“Welcome, sir,” the old freckled-faced manager said to me as I walked inside. “Your guests are already here. Do you need anything else?”
“No, this will not take long,” I said to him as I walked forward through the hall lined with Venetian bricks. I stopped when I got to the dimly light dining room. The glass dome above brought in no light, not even the moon. They sat near the saltwater Roman-style fountain, drinking, tossing poker chips on the tables, before laughing amongst themselves.
“I’m telling you the fastest way to kill a man is to give him a wife. Fatimah has me drinking fucking kale twice a damn day and some fucking protein shake instead of coffee because she read some article by a hack who said there might be a link between coffee beans and cancer!” Major Gutpa replied, chucking a few cards in the center and gulping down the brown liquor in his glass. His brown face bunched together at the taste. His tie was gone from his neck. His black curly hair even more unruly than normal.
“Just wait until she has you doing chair poses at yoga,” Governor Orton—aka The Alp, as he was even bigger than my Uncle Neal—huffed with a cigar in his mouth as he searched his cards.
“You in yoga?” Police Commissioner McCoy laughed so hard I thought his dentures would fall out. The man had teeth as big as a goddamn horse. “How the hell do you get that big old body of yours to twist?” he asked while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his long white nose.
“Old? I got to be at least fifteen years younger than you,” Governor Orton shot back. “And it moves just fine. After all, neither my wife or my yoga instructor complain, if you know what I mean.”
“Bullshit. I’ve met Brigitte. She’d kill your yoga instructor with her own two hands,” Chief Mataka laughed as she tossed her own chips into the middle. She was around the same age as McCoy. Her short, curly gray hair looked like it came out of a black and white sitcom. She was a tall woman with a broad-shouldered stature and age spots over her white face.
“Only if I didn’t let her watch,” Governor Orton winked at the chief and then laughed outright, nearly blowing the smoke out of his mouth. He raised his glass, and one of their private security guards came over with another bottle from the bar at the far side of the room.
I counted six private security total in the dining hall. All six looked as if they were on edge, which made wonder how much their employers had told them. If only they knew the full story.
“Everywhere I go, it’s like everyone is having a good time except me,” I finally spoke up, and upon hearing me, they turned to look before rising from their chairs as I came over.
“I wouldn’t expect less from the busiest family in Chicago,” Commissioner McCoy said as he reached out to shake my hand.
“Are we really? I would never have guessed,” I said in response. I shook his hand and moved to the rest of them. “Thank you for making time for me so late.”
“We should be thanking you, after all it’s your liquor,” the governor said. He laughed, raising the glass in his hand to me before drinking. “Adam, get this man something good.”
He nodded his head to the brown-haired man dressed in black no more than a foot away from us.
“No need. It’s well, it’s the least that I could do for all the help you all have given my family lately,” I said as leaned back, undoing my jacket button. “It’s been a crazy a few weeks.”
“Yes, I heard about your brother’s wife, please send our condolences,” Mayor Gutpa added.
I smiled and nodded. “Will do if you’re alive when this is all over.”
They all paused, expect for Governor Orton. He turned and looking me dead in the eyes as he spoke. “The one thing I’ve always admired about you Callahans is that you know how to play smart and dirty.”
“I’m guessing there is a ‘but’ somewhere in this statement,” I replied.
“Lately things aren’t feeling as smart,” Chief Mataka finished for him, putting her cards face down on the table. “Or as dirty, in fact. Just simply violent.”
“Smart and dirty is my brother. Violence is all I know.”
“You don’t think anyone is going to question it if something were to happen to the four most prominent people in this damn state?” Commissioner McCoy pressed. “We aren’t the same as them rugrats in your little pyramid.”
I grinned so wide you’d think I’d lost my mind. “Do you all truly believe you could stand a chance against me?”
“Alone, never.” Mayor Gutpa frowned, stroking the side of his chin. “Together we’ve got much better odds. Do you really think we took these positions without safety nets? That we don’t talk or share information? We knew we signed a deal with the devil when it came to your family. We’ve been preparing for you for years.”
“Hey. Hey. Hey.” Governor Orton held his hands up in front of the mayor. At least he knew better not to hush me like that. He turned his rock-like face to me. “What my friend here is trying to say is…we are team players. If something is bothering you, we don’t have to go down this road of threats. Just let us know what we can do for you, and we’ll get it done. We’re all in this together.”
I frowned, trying to think. “There was this old musical my nanny would make us watch one time that had a dance number. The song said that, too... I’m trying to remember.”
“High School Musical?” Chief Mataka.
I snapped my fingers. “Yes! That was it. It was so fucking annoying. Me and my sister hated it, but our nanny was determined for some reason that we watch and even create musicals with her. Luckily for her, my sister complained to my dad, and she was fired before accidently tripping down the stairs...I’m sorry that was random. But now you know how I feel listening to you all speak.”
“You’re not a very reasonable fella, are you?” Governor Orton asked.
“I have my moments.” I lifted one of the decks from the table and flipped down cards. “However, I heard you, Governor. You all sold your souls, and you’re willing to do whatever I need you all to do. But my question is…why didn’t any of you remember that before I got to this table…before drugs were stolen, and then sold by none other than the damn Chicago PD? If we’re all in this together, why am I not enjoying the expensive brandy and playing cards? Would anyone like to help me find a reasonable answer to my questions?”