Cut to the Bone(36)

Burr jingled his pocket coins.

“A week later, a trash hauler found the goons in a ditch,” Rogan continued. “Blowtorched so bad they didn’t look human. Couple of ‘em got scalped. You know, like the Indians did.”

“Sheesh.”

Rogan chuckled. “It was pretty over the top, even for the Mob. But St. Louis didn’t want a war with Chicago. They took care of the problem themselves.”

“And Earl inherited the family business.”

“Yup. Earl was a sharpie from the moment he popped out of Verna. Chicago figured, hell, give the kid his shot. Pays their debt to the family, and no interruption in the take.”

“He did good,” Burr said.

“He did great. Turns out Earl had a genius for organization. More CEO than muscleman. He quadrupled gambling-machine profits without using a tenth the violence his old man did.”

“Sonny boy don’t like the rough stuff?” Burr said.

“Don’t get me wrong. Earl Monroe would beat the snot from Gandhi if he refused to pay the piper. But he prefers doing business with his noggin.”

“Why?” Burr said.

“Practical,” Rogan said. “With violence out of the picture, the politicians have no reason to conduct raids, roust the crews, or otherwise crack down. That increases profits.”

“Which increases payoffs to the politicians, which lowers the heat even more.”

“Which pleases Chicago no end. Earl was destined for big things in the family. Then Brendan Stone ratted him out.”

“Explaining why Earl blew him into a million pieces.”

“Sure,” Rogan said. “Even a brainiac like Earl doesn’t let a betrayal like that go unchallenged. No man can. Like I said, he’s not averse to using violence.”

“Averse,” Burr snickered. “I keep forgetting you went to college.”

“I was an English major.”

“Huh. I heard you majored in snatch.”

“Same thing.”

They reached the car.

“Earl stood up to twelve cops and a Tommy gun to whack Brendan Stone,” Rogan said, climbing in the driver’s seat and popping the passenger lock. “He ate four bullets, and he knows what awaits him at Stateville. Did it anyway.”

“Geez, Rogan,” Burr complained, sliding in. “Sounds like you admire the cockroach.”

“You know better than that. What I’m saying is, we’d have needed a blowtorch ourselves to get a confession out of him.”

“So why didn’t we bring one?”

Rogan grinned. “There’s always tomorrow.”





Monday

5:07 a.m.

“Don’t forget, Ray’s funeral starts at noon,” Emily said, having decided to deal with the Alice situation after the execution. She couldn’t afford the distraction. More important, she loved Marty. To her, that meant trusting him no matter what.

“I’m counting the minutes,” Marty said sourly.

“I know, I know,” she said, squeezing his arm. “But we’ve got to attend.” She looked at the powder room, the back third of which he’d inlaid so exquisitely she could cry. “Are you going to keep working while I run?”

Marty nodded.

“How ‘bout I soap you nice and clean when I get back?” she said.

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

Emily kissed him. It felt good. “Think harder,” she said, rinsing her coffee cup and heading out the back door.

He watched her sail down the hill, hair flying, arms grabbing air. God, he loved her spirit. Her intellect. The way her calves slid into her knees into her thighs into her . . .

He seriously considered chasing her down and hauling her back to bed. Then coming clean about the phone calls. About Alice. About everything.

Then thought about how she’d react, and picked up the tile saw.





6:17 a.m.

“Four more days till you’re a crispy critter.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Corey Trent jeered, his voice echoing in the fire-brick barrenness of Death Row. “My mama insults me better’n that.”

The correctional officer jutted his bony chin. “You don’t know how good you got it, punk, dying in that electric chair. Me, I’d rip off your tits and let you scream till Easter. Then pound a stake through your heart.”

“I didn’t kill that kid,” Trent said, already bored with this conversation. He’d heard it every day since his arrest. “Or its old lady. Didn’t kill anyone.”

“Course you did. Your rap sheet’s as long as my arm,” the CO said. “In and out of prison since you could shave. Burglary, grand theft auto, break-and-enter, arson, assault with a deadly, ‘bout thirty other things. Plus felonies never proved.”