After John and I returned I walked back to my office and I called Detective Williams. I told her I had obtained some information relating to the headless women that have been popping up around Milwaukee. EJ said Harry was out of the office and she was about to leave.
“Max, if what you have is important to this case, then meet us at the precinct tomorrow morning at 8:30 a.m. and don’t even think about being late.”
“EJ, I would never think about being late for a date with you.”
“Max, this isn’t a date, it’s an appointment.” She hung up on me. Mildred rang my office.
“A Mr. Greenberg called for you Max. He wants you to call him,” Mildred said before hanging up on me.
I immediately dialed the Beaver Dam Citizen’s mailroom.
“Hello.” Horace answered on the first ring.
“Horace, what do you have for me?”
“Max, you aren’t going to believe this. Where are you?”
“I’m not going to believe where I am? What are you talking about?”
“No, Max, I was wondering where you are and that you won’t believe the information I gathered for our article on the mass murders in Milwaukee. We need to meet.”
“Our article, huh? Okay, I’m on my way to Rocco’s Pub, do you know where that’s at, on the corner of North Avenue and Highway 100 in Wauwatosa? If you’re headin’ to Milwaukee to see your buddy stop in and I’ll buy you a Pink Squirrel and we can go over what you got.”
“ A Pink Squirrel, yech, I got terribly sick one night with Ricky when we had, well, I lost count after ten, of them. I’ll have a slow gin fizz. I can be there in about an hour, okay?”
“Okay,” I said and hung up on him.
I was thinking about what Horace might have unearthed from his weird friends and how it might tie in to this case when I decided I should talk with Thelma again. I put a call into Judge’s Beyond The Reef, hoping to speak with Jimmy The Peanut so I he could give me Thelma’s telephone number. I needed some background information on Sally Hammonds and she might be the quickest route to get it.
A pretty voice answered on the first ring; “Judges Beyond The Reef, how may I help you.”
Not only was I impressed with the young lady’s sexy voice, but grammatically correct English as well.
“Hello, I replied, is Jimmy The Peanut there?”
“He won’t be in for another hour. May I take a message for him?”
“You sure may, sweetie, tell him to call Max Fly.” I left Rocco’s number and hung up.
I scooped up my notes on the headless women and left the office. The rays of the afternoon sun sliced through the office buildings lining Milwaukee Avenue making me squint as I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Marcello and Associates office. I saw my Nash 600 baking in the heat in the parking lot across the street. I looked both ways before crossing, as my mother taught me, and hurried toward my car. My mind was wrapped around Thelma and the information gathered from her roommate’s diary when from out of nowhere a black sedan came barreling down on me. Luckily I looked up in time and was able to dive between two beat up old fords parked along the curb barely avoiding a nasty accident. I scrambled to my feet to see the tail end of the sedan turn on 21st Street heading south toward the Milwaukee River. Whoever that was, they obviously tried to kill me. That was no accident, it was a deliberate attempt on Ol’ Max’ life.
Who would want to kill me? I mean, not counting my ex wife and a few other ladies whose paths crossed mine over the years.
I never saw a woman drive like that so I doubted it was one of my female acquaintances. So I figured it had to be someone who wanted me to back off this headless woman story I was working. But who, one of Palermo’s goons? Did he find out I met with Thelma at Judge’s? Maybe the killer? Was I getting close to him? If I was closing in on the killer, why run me down in broad daylight in the front of an ex-FBI agent’s office? That was a risky thing to do. I figured the car was probably stolen and whoever was driving it probably would ditch it. But he would also try again so I had better stay alert.
I bent over and picked up my briefcase and checked out my pants and coat for any rips and tears. Luckily my wranglers were tough and didn’t tear and my corduroy sports coat was just a bit dirty from my well executed tuck and roll maneuver.