Watch Your Back

by Sherilyn Decter

  Maggie slides her chair over to make room for Frank. “See here, the opening balance in the 1925 ledger under Inventory is $2,200. There were purchases of $1,200, less cost of goods sold of $200, which should work out to $3,200. Following me?”

  Frank shakes his head. “What is cost of goods sold?”

  “Basically, it’s how much the business paid for the liquor. What we are trying to do is determine the profit.”

  “I understand now. But the final number there is $2,300.”

  “Exactly. The numbers have been transposed. Instead of writing down $3,200, the accountant entered $2,300. And it’s happened here,” Maggie points to a different column, and the turns the page, “and here,” and turning the page again, “and here. In the most recent ledger I have for 1928, it’s happening on almost every page. Maybe it started out as an innocent mistake. But now, it’s a profitable scheme.”

  “Is it in both sets of books?” Frank asks.

  “Yes. The public records are accurate—as far as it goes. Everything totals, even if it doesn’t add up.” Maggie smiles at her quip. “The public ledgers understate Mickey’s income by two thirds. He’s paying taxes on only a third of what he’s earning.”

  “Is it an error to reduce profits, or embezzle cash?”

  “I wouldn’t call it an error. It’s very deliberate. And as I said before, very profitable. The delicious irony is that Mickey is paying less taxes because his bookkeeper is stealing from him.” Maggie pats the top of the stack of papers affectionately. “The other important thing you have to remember is that there is never just one wrong number. If the value of the liquor is understated, then the cost of goods sold is overstated.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie, but you’re losing me again. Why is that important?”

  “Because, Inspector, if the cost of goods sold is overstated, which means that the accountant has them on the books as more expensive than they actually are, then Mickey’s net income, the amount he makes, his profit, is understated, or less than it should be. I’m not sure about the process, but I imagine the accountant hands Mickey stacks of bills and shows him the reconciliation for the amount based on the ledger. What Mickey doesn’t know is that the number he’s looking at has been manipulated.”

  Frank shakes his head. “Only an accountant could be excited by this.”

  Maggie laughs. “Imagine how excited Mickey would be to find out that he’s making more profit on his liquor sales than he thinks he is. Money is money, Inspector. And nothing makes a businessman, whether he’s a bootlegger or a banker, more excited than putting more money in his pocket.”

  Frank chuckles. “All right. I see what you mean. So if those profits aren’t in Mickey’s pocket—“

  “Then they’re in the accountant’s pocket. Exactly.” Maggie says.

  “It sounds like Mickey’s going to need a new accountant—again,” Frank says, moving around to sit in the chair, facing Maggie across the desk. Maggie shuts the ledger.

  “I want to go through these again tomorrow, now that I know what to look for. When I’m not so tired, and to make sure I have a thorough understanding of what the accountant is doing. But after that, I don’t know what to do.”

  Frank considers. “Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks, holding up an unlit cigar.

  “Please, do. You know I can’t smell it, but it’s kind of you to ask.”

  Frank puffs and thinks. “We can’t tell Mickey because then he’ll know you’ve seen the private ledgers, and that would be dangerous.”

  Maggie shudders. “I’ve been down that road before, and won’t go there again.”

  “Of course not. No, we need to figure out what to do,” Frank says.

  “We could tell Joe, who would maybe arrest Malazdrewicz?”

  “Would he? He couldn’t even bring in the newspaper boy who beat Tommy. It’s doubtful he’d get the go ahead to take on something this complex.”

  “It would benefit a bootlegger, so I’m sure the Machine would let it happen.”

  “Except those books would be part of any courtroom scenario. No, Mickey will want to deal with it privately.”

  “Inspector, I can’t have the blood of another of Mickey’s accountants on my hands. I just can’t,” Maggie says, wringing her hands.

  “Maybe, for now at least, we do nothing?”

  “Let the accountant continue to skim the books?” Maggie asks. The disbelief of letting a criminal get away with a financial crime is written on her face.

  “It is a conundrum, isn’t it?” he asks rhetorically, one eyebrow raised.

  “What to do when a criminal is being swindled,” Maggie says, tapping her chin with her pencil.

  “If the Grand Jury’s not interested, and we have our doubts whether the police will follow up, and we can’t give the information directly to Mickey, how about we contact the Federal government agents to determine if they can see some value in the information?”

  “FBI?” Maggie asks.

  “No, the Treasury agents. Specifically, those working on the Capone tax case,” Frank says, getting up and pacing. “I imagine they’d be very interested, either in the information itself, or using it for a bit of leverage.”

  “A bargaining chip, and a very large one at that. Excellent idea. I’ll track down who’s involved in Chicago and see what they say. Do you think they’ll go after Mickey right away, or will they hold the information over Mike Malazdrewicz’s head and wring out even more evidence?”

  “Hard to say. If I had to guess, and I think it’s a good guess, I’d say they leave the accountant in place. As long as Mickey doesn’t find out and kill him, he’ll be safe enough. We’ve always known Mickey’s books are a gold mine. And it will stop Mr. Malazdrewicz from stealing any more of Mickey’s money,” Frank says.

  “So everybody wins. Should I mention anything to Joe?” Maggie asks.

  “Later on. After we confirm that the FBI are interested. When you talk to them, mention that we’d like to stay behind the scenes. You don’t want to explain how you came to have the ledgers and other boxes of police evidence. There’s been so much press about the Grand Jury investigation, it would be believable that they could approach DA Monaghan out of the blue and request the information, saying that they are interested in an independent investigation.”

  Maggie tilts her head to one side, and there is a definite twinkle in her eye. “This is exciting, Inspector. We’ll use a criminal to catch a criminal.”

  Frank chuckles. “It takes one to know one, my dear.”

  Chapter 61

  “EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it!

  Eighty five policemen with a million bucks in wealth branded ‘unfit’ and suspended.”

  E dith, staring out the window of the restaurant in the Ritz Hotel, watches the newsboy next to the stand selling newspapers and magazines. She’s bored. Mickey had asked that she come down and meet him for lunch, but he’s late. She’d taken special care, wearing the dark russet silk with the jet beads and pheasant feathers that Mickey said made her look like a gypsy.

  “By the time they’re finished, there won’t be a copper left on the streets.”

  “Bunny.” Edith lifts her cheek for Mickey to kiss.

  “I’m not sure that’s what they had in mind when they started the Grand Jury investigation. You look ravishing, Kitten.”

  They enjoy a cocktail and wait for their lunch to arrive. “You remember George Remus? That fellow who invited us over to his hotel for that wonderful party? Where I got the car?” Edith asks over the rim of her Manhattan.

  “Yes, what about him?” Mickey says.

  “I heard he went to jail.”

  “I had heard that.” What Mickey had also heard was that he had transferred all his wealth over to his wife before he went in the slammer, and then she’d run off with his business partner. Ya gotta watch those partners.

  “I’m glad that you don’t have to worry about the Grand Jury, Mickey. The day they came with the warrants really scared me. Is
it true that Max Hoff is in a bad spot, and that he could be looking at jail time?”

  “Hoff’s going to lose everything, but not his freedom. He won’t serve any time. And you don’t need to worry about me, doll. I’m as good as gold.”

  “I do worry, Mickey. And not just about Grand Juries. Have you talked to Dr. Schnitke? You said you were going to make an appointment.”

  Mickey fiddles with his wine glass, twisting it round and round. He stares out the window.

  “Mickey… You didn’t call him, did you?”

  “I saw him last year and everything was fine.”

  “Everything is not fine. And it was two years ago. You say you’ve got headaches, you’re forgetting stuff and, don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie, but sometimes you’re a real bastard to live with.”

  Mickey laughs. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  “What if it’s something serious? Like maybe a brain tumor?”

  “Oh, Kitten, I don’t got a brain tumor. There would be lots who would say I don’t even got a brain. Ha ha”

  “Mickey, I’m serious. Please call Dr. Schnitke’s office, would ya? For me? Please?”

  “I’m going to be away for the next few days, Kitten. I’ve got to go to Atlantic City. Some of my business associates are going to be meeting there. But I’ll call him as soon as I get back.”

  Edith pouts. She knows about these business trips.

  “Now, no long faces. I have something that should keep you busy while I’m gone, and then some. Think of it as an anniversary present of sorts.”

  “Anniversary? It’s not our wedding anniversary. Oh, Mickey, what is it? Tell me, tell me, tell me,” Edith says. Her eyes sparkle and she fairly bounces with excitement.

  Mickey leans in and takes both of her hands in his. “I was doing some thinking the other day. A lot of the things in my life are changing, Kitten. Henry’s brought in all these modern innovations. I picked up a couple of new businesses that we’ll do well by, now and in the future. And I had to say goodbye to a friend of mine, which was rougher than I thought it would be. It just got me thinking about loyalty and crap like that.”

  Mickey squeezes her hands and pulls them in close. “I know things have been a bit rough between us, what with my temper getting the better of me. And I feel bad about that. I promised you that I would always love you, Edith, when you were in the hospital. I meant it then and I mean it now. I’m a real bastard, just like you said. You deserve better, Edith.”

  Edith’s eyes start to tear up. “Oh, Bunny, I love you.”

  “This is an important anniversary of second chances, Kitten. Remember, two years ago—that February at the Cadix? I should have done this back then. The worst mistake a man can make is to take for granted a woman who actually fought the world for him, and stood by him, and supported him when he was going through the worst days of his life. I love you.” And with that, he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a large, fat envelope which he presents to Edith with a flourish.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Edith slides her finger under the flap and pulls out a sheaf of papers.

  “Oh, Bunny. A new house! You bought me a new house!” She squeals and jumps up to hug him.

  “Hee-hee. Settle down. People will talk. Everything is in your name, Kitten. I wanted to tuck a bit of money away for a rainy day and figured that this was the best way. And it makes you happy. You’re happy, right?” he asks with a grin.

  Just then a waiter comes over with a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne. “Your lunch, sir.”

  “Come on, Kitten. I thought we might have lunch in our new living room. It’s the one out in Overbrook we looked at. I picked up the keys this morning.”

  “Oh, Mickey, you are just too good to me.”

  Chapter 62

  H enry and Mickey are watching the assembly line at the warehouse. “It’s just so efficient,” Mickey says, not taking his eyes off the production. “You’re a real Henry Ford, Henry,” he says, chuckling.

  Henry smiles, pleased with his purchase. “It has a downside though. Something I hadn’t considered.”

  “Oh?”

  “We don’t need as many men. Automation has left us with some idle hands, Mickey.”

  “Hmm. Well, we can’t exactly lay people off, can we? These are guys with unique—let’s say talents. We didn’t bring them onboard because they had factory experience. Maybe we should expand the business? Put some of that talent to work.”

  Henry looks askance at Mickey, not sure where this is going. They’ve had a few good days, but Henry’s days of following Mickey blindly are long gone. “Whatcha got in mind, Boss?” Henry walks over to the table and sits. Mickey joins him.

  “We got a couple of lines of business. Booze, broads, gambling. We could get bigger by expanding the territory; maybe do more business in Jersey or take over more of the action here in Philly.”

  Henry nods. This kind of expansion would have been a natural in the old days, but would he want to be part of that now? Stand behind such an uncertain leader?

  Henry walks over to the crates and lifts a bottle of Traders, bringing it back to the table. He grabs one of the glasses left on the table and pours Mickey a drink. He grimaces at the glass, appreciating the maid service from the hotel.

  “Mickey, I hear what you’re saying. And this Grand Jury thing has really opened up Philly. Hoff’s enterprises are vulnerable. The government’s going to shut them down and clean out any capital he has tucked away. He’ll be lucky to come away from this a free man and, if he does walk, he’ll be a shadow of his former self for sure. The vacuum it will create will be a real opportunity”

  Sitting here with Mickey feels like old times. Maybe the bad days are behind us? “How about I pull together some ideas and we look at reorganizing the men.”

  “We’ll need to move fast, Henry. We don’t want the Lanzetti brothers or any of the others getting a toe hold. If we’ve seen the chance to snatch up some of Hoff’s territory, so will others.”

  “I’ll get right on it, Boss.”

  Mickey turns. “Actually, there’s something else you need to do first. I got the call from Al. He’s wanting to go right now. Apparently, one of Moran’s goons shot a friend of his. You maybe heard of him: Pasqualino ‘Patsy’ Lolordo, head of the mafia in Chicago.”

  “That’s gonna get ugly. The mafia plays for keeps. I thought Capone was down in Florida.”

  “That’s why he wants to go now.”

  Henry nods. So it’s show time, is it? With the expansion talk, I thought the old Mickey was back, but knowing how you feel about my chances of making it outta Chicago in one piece, now I’m not so sure. “Can I take a couple of guys with me? We’ll leave at the end of the week and be home next week some time.”

  “I figured you’d have a plan ready. You got everything you need?”

  Henry gives Mickey a long, level look. Maybe this is goodbye? “Anything we can’t fit on the train, we’ll get there.”

  “Just watch your back, Henry. Chicago is a dangerous town.”

  Chapter 63

  W alking along Market on her way to meet Edith for lunch, Maggie indulges in a bit of window shopping. The spring fashions blooming in the windows lift her spirits. With the income from her father’s firm, she’s planning on splurging on some new clothes for work. She’d mentioned to Ron that she might be late back to the office. Hopefully, Edith has time for a bit of shopping.

  “Doll, don’t you look snazzy. I love that hat.” Edith raises her cheek for a kiss before Maggie sits down. “It’s been absolutely ages since we did lunch. Tell me all about your new job.” Edith leans over and lifts the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket, she shoots a questioning look at Maggie.

  “Only if you’re able to come shopping with me this afternoon. Otherwise, no, because I have to go back to the office.” Edith grins and pours a glass for Maggie. “I am so looking forward to it, Mags. There’re a couple of great shop
s I want to go to that are having sales. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to do some major damage to Mickey’s bank account today.”

  After placing their lunch orders, the gals lean in to do some serious catching up.