pair of detectives. Campanelli began to pace and every time he turned westward his eyes washed over the target of his strong hunch. He could not wait to get inside.
A few moments and a few more cars went past before the cruiser belonging to detectives Jorge Chavez and Charles Morgan arrived. Frank flicked his spent cigarette away and walked up to the driver’s side.
“Sorry, Frank,” Chavez the driver offered. “We had a call on an old case.”
“Somethin’ you need to get right away?”
“It can wait a day,” Jorge affirmed.
“I want you two to search for Antony’s car in Grant Park garage. North first. If you can get help, do it.”
Frank wasted no time after Chavez and Morgan sped off. He and Marcus hopped in their sedan and Frank took off, pressing the both of them into their seats for the short trip to the last survivor on its block, the parking structure. All the rest had been skillfully razed, their lots open sores of foundations, full of debris and partially filled by long-gone demolition crews. Quickly, Frank realized that Marcus had been right. Several concrete barriers, normally used for road construction, had been placed across the entrance and exit facing Wabash. Behind the barriers, large wooden panels had been attached to the building covering both openings entirely. Getting out of the car, Frank strode past the identically boarded up retail spaces on the ground floor to the corner and, staring westward down Adams, confirmed the same had been done to that entranceway.
Frank walked back to the Wabash side of the structure and stared at the barriers and wooden coverings for some time. Marcus stood quietly beside him, not quite sure why they were not moving on to help Chavez and Morgan search the old Grant Park structures. He found himself smiling awkwardly at the few pedestrians that walked by, giving his boss looks of curiosity. Besides their footsteps and the sound of the occasional vehicle, it was deadly quiet. A moment later, he saw that Campanelli had turned his attention to the sidewalk. He swept the soles of his loafers over the surface and looked up into his partner’s face with a sudden smile that took Williams off guard. Campanelli tapped his foot and wiped the smile from his face, replacing it with a glare of impatience.
Marcus looked to the foot and quickly found what his Captain had discovered. The sidewalk had been scraped in several rough half-circles. Following the paths, Marcus deduced that the barriers had been dragged away at the center to allow access to the wooden boards. Williams stepped closely to them and inspected the mountings, which were heavy screws.
“This board-up’s been taken down and replaced, Frank,” Marcus smiled, though he regretted that he had not seen it first. “The heads on these screws are freshly scratched.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Campanelli grunted in affirmation. “Get us some uniformed back-up and expedite that damned road crew before I use my own goddamned cruiser.”
“Yessir,” Williams acknowledged and jogged back to the car to make the radio call.
***
Two police cars arrived in less than five minutes, but it was another fifteen before the street department’s yellow pickup truck arrived. Easily as old as Tamara’s convertible, the rusted machine creaked and rattled to a stop at the curb.
Campanelli was annoyed and fired at Williams, “Didn’t you tell ‘em what we needed?”
“Yes, I did.”
Frank cussed and strode over to the truck. “Don’t you guys have somethin’ bigger? We have to move these
A few moments and a few more cars went past before the cruiser belonging to detectives Jorge Chavez and Charles Morgan arrived. Frank flicked his spent cigarette away and walked up to the driver’s side.
“Sorry, Frank,” Chavez the driver offered. “We had a call on an old case.”
“Somethin’ you need to get right away?”
“It can wait a day,” Jorge affirmed.
“I want you two to search for Antony’s car in Grant Park garage. North first. If you can get help, do it.”
Frank wasted no time after Chavez and Morgan sped off. He and Marcus hopped in their sedan and Frank took off, pressing the both of them into their seats for the short trip to the last survivor on its block, the parking structure. All the rest had been skillfully razed, their lots open sores of foundations, full of debris and partially filled by long-gone demolition crews. Quickly, Frank realized that Marcus had been right. Several concrete barriers, normally used for road construction, had been placed across the entrance and exit facing Wabash. Behind the barriers, large wooden panels had been attached to the building covering both openings entirely. Getting out of the car, Frank strode past the identically boarded up retail spaces on the ground floor to the corner and, staring westward down Adams, confirmed the same had been done to that entranceway.
Frank walked back to the Wabash side of the structure and stared at the barriers and wooden coverings for some time. Marcus stood quietly beside him, not quite sure why they were not moving on to help Chavez and Morgan search the old Grant Park structures. He found himself smiling awkwardly at the few pedestrians that walked by, giving his boss looks of curiosity. Besides their footsteps and the sound of the occasional vehicle, it was deadly quiet. A moment later, he saw that Campanelli had turned his attention to the sidewalk. He swept the soles of his loafers over the surface and looked up into his partner’s face with a sudden smile that took Williams off guard. Campanelli tapped his foot and wiped the smile from his face, replacing it with a glare of impatience.
Marcus looked to the foot and quickly found what his Captain had discovered. The sidewalk had been scraped in several rough half-circles. Following the paths, Marcus deduced that the barriers had been dragged away at the center to allow access to the wooden boards. Williams stepped closely to them and inspected the mountings, which were heavy screws.
“This board-up’s been taken down and replaced, Frank,” Marcus smiled, though he regretted that he had not seen it first. “The heads on these screws are freshly scratched.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Campanelli grunted in affirmation. “Get us some uniformed back-up and expedite that damned road crew before I use my own goddamned cruiser.”
“Yessir,” Williams acknowledged and jogged back to the car to make the radio call.
***
Two police cars arrived in less than five minutes, but it was another fifteen before the street department’s yellow pickup truck arrived. Easily as old as Tamara’s convertible, the rusted machine creaked and rattled to a stop at the curb.
Campanelli was annoyed and fired at Williams, “Didn’t you tell ‘em what we needed?”
“Yes, I did.”
Frank cussed and strode over to the truck. “Don’t you guys have somethin’ bigger? We have to move these
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