"Not just a colleague. Respected colleague. Important friend of Evelyn's."
"Okay," Quinn said. "I see the problem. So I'll handle this. Yes, I know it's not my thing, but I can manage it. The guy's got to be at least, what, sixty? It won't require working him over. Just a little intimidation."
Jack shook his head. "No intimidation. Straight-up talk."
"Not good enough," Quinn said. "We have to--"
"Damn," I said. "I need more coffee. I must be drifting off, because I could swear Quinn's arguing to interrogate a guy, while Jack wants to just talk to him. Did I miss the Freaky Friday switch? Oh, no, wait. Jack's sentences aren't getting any longer."
He gave me a look. I made a face in return.
"I'm going with Jack on this," I said. "I have no problem with stronger persuasion, but I'm not feeling threatened enough right now to beat answers out of an old man who might be perfectly willing to part with them. If it fails . . ."
"I'll go harder," Jack said. "No question." He looked at Quinn. "I want answers as much as you do."
Quinn's gaze dipped. "I know."
"I'll do what it takes to get them. But Duncan? He's reasonable. He finds out I'm friends with his mark? Evelyn is, too? And we're both pissed? He'll turn on his client in a heartbeat. We're more valuable."
"All right then," I said. "Let's set this up."
Getting in touch with Duncan proved even more complicated than deciding how to handle him. Jack had Evelyn call first. She couldn't get an answer at Duncan's and was heading off to breakfast with someone from Contrapasso. So Jack tried and had no better luck. Neither was worried. Apparently, Duncan didn't have a cell phone or an e-mail address. He didn't even have an answering machine. Jack and Evelyn had his home number. Clients had to use an answering service. Jack and Evelyn had tried both and left a message with the service, which only promised he'd respond in the next forty-eight hours.
Jack decided a personal visit was in order. While I wasn't going to meet Duncan face-to-face--too risky--I didn't want Jack going alone. We decided I'd accompany him while staying in the background, as Quinn returned to the hotel to work.
Jack may roll his eyes over Felix's tech toys, but that didn't mean there weren't any in his kit. I think he sees them the same way I see all the gadgets and gizmos to aid distance shooters--as a crutch. Skill is a lot more reliable. But some things you can't manage with skill alone. Like letting your partner listen in on a conversation you're having on the other side of several walls. Jack wore a miked earpiece, though I think he was more interested in the connected piece I was wearing, which would let him hear if I was in any trouble.
All that hassle was for nothing. We got the pieces on and tested them out and found me a safe place to hole up in Duncan's condo building . . . only to discover that the guy wasn't home.
"He's away," Jack said.
"You broke in?" I asked as we left the building.
"Nah. Saw a neighbor taking his mail. Got a good idea where he is, though. Duncan isn't a traveler. He's not home? He's at his cabin. Over in Wisconsin."
"Wisconsin?" I swore. "How far is that?"
"Little over an hour. Easy drive."
"Ah. I need to brush up on my American geography, don't I?"
"Never hurts."
I laughed, and we headed out.
Duncan's cabin was near Lake Geneva, which was, as Jack said, just over an hour from his condo in north Chicago. We arrived at a nice piece of forested property that reminded me of the lodge.
"He's here," Jack said.
Before I asked how he could tell, I squinted down the long drive. Through the trees, I could just barely make out a car a hundred meters away.
"I'll jump out here," I said.
"Thought you could stay in the car. Safer."
I waved behind us. "We've just driven two miles down a dirt road. There was no one behind us the whole way. If I stay in the car and he looks out, he's going to at least be able to tell I'm female and not Evelyn. And if you're here to talk about a hit on a woman . . ."
"Yeah. You're right. Hop out. Stay close."