The Hunted Girl

by Lawrence J Epstein

  “Wait a half hour, I think.”

  I nodded.

  We finished the coffee and stared at the traffic going by.

  When it was time, we crossed the street, went inside, and were seated.

  I had watched people going into and out of the restaurant, so I wasn’t surprised. The bar was small, tucked into a corner on the side of the restaurant. There were stairs leading somewhere, but there was a rope so you weren’t supposed to walk up there.

  A pleasant young man led us to a table. He told us his name was Nick and that he would be our server.

  Ari and I ordered plain food, he more of it than I. He told me stories about Israel while we waited. I kept looking around.

  The food arrived.

  “Hey, Nick. A friend told me that when I came in here I was supposed to say hi to Rupert. The small problem is I don’t know what he looks like. Can you point him out?”

  “Sure. See the guy behind the bar? Hair so blond it looks white?”

  “He looks like he works out,” I said.

  Nick smiled. “That’s because he does.”

  I gave Nick a ten dollar bill. Ari and I began to eat. We ate slowly. I kept stealing glances at Rupert.

  I signaled for Nick to come over.

  I handed him a twenty. “I’m just going to go over and say hi to Rupert. I may need to leave. If I do my friend will pay the bill. I just wanted to make sure you were around for the tip.”

  “Thanks, mister. I’m hustling to make money for tuition.”

  “I remember those days,” I said.

  Nick left, and I got up and walked across the room to the bar. I sat down.

  The bartender came over.

  I put down a fifty.

  “This is to pay for your drinks,” I said. “You look thirsty.”

  “Life makes me thirsty, mister.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Can I talk to Rupert?”

  “He know you?”

  “Mutual friend.”

  The bartender nodded and went to get Rupert.

  Rupert had a scar across his left cheek that I hadn’t seen from across the room, and an English accent that was light. He probably had been in the Colonies for a long time. His eyes were those of a person who as a child had spent many happy hours choking pigeons.

  “Help you, buddy?”

  I smiled. Many people have told me I have a terrible smile. I have no reason to doubt that is true.

  “I heard you were the person to talk to if I want stuff.”

  “Yeah? Who told you that?”

  “A friend. I don’t think I should use his name without asking him.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I got a job. A special job. My friend told me you could put me in touch with a guy named Whitey.”

  I knew it was dangerous going to see Rupert the day after Whitey and Fingers had broken into my father’s house, but I thought acting quickly might catch him off guard and make him less suspicious.

  “I don’t know a Whitey.”

  “A couple of hundred if your memory improves.”

  “Let’s see the bills.”

  I put two hundred on the bar.

  “What do you want Whitey for?”

  “That’s between him and me. I just want you to tell me how I can get a hold of him.”

  “Just a minute.”

  Rupert went out of sight. He was back in two minutes.

  “Go take a seat on a bench at the railroad station. Go with your friend over there. Whitey will want to see both of you.”

  “How will I know him?”

  “I described you. Have a copy of a newspaper tucked under your right arm.”

  “I almost thought you were going to tell me a password.”

  Rupert laughed.

  “Haven’t done that in weeks.” He leaned toward me. “A half hour. Don’t be late. Whitey smells a cop or a trap and I wouldn’t want to be you or your survivors, mister.”

  “I got a good job for him.”

  “All right. Just play it straight.”

  Ari and I paid for the meal and went outside. I bought a newspaper, and we made our way to a bench right near the station building. I peeked inside. It looked as though it was still being used as a station for some hours anyway.

  Then I called Betsy from a phone in the station. She knew what to do and was on her way.

  All we could do was wait for Whitey, the man who wanted to kill Jennifer.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ari and I sat on a bench next to the station house. I had the newspaper under my arm. A child wandered up to me and said hello. I nodded. The kid’s mother, with her eye on Ari, grabbed the child’s arm and pulled him away.

  St. James was like a giant-sized model train set. We were part of the scenery. The village had all the shops you’d put around a model train to make it look authentic. People were friendly to each other. It was small town America, filled with plans and tensions and problems and love.

  A woman walked up to us. She had on a red beret. She wore a lot of lipstick and eye shadow.

  “Are you looking for Whitey?” she asked.

  I smiled at her. That had its usual effect, which is to say none.

  “We are.”

  “He asked me to give you a message.”

  “Why didn’t he come himself?”

  “No offense. He doesn’t know you.”

  There was a chance that Whitey did know Ari. We had talked about it. After all, Whitey had seen Ari the night before. It was dark and it was fast. But there was still a chance.

  I nodded.

  The woman in the beret nodded back.

  “All right. You turn left out of the station and walk up a half block and cross the street. There’s a parking lot behind the stores. In a corner of the lot, apart from the other cars, is a blue Pontiac. The front door on the driver’s side is unlocked. You get in and sit behind the wheel. Whitey will get in on the passenger side and talk to you. I will be at some distance. I’ll have a rifle pointed at your head. You make a false move, any false move, and you’ll meet your ancestors. You understand?”

  “Sure.”

  She turned and walked away.

  “I can’t let you go by yourself,” Ari said.

  “I already told her I’d be alone.”

  “I’ll sit in the back with my head to one side and keep quiet.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m not letting you go into this by yourself.”

  I looked around for Betsy, spotted her, and nodded. Then I stood up and walked to the parking lot. I saw the Pontiac and walked over to it. Ari got into the back seat. Betsy stayed a considerable distance away. I wanted to tell her about what the woman in the beret had said about a rifle, but Betsy had seen her and would be able to keep track of her.

  I climbed into the car.

  We sat for a few seconds.

  “You know, Danny, if you’re right and someone could recognize me, maybe that guy in the bar heard my description and figured out it was me. He saw us sitting together. The waiter heard my accent. That was a big mirror behind the bar. Maybe it was a one-way and Whitey was...”

  Ari paused and yelled, “RUN FROM THE CAR.”

  We both jumped out and started running. I got about fifteen steps when I heard the explosion behind me. I went to the ground, scrambling even further away.

  Finally, I turned to look for Ari. He was all right. I had the feeling there was a chance he’d survive an atomic explosion.

  Then I looked at the car and the flaming ball of orange fire.

  Betsy had gone to get her car. She honked. We dived into the back seat, and she drove away. I’d have to check my car later when I went to get it.

  Betsy drove to the Mall and parked in one of the giant lots. We walked into Sears and through it. We found a pizza place and sat down in back.

  The slice of pizza I had tasted warm and good. It was like reassuring myself that I was still alive. It took me a long time to calm down.
r />   I realized how different I was from my father. He had the personality of the gambler. He didn’t get rattled. He was willing to bet big, lose, and come right back to play. When I played Little League I once made an error. The ball went right through my legs. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Two plays later, the ball was hit to me again and my mind was so focused on the error that I had made that I made another. My father would have put the first error aside, gotten his mind back together, and been able to play without thinking of his mistake. I had to accept that I wasn’t like that. I couldn’t be cool and tough and hard.

  “The cops will be there,” Betsy said. “Did anyone see you guys get into the car?”

  I looked at Ari. We both shook our heads.

  “Good,” Betsy said. “So what do we do?”

  “I think we get together. All we know is that this involves the Bank of Waterbend. I think we go over all the Board of Directors and see if one of them is in financial trouble or had some romance or wanted to pay Meadows back for some supposed slight.”

  “I’ve got the materials on all of them. But I haven’t had a chance to go over the materials.”

  “So do that. Cromwell is also looking. Let’s see if we can get the facts before we charge at them.”

  “Danny, listen to me.” Betsy had the serious look of someone with a background in professional law enforcement.

  “What’s on your mind, Betsy?”

  “What we’ve done, it’s never been dangerous like this. I want to help Jennifer. You know that. Maybe it’s time to let the police handle this.”

  “You mean give Jennifer over to them?”

  “They can protect her better than we can. They have the people and the firepower to go after these people. They may already know this Whitey guy. We’re walking around with targets on our backs. In a way, maybe we’re putting Jennifer in more danger. She’s who they want. So give her to the police. They’ll leave us alone and the police can take care of her.”

  “What do you think, Ari?”

  “It’s more than Jennifer. Something’s going on at the bank. Jennifer is a piece of the puzzle but not the whole puzzle. And, no offense Betsy, but the police don’t have the emotional ties to the girl that we do. Without us, she’d probably already be dead. Let’s keep investigating. Let’s find out what’s going on. Remember, she has no home. The cops aren’t going to give her any special protection. They don’t even understand that she’s a target. They’ll give her to some foster home. Now that’s a really safe place.”

  I didn’t know Ari could be sarcastic.

  I looked at both of them.

  “My vote is we move her again. Ari stays with her. We keep looking. I only have a week left anyway according to Mrs. Lucey’s rules. So for a week we’ll watch her. After that I have to turn her in anyway.”

  I turned to Betsy and said, “A week?”

  She nodded.

  I felt a sudden sharp pain in my head.

  The way I saw it, I had seven days to save a girl’s life.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ari and I took Jennifer to the house of a friend of mine. She lived in Water Mill. We stopped to let Jennifer look at the mill on Main Street. There was a police car parked on the street as we entered the town.

  “Is there a policeman in there, Mr. Ryle?”

  “No, Jennifer. Don’t worry. The police park an empty car at the entrance of town. It stops drivers from speeding. It’s just a trick.”

  I pointed across the street.

  “See the mill?”

  “Yes,” Jennifer said. “It’s very pretty.”

  “The whole town is pretty. My friend lives here. She was really a friend of...someone I used to know.” I didn’t want to say the woman was a friend of my Mom’s. I didn’t want to have to go into the story of how my mother was dead. Then Jennifer would think again about her own parents. And she’d ask me if my mother was coming back.

  We got to the house. I had called already. This was a special woman. She was large, with her white hair in a bun and a face that glowed with rose-colored kindness. She said she understood the situation and that Ari and Jennifer could stay there if necessary for the full week.

  After Jennifer was settled and helping my friend bake some brownies, I drove back home.

  Betsy said she had some information almost ready to tell me. I called Cromwell. He had some materials as well. We agreed to meet later that day at my home. Then I called Janet at the Congressional office. She put me in touch with the new scheduler, who said she had heard about me but was a little scared to meet me. I told her that most people felt that way. She checked with the Congressman, who could meet me in a half hour. I thanked her and told her that was perfect.

  I drove to the Congressional office and walked around saying hello and introducing myself to some newcomers.

  I said hello to the new scheduler. She did look frightened. Pretty soon she’d feel comfortable. Or she would be gone. For now, she was polite.

  The Congressman kept me waiting for ten minutes. In the Congressional world, that was early for my appointment.

  He stood up, walked around his desk, and shook my hand.

  “You don’t come to say hello, Danny. What’s on your mind?”

  “The Bank of Waterbend.”

  He looked puzzled.

  “I haven’t heard any complaints about it.”

  “Any rumors about mysterious stuff going on there?”

  “If there is, the rumors haven’t made it to me.”

  Lucey made a point of keeping up with all the gossip in the Congressional District, so I was a bit disappointed.

  “I’ve been in the bank twice recently, Congressman. And both times I ran into Mayor Stauffer. Can you think of any reason for that?”

  The Congressman laughed.

  “Yes, I can Danny. Only you’ll be laughing too when I tell you. He’s close to Otto Chance. Indeed, to the whole Board. He was close to Meadows, the poor man. And it’s not just for social reasons.”

  I just shut up and waited. Any guess I made would have made me look somewhere between uninformed and stupid.

  The Congressman was enjoying this, so he waited a few seconds.

  “You may want to grab the sides of your chair so you don’t fall off laughing.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Zachary Stauffer Junior is running for the presidency of the United States.”

  I didn’t laugh. I was just stunned.

  “He did tell me he had recently been in Washington.”

  The Congressman nodded.

  “He was talking to the party leaders. Normally they would discourage him, but they were worried if they did his father wouldn’t contribute to the party or the candidates in the 1984 election.”

  “You told me his father isn’t giving him any money.”

  “And that’s true. But the party bosses don’t know that. At least not yet. And even if they knew, they wouldn’t know if dismissing Junior would make his father annoyed.”

  “He’s a mayor. In a small town. On Long Island. Shouldn’t he run for the Senate or to be Governor first?”

  “You know the State, Danny. There won’t be any openings for years and other people are waiting to pounce. The Governor and Stauffer Senior have a long-standing feud. No. Junior wants to leapfrog the State and go right for the White House. He’s not the first person to try it.”

  “Go back for a minute. So he’s hanging around the Bank of Waterbend in hopes of getting campaign contributions from the Board members?”

  “Sure. They have connections. And he’s presumably not just going there. But that’s his safest base. He knows the customers. Some of them have a lot of money. You put it together and he has a reasonable start. It’s not great. My guess is that what he wants to do is raise enough to impress his father, to show that he’s both independent and serious, and so get his father to open up. You should talk to the father. I’ve told him about you, and he had already heard of you. I’m sorry, Danny,
but his first question was about your father.”

  The Congressman laughed again. “He really liked your father. The word out is that the old man knew people who hired your father. Anyway, you wouldn’t be going in cold. He can give you a lot of information about the Bank of Waterbend if he wants to.”

  I stood up.

  “Thanks, Congressman.”

  We shook hands.

  I went over to see Janet.

  “How’s married life?” I asked.

  “My friends make fun of me because I keep saying I love it. Hey, Danny, I’m old fashioned. I practically hang the wash on a line outside and make fresh apple pie. My husband treats me great. Life is going well. How about you? I keep looking for a wife for you.”

  “Yeah, because I’ve had so much luck with women.”

  “The right one will come along. Believe me, when it happens you’ll know it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Danny, have you heard any more about that little girl, Jennifer? The newspapers love the story.”

  “I hope she’s all right.”

  “I know you pretty well, Daniel Ryle. You’re just the sort of good person who would hide her. If you have anything to do with that, you could get in a lot of legal trouble.”

  “I realize that, Janet.”

  “All right. She’s a lucky girl with you around.”

  “You know, Janet, when this is all over, Jennifer is going to need a home. You’d make a wonderful mother. And your husband is a professor. That’s a pretty good combination for Jennifer.”

  “Let’s wait until then, Danny. But thank you. I have been thinking about a family, but in the thoughts the new family member is a newborn.”

  “Jennifer’s the best kid in the world.”

  “I will think about it, Danny.”

  We talked for a few more minutes and then I said good-bye.

  I walked to the end of Main Street in Port Jefferson, where the office was located, and stared at the water. This time I didn’t walk among the boats, but instead I sat down on a bench.

  Then I got up and walked around the corner to a candy store. When I worked regularly for the last Congressman, I visited here often. The owner, Mr. Gelb, made the best chocolate fudge I had ever eaten.