Vinny McCabe's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

Vinny spent the next two days searching for Rourke. He checked the union hall records, asked at three other demolition yards, and showed up at two bars where foremen used to drink after work. No one had seen him in months. No one had a current address. On the third day, he drove back to the rail district and walked the blocks near the Barlow yard until he found the old freight office. The building sat behind a chain-link fence, its wood siding weathered gray and patched with newer boards that didn't match. Through the dirty windows he could see a single overhead light and shapes moving inside. He waited across the street until evening, then crossed when the door opened and two men stepped out. Inside, three others sat at a table playing cards. Red chips sat in small stacks between them. One looked up when Vinny entered, then went back to his hand. Vinny asked if anyone knew where Rourke was. The man closest to the door said Rourke hadn't been around since spring. Another said he'd heard Rourke took a contract job out west but didn't know where. Vinny asked if Rourke kept any records here, anything with addresses or contacts. The first man gestured toward a metal cabinet against the wall. Vinny opened it and found invoices, time sheets, and a worn ledger with penciled entries. Most were freight logs and shift notes. On the back page, someone had written a series of dates with dollar amounts next to them. No names. Just numbers and the same initials repeated: R.M. Vinny recognized two of the dates. One matched the week of the townhouse demolition. The other matched the week his wife died. The amounts were identical, paid in cash according to the notes scrawled in the margin. He pulled the ledger from the cabinet and turned to the men at the table. He asked if R.M. stood for Rourke. The man with the cards said it did, and that Rourke used to handle off-book payments for people who didn't want their names on permits. Vinny asked who paid him. The man shrugged and said Rourke never told anyone, but the money always came through the same route—delivered here, to this office, in sealed envelopes. Vinny closed the ledger and walked out. He had the pattern now, the proof that Rourke was the network's middleman. What he didn't have was Rourke himself.