Watch Your Back
Page 19
Tommy climbs into the front seat. Eddie whistles. “What door did you run into?”
“Chalkie. I didn’t get a bet in on time.”
“Sounds a bit extreme. Even for Chalkie.”
Tommy shrugs. He’s not going to tell Eddie anything more. “Can you drop me at the corner of my street? I don’t want my mother to see your car.” I’m going to be in enough trouble.
* * * *
He tries to come in quietly. The plan is to sneak upstairs and pretend he has been sleeping.
“Tommy, what happened to you?” Maggie, worried about where Tommy was, has heard the door open and close.
Oh, oh. Here it comes. Think. Think. “I walked into a door. At Jimmy’s house. We were goofing around and wham.”
Maggie looks him in the eye. Tommy stares at his shoes. What is it about mothers? They always know.
“Are you sure that’s what happened? Have you been fighting?”
“No. Just goofing around like I told you. Everything’s okay. Jimmy’s mother put some ice on it.”
“I’ll call round and thank her tomorrow.”
“No. Don’t do that. She won’t be home. She’s, ah, going away to visit somebody for a few days.”
“What?”
“Yeah, that’s right. And I don’t know when she’s going to be back. I’ll thank her again the next time I’m over there.”
Maggie gives him a searching look. “Okay. I guess that will be okay. How about I send over some baking to Jimmy’s house? With his mother gone, I’m sure it would be appreciated.”
“Yeah, I can take it over there tomorrow. Or the next day. Whatever.”
When Dick Beamish sees Tommy’s shiner, he whistles. After supper, he pulls him aside out of Maggie’s earshot. “You talk to your mother about this?”
“I ran into a door. And yes, I told her about last time.”
“I don’t think you’re cut out for this kind of work, kid. Maybe you should think about starting up that paper route again.”
Maggie walks into the conversation. “Are you sure you’re up for the paper route, Tommy?”
He looks from his mother to Mr. Beamish. Trapped. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll go down to the paper and talk to them tomorrow.”
“I thought you were going over to Jimmy’s tomorrow? I’ll have a pie ready for you to take after school.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Jimmy’s. I’ll go down to the paper on Friday.”
“I know they’ll be glad to have you back, kid. I’ll let them know you’ll be coming so that they can get you worked into the schedule. Reliable paper boys are gold.”
Maggie looks at Tommy with concern. “Are you okay with going down to Center City? How about Mr. Beamish lets them know that you can start Saturday? Then you can pick your papers up at the usual drop off place instead of going downtown.”
“That would be swell. Thanks Mr. Beamish. Tell them I’ll do Jimmy’s as well.”
“What? Isn’t Jimmy doing his route anymore?” Maggie asks.
“Ah, no. He got a job somewhere else so I took it over ‘cause it’s next to mine. So you think that I’ll need to start Saturday?”
“I now they’re short. You got plans for Saturday?” Dick asks, a questioning look in his eye.
Tommy calculates how he can fit in both paper routes and Chalkie’s. “No problem. I’ll get it done first thing in the morning. Thanks, Mr. Beamish.”
I hope we don’t have much homework this weekend. Maybe Jimmy can help with the paper route to make up for the couple of betting runs I did for him. That jerk, he owes me big-time, for Schmidt and for Chalkie. And that goon of his, too. Tommy puts a cool hand against his swollen eye and winces. Yeah, big time.
* * * *
Mickey walks into the back room at Chalkie’s, past the line of bettors, behind the counter of bookies, and over to the man himself. Hardly breaking stride, he snarls, “Chalkie, I wanna’ see ya in my office.” Mickey walks past Chalkie and heads out the metal door to the alley.
Chalkie follows, and Eddie stands with his back to the door, surveying the room. The people in the room look away, suddenly very busy.
In the alley, Mickey slips off his jacket and starts rolling up his sleeves. “I understand you have an issue with a friend of mine. Tom Barnes. You know him?”
Chalkie’s looking up and down the alley. “Tom? No, I don’t think so. No wait, you mean that kid Tommy?”
“Yeah. That kid. Eddie says you gave him a black eye and a fat lip. Bit rough on a kid, weren’t ya?”
“He took a slip outta the bag, Mickey. That’s the same as stealing from ya. And then, when I sent him back the second time, he made sure he was late so the bet didn’t count. You don’t know what it’s like working with these kids. Ya gotta keep ‘em in line or they’ll steal ya blind.”
“Are you callin’ my friend a thief, Chalkie?” Mickey is standing with his face inches from Chalkie’s. Chalkie looks left, right, anywhere but at Mickey.
“Nah, I’m sure there’s a good reason. That Schmidt. He’s trouble. Into us for some serious dough. Got laid off from his work a while back and only pays us from his winnings now. Which ain’t a lot.”
Mickey steps back and drives his fist into Chalkie’s gut. He doubles over, groaning. As he’s bends down, an upper cut slams his head up and back against the wall. Mickey steps back a bit further and starts rolling down his sleeves.
“What ya gotta understand about me, Chalkie, is that I’m loyal to a fault. Any friend of mine should be a friend of yours. Don’t forget that. Now, get me the address for Schmidt.”
* * * *
When Adolph Schmidt opens the door, Eddie grabs his arms and yanks him toward the stairs. Mickey shuts the door on the wide eyes of the Schmidt brood. On the landing below the Schmidt’s floor, Eddie stops, turns, and sweeps the legs out from under Adolph. As he’s lying there on the floor, Eddie puts one foot on his wrist and then stomps hard on his hand. Bones crunch and Adolph screams.
“You have a month to pay up, Schmidt. And we don’t take bets from you no more until you do. Understand?” Eddie raises his foot above Adolph’s knee.
Moaning, clutching his broken hand to his chest, Adolph rolls into a tight ball, his back to the wall.
“Understand?” Eddie says again.
Adolph nods.
Mickey slaps Eddie on the back. “Good work. Let’s get out of here. All this stink is making me lose my appetite, and Edith and I have dinner plans.”
Chapter 44
M aggie’s putting the laundry away when she hears the front doorbell. Standing on her veranda is the young fellow from her father’s office.
Ray? Ron? “Hello. Please come in.”
“I don’t think we were properly introduced the other day, Mrs. Barnes. I’m Ron McNeely. I clerk for your father,” he says, tipping his hat.
“Of course, Mr. McNeely. I remember.” Maggie’s shaking his hand. I don’t remember him being quite so tall, and, um, broad-shouldered.
“He asked that I drop off some documents for you to look at. I hope I’m not intruding?”
“No. Would you like to come in for some coffee? I think I have some pie left over from last night as well, if you’re hungry.”
“I won’t say no to homemade pie. Being a bachelor and all.”
An interesting piece of information. “Just find a spot in the living room. I’ll bring it in.”
Maggie pushes the door open with her hip, and carries in the tray. Ron is sitting on the couch, and Frank is in his usual chair. He thinks I need a chaperone? “Here we go. Coffee and apple pie.”
Ron jumps up and helps her with the tray, then settles with his coffee and pie. “Delicious, Mrs. Barnes.”
“Maggie, please. Have you worked for my father long?”
“About a year. I’d just graduated from Drexel, and my father thought it would be good to get some experience in another office before joining the family firm.”
“Oh, your father is an accountant, too?�
�
“Yes. And my grandfather. And my uncle. And my older brother. It’s the family business. Delaware Financial Services. They do investments, accounting, and probably a bit of corporate legal work when my younger brother takes the bar.”
“It sounds like quite the business.”
“It’s big all right. But I’ve got to admit that I like working in a small firm, like your father’s. You know all the clients and can work with them closely.”
“And what’s it like? Working at my father’s firm, I mean. I’m sure you’re aware that I might be joining it.”
Ron nods. “I made up the documents for your signature. Your father is a fine man to work with. Our clients are loyal, and great to deal with.”
Maggie glances at the Inspector. Our? She gives Ron a cool smile. “That’s good to hear. I think I mentioned when we first met that I am an accountant as well. I’d be bringing my own clients with me. I’m used to doing things on my own, so I don’t think that I’d be imposing on too much of your time, Mr. McNeely.”
“We’ve a busy practice, Mrs. Barnes, but we can always fit in more clients. With it being a family business, I’m sure your father won’t expect you to be nose-to-the-grindstone, tied to the desk and all. You have responsibilities at home, I understand.”
“Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I fully expect to pull my own weight, Mr. McNeely.” Maggie grips the handle of her coffee cup, knuckles white. What gives him the right to imply that I’ll not contribute 110%? Just because he has more credentials? I’ve business courses and loads more experience than this pup. Or maybe it’s because I’m a woman. We’ll have to nip that in the bud right away. I’ll not work in an office where I’m not respected.
“Of course, Mrs. Barnes. Although it will be unusual to have a woman in the office.”
“Well, my clients won’t find it unusual. And I’m sure that Father’s clients will come to accept it as well.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. Your father wouldn’t be bringing you into the firm unless he was confident you could do the job.” Ron puts down his empty plate. The fork rattles against the china.
Maggie puts down her coffee and her eyes take on a dangerous glint. “I know he’s confident in my experience, but did I mention I was top of my class? Drexel is such a demanding program. But then, you’d know that, being an alumnus, Mr. McNeely. You only recently graduated, I believe.”
“Yes. At the top of my class, as well.”
The two face off. Credentials and experience thrown down like gauntlets.
Ron pulls documents out of his briefcase. “Look, I should let you check over these papers. Your father said to tell you to just drop by the office, or call him if you have any questions.”
“Thank you for dropping them by. You can let him know that I’ll get back to him in the next few days.”
Ron gathers his briefcase, while Maggie hands him his coat and hat. They stand awkwardly in the front hall.
“Yes, I’ll do that, Mrs. Barnes. And welcome to the firm.”
“Thank you, Mr. McNeely. I look forward to it,” Maggie says, holding open the door.
She shuts it firmly on Ron’s exit. “The nerve, Inspector. You see what I mean about what it will be like to work with Father?”
“I only see that the decision seems to have been made, my dear. Although, if I may say so, I also see that your Mr. McNeely is a fine looking man. One of the added benefits of working with your father, I should think.”
“What do you mean, Inspector? He’s a pompous ass. I’ve seen his type before. Doesn’t think a woman can do the job. And what’s this about ‘our’ clients? They’re Father’s clients. He’s just a clerk.” Maggie stomps back into the living room to gather up the dirty dishes.
“I meant that it will be nice for you to have access to a clerk. To help you with the work.”
Maggie whirls around, hands on hips, ready to fight. “So, you think I need help, too? What is it with you men? I’m perfectly capable of handling my work on my own. Like I always have. My clients are very satisfied with my performance.”
Frank holds up his hands in surrender. “Of course they are. I was merely… ”
“Putting your foot in it, Inspector? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll put these in the kitchen and then review these documents. We can talk about it further, tonight, at Report.”
“I take it as that’s my cue to leave,” Franks says.
“Men,” Maggie mutters, pushing open the door to the kitchen with her hip. “I’ll show that Mr. McNeely a thing or two.”
* * * *
Later, dinner done and kitchen tidy, Maggie and Frank are in their customary spots in the living room.
“Is it a good offer?” Frank asks, lighting his cigar. He watches Maggie out of the corner of his eye as he puts out the match. Her ruffled feathers appear to have settled.
“A very good offer, Inspector. I spent the afternoon reviewing it. I get to retain my existing clients and, of course, there will be new ones. I won’t have to worry about putting ads in the newspaper or knocking on businesses’ doors anymore. My father will get an overhead percentage of my billings. I’ll be paid on a monthly retainer, and I guess Ron will be the one to send billings out, and collect. It’s very thorough. He mentions clerical support, which is Ron again. I’ll get an office. He even has a clause about office supplies. That’s Father all right, so detailed. I’m going to propose that I work in the office only two days a week and bring work home the rest of the time. That way I can look after Tommy and the lodgers.”
”Do you think he’ll go for something like that?”
“No, not really. Maybe I should work three days instead of two. If I am going to take on new clients, I don’t want to look like I’m not taking the job seriously. They might not think a woman is committed if I’m not chained to my desk. Do you think I could manage everything around here on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”
“I don’t see why not. Meals would be the biggest challenge, but you can figure it out.”
“Good home cooking has been one of the things I’m proud about. I don’t want to let that slide.”
“Maggie, you must be thrilled. This sounds like an excellent opportunity.”
“I’m not sure how I feel. I’ve been at war with my father for so long, it’s strange to think we’ll be working together. The reconciliation is important to him. Especially now. I do like the idea of an income, and the prestige of being part of a firm. Not many women have that kind of opportunity.”
“And you will get to see young Mr. McNeely regularly.”
“Yes. However, despite that disadvantage, I think I’ll accept Father’s offer.”
“Excellent, my dear. Rarely is the right thing to do an easy decision. But I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
Maggie gives Frank a very satisfied smile. “I might not, but we’ll see if Mr. McNeely does.”
Chapter 45
T ommy walks into Chalkie’s Saturday afternoon after finishing his paper route. He’s going to be getting lots of exercise with the two jobs he has now.
Chalkie is sitting at his desk in the corner and doesn’t get up when Tommy comes in. “Barnes. Mickey wants to see ya. You’re supposed to go over to the Ritz Hotel and see him there.”
At the Ritz, Gus and Fingers watch Tommy come down the hall. They’ve not met the Barnes boy, but figure there can’t be that many kids coming to call on Philly’s Bootlegger King.
“What you want, kid?”
“I’m Tommy… Tom Barnes, and Mr. Duffy’s wanting to talk to me.”
“Yup. He is. Come on in.” Fingers stands and leads Tommy into the suite.
Tommy gawks. There are girls, some scantily dressed. There are guns. Everybody has a gun in a shoulder holster, sometimes two. There’s the view. So high up. He stares at the girls again. One winks. Wow.
“Tom. Over here.” Mickey, sitting at the head of the table, waves him over. “You guys want to give us a minute?”
The fell
as from around the table all get up and make themselves busy elsewhere. “Tom. Have a seat.”
“I was talking with Chalkie. It seems we have a problem.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Duffy. I meant to get there on time, but I stopped to buy some apples for the Schmidt’s kids. They looked so hungry the last time I was there. It made me late. I didn’t mean to miss the race.”