Dramatization of Mayor Paley Returns Early

Simon left Friday at the crack of dawn. The city employees came to work with masks of contempt. I called the press and told them all about Donna Bumpers, her visit and her threats. They listened politely, but I got the impression that nobody was going to follow up on it—at least while I was still alive. I was old news, but my murder could mean a Pulitzer.

A call from Ellen came at nine in the morning and it was disturbing. Samantha was called in to temp and the GRAC members would not be leaving Chicago until five that evening. The thought of City Hall closing for the weekend, leaving me alone in the darkness, for at least two hours, was unnerving. I was determined to see it through.

Luckily, I would never see the knife of Orville Jolly. At noon, Mayor Manny Singer walked through the door, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other, looking frazzled and shaking his head.

"You're back early," I said smiling, certain that the outcome would not involve cement overshoes and the bottom of some lake.

"I'll be back in a few minutes,” said the Mayor. “We’ve got to talk."

He was gone for almost half an hour before he returned to the foyer minus his coat and luggage. "Dave, Dave, Dave,” he said, “What am I going to do with you?"

"Who was the second cop?” I shot out. “Why the cover-up?"

"I'm a little disappointed. I seriously believed the information delivered by Alderman Sandberg was what you really wanted. For Pete's sake, you’ve got the civil rights bill, the Picardy cover-up is out in the open, two men are hospitalized in serious condition, and yesterday we had over fifteen calls in city hall threatening vigilante action. The whole city not only wants your head, they want my head for letting it go on this long. I had to cut short the mayors' conference. You won. Go home a victor before something horrible happens."

“The second cop…”

“Damn the second cop,” said Manny. “From what I understand, he kept Floyd Picardy from going even further.”

I reeled from the Mayor’s words. The second cop seemed nervous when Officer Butch Picardy appeared ready to get physical with Winston and me. We both figured at the time that if both cops were on the same page, we would be dead. But this was never mentioned in any press release. “Very possibly” I said, amazed. “I’m surprised you knew that.”

“You’d be surprised what I know…Damn it, Dave, how many more careers do you want to ruin?”

“Like yours?” I asked, rhetorically.

Singer laughed wryly. “That ship has already sailed.”

"I've been thinking about the cover-up," I said determinedly. "That everybody loves dear old Wayne Picardy just doesn't fly. I'm sure it played a role, but the States Attorney was a Democrat and Wayne Picardy’s a Republican. Why would he violate his oath of office to help out a nice guy in the other party? It doesn't make sense, unless there was a deal. There had to be a deal."

The mayor ignored my words. "Do your parents know that you’re here in the city building?"

"They have a vague idea…You know, I've had a lot of time to sit here and think. You’re the first Democratic Mayor of Urbana since the Depression. Who did the Republicans put up against you? Ethel Doughty, an old woman. She was as nervous campaigning as I was. And when I entered the race, just on the off chance I might siphon off a few too many of your votes, Orville Barber jumped in to siphon off some of hers. That race was handed to you on a silver platter. Coincidence? You tell me."

Manny was agitated. "That's complete nonsense,” he said, as though he himself were confused. “Let me have your parents’ phone number."

I gave it to him and he wrote it down on a small pad of paper, fished in his pocket for a handful of coins and started to dial the number from the lobby pay phone.

"What's your father's name?" asked the Mayor.

"Bart."

He continued to dial, then in response to a prompt, put several coins in the slot. Manny glanced over at me, bit his lip and squirmed. The phone rang. "Bart Rosen, please." The mayor held the receiver in the open air, so that I could hear my father’s words.

"Speaking," said the voice at the other end.

"This is Manny Singer, Mayor of Urbana, Illinois. How are you doing Mr. Rosen?"

"Fine, fine," said Bart. He sounded somewhat nonplussed and there was a trace of nervousness in his tone. "What does this concern?"

"You’re the father of Dave Rosen?"

"What did he do this time?" said Bart, in a loud voice. I figured that’s what he would say.

"He's sitting here in the lobby of our city building and he’s been here for the past seventeen days. I was wondering if you could talk with him and try and get him to leave."

"Listen, Mr. Mayor. It's been a long time since I had any influence on whatever stupid thing he does. He's an adult now. There is nothing I can say."

"Can't you try?"

"Just last month we thought he was getting his life back on track, going to the university out here. Then for no reason, he just leaves. He said he needed to go to Urbana. I'm afraid there is nothing I can say."

Manny hesitated for a moment, and then exhaled loudly. "Well, thanks, anyway."

"Goodbye Mr. Mayor." Manny hung up the phone and looked dejected.

"I could have told you it would be a waste of money. They're in another world. They haven't seen what I’ve seen... About my cover-up theory…" Manny quickly escaped into City Hall.