Konrath, Joe - Dirty Martini Read Free Page A

O’Loughlin stood up and extended her hand. She wasn’t much taller standing than sitting. We shook, and her grip was stronger than Davy’s. “I’m glad you’ve finally graced us with your presence. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    “Car trouble,” I lied. “The pleasure is mine, Superintendent.”
    She did the shaking thing with Herb, and then we were instructed to sit. Bains joined us. Davy remained standing.
    The super pushed a piece of paper across her desk. “My office received a letter this afternoon, addressed to me.”
    Herb and I leaned forward and read.
     

    I am the one spreading the botulism toxin. I’ve visited sixteen places so far. One was a deli on Irving Park. You will agree to pay me two million dollars, or my next target will kill hundreds of people.

    This isn’t terrorism. I’m not some dumb Islamic fundamentalist. I’m a venture capitalist. I’m investing in fear and death. Pay me or I’ll branch out.

    Take out an ad in the Friday Sun-Times in the personals and say “Chemist—the answer is yes.”

    You’ll hear from me soon.

    To prove I am who I say I am, this paper has been coated with BT.
     
    Even though I could see the photocopy smudges, I suddenly wanted to distance myself from the paper. Botulism had been the top story for the last two days. The quick and deadly effects of the disease were terrifying.
    “There was a powdery residue in the envelope with the letter,” the super said. “The secretary who opened it is at Rush-Presbyterian. She tested positive for botulism toxin. Three other people at the First District came into contact with the letter. So far they’re asymptomatic, but they’re being treated with antitoxin and remain under observation.”
    Herb also seemed uncomfortable being so close to the note.
    “I heard on the news there are nine dead so far,” he said.
    The super’s mouth became a grim line. “The number is actually thirty-two, with over six hundred confirmed cases. We haven’t released the figures. The CDC, WHO, and USAMRIID have been notified, but everyone else is still under the impression that this is a naturally occurring outbreak, not a terrorist act.”
    My mind harkened back to the anthrax scares after 9/11. The paranoia. The panic. Having this happen in my city was unfathomable. I thought about the tens of thousands of restaurants, cafés, bakeries, delis, supermarkets, and food stands in Chicago. One person, spreading a deadly toxin, could kill untold numbers before we even caught a lead.
    “Has the FBI been contacted?” I asked.
    “Yes. The Feds are sending a Hazardous Materials Response Team, which should arrive anytime. I’m sure Homeland Security will have a hand or three in as well.”
    The super took a deep breath, then hit me with a stare so intense I had to fight to maintain eye contact.
    “You and Sergeant Benedict have been on high-profile cases before, and when this breaks, it will be world news. You’ve had experience with product tampering. You’ve also had experience where the perpetrator contacted the police department.”
    I didn’t volunteer that both of those cases were actually the same case, and that the MO was entirely different from this one. Instead I said, “So we’re here to consult?”
    “No,” she said. “This case is yours.”
    Herb made a tiny gagging sound. I tried to get my head around this. Bains glanced at me like he didn’t believe it either.
    “We appreciate the vote of confidence, Superintendent O’Loughlin. But if this is simply because I’m a woman—”
    “Spare me the kiss-ass and the righteous indignation, Lieutenant. I didn’t choose you because you’re the best cop in the city, or because you have tits. There were ten people on the list ahead of you. All of them men. The mayor got roasted when he appointed a woman in charge of the CPD. I’m not anxious to commit the same career suicide.”
    That’s what I figured. “So why—”
    Davy stood behind the super, the smile on