuck the phone in his pocket. He had always been ready for the chase, Sherlock Sage, “the games afoot” and all that. His reputation was built around his ability to ferret out information. To him it was like a game. Watching the pieces move around the board. He got paid to find the story, dig the dirt, and expose the bad guys. This time it was different. This time it was personal, and that devil-may-care approach to success seemed shallow. As he stood on the corner waiting for the light to change, he was jerked from his thoughts as a silver Mercedes came slowly around the corner. Allen Christopher was driving it.
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