Free The St. Paul Conspiracy by Roger Stelljes Page B

his place.
    “True enough. So, what’s up with your case?”
    This was tough for Mac. He’d love to tell Pat about the senator and what they had learned about Claire Daniels. About what the autopsy report might say in the morning. But the chief had been clear; he couldn’t tell anybody anything about the case. Not the media, not fellow cops, not even his dog. Mac, however, couldn’t shut out Pat completely. That wasn’t the way it worked either. Quietly, he gave him pretty much everything but the senator.
    “So, Pat, quid pro quo?”
    Pat took a long sip of his Dewers and said, “Fair nuff.” The fifth victim had been found in a vacant lot behind O’Neill’s Bar by a delivery driver. Like the first four, she had been strangled and sexually assaulted. The killer had used a Trojan condom when he assaulted the victim. Like all other victims, a smiley-faced balloon had been left as a calling card.
    “So, it’s number five, eh?” Mac finished.
    “Looks that way.”
    Mac hated to ask, “Anything new?”
    “Notta, and that fuckin’ balloon,” Riles sighed. “Cripes, the guy’s mocking us with that damn thing.”
    “You guys trace the balloon?”
    “Yeah. You can buy them at forty-seven different locations in the Twin Cities by last count. No way to trace a specific balloon to a specific package or box. We’ve had guys go to all the stores, but we’ve got nothing.”
    “What about this victim?”
    “That’s one thing that’s a little different this time. This one was a CFO at a local company. The other victims weren’t professional, educated type ladies. We got a couple waitresses, one convenience-store clerk, and a gal who worked a drive thru. This one was a professional. So, that’s a little different. The rest is pretty much the same.”
    They talked for a few more minutes. Pat was running the show on the serial killer case and had had a few meetings with the chief. The mayor was putting the pressure on about the murders and wondered if increasing the detail or changing the detail leadership would be necessary.
    “What did Flanagan say to that?”
    “What do you think he said?”
    Mac smiled. “Told the mayor to go fuck himself, huh?”
    A small smile creased Riles face. “Yeah. I’m sure there was a certain level of political-speak involved, but that’s basically what he said. Of course, he can only do that for so long. We need to bring this sucker home.” Pat took another sip from his drink. “Man, do we need a break in this thing.” He shook his head and looked down.
    They chatted for a few more minutes. Pat was drunk. Mac made eye contact with the bartender and nodded towards Pat and made a steering motion with his free hand. The bartender returned the nod and scampered off. A minute later Bobby Rockford, a member of Pat’s detail, ambled over and offered Pat a ride home. Well, it wasn’t really an offer, it was a “try to drive and I’ll kick your ass” proposition. Pat, too tired to argue, took the last sip of his Dewers and headed out with Rock.
    Mac ordered another beer, grabbed a newspaper and menu from behind the bar and took an open booth by the front window, away from the crowd. His cousin Kelly came over and chatted him up for a few minutes, then took his order for a BLT. Mac had just flipped open the Business section when he heard, “Mind if I join you?”
    Mac looked up to see Sally Kennedy. “Evenin’, counselor. What brings you here?”
    “Some friends were supposed to be here, but I’m a little late. They seem to have left.” Kennedy took a look around. She obviously wanted to have a drink, but who wanted to drink alone, other than George Thorogood? Mac offered, “Grab a seat. I just ordered something from the kitchen. Hungry?”
    Kennedy smiled her thanks. “No. What’re you drinking?”
    “A Guinness. Can I order you one?”
    “Sounds good.”
    Mac motioned to Kelly, held up his glass and one finger. A beer was there thirty seconds later.
    Kennedy thanked