Soul Circus(74)

“The voice spoke of your conversation with Kevin Willis down at Leavenworth.”

“I got nothing from Willis on the Oliver case.”

“Right. I reviewed the transcripts of your tapes.”

“And?”

“At several points Willis talks about people in protective who are hot or who are about to flip. He’s referencing potential witnesses who have nothing to do with the Oliver trial. These are cases that are still pending, Derek.”

“Make your point.”

“They have grounds for an obstruction charge.”

“You should have warned me about that.”

“I did warn you.”

“I don’t remember you sayin’ anything.”

“I went over it with you before you left town; it’s in my notes of our meeting. Now, understand, if the government wants to go after your license or prosecute you further, they’re within their rights to try.”

“The Feds had Willis set me up.”

“Maybe. That would be damned hard to prove.”

“You want me off the case?”

“If you dropped out now, I’d understand. But I need you more than ever. What I’m telling you is, you’ve got to be aware of the possible situation you have here. Let’s assume we’re talking about the FBI. They can bug your office, your house, your bedroom, even your car.”

“I know all that.”

“They can monitor your phone conversations, including your cell. At the very least you ought to be communicating with your people through pay phones.”

“Whatever,” said Strange.

“You don’t seem too concerned.”

“I’m staying on this.”

“Okay. Good. When the time comes to resolve your problem, I’ll represent you, gratis.”

“I was counting on that.”

“In the meantime,” said Ives, “you heard the testimony in there. I need something from the Stokes girl, if there is anything, right away. Something to refute Phil Wood’s testimony that Granville hit his own uncle or had him hit.”

“I’m working on it,” said Strange.

He asked Ives about what they could do for the girl and her son. Ives described the arrangements that could be made. When he was done he said, “I don’t need to tell you to watch your back.”

Strange and Ives shook hands. Quinn and Strange walked toward the Caprice.

“Hope you’re hungry,” said Strange.

“It depends.”

“The Three-Star Diner.”

“That Greek place where your father worked,” said Quinn.

“We’re meetin’ a Greek,” said Strange. “So it makes sense.”



THEY sat in a booth, its seats covered in red vinyl, along the window of the Three-Star on Kennedy Street. Quinn had a cheeseburger with mustard and fried onions only, and a side of fries. Strange ate eggs over easy, grilled half smokes, and hash browns, his usual meal.

Sitting across from them was Nick Stefanos. He had the half smokes and hash browns like Strange, but took his eggs scrambled with feta cheese. Both of them had scattered Texas Pete hot sauce liberally atop the dish.

“I remember this place,” said Stefanos. “My grandfather knew old man Georgelakos. They went to the same church, St. Sophia. And they were in the same business.”

“Your grandfather had a lunch counter?”

“Nick’s.”

“Fourteenth and S, in Shaw. I can picture the sign out front.”

“Right. He used to run up here from time to time. ‘I’ll be right back; Kirio Georgelakos needs a few tomatoes, I’m gonna run some up to him.’ Like that.”

“That’s his son,” said Strange, pointing behind the counter to Billy Georgelakos, wide of girth and broad of chest, nearly bald, working with a Bic pen wedged behind his ear. “My father worked here, too. He was the grill man in this place.”

“Small town,” said Stefanos, smiling pleasantly at Strange.

Stefanos wore a black summer sweater over a white T-shirt, simple 505 jeans, and black oilskin shoes. He kept his hair short and distressed. His face was flecked with scars, white crescents and tiny white lines on olive skin. He wasn’t handsome or ugly; his looks would have been unremarkable except for his eyes, which some would have called intense. His height and build were medium, and he kept his stomach reasonably flat for his age. Strange put him in his early forties. He looked as if he had lived a life. Strange could almost see this one as a younger, reckless man. He sensed that Stefanos had been about good times in his youth, and wondered if drugs were his thing today, and if not, what had replaced them. Maybe it was the adrenaline jolt from the job, or something else. Elaine Clay had said that he had his problems with drink.