Secret Prey

FIVE

DAMASCUS ISLEY WAS A VERY SMART FAT MAN WITH A taste for two-thousand-dollar English bespoke suits that almost disguised his size. Lucas spotted him at a back table at the Bell Jar, hovering over a chicken breast salad that had been served in what looked like a kitchen sink. Lucas told the mai^tre d, Im with the fat guy, and was nodded past the velvet rope.

Lucas, Isley said. He made a helpless gesture with his hands, which meant, Im too fat to get up. Are you coming to the reunion? Gina asked me to ask.

Lucas shook his head, and took a chair across from Isley, who was sitting on the booth seat. I dont think so. Ive busted too many of them.

Mary Big Jos gonna be there, Isley said.

Fuck Mary Big Jo.

I certainly did, Isley said cheerfully. Made all the more glorious by your abject failure to do the same.

Lucas grinned: No accounting for taste, he said. Isley was six-five, a bit taller than Lucas. Hed once been a rope instead of a mountain, a basketball forward when six-five was a big man; Lucas had been hockey, and theyd chased several of the same women through high school and college.

A waitress stepped up behind Lucas, slipped a menu in front of him, and said, Cocktail, sir?

Ah no, I just want… He thought for a second, then said, Hell, give me a martini. Beefeater, up, two olives.

I could give you three olives, if you need more vegetables in your diet, the waitress said.

All right, three, Lucas said; she was pretty in a dark-Irish way.

The waitress went to get the drink, and Isley, following her with his eyes, said, The way she looked at you, something would be possible. Maybe youd have to come back a couple of times, get to know her, but itd be possible. He looked down at the vast salad, the chunks of chicken breast, avocado, egg, tomato, cheese, and lettuce, covered with a bucket of creamy herb dressing, then back up at Lucas. You know how long its been since that was possible with me? With all this fuckin… He couldnt say fat… lard?

Lucas tried to put him off: So you work out for a couple months.

Lucas… when I was playing ball, my last year, I weighed two-oh-five. So I go to this fat doctor and say, Give me a diet I can stay on, something simple, thatll get me back to two-oh-five. He says, Okay, do this: Go to lunch every day and eat one Big Mac with all the fixings. And as much popcorn as you want, all day. Nothing else. I say, Jesus Christ, Ill starve. He says, No you wont, but youll lose a lot of weight.

Isley looked at Lucas. You know how long he said it would take to get to two-oh-five? Lucas shook his head. A year and a half. A fuckin year and a half, Lucas…

Ill tell you what, Dama, Lucas said bluntly. Youre either gonna lose it, or youre gonna die. Simple as that.

Not that simple, Isley said.

Oh yeah it is, Lucas said. After all the bullshit, thats what it comes down to.

I dont even like food that much… and Id like to live awhile longer, Isley said wistfully. Id like to quit thecompany, go to London and study money… find out what it really is.

Money.

Yeah, you know. Money, he said. Not many people really know what it is, how it works. Id like to spend some time finding out.

So start hitting the McDonalds, Lucas said.

Fat chance.

The waitress arrived with the martini, and Isleys wistfulness disappeared, replaced by the steel-trap investment banker. So whats going on? Starting another business?

No. Lucas sipped the martini. When you took my company public, we ran some of the money stuff through Jim Bone over at Polaris. You seemed to know him pretty well. He was hunting with Kresge when Kresge got shot, and I need a reading on him. Bone, I mean. And Susan ODell, if you know her. And Wilson McDonald.

Isleys face went cautious: Is this official?

No, of course not. Im just trying to get a reading. Nobodyll be coming back to you.

Isley nodded. Okay. I know them all pretty well socially and business, both. Either Bone or ODell has the guts to shoot Kresge, but I dont think either one did. These people are very smart and very serious. If theyd wanted to lose Kresge badly enough, they would have done it another way.

What about Robles or McDonald?

Robles is a software genius. He does the math. But hes more of a technician than a manager. He also doesnt have the motive. With his math, he could go about anywhere. McDonald… Isley looked away from Lucas, pursed his fat lips, then turned back. There are McDonalds who are good friends of minesame family. Not Wilson, though. Thereve been rumors… Again, he paused.

What? Lucas asked.

No comebacks?

No comebacks.

Therere rumors that he occasionally beats the shit outof his wife, Isley said. I mean, she goes to the hospital.

Huh.

Alcohol, is what you hear, Isley said. Hes a binge drinker. Sober for two months, then has to take a few days off.

Smart?

Pretty smart. Not world-class, but he got through law school with no problem.

I didnt know he was a lawyer.

He never worked at it. Hes always been a salesman, and a damn good one. Knows everybody. Everybody. Access to all the old money in townhis family built a mill over on the river, hundred and some years ago, and eventually sold to Pillsbury to go into banking and real estate. Like that.

Okay, Lucas said. So heres another question. Everything Ive heard about him says McDonalds rich, he comes from an old family, and all that. Why would he kill Kresge, just cause Kresges gonna merge the bank? Hes got all the money in the world anyway.

No, not really, Isley said. He dabbed at his lips with a linen napkin, tossed the napkin aside, and made a steeple out of his fingers. After a moment of silence, he said, Hes maybe worth… seven or eight million. The older generation was a lot richer, relatively speaking, but there were a lot of kids, and a lot of taxes, and the money got cut up. After taxes, and including his after-tax salary, Id imagine his real expendable income is something in the range of a half-million. If he doesnt dip into his capital, and assuming he puts aside enough to cover inflation.

Well, Jesus, Dama, that just aboutisall the money in the world, Lucas said.

No, its not. Its a lot by any normal standard, but having ten million dollars is nothing compared to being the CEO of a major corporation. Being an American CEO is like being an old English duke or earl. He paused again, his eyes unfocusing as he looked for the right words. Say you have a spendable income of a half-million a year, andyour wife likes to fly first-class to Hawaii or Paris every so often. You can spend fifteen thousand after-tax bucks flying a couple first-class to the islands. You go out of town a half-dozen times a yearHawaii, the Caribbean, Europe you can spend a hundred and fifty grand, no trouble. And its all out of your own pocket. Plus youve got big real estate taxes, youre probably running a couple of fiftythousand-dollar cars… I mean, you can spend a halfmillion a year and feel like your collars a little too tight. But if you run a business the size of Polaris, screw first classyouve got your own Gulf-stream waiting at the airport. Youve got several thousand people kissing your ass day and night. Youve got people driving your cars, running your errands. From everything I can tell by watching it, this all must feel better than anything in the world…

So even if he had a lot of money, a guy might have reason to waste old Kresge.

Especially McDonald. Bone, ODell, and Robles are essentially hired guns. They are very good at what they do, but theyreheremostly by chance. They could go anywhere else. But everything Wilson McDonald is is tied to the Twin Cities. In New York or L.A. or even Chicago, they could give a rats ass about a Wilson McDonald.

Do you think Bone would talk to me about McDonald? Off the record?

Isley shrugged: Maybe. If the idea appealed to him. He played a little ball at Ole Miss.

Yeah?

Yeah. Good quick guard. Probably not pro quality, but he wouldve been looked at. Called him T-Bone, of course. If you want, I could give him a ring. Just to say you asked about him, tell him youre okay.

Lucas grinned. Maybe Im not.

Isley said, Ah, youre okay… if hes innocent. And Im pretty sure he is.

Anybody mourning Kresge?

Isley had been about to stuff a slice of chicken in his mouth, and stopped halfway to the target. Shook his head. Not a single person that I know. He spent his life fucking people in the name of efficiency. He stuck the chicken in his mouth, chewed, swallowed. Why would you do that? he asked. I know all kinds of people who do, but I cant figure out why.

Make money.

Hell, Lucas, Ive made a pile of money, and I dont fuck people. You made a pile, and your ex-employees think youre a hell of a guy. But why would you do things in a way that youd end up in life with a pile of money, but not a single fuckin friend?

Maybe you figure that if you get enough money, you could buy some.

Isley nodded gloomily. Yeah, probably; thats the way they think.

Lucas finished the last of the three olives, and the last of the pleasantly cool martini, and said, Listen, Dama. I got a pickup game once a week, bunch of cops, couple lawyers. You start eating those Big Macs and Id like to get you out there.

Goddamnit, Lucas…

Feel good, wouldnt it? Playing horse in the evening. Down on Twenty-eighth?

Isley tossed his fork in the salad bowl. Get out of here, Davenport.

Lucas stood up. Call Bone for me?

Yeah, yeah, soon as I get back. He looked at his Patek Philippe. Give me twenty-five minutes.

LUCAS GOT BACK TO THE OFFICE, STUCK HIS HEAD into Administration, and said, Got anything for me?

The duty guy said, Computers down.

How long?

I dont know, its not just us. Some state road guys cut a major fiber-optic. Half the goddamn citys down.

Road guys?

Shovel operators.

JAMES T. BONES SECRETARY SUSPECTED LUCAS OF MAKING sport of her. When she told him, peremptorily, on the phone, that Mr. Bone was making no new appointments, Lucas had answered, Go tell Mr. Bone right now that a deputy chief of police wants to talk to him, and if he says no, Ill have to come down and shoot him.

I beg your pardon?

I think you heard me, Lucas said. He almost added, sweetheart, but decided that might push it too far.

She went away for a moment; then another voice came on, feminine, cool: Mr. Davenport? This is Kerin Baki, Mr. Bones assistant. Can I help you?

I need to talk to Mr. Bone.

When?

As soon as possible.

Come over, and well get you in, she said.

BAKI WAS A CHILLY NORTHERN BLONDE, WITH AN oval face and pale blue fighter-pilot eyes. She met him without any softening smile. In the spring, Lucas thought, she probably had genetic dreams of turning her tanks toward Moscow…

She led him through into Bones office, said, Mr. Bone, Mr. Davenport, and left them, shutting the door behind her.

Bone was dressed in a subdued single-breasted wool suit with a crisp white shirt and an Italian necktie; but somehow the ensemble came off as a wry comment on Yankee bankertude. He had a telephone to one ear and a foot propped on the N-Z volume of theNew Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, which lay flat on his desk. He waved Lucas in, and as Lucas dropped into a bent-oak chair across the desk, said into the phone, Two? Thats as good as you can do? Last week it was one and seven… Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ill get back to you, but I think we might have to talk to Bosendorfer or Beckstein… Yeah, yeah. By four.

He hung up, made a notation on a legal pad, and said, I can give you all the time youd need this evening, butif you gotta talk now, you gotta talk fast. And this is all off the record at this point, right?

Lucas nodded. Yes. If we need an official statement, well send you a subpoena and get a formal deposition.

Bone leaned forward. So?

So do you think McDonald did it?

If one of us did it, it was McDonald. I didnt do it. Robles, no motive. ODell, too smart. Unless Im missing something. And to tell you the truth, I dont think its McDonald. Way down at the bottom, I dont think hes got the grit to pull it off.

Then whys he running the place?

Hes not. Hes only speaking for it. And thatll only last until ODell and I get the board sorted out. Then itll be one of us.

Lucas said, Huh, and then, Have you ever heard of George Arris? Does the name ring a bell?

Yes, of course. He was a famous case around here, around the bank. He was murderedthis mustve been a few months or maybe a year or so before I came here. Mustve been back in 85.

How was it famous? The name doesnt ring a bell with me…

It was over on the St. Paul side of the river. Somebody started shooting white guys who were walking in the black areasthere were like three or four of them in a few weeks, shot in the back of the head.

Ah, jeez, I remember that, Lucas said. Never solved. And Arris was one of them?

Yup.

Whatd he do here? Worked with the trust department, setting up portfolios for rich folk.

Would he have worked with McDonald?

Bone said, Probably. Id have to look up the exact dates, but they probably overlapped. They certainly both went through that department. I dont really know the details. I wasnt here yet. I just heard about the killing later.

Okay. How about Andrew Ingall?

Andy? He was a vice president, also in the trust department, but he died a few years ago in a boating accident up on Superior. You think Wilson had something to do with it?

Why would he? Lucas asked.

Bone leaned back, then spun his chair in a circle, stopped it with one foot, reached into a desk drawer where he apparently had a stereo tuner hidden. A Schumann piano piece, simple, easy, elegant, and sweet, sprang into the office, and Bone said, Schumann, and Lucas said, I knowScenes from Childhood, and Bone said, Christ, were so cultured I cant stand it, and Lucas said, A friend of mine used to play them. Why would McDonald do Andy Ingall?

Because they were both candidates to run the operation. Then Andy sailed out of Superior Harbor one day, just moving his boat up to the islands. He never got there. No storm, no emergency calls, nothing. Just phhht. Gone. The theory was that he had a leaky gas tankhe had some kind of old gas engine, an Atomic, or something like thatand gas leaked into the bilge, and he fired up the engine out on the water somewhere, and boom. He was gone before he could call for help. That was the theory, but nobody ever knew for sure. No wreckage was ever found.

So McDonald got the job.

Well, no. When Andy disappeared, everything was screwed up for a while; then we had a general shuffling around, and McDonald wound up as a senior vice president in the mortgage company.

Huh, said Lucas, and Bone said, Yeah, and asked, Cant you get this stuff from the FBI or somewhere?

Probably not. Besides, the computers down.

You too? Christ, its chaos downstairs…

Did you ever hear that McDonald might whack his wife around from time to time? Pretty seriously?

Bone nodded. I heard it. I went out with a lawyer lady for a while, old family, she knows that whole country clubbunch; and she said something to me about it. She might have some details… You could talk to her if you want.

Thatd be good…

Bone scratched a name and phone number on a piece of notepaper and pushed it across the desk. Sandra Ollsen, twols. Thats her office phone over at Kelly, Batten.

What kind of law?

Estate planning, wills, trusts. He looked at his watch and said, Listen, Ive got to go to a meeting, but I can talk to a guy whos gonna be there, and find out if there was anything between Wilson and Arris.

Lucas said, Thanks, stood up, and as they shook hands, said, I understand you used to play a little ball.

Yeah, a little, Bone said.

How well do you know Dama Isley?

Reasonably wellI heard he played for the Gophers, back when. Hard to believe.

Yeah. Listen, next time you see him, take a couple of minutes and talk a little ball, old-time stuff, like college days.

Bone shrugged. Sure. Why?

Private project, Lucas said. You still play?

Bone, grinning, said, I still shoot around a little bit on Saturdays. Always a couple of kids trying to take advantage of me.

Lucas said, A banker? Playing for money?

Good grief, no, Bone said. Not for money. Thatd be illegal.

ON THE WAY OUT, LUCAS PAUSED IN THE OPEN DOOR of Bones office, saw Kerin Baki talking to the secretary, and said, loud enough for her to overhear, Im probably going to want to talk about McDonald again.

Bone, already settling back into his desk, distracted, missed the double-directed comment, nodded, said, Okay, and Lucas pulled the door shut. He smiled at Baki on the way out and said, Thank you.

By the time the elevators reached the bottom floor, hethought, the word on McDonald would be out. If Baki was as efficient as she looked, she could never pass on the chance to screw one of her bosss competitors.

LIKE BONE, SANDRA OLLSEN WAS REALLY TOO BUSY TO talk to Lucas; but he mentioned Bones name and was admitted to the mahogany offices of Kelly, Batten, Orstein amp; Shirinjivi. Ollsen was a tall, coordinated woman who looked as though she might once have played some ball herself.

Hows Jim? she asked casually as Lucas settled into the chair across her desk.

Looks fine; something of a power struggle going on over there, Lucas said.

Yes. With Susan ODell. I hope she kicks his butt.

Really? Lucas asked.

Really, she said. Lucas, bemused, watched her for a moment, waiting, and then she said, He sort of dumped me.

Ah. I know the feeling, Lucas said.

She looked him over. I dont think so, she said after a minute.

Youd be wrong, Lucas said. Anyway… he seems to think of you as a friend.

Right. She rolled her eyes. Actually, I dont think he was actually looking for friendship when he started squiring me around. He was looking… She grinned at him, not a bad smile at all. Why am I telling you this?

Because of my open face and genuine curiosity?

Cause youre a trained interrogator, thats why. When I was in college, we called you pigs.

When I was in college, Icalled us pigs, Lucas said. So what was he looking for when he started taking you around?

Sex, she said, ingenuously. Any place, any time… Some of the girls around the bank call him the Boner, if you know what I mean.

All right, Lucas said. Listen, the reason I came by…

Bet nobody would ever call you that, Ollsen said. The Boner.

Only cause I carry a big leather sap in my pocket, Lucas said. Id beat the tar out of them.

Oh, its a sap. And I just thought you were happy to see me.

Lucas held up his hands: All right, you win the war of wits. And they both laughed. But listen, the real reason I came around: You know about the Kresge killing, of course. Were investigating it, and Im wondering how well you know Wilson McDonald?

A sudden wariness appeared in her eyes, and she put a hand to her throat. You think Wilson did it?

No, we dont think anything, just yet. But he was one of the four people up there when Kresge…

Bit the bullet?

Exactly the words I was looking for, Lucas said. Anyway: How well do you know McDonald?

My parents knew the family quite well…

Does Wilson McDonald beat his wife?

Ah, Jesus, she said, softly. I wondered what Jim told you. What are you going to do, blackmail him with it? Wilson?

Domestic violence is not my department, Lucas said. Im just trying to get a reading on him, what kind of a guy he is.

Again, she hesitated, and Lucas added, This is all informal. There wont be any record of what you say.

But you could subpoena me.

If it got to that point, youd be morally obliged to tell us anyway, Lucas said.

She thought about that for a moment, then said, I was at a pool party last summerRush and Louise Freeman, he runs Freeman-Hoag.

The advertising agency.

Yes. Wilson got drunk. He was getting loud and hewent into the pool with his clothes onAudrey said he fell, but I saw it, and he looked like he was jumping in. Anyway, we got him out, and Audrey walked him around the house out toward their car, and they started arguing. And Louise went over to RushI was talking to Rush and she said something like, Rush, you better go around, theyre starting to argue. Something about the way she said it. So Rush went around the house, and I followed, and we both came around the corner just in time to see Wilson hit her right in the head. He just swatted her and knocked her down. Rush ran over and they started arguing, and I thought Wilson was going to fight him. But Audrey got up and said she was all right, and I got between the two guys. And they went off.

Nobody called the police? Lucas asked.

No.

I thought that was the correct thing to do, Lucas said. I mean with the lawer-doctor-advertising set. No violence.

She nodded. Ill tell you what, buster. If any guy ever hit me like that, his ass would be in jail ten minutes later. But… sometimes things are more complicated. Audrey didnt want it. She said he was drunk and didnt mean anything.

So that was the end of it.

Yes. Then, anyway. I was talking to Louise afterwards, and she said that hed beaten her up before. A couple of times a year.

And shed know?

Yes… Shes a little younger. Louise is. Shes Rushs second wife, used to be his secretary. She knows Audreys younger sister pretty well, I dont know how. The sister told Louise that Wilson beats up Audrey a couple of times a year. Sometimes pretty badly.

Do you think Wilson McDonald could have killed Kresge?

Yes, she said. Not just because I saw him hit Audrey. I was always a little afraid of him. I knew him whenI was littlehe was five or six years ahead of me at Cresthaven, and my brother knew him. Hes big and fat and mean; hes got those little mean eyes. Hes a goddamned animal.

Lucas nodded: Okay.

Even if he did it, you wont get him. Hes pretty smart, but most of all, hes a McDonald, she said. The Mc-Donalds… theyve got this family thing. They dont care what a family member does, as long as he doesnt get caught at it. She stopped: No, thats not quite right: they dont care what he does, as long as hes not convicted of it. In their eyes, not being convicted is the same as not doing it. That comes from way back. The first McDonalds were crooks, they stole from the farmers with their mill. The second or third generation were still crooks, and they made millions during the Depression with real estate scams that they ran through Polaris. And theyre still crooks. And theyve got very good legal advice.

But dont quote you.

Subpoena me first, she said. Then you can quote me.

Do you think Louise Freeman would talk to me?

Probably. Shes the kind whod have all the dirt, if I do say so myself.