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.
“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.
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