The climb from the parking area to the stop of the Enger Tower was steep.

Having grown wise in the way of things since her accident, Fae O’Neill started slow and stopped frequently.  Halfway up she remembered why she had stopped coming here.  And that had been years before she had broken her back.  She could feel the dull ache starting to grind into the lower part of her back and begin attacking her hips.  Soon it would begin its climb up her spine and make her wish for a long soak in a hot tub with a bottle of something stronger than orange juice.  Instead, she reached into her bag for the ever-present pain medication and water bottle.  It wouldn’t take hold for awhile yet, but with any luck it would do its magic before she felt like screaming.

She checked her watch and resumed her climb.  Her obsession with being on time meant she was usually ungodly early.  It was a habit she didn’t think about much any more – hadn’t in so long she would’ve had to think about it had anyone asked.  Over time it had become one of those ingrained habits from years of practice.  Sort of like brushing her teeth or putting on clothes before leaving the house.  For some reason, it irritated the people who knew her, but it kept her stress down and gave her a chance to think or, even better, sneak a chapter or two of the latest Stephen King novel before life reared its head with demands, obligations and the unexpected.

Now that it took her four times longer to do everything, the habit ensured that she still managed to be on time.  She stopped once again and looked at the last step.  They were wide enough and railroad ties made them strong and sturdy.  But whoever had designed the stairway had apparently assumed people foolish enough to climb up to the Enger Tower were in good condition.  At least bodily.  They were higher than regular stairs and it took strong legs to get the lift needed for each one.

Maybe it was time to be a little easier on herself and pick meeting places on the same level as her car.  Still, it was worth the effort, assuming she could make it the whole way.  Especially these days.

The climb reminded Fae of her senior class trip in high school when they had gone to the Washington monument and she and two others had dared each other to climb all the way to the top.  They had finally made it, but missed the bus back to the hotel and had had to find a cab.  Heady stuff for three kids from Minnesota who had never been anywhere before.  They had been stiff and sore for the rest of the trip and Fae had sworn to take an elevator for anything more than three floors after that.

Not that the climb up this hill was anything like the Washington Monument.  But since the accident that had cracked her spine in several places and left her unable to walk for months, anything over five steps felt as if it was the Washington Monument all over again.  On the other hand, the view at the top of the monument had been worth the climb.  Not to mention the bragging rights.  Now, although she could only brag to her cats when she returned home, Fae was determined to get back to normal life as soon as possible.  And climbing this hill again was not only part of that, it was a minor victory considering she had been unable to walk just six months ago.

When she finally reached the top, Fae found an empty bench with a good view of the Duluth Harbor.  She pulled her inflatable donut out of her bag, placed it on the bench and then sat on it.  It wasn’t elegant, but made sitting on hard surfaces a little easier.  Besides, she’d gotten over elegant a long time ago.  She carried all her necessities in a canvas bag that read “Well behaved women seldom make history” and which made her smile every time she looked at it.

A few minutes later, she saw Bailey reach the top of the steps and stop to catch his breath.  His jacket was off and his tie had been loosened so much that the knot barely kept it from flying away.  He mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and then looked around.  Fae grinned.  At least she wasn’t the only one who was out of shape.  He returned her smile as he came over and plopped down on the bench next to her.

“Good god, Fae,” he said.  “Why the hell did you want to meet up here?  Are you trying to kill me?”

“It’ll do you good,” she replied tartly.  “You get less exercise than my cat.”

“How the hell did you get up here?” he asked, looking at her sharply.  “There’s no way you climbed that hill.”

“Oh yes I did.  What you don’t see is all the drugs I took to make it possible.”  She grimaced.  “Probably wasn’t a good idea.  But you know me.  I always think I can do more than is possible and then live to wish I hadn’t.”

“Hah.”  He shook his head.  “Tomorrow I’ll probably wish I hadn’t agreed to meet up here.  I’m too old for this.”

“When’s the last time you were up here?”

“God.”  He looked at the horizon, thinking.  “Had to have been when I was a kid and we came up for a camping trip.  My folks were always going somewhere in a car full of kids, a tent and camping gear tied to the roof.  I probably thought it was fun then.”

“Funny how things change when you get old and stiff,” Fae grinned.  “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m already wishing for a nice long soak in a very hot tub.”

“Serve you right, too.”  He looked out over the harbor.  “Still, it’s a great view once you survive the climb.”

“It certainly is.  And it’s unlikely anyone we know will see us here, either.”

He nodded.  “There is that.  And if anyone does, all they have to do is look at that get-up you’re in, and they’ll think anything but investigator.”

Fae grinned.  She had deliberately worn her wildest outfit to this meeting.  Partly because of Bailey’s request for secrecy, but partly for sheer fun.  It was comfortable, but more importantly, it was who she was when she wasn’t working.  After the accident, somehow that had become a lot more important than before.

“So what’s this all about?” Fae asked.  “It’s a bit cloak and dagger, even for you.”

He sighed.  “How possible would it be for you to do a very quiet investigation for me.”

“As in …”

“You report only to me.  You don’t talk to anyone else in the office about it.  And are you up to returning to work?”

She looked at him hard, then back at the view.  “I can probably manage it.  The pain gets pretty bad sometimes, but I can work around it.  Especially if it’s important.  But why don’t you want anyone else to know?”

“I don’t know if this guy has ESP, he’s as lucky as hell, or if there’s a leak,” Bailey told her.  “Every time we’ve gotten close to him, he turns into smoke and we have to start over.  Now it looks like he’s resurfaced and I’d very much like to nail his ass to the barn door with a very long spike.”

“Very bad guy then.”

“Very.  But not the way you probably think.”  His expression was speculative.  “Did you ever see The Sting?”

“The movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Who didn’t.”

“Like it?”

“Loved it.  Saw it three or four times and bought a copy.  It’s great.”

“Liked the characters?”

“You mean Newman and Redford?”

“They played a couple of con men,” Bailey said.  “Newman played Henry Gondorf.  Who was real, by the way.  Redford’s character was fictional.  Both very likeable.  Loveable even.  Ran a con against a bad guy.  A really bad guy.  So everyone cheered for the con men.  Great ending.  Won a bunch of awards.  Great picture.”

Fae looked at him, suspicious.  “So why do I get this very odd feeling that you have a slightly different view?”

“Because everyone liked the con men,” he said flatly.  “Likeable.  No one got hurt except the bad guy who deserved it.”  He was quiet for a long time.  “People have this perception that con men are fun and no one gets hurt.  After all, that’s how it is in the movies and on TV.  Problem is, con men are despicable.  No.  More than that.  They’re scum.  People do get hurt.  In a way, it’s almost worse than murder, because the victims have to live with the betrayal, the violation, and years of aggravation.  Cons destroy faith and trust.  The cynicism and distrust they create is worse for our society than just about anything.  Killers have their guns in plain sight.  But con men?  They smile in your face and stab you in the back.  They’re sneaks, cowards and prey on the goodness of other people.  They’re like a social form of AIDS.  And when they go after old people who are sitting ducks for their scams, it makes me want to skin them alive.”

Fae stared at him, stunned at the venom in his voice.  “I guess I never thought about it like that,” she said finally.

“Who does?” he said bitterly.  “Until someone you know gets fleeced and their lives are destroyed.  Then suddenly you get a different perspective.  But how many people are close to a victim of a con man?  Not to mention the people who were taken and are too ashamed to tell anyone.”

“Who did you know?” she asked.

“An elderly couple in Anoka.  George and Angela Williams.  Took them for everything they had.  Which wasn’t much.  They were old school people, you know?  Believed in the goodness of other people.  Believed in old fashioned values like trust and decency.  Bottom line?  They were in their eighties.  Worked hard their entire lives and should have been enjoying their retirement and their grandchildren.  Then this guy came along and destroyed them.”  He turned to face Fae.  “And all because they wanted to help him.”

Fae waited as Bailey stared out over Lake Superior.

“I grew up just a few doors down the street,” he said finally.  “Mowed their lawn.  Hung out with their kids.  The nicest people you’d ever want to meet.  Mrs. Williams always seemed to have fresh baked cookies and Mr. Williams always had time to explain things or just plain listen.  The original Minnesota Nice.”

He stared down at his hands.  “They killed themselves.  Couldn’t live with the disgrace.  What they didn’t expect was that their eight year old granddaughter would find them first.”

“Oh geez.”  Fae felt as if all her breath had been knocked out of her.  “So who is this guy and what do you want me to do?”

“We’re not sure what his real name is, but he has a number of aliases we’ve tied together.  One of them is Ricky Bakken.”

“As in Ollie?  The goalie?”

He snorted.  “Can you believe that?  And he used it at a motel on the North Shore.”

“Ahh, I’m beginning to get a glimmer.”

“Stayed at the Bide-A-Wee a few weeks ago.  Harry Peterson’s the owner and went to school with Ollie.  Knew Ollie didn’t have a brother.”

“I can’t believe he’d use that name up here.”

“Thank god he did.  It’s his first real slip and may help us catch him finally.”

“So you want me to talk to Harry.  Maybe nose around.  See if maybe this guy is up to something in my neck of the woods?”

“Exactly.”

“Why me?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “It’s your neck of the woods.”

Fae wasn’t fooled.  “And?”

He gave her a humorless smile.  “He doesn’t know you.  He doesn’t even know about you.  Also, you’re still officially on leave.  At this point, only one other person even knows about the tip.  So no one even knows we might be onto him.  If someone at the BCA is leaking information, they’ll have nothing to leak.  So the chances are good you’ll be able to get somewhere without him tipping to it.”

“I see.”

“Just remember, this guy is very smart,” Bailey said.  “More importantly, he has street smarts and seems to be able to smell us coming.  I’m hoping that this time we may be able to circumvent that just a little.”

“So how do I get the file?”

“I have them in my car.”

She laughed.  “Of course you do.  Why am I not surprised?”  She thought about it for a few minutes.  She hadn’t thought seriously about a case since the accident and still felt as if her brain had turned to cottage cheese.  “So what’s not in the file?”

“I put a folder with my notes in there for you.  It’s not official and has nothing to do with evidence or admissibility or anything we can actually use.  It’s mostly observations, suspicions, rumors and that sort of thing.  Some of it may be helpful.”  He stood up and held out his hand.

Fae took it and lurched to her feet.  “It takes a minute to get moving again,” she told him as she packed up her cushion.

“How long’s it going to take?” he asked.

“Before I’m back to normal?”

He nodded.

“Maybe never,” she said.  “But now that I’m starting to get around on my own steam, I figure I’ll be pretty close in a few months.  Given everything, I’m pretty happy with that.”

“Need any help down?”

“I won’t say no to a strong arm,” she smiled.  “Those stairs are a bitch.”

Once they reached the bottom, Fae opened the trunk of her hatchback while Bailey carted over several boxes.  Once everything was transferred, he handed her his card.

“My home number is on the back and I think you have my direct line.”

“I do.”

“Any time,” he said.  “I don’t care if it’s three a.m.  If you have anything, even if it’s just a question, I want you to call me.”

“What’s why you’re the boss and they pay you the big bucks,” she joked.

He laughed.  “Right.”

© 2010

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