Black Marsh

BLACK MARSHDEUCE MORA MYSTERY #5 JEAN HELLER This is a work of fiction. With the exception of some Chicago landmarks and commercial establishments, similarities to real people, places, and events are entirely coincidental. BLACK MARSH Copyright 2023 Jean Heller First edition February 2023 ISBN: 978-1-7327252-5-6 CONTENTS In memory ofChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Chapter 55Chapter 56Chapter 57Chapter 58Chapter 59Chapter 60Chapter 61Chapter 62Chapter 63Chapter 64Chapter 65Chapter 66Chapter 67Chapter 68Chapter 69Chapter 70Chapter 71Chapter 72Chapter 73Acknowledgments IN MEMORY OFWALTER SATTERTHWAIT A dear friend, a supportive shoulder, and one of the great mystery writers of our time. You are missed, Walter. And, as always, for Ray. Always. 1 Chicago . . . Night The night began quietly enough in downtown Chicago, an area that encompassed the Near North neighborhood above the Chicago River and The Loop south of the river. The Loop was so called because beneath Chicago’s busy downtown streets lay a labyrinth of rail tracks. They carried commuter train lines into the center city, then looped around and went out again. The trains were known collectively as The El because most ran almost entirely above ground on elevated tracks. Only in The Loop did they dive into the subterranean world. The Loop neighborhood boasted many of Chicago’s finest restaurants, stores, and theaters. Michigan Avenue, nicknamed by the Chamber of Commerce as The Magnificent Mile, ran a straight north/south line down the middle of the city. Just to the west Rush Street ran in a parallel line of some of the trendiest shopping east of Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. The area smelled of money and privilege. This night, it would smell of death. Chicago Police Training Officer Louis Cassell and Patrolman James Weldon had been touring the area since their shifts began six hours and thirteen minutes earlier. Cassell drove; Weldon worked the radio. He had used it only three times since they came on duty, twice to check in and once to check out for lunch. Cassell had eight years on the force, Weldon fewer than four months. Cassell didn’t much like the younger man. Weldon tended to talk too much and claim to know too much. He had been assigned to ride with Cassell only two months out of the academy after he and his first training officer had a falling out. His relationship with Cassell was moving in the same unhappy direction. Cassell was supposed to bring Weldon in line and smooth out his rough edges. He didn’t feel that he was making much progress. Cassell didn’t trust his young partner’s judgment. The kid was prone to unnecessary violence, bad tactical decisions, and didn’t take criticism well. Earlier in the evening he had jumped out of the squad car at a traffic light and hassled a man waiting in a delivery-only zone for his girlfriend to get off work at the Crate & Barrel store on Michigan Avenue. The guy had stayed in his car with his flashers on and wasn’t causing any problems. Nobody was delivering anything at that time of night. Weldon rapped hard enough with his nightstick on the driver’s window that he might have broken it had Cassell not ordered him back to the squad car. Cassell asked the driver what he was doing, was satisfied with his answer, and told him to move on as soon as his girlfriend showed up. The two cops hadn’t spoken to one another since. Cassell would file a report on the incident after shift. It was now moving past three a.m., and the squad car was patrolling a part of the Near North Side that made Cassell uneasy at night. Chestnut was a nice street. Upscale condos, restaurants, theaters, parks, Michigan Avenue and Rush Street, the Oak Street Beach, and Northwestern Memorial Hospital all within walking distance. But the eastern-most blocks that ended at Lake Shore Drive were badly lit, an open invitation to drug dealers, muggers, robbers, and carjackers operating in the gloom. The hour and the current weather conditions had swept most people off the streets. Winds off the still-frigid waters of Lake Michigan fingered among the downtown buildings in search of pedestrians to harass. While the calendar said it was late May, thermometers said it was forty-two. The “feels like” temperature was thirty-eight. Snow flurries swirled on the winds and melted as soon as they hit the ground. South of Chicago, spring was firmly entrenched, but in the city, winter refused to give up. Weldon and Cassell saw the two men at the same moment. They walked south from Mies Van Der Rohe Way toward Chestnut. They wore crossover trainers, dark pants, and gray hoodies with the hoods pulled close around their faces against the wind and snow. One spotted the police cruiser and pointed it out to his friend. Their pace quickened. They continued down Van Der Rohe Way, across East Pearson Street behind Water Tower Place and then into the Seneca Playground Park. They were headed for Chicago Avenue where the Northwestern University Chicago campus sprawled over acres of land and offered a multitude of places to hide from the authorities. “Pull over,” Weldon told his partner. “Need to check out these two creeps.” “They’re not hurtin’ anyone,” Cassell said. “They’re wearin’ hoodies,” Weldon replied. “So what?” Cassell snapped. “That ain’t a crime. If I was out in this weather, I’d be wearin’ a hoodie, too.” Weldon wouldn’t let it alone and Cassell finally relented. “Call in and find out if there’ve been any complaints up here tonight about two guys in hoodies.” “We can check ‘em out ourselves,” Weldon insisted. “Do what you’re told, kid,” Cassell snapped. “Now.” Dispatch reported there had been no trouble calls in the area all night. Weldon wouldn’t