this fag thing, and I gotta wonder.”
“Yeah. I can see that. So where you going with it?”
“Gotta run it out.”
“Yeah. Old man know?”
“Haven’t told him.”
“Let’s hope you don’t have to. He’s got a little kill-the-messenger streak in him.”
“Anyway, wanted you to know, just so nothing comes at you out of leftfield. You can decide what the mayor needs to know. Speaking of which, you want me to fill in the Fed twins or your pet spook?”
“The Feds are just here to help out with the nigger shit. Don’t tell them nothin’ on this other stuff. Fisher? Don’t even talk to that bastard you don’t talk to me first. That son of a bitch makes my sack shrivel up. As far as what the mayor needs to know, I ever gotta tell him the kid was taking it up the ass, we’re both screwed.”
Later, Riley and Ezekiel Fisher walked through the plaza, past the Picasso statue.
“ME got the fag stuff,” Riley said.
“We had to figure that was possible,” said Fisher. “Is it being pursued?”
“This Lynch guy, he’s got the bit in his teeth. I’ll leave that with you.”
“I understand,” said Fisher.
CHAPTER 14 – CHICAGO
1971
Declan Lynch pulled up the alley behind the house on Neenah and parked the Impala next to the garage. He was working on the upstairs bathroom with his boy and had all kinds of crap in the garage. His wife Julie was kneeling down, facing the house, working at the strip of flowers she always kept along the wall. Her butt sticking out at him in a pair of tight plaid Bermudas.
“Damn, yard looks better already, long as you stay bent over like that.”
She sat back on her haunches, flicked her dark hair out of her face, and turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“You are just a fiend, Declan Lynch.”
“Trust me on this one, doll, I’m way down on the fiend scale.”
She got up and walked across the small yard, meeting him at the gate, quick hug and peck.
“So, big shot, how’s life down at City Hall?”
Lynch blew out a long breath. “Baby, month from now I’m either gonna be commissioner or I’m looking at life on traffic duty.”
She gave him a quick squeeze, just letting him know how things stood with her. Felt good.
“You should get upstairs and see the kids. They’ve got a surprise for you.”
“That good or bad?”
She smiled. “I haven’t checked yet.”
Lynch walked past Missy, their old black lab, sleeping against the fence next to the dog house he and Johnny had built a couple years back, went in the side door and up the stairs. House was the typical quasi-bungalow that filled up the whole northwest side. Upstairs had one big unfinished room when he bought the place, with two bedrooms, kitchen, one bath, and a parlor down. Last summer, he’d roughed in the plumbing to put another bath upstairs, Johnny working right there with him. Kid had a real talent for it, picking up stuff just watching. Through the winter, he and Johnny had roughed in the walls, turned the rest of the upstairs space into the new master bedroom, put the shower and toilet and sink in. All that was left was getting the tile down on the bathroom floor and painting.
As Lynch went up the stairs, he could hear Johnny talking to his sister.
“That’s it, Collie. Just run that rag along there and get that extra grout up before it dries on the tiles. You’re doing great.”
He heard Colleen giggle. “It’s cold.”
At the top of the stairs, Lynch could see the boxes from the tile place, couple of corner pieces Johnny had snipped off sitting in an empty box.
“Fe, fie, fo, fum,” Lynch rumbled, turning the corner toward the bath. “I better not find things screwed up by no bums.”
“Daddy!” Colleen squealed, running out of the bathroom. She was only seven. Johnny walked out behind her, wiping his hands on a shop towel. Smile on his face told Lynch all he needed to know – kid had done things right.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How’s it going,
“Yeah. I can see that. So where you going with it?”
“Gotta run it out.”
“Yeah. Old man know?”
“Haven’t told him.”
“Let’s hope you don’t have to. He’s got a little kill-the-messenger streak in him.”
“Anyway, wanted you to know, just so nothing comes at you out of leftfield. You can decide what the mayor needs to know. Speaking of which, you want me to fill in the Fed twins or your pet spook?”
“The Feds are just here to help out with the nigger shit. Don’t tell them nothin’ on this other stuff. Fisher? Don’t even talk to that bastard you don’t talk to me first. That son of a bitch makes my sack shrivel up. As far as what the mayor needs to know, I ever gotta tell him the kid was taking it up the ass, we’re both screwed.”
Later, Riley and Ezekiel Fisher walked through the plaza, past the Picasso statue.
“ME got the fag stuff,” Riley said.
“We had to figure that was possible,” said Fisher. “Is it being pursued?”
“This Lynch guy, he’s got the bit in his teeth. I’ll leave that with you.”
“I understand,” said Fisher.
CHAPTER 14 – CHICAGO
1971
Declan Lynch pulled up the alley behind the house on Neenah and parked the Impala next to the garage. He was working on the upstairs bathroom with his boy and had all kinds of crap in the garage. His wife Julie was kneeling down, facing the house, working at the strip of flowers she always kept along the wall. Her butt sticking out at him in a pair of tight plaid Bermudas.
“Damn, yard looks better already, long as you stay bent over like that.”
She sat back on her haunches, flicked her dark hair out of her face, and turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“You are just a fiend, Declan Lynch.”
“Trust me on this one, doll, I’m way down on the fiend scale.”
She got up and walked across the small yard, meeting him at the gate, quick hug and peck.
“So, big shot, how’s life down at City Hall?”
Lynch blew out a long breath. “Baby, month from now I’m either gonna be commissioner or I’m looking at life on traffic duty.”
She gave him a quick squeeze, just letting him know how things stood with her. Felt good.
“You should get upstairs and see the kids. They’ve got a surprise for you.”
“That good or bad?”
She smiled. “I haven’t checked yet.”
Lynch walked past Missy, their old black lab, sleeping against the fence next to the dog house he and Johnny had built a couple years back, went in the side door and up the stairs. House was the typical quasi-bungalow that filled up the whole northwest side. Upstairs had one big unfinished room when he bought the place, with two bedrooms, kitchen, one bath, and a parlor down. Last summer, he’d roughed in the plumbing to put another bath upstairs, Johnny working right there with him. Kid had a real talent for it, picking up stuff just watching. Through the winter, he and Johnny had roughed in the walls, turned the rest of the upstairs space into the new master bedroom, put the shower and toilet and sink in. All that was left was getting the tile down on the bathroom floor and painting.
As Lynch went up the stairs, he could hear Johnny talking to his sister.
“That’s it, Collie. Just run that rag along there and get that extra grout up before it dries on the tiles. You’re doing great.”
He heard Colleen giggle. “It’s cold.”
At the top of the stairs, Lynch could see the boxes from the tile place, couple of corner pieces Johnny had snipped off sitting in an empty box.
“Fe, fie, fo, fum,” Lynch rumbled, turning the corner toward the bath. “I better not find things screwed up by no bums.”
“Daddy!” Colleen squealed, running out of the bathroom. She was only seven. Johnny walked out behind her, wiping his hands on a shop towel. Smile on his face told Lynch all he needed to know – kid had done things right.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How’s it going,
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