Crossing Into the Empire

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Mulreany is still asleep when the Empire makes its mid-year reappearance, a bit ahead of schedule. It was due to show up in Chicago on the afternoon of June 24, somewhere between five and six o’clock, and here it is only eight goddamned o’clock in the morning on the 23rd and the phone is squalling and it’s Anderson on the line to say, “Well, I can’t exactly tell you why, boss, but it’s back here already, over on the Near West Side. The eastern border runs along Blue Island Avenue, and up as far north as the Eisenhower Expressway, practically. Duplessis says that this time it’s going to be a 52-hour visitation, plus or minus 90 minutes.”

Dazzling summer sunlight floods Mulreany’s bedroom, high up above the lake. He hates being awake at this hour. Blinking, grimacing, he says, “If Duplessis missed the time of arrival by a day and a half, how the hell can he be so sure about the visitation length? Sometimes I think Duplessis is full of shit. —Which Empire is it, anyway? What are the towers in the Forum like?”

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