“They don’t kill him.”

“I don’t think so. But it doesn’t mean that what they might do to him is particularly pleasant.”

“It’s thin. We don’t even know for sure Jimmy Albert did work for Wooldridge.”

“You have anything thicker?”

“No, I don’t.” Langdon wiped her hands with a napkin, crumpled it up and tossed it into the vendor’s bin. “All right, let’s start digging things up on Wooldridge.”

“What do you mean ‘let’s’? I’m done. You blackmailed me to see Katie. I went to see Katie. You asked me to talk to Mason for you. I talked to Mason. I’m finished. I’m excused. I have other work I have to do.”

“I still need you. You’ve been helpful so far. You’ve gotten this investigation further along that I would have gotten on my own.”

“As far as I can see I’m the one who’s doing all the work.”

“That’s not true but I can see how it would seem that way to you.”

“Thanks, no. I have actual work.”

“I’ll pay you.”

“Will you.”

“Sure. You can be a Chicago Police Department consultant on this case. You’re already a state employee so getting you a vendor number shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m not cheap.”

Langdon shrugged. “It’s just tax money.”

“You’re serious.”

Langdon nodded. “We’re getting places. I like making progress. I want to find this guy before something shitty happens to him. I don’t want you run down by an angry spouse.”

“Let me think about it over lunch.”

“I just had lunch.”

“I didn’t.”

“Fine.” Langdon motioned toward the hot dog guy. “Have a dog. I’m buying.”

Chapter Five

“This is nice,” Langdon said to me, as we walked onto Wooldridge’s property on North Dearborn Parkway.

“This is expensive,” I said.

“How old do you think this place is?”

“I’d guess it’s been around since the turn of the century.”

“I think it’s older than that.”

“I meant the other turn of the century.”

“Oh. Right.”

We ascended the exterior stairs where a security officer, dressed as a butler, and another man, dressed in a business suit, awaited us.

“Detective Langdon,” the business suit said, extending his hand. Langdon shook it. “I’m Garrett Trimble. Mr. Wooldridge’s personal assistant.” He turned to me. “And?”

“This is my associate, Anthony Valdez. He’s from the Agency, assisting with my investigation.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Mr. Valdez,” Trimble reached out for my hand. We shook. “I do hope you understand that Mr. Wooldridge is in mourning for his wife. Elaine passed away just a few days ago.”

“We heard,” Langdon said. “Our deepest condolences to him and to you.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“You do know that we are here to ask him questions about Mr. Albert, the dispatcher who worked with Mrs. Wooldridge.”