Chasing a Blond Moon(58)

“She wants me back downstate tomorrow. She’s going to introduce a bill, hold a quick press conference, and get back on the campaign trail.”

Service’s mind was elsewhere.

“This bill,” Nantz said, “will provide a mandatory ten-year sentence in any case where a police officer is injured.”

“There are plenty of laws on the books now,” he said.

“She feels strongly about this.”

“In any case—misdemeanor or felony?”

“That’s what she says.”

“As it stands now most people plead out on misdemeanors, because the time and money aren’t all that much. But you slap ten years on stuff and they are gonna fight like hell in court, and that’s a disaster for us.” Most conservation officers spent little time in court, in large part because they made good cases, which defendants and their lawyers couldn’t fight effectively. He had spent less time in court than other officers, but if a law like this went on the books, all officers would be spending a lot more time in court than in the woods. With staffing already low, that would put even fewer people out where they should be.

“Lousy idea,” he added. He explained the unintended effects that might accrue.

Nantz listened attentively and when he had finished talking, she asked, “Do you mind if I share this with Lori?”

“Your choice,” he said, quickly adding, “but let it be your response, not mine.”

“Why? Lori respects you.”

“I don’t like politicians leaning on me.”

“You might consider it a sign of respect; and in any event, I brought this up, not her.”

“She’s playing you.”

“You’re underestimating me, Service.” And her face made it clear that she didn’t like it.

“A politician trying to get elected uses everybody and everything they can to get what they want.”

“Like a detective?” she shot at him.

“I guess,” he said. “The boy needs to get back to school tomorrow. Can you drop us at Simon’s? I’ll drive him from there.”

“Simon’s?”

“I left the Yukon there when Pyykkonen and I went down to Wisconsin.”

“I can just fly him up to Houghton.”

“No, I can drive him.”

“You know what he’d really like? To fish with us.”

“We don’t have time,” he said. “Neither of us.”

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, and I can make time,” she said with a tone of voice that told him he was going to be fishing tonight. “I’ll fly you guys to Crystal in the morning and then head for TC. Let’s run up to Slippery Creek. Fresh trout on the grill sounds good,” she said. “All we need is bacon, a little brown sugar, some salt, pepper, and fresh lemons. I’ll run Walter into town to get him a license and then we can get this show on the road.”

Service knew better than to argue. Once she got a plan fixed in her mind, that was the end of discussion.

She bounded up the stairs, yelling Walter’s name.

He called Pyykkonen at home and she took a long time answering.

“You alone?” he asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said, “but your friend Shark just left. He made breakfast for us.”

Shark? Breakfast? In all the time he’d known Wetelainen, he’d never known him to go on dates. He might pick up a woman at a bar and bring her home, but no dates. He was too cheap and focused on other things to tolerate the time demands of romance.

“He’s a good guy,” she said.

Shark Wetelainen, Chief Macofome, Warden Wayno Ficorelli, he thought. Pyykkonen was a woman who got around. “What’s going on with Pung’s lawyer?”

“Near as we can tell, he doesn’t have one. He has a firm in Southfield and I never get the same lawyer twice.”

This information took Service aback. “What about finances?”

“Told you earlier . . . the house, stocks, but no domestic bank accounts, savings or checking, and no credit cards. He got paid once a month and took it to a local bank to be cashed. We were able to determine that. This guy was the original greenback man.”

“How much did he make at Tech?”

“Right at ninety thou.”

“You find out who he rented his house from?”

“A woman from Painesdale named Maggie Soper. He paid cash, one grand a month.”

Painesdale was six miles south of Houghton, along the iron range of old mining villages. “One thou for the camp, another K for the house—that’s thirty percent of his monthly income.”

“Twenty-seven percent,” she said. “But he stopped paying rent in August and bought the house for one fifty K, all cash.”