“Well, well. Morelli. We meet again. You keep turning up, like a bad penny.”
“O’Neill. Mrs. Hart.” Morelli looked from the Bull to Mrs. Hart and Rutledge. “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.”
“Gladys, what are you doing here?”
“Mr. O’Neill came to see me, asking about you. It seems that he wants to talk to both of us.”
“I wish you’d let me know you were coming. I’m in the middle of a business transaction at the moment. Or at least I was.” Hart tried to regain control over the situation. “How about everyone have a seat and we can discuss this like civilized people? Gladys, please?” He held a chair for her. She grudgingly sat down.
“O’Neill? Morelli?” He indicated two more chairs. He ignored Rutledge.
“I think I’m fine right here.” O’Neill remained standing by the door. Morelli moved to stand closer to Maggie. He wanted to get her out of there as soon as possible, before something terrible happened. Hart shrugged and leaned back against his desk.
“I’m here for my money, Hart. The dough you promised me.” O’Neill waved a hand at Gladys. “I brought her along so I could ask her for it, if you didn’t have what I want. You don’t want me to do that, do you?”
“I’m working on it. Can’t you give me another day or two?”
“Nope. Today’s the magic day. First in line gets the pick of the plums, so they say.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, O’Neill.”
“I can explain it to you, Mr. Hart.” Morelli needed to do something to unbalance this situation even more. He also needed time to figure out how he could get the women to safety.
“Bull here wants to buy his way up the ladder at Police HQ. Am I right?” He looked at Bull, who just smirked. “Maybe he thinks he can buy his way into the top spot, as soon as Enright is gone. You see, with the mayor incapacitated for more than thirty days, the acting mayor comes into certain powers. Like appointing a new police commissioner.”
“That makes no sense, Mr. Morelli.” Hart protested. “He’s not qualified for such a job.”
A shadow passed over O’Neill’s brow and Morelli knew he had hit his mark.
“What makes you so sure, Hart? Like you’re more qualified than me.”
O’Neill looked like he wanted to take a swing at Hart. Morelli pushed a little more.
“I don’t think it’s a matter of qualifications, Mr. Hart. Just money.”
O’Neill reached into his coat and pulled out his service revolver. “Doesn’t matter, Hart. Just give me my money and I’ll go.”
Maggie yelped and Gladys looked from her husband to O’Neill, confusion on her face.
“What about the information you promised, Mr. O’Neill?”
Hart looked more closely at his wife. “Gladys, what are you talking about?”
“I was brought here by Mr. O’Neill because he says he has some information about Angel.”
“About Angel?” Hart gulped.
“Yes. And he has some questions for you.”
Hart looked hard at O’Neill. “What sort of questions?”
“Oh, that can wait, Hart. You said you have business to conclude. Something important with this dishy redhead maybe?” O’Neill walked over and ran a hand over Maggie’s shoulder. “Keeping her around for some fun, are you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I think it might be my business, Aaron.” Gladys stood. She glared first at Aaron and then at Maggie. O’Neill laughed.
“It’s not what you think, Gladys.” Hart put his hands up as if to fend her off. “We can discuss this at home, in private. I can assure you that everything is all right and you have nothing to be concerned about.”
“I’m not nothing. You can’t treat me like that.” Maggie struggled to her feet; Sean held her arm, trying to pull her back down.
“Maggie, sit down. Don’t do this.”
She shook him off and stood up straight.
“I’m going to have your baby.”
“My baby?” The look of shock on Hart’s face was genuine. This was something he hadn’t known. He moved to go to her when Gladys slapped him across the face.
“How dare you?”
She tried to slap him again, but he grabbed her wrist before she could. She twisted to look at Maggie.
“And you, you little tramp, trying to steal my husband? Well, you won’t get away with it.” Gladys struggled in Aaron’s grip.
“Let me go.”
“It can’t be… you can’t be… pregnant.”
Hart looked at Maggie, letting go of Gladys’ arm. Maggie glared daggers at him, her hands protectively covering her belly. Morelli moved closer to stand between Maggie and O’Neill, while everyone’s attention was on the Harts. He was looking for the moment when he could grab Maggie and pull her out of harm’s way.
Gladys was furious. “And you, Aaron! Do you just go around making every girl you find pregnant?”
“What are you talking about, Gladys?” He turned back to his wife, whose face twisted in pain.
“Angel, my Angel. You had to make her pregnant, too. You had to ruin all our lives at once.”
Hart stepped back, aghast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gladys. I never touched Angel.”
“That’s not what she told me, before… I went to see her on Saturday night. She called and said that she needed to tell me important things. She told me not to worry about the redhead because you two were having a baby and that you were leaving me to marry her. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“That’s not true, Gladys. Why would I do that? I love you.”
“No, you don’t, Aaron; you only love my money. And when I wouldn’t give it to you, you went to her. She told me that, too.”
“She didn’t give me any money.” Hart’s laugh was bitter. “Angel said I should get it from you.”
“She said she loved you; she called me a dried-up old woman and said that you were just using me. I couldn’t let her say those things. I couldn’t let her take you away from me. I couldn’t stand it. I, I… was so angry.”
“Did you kill her, Gladys?” Hart backed away in horror.
“You made me,” Gladys screamed and lunged at Aaron, reaching into his pocket for the revolver. He gripped her wrists as she struggled to pull the gun free. Suddenly there was shouting from all sides.
Morelli shoved O’Neill from behind and grabbed Maggie, pulling her down to the floor. Two shots rang out, one immediately after another. He dragged Maggie toward the door leading to the club and Sean crawled after them.
“Get her out of here,” he said, pushing them both through and closing the door after them.
Morelli turned to survey the situation. Rutledge was sitting on the floor, holding Gladys Hart, who’d fainted. Bull O’Neill lay on the floor groaning, a bullet hole through his shoulder. Aaron Hart lay bleeding in front of his desk. Morelli crouched over him. He’d been hit in the chest by O’Neill’s shot, while his gun had gone off in the struggle with Gladys and found its mark in O’Neill.
“I wouldn’t hurt them.” Aaron’s voice was barely a whisper and Morelli leaned closer. “I loved them… all.”
Morelli pressed his handkerchief into Hart’s chest in an effort to staunch the bleeding, but it was too late. Hart was dead.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Speakeasy
The following Monday
Flarrity and Morelli collected their drinks from Hank and sat at a table in the back. Charleston looked on from his chair by the door. For once, he didn’t look too worried.
“So, we need to fill in a few blanks. There are things you know and things I know and they seem to be connected.” Flarrity took a sip of his whiskey and set the glass aside. He’d never been much of a drinker. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Hart and that redhead?”
Morelli knew this was coming. He’d managed to keep Maggie out of all of this until the showdown in the Golden Ruby. She a
nd Sean had disappeared in the confusion. But there were still some loose ends to be tied.
“Angel Eldridge came to me last week, pretending to be Gladys Hart. Said she wanted me to look into her husband and a redhead named Maggie McElwaine. She said she thought they were having an affair.”
“Mickey’s sister. And they were having an affair.”
“Yes. He had been keeping her in an apartment while Mickey was in jail, but it came apart after he got out. She tried to leave him, which really made him angry. Anyway, I followed both Hart and Maggie, like she asked, not yet wised up to the fact that she wasn’t the wife, but the daughter.”
“How did you find out?”
“I went to the News office morgue; I have a friend who works there.” Morelli thought he was safe calling Sally a friend now, after all that they’d been through.
“I read up on the family and discovered that I was hired by the daughter. When I was following Hart, I discovered that he had quite a nasty temper, and when Angel turned up dead, I figured he’d done it.”
“So, you decided to solve the case on your own.” Flarrity’s tone was wry and sarcastic, but he was smiling. The case was solved, so it didn’t really matter how it had happened.
“Yeah, I wanted to know who killed the kid. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt her.”
The two men sat in silence; Morelli was thinking back to the day Angel came to his office, golden and vivacious, smelling of vanilla. When he looked at Flarrity, he could tell the man had his own guilt written on his face.
“There was a lot of money floating around. Enough to make anyone do something stupid.”
“I guess it was. It got Mickey killed.” Morelli sipped his drink. “Tell me about that.”
“We rounded up the staff at the Golden Ruby, including Hart’s bartender, Marty, who admitted that Mickey had been shot during the robbery.” Flarrity said. “O’Neill, who was in on the whole thing, was the one who dumped the body in your office to pin it on you and then called me to the scene. He sold me a pretty good bill of goods on you.”
“I’m glad you finally took Danny’s word that I was with him.”
“Yeah, Petucci convinced me, so I had something on the Bull.
“What was the whole business with the Bull?”
“I didn’t realize until too late that the Bull was deep in the pocket of George Murray Hulbert, the acting mayor.”
“And former docks commissioner.”
“Yes, and that was where the trouble started. Hulbert and some of his cronies cooked up a scheme to import cocaine along with whiskey. There were a few rumrunners involved, too. They allowed themselves to be caught by the cops, who made sure that the booze got to their protected speaks.”
“So, the cops became the delivery guys.”
“Yup. And the cocaine came in with the whiskey. It would get passed along to the dock men and then sold on the street, lining Hulbert’s pockets in the process. But what was Hulbert planning to do while he was mayor? I don’t understand how that fits in,” Flarrity said.
“My newspaper connection figured that one out,” Morelli said. “Apparently, that was an opportunity that he couldn’t pass up. There was a little-known feature in the city charter that allows the acting mayor to hire and fire while he’s on the job. And when the elected mayor came back, he had the ability to undo any of those appointments, with one important exception.”
“What was that?”
“If Hulbert fired the police commissioner, he could not be reinstated when Hylan returned.”
“And Hulbert had a long-standing beef with Enright. This was his chance to take him out.”
“Exactly. And when you bring this to the police commissioner’s attention, I think we’ll see the mayor back in town pretty damn quick. But I still don’t know what Bull was trying to achieve?” Morelli asked. “Did he really think he’d be named police commissioner?”
“Apparently he did. That would have been a disaster.”
“I agree.” Morelli toyed with his drink. “So what happens now?”
“That depends on the prosecutor’s office, but we have Gladys Hart for the murder of her daughter. She went to the apartment because Angel wanted to talk about Aaron and the affair with the redhead. Maggie must have given her the idea to say that she was pregnant with Hart’s child, which just sent Gladys around the bend. Since it happened during an argument, the best we’d be able to do is prove manslaughter. They may decide not to risk the backlash of prosecution.”
“I never suspected that she was capable of that.” Morelli sighed. “And now she has to live with what she’s done. She lost both her daughter and her husband.”
“And quite a bit of money from that robbery.”
“They never recovered it?” Morelli asked, trying to keep his face neutral.
“You know we never found either Maggie and Sean, or the money and the cocaine. I’m sure they are long gone by now. Gladys will just have to take it up with her investors.” Flarrity continued, “The Bull is off the force, although he can still cause plenty of trouble once he gets out of the hospital. You should watch your back.”
“You should, too, Flarrity. You’re the one who got him kicked off the force. I just got him shot,” Morelli said with a grin. It didn’t worry him too much that the Bull was going to be out on the street, but perhaps it should. Morelli still had friends on the force, like Danny and Flarrity. And friends around town like Charleston and Otten. And Sally. He would be all right.
The End
Acknowledgments
This book has been through many versions in the past fifteen years. Jim Sands wrote the original draft and came to me in 2004 to help him make it better. We rewrote it fairly significantly, but before we finished, he passed away. Many friends and family encouraged me to continue with it after Jim died, too many to name. However, a few stand out; my writing partner and friend, Heather Haven, has been the biggest help as reader, sounding board and publisher. Paula Grundy was my excellent proofreader. Jill Braden knew Jim and has been a supporter for the whole journey. She has waited patiently for the final product and was my first beta reader. I also want to thank my husband, Neal, and my kids, Caitlin and Frankie, for their support.
The original inspiration for this novel came from two articles published in the New York Times: “Rum Runner Seized with $250,000 Load.” The New York Times. Aug 17, 1924 and “Hold-Up Men Murder Two Bank Runners; Escape with $43,607.” The New York Times, Nov 15, 1923.“ Additional inspiration came from three more articles in the New York Times: “Hulbert Pledges Fealty to Hylan at His Bedside.” The New York Times. Sept. 24, 1923. “Hulbert Becomes Real Mayor Of New York, Empowered to Appoint or Remove Employes.” The New York Times. Sept. 23, 1923. “Enright Calls on Hylan.” The New York Times. Sept. 30, 1923
About Baird Nuckolls
Baird Nuckolls has had a multifaceted career, from banking to baking. Most recently, she has been working as a writer and editor. She has been a partner and editor for The Wives of Bath Press, as well as an assistant editor for Narrative Magazine. She has published several short stories, as well as a middle grade novel, “The Dragons of Graham.” She lives in Seattle and Orcas Island, WA with her husband.
https://baird.nuckolls.com
About James R. Sands
James R. Sands was a writer and a gentleman. Born in Florida, he was living in Long Beach, CA with his wife at the time of his death in 2005.
The Wives of Bath Press
The Wife of Bath was a woman of a certain age, with opinions, on a journey. Heather Haven and Baird Nuckolls are modern-day Wives of Bath.
The Wives of Bath Press
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