A Carnival of Killing by Glenn Ickler Page B

and went to meet Esperanza.
    As usual on a cold winter day, the downtown sidewalks were almost devoid of traffic, but two stories above them the skyway was swarming with pedestrians. St. Paul claims that its complex of glassed-in bridges, which lace together forty-seven city blocks, forms the biggest skyway system in the world. Residents of the condos on Wacouta Street at the eastern end can walk indoors all the way to St. Peter Street eight blocks away on the west, and to Seventh Street on the north and Kellogg Boulevard on the south. The system has grown so complex that directional signs have been posted to keep people from getting lost in the maze.
    Esperanza and I arrived simultaneously at the coffee shop. She looked smashing in a burgundy jacket, white blouse, and black skirt. Or maybe the skirt was navy blue. I was never sure unless the colors were side by side. Her hair, which I was positive was black and not blue, flowed in waves down to her shoulders, setting off the olive tone of her complexion. We each ordered a medium black coffee and a chocolate doughnut.
    “My worst weakness,” she said, holding up the doughnut. “Without these I’d be ten pounds lighter.”
    I smiled and took a sip of coffee. “Chocolate is one of the government’s basic food groups, isn’t it?”
    “It is for me,” she said. “But you didn’t ask to meet me just to talk about calories. What can I do for you?”
    I immediately thought of something that Martha wouldn’t approve of, but I didn’t have time for flirting. “I’m wondering if you have any idea at all who the father of Lee-Ann’s baby might be.”
    She took a swallow of coffee before she answered. “I’ve already told the police that I don’t.”
    “I know that, but I’m asking you to think really hard about anything Lee-Ann might have said about the guy.” I took a bite of doughnut and she did the same. We chewed in unison while I waited for a reply.
    “She was really close-mouthed about her love life,” Esperanza said after washing down the doughnut morsel with another sip of coffee. “I’m pretty sure the guy was married. I think she met him last year when she was the reigning Klondike Kate and he was with the Vulcans.”
    “You mean he was in last year’s Vulcan Krewe?”
    “I think so.” She took another bite, a big one.
    “So there’s eight more possible suspects,” I said. “But at least their names are available in our files. Do you know anything else about him?”
    She swallowed more coffee. “Don’t tell the cops this, but apparently the guy thinks Toni and I know who he is.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “We both got phone calls from someone obviously using a phony voice right after Lee-Ann’s pregnancy hit the news. He must be afraid that Lee-Ann had told us who she was seeing because he warned both of us that anybody who gave any names to the police would be the next dead Klondike Kate.”
    I had just taken a mouthful of coffee and it went down the wrong way. After choking and coughing for a couple of minutes, I managed to croak, “Did you tell Brownie about that?”
    “Who?”
    “Detective Brown, the homicide chief. Did you tell him about the threat?”
    “Toni was afraid to, and she made me promise not to. You’re not going to put that in the paper, are you?”
    “No, I’m not. But it’s helpful to know these things. Tell me something else. Do you know who told the police that they saw Lee-Ann going out the backdoor of O’Halloran’s with a man in a Vulcan costume?”
    “No. Somebody saw that?”
    “That’s what I’ve been told, but it’s strictly hush-hush until the carnival’s over.” I took the last bite of doughnut and a sip of coffee. “Thanks for talking to me. You may have helped me move one step closer to finding the father.”
    Esperanza still had almost half of her doughnut in her hand. “You won’t put either Toni’s or my names in the paper if you find him will you?”
    “Absolutely