War at Home: A Smokey Dalton Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

polite to say anything, especially considering the offer I had just made her.
    We talked a bit longer, and I asked for several things from her. I needed a photograph of Daniel. I also wanted a copy of Daniel’s application for Yale, copies of his scholarship questionnaires, and any other material he had sent the college. Fortunately , Grace had those in a file in her desk; she had insisted that Daniel type his materials using carbon paper. The copies were difficult to read, but legible.
    Then I asked her for any letters he had sent home, not just to her but to Elijah as well. She said it would take her a while to find those, and I knew she’d argue with me about taking them out of her apartment.
    Finally, I asked her to sit down with Elijah and make notes about the conversations they’d had with Daniel since he left for school — any and all details, no matter how trite. I wanted hints of where he would be and what he might be doing, leads that I could follow with or without finding someone in New Haven to talk with me.
    I didn’t tell her that I still had the lists she’d made for me last summer when Elijah had gone to Lincoln Park looking for his brother. Then Grace had given me the names of their local friends with a D, an E or a G beside the listings. I had noted at the time that there were very few Es, but there were a number of Ds. Daniel had known a lot of people in Chicago, and I wasn’t going to rule out that his local friends knew more about his life than his mother did.
    Grace offered to let me talk to Elijah, but I wasn’t ready to yet. I needed to put everything into a context. I also needed to get my own affairs in order. I had to either finish the cases I was working on for the various black insurance companies in town or give them back, and I had to talk to Laura, taking a leave from my work inspecting houses for Sturdy Investments.
    All of that would take time.
    As I walked back to my own apartment, I saw the kids sitting on the front lawn. They were playing cards, which surprised me. Jimmy was sitting sideways, concentrating as he set one card down and picked another up.
    Gin r ummy. That was why they looked guilty. A month ago, I had to stop Jimmy from taking Keith Grimshaw’s lunch money in weekend poker games.
    I sighed. Grace was right. I couldn’t take Jimmy with me on each visit I made in New Haven. And missing persons cases, while difficult, often went in unexpected directions. I needed the opportunity to follow each and every lead.
    I was also heading into a college. I would have to talk to young people. I learned last summer that when I walked into a room filled with college students and war protesters under the age of twenty-five , I was immediately suspect.
    If I was serious about leaving Chicago and doing a good job for Grace, I would need someone young to come with me. Someone who could talk to college students and whom I could trust with Jimmy when I had to investigate. Someone who had enough freedom to leave Chicago for a week, a month , or the entire summer if need be.
    For that, I needed Malcolm Reyner.
     

 
    FIVE
     
    Malcolm Reyner was an eighteen-year-old orphan whom Franklin Grimshaw and his family had taken in last summer, initially at my request. They treated him well. In May, he had gotten his GED, and now he was working as a short-order cook at one of the local restaurants. Sometimes he worked for me , too, helping me with a few of my cases, doing jobs that I needed a younger, more active person for.
    Jimmy was happy to leave his gin game to go to the Grimshaws’ house. As I suspected, he had been playing for money, but he was losing for once. One of the older neighbor boys who usually didn’t play was taking Jimmy for all he was worth.
    It was easy to get Jimmy to talk about his conquests on the way to the Grimshaw house. He was proud of his card-playing ability. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I did know, however, that by the end of summer I would have to find a