“What’s wrong, Miss Ella?” Pastor Karen asked while the aide began fussing with Claudia.

“I talked to your detective this morning and I’m trying to explain to my sister what she reported. It’s not easy. I told Claudia before you ever brought in this detective it wouldn’t be easy.”

“Did Ms. Warshawski find Lamont?” The pastor pulled a chair up so that she was sitting between the two sisters.

“She found someone who saw him go into a blues bar with the head of a street gang the night he disappeared. My sister has never wanted to believe Lamont could have been dealing drugs.”

“Not drugs!” Claudia, anxiously following the dialogue, shouted the phrase. “Oh! Can’t talk, can’t ’splain. ’Condas, gang, yes! Bad, no. Not bad, not ’Mont.”

She began crying again, tears of rage and frustration at her inability to speak.

10 - THE ROAR OF THE HOOF

10

THE ROAR OF THE HOOF

I HAD HOPED THAT WHEN I LEFT THE PUBLIC DEFENDER’S Office, I had also left Johnny Merton behind. I just didn’t know who else to talk to about Lamont Gadsden or Steve Sawyer. I searched some legal databases and was relieved to find Merton easily. I was beginning to think I didn’t know how to find people anymore. The Hammer was in Stateville, doing twenty-five to life, for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and other crimes too heinous to mention in a family paper.

I tracked down Johnny Merton’s lawyer. If I could persuade Merton and his attorney to let me in as part of Johnny’s legal team, it would be my best shot at seeing him soon. Getting on the visitors’ list at Stateville can take six weeks or longer.

The lawyer’s name was Greg Yeoman, with an office on Fifty-fifth Street. So Johnny had left the big downtown firms behind and returned to home base in his current round of troubles. That probably said more about his income than his politics.

I drafted a letter to Johnny, with a copy to Yeoman, and returned to more pressing, or at least more lucrative, searches. Even though I was exhausted after my short night and long day, I kept going until almost seven, trying to catch up on paper.

I was finally packing up for the day when the outer bell rang. I saw my cousin on the video monitor and walked outside to meet her. Elton Grainger was there, too, offering Petra a copy of Streetwise.

“Vic, you saved my life.” He gave an elaborate bow and kissed my fingertips. He was graceful on his feet but smelled of sweet wine.

“You did?” Petra’s face lit up. Perhaps she pictured me stepping in front of a sniper, or some other exciting scene from Burn Notice.