“Yes, Rog, you leave that to me. You let old Circus worry about that. I’ll speak to Russell.” He reached under his shirt and took out an envelope. “You been to this here place—Moss and Lloyd?”
“Near every day,” I said. “Well, three or four times a week. There’s always something for them.”
“That’s because we been sending them a lot of stuff.”
“You sent all those letters?”
“We wanted them to see you around there a lot, so’s they’d recognize you. You got to know these people any?”
“The receptionist knows who I am. I don’t mean we’re friends or anything, but she always says hello and if she’s not busy we might have a chat about something.”
“About what?” Circus said.
“Well, nothing—you know, the boy didn’t come with her coffee yet, or there wasn’t a decent place for lunch within six blocks. You know, stuff like that. Nothing.”
“That’s good,” he said. “You keep on with that. Now”—he looked around to make sure nobody was listening—“you know what kind of a company Moss and Lloyd is?”
“I never paid any attention,” I said. “I just left the letters.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what it is, Rog. They’re in the bonds business. Now you take stocks, they’re registered in the name of the one who owns them and ain’t any good to no one except the one who owns them. But these here bearer bonds, they’re as good as cash, and worth five hundred, a thousand or more each. Up there at Moss and Lloyd they got drawers full of the things. Just packets and packets of them.” He looked around again to see who might be listening. “Of course they ain’t laying around on chairs and tables where some dirty sneak might walk off with a handful of them. Oh no, I’ll say they’re not. They’re tucked away in a big safe they got back there. But we got a fellow who knows his way around safes. That ain’t no problem. The big problem is getting in there in the dead of night without making no noise. Now, we know there’s got to be a rear door up there somewheres.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s the law. You got to have a fire exit. It’ll probably come out of Moss and Lloyd somewhere near the fire stairs. There shouldn’t be no trouble spotting it, for it’s supposed to have an exit sign over it big enough so’s it’s hard to miss. Now here’s the idea, Rog. If you was to worm your way into the back offices of that place, why no doubt you wouldn’t have no trouble spotting that there fire door and getting a look at the lock. Once we got some idea of the thing, then we might be on our way to moving some of them bearer bonds out of there.”
They were leaving the hardest part to me. “How am I going to get past the reception desk? That woman, she sits there smack in front of the hall that goes back into the offices.”
“Tell her you got this here letter for Mr. Fitch you ain’t supposed to give to nobody but Fitch himself.”
“Suppose she still won’t let me go back there?”
“Well now, Rog, you got to find a way to do it. You’re a smart kid, and you can do it. Don’t take no for an answer. Soften up her heart—say it’s worth your job if you give up that letter to anybody but Fitch. Tell her you’re the sole support of your sick old ma and your little brother, who’s crippled in both legs and is certain to die before the day is out if he don’t get his medicine.”
I looked at the letter. It had written on it, James T. Fitch, hand deliver only. “Who’s James T. Fitch?”
“Russell seen his name in the newspaper. They had a story on these here bearer bonds and they wrote him up because he’s treasurer of Moss and Lloyd.”
I knew right from the start that it was going to be scary, but I never figured so much of it would depend on me. If I got caught wandering around in that place, it wouldn’t be any use for Ma to come down to the station house and say I did it on a dare. It was one thing to steal a bucket full of pork and rice; it was another to walk off with ten or twenty thousand dollars worth of bonds. “Well, I’ll try, Circus. But I don’t know if it’s going to work.”
“Now, now, Rog, talking that way won’t do. We all got confidence in you.”
Maybe they had confidence in me, but I didn’t, for I’d been up to Moss and Lloyd and knew what things were like.
Moss and Lloyd was on the eighth floor of a new twelve-story building downtown. It was all tall new buildings down there with offices in them, and fancy shops on the ground floor, and a good many motor cars parked along the streets. I went on down and took the elevator up to the eighth floor. The two big glass doors with MOSS AND LLOYD lettered on them were right across from the elevator doors.
For a minute I stood there, looking around, pretending I was confused. Over to the right about thirty feet there was a corridor that ran along the outside of the Moss and Lloyd offices. I started off down the corridor, hoping I’d find something. Pretty soon I saw an exit sign over a door. I took a look around to make sure nobody was coming, and then I pulled the exit door open. There was a flight of iron stairs going down. I stepped onto the landing and looked down. They were the fire stairs all right, going straight down to the lobby. I stepped off the landing, shut the exit door, and had another look around. About ten feet farther along the corridor was a door. It had to go into the Moss and Lloyd offices—there was no place else it could go.
I put my hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it as easy as I could. It was locked. But now I had some idea of where it was and could probably find it from the inside.
I went back down the corridor, pushed open the big front doors to the Moss and Lloyd offices, and went in the way I’d done before. The reception room was pretty fancy—big Turkish carpet on the floor, a couple of sofas, ashtrays on stands, paintings of a couple of old guys in suits. A hall led out of the reception room into the back offices, and in front of the hall was the reception desk. The woman who sat there had gray hair and wore a stiff white blouse with a big brooch on it. I went up to her, holding the letter where she could see it. “Hello,” I said. “I’m back again.”
“They keep you busy, don’t they,” she said.
“I don’t mind,” I said. “You get to see the sights.”
“I wish I got to see something,” she said. “I don’t even have a window to look out of. I never know if it’s sunny or rainy.”
“Well, it’s pretty nice today, but a little chilly when the wind blows.”
“I wore a coat this morning,” she said. “But it’ll be hot enough soon. What have you got there?”
“A letter for James T. Fitch. I’m supposed to hand deliver it.” I was feeling pretty nervous now.
“Messengers can’t go back there,” she said. She reached out her hand. “I’ll see that he gets it.”
I hung on to the letter. “I’m supposed to deliver it myself.”
Her hand stopped in mid-air and she frowned. “Don’t they think I know what I’m doing?”
“That’s just what they told me. I wouldn’t dare go against it.”
She pulled her hand back. “Well, you can go back and tell them we don’t allow it.”
“Please. It’ll cost me my job.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “They wouldn’t fire you for something like that.”
“Oh, they would. You don’t know them.”
She sighed. “This is an awful nuisance,” she said. She got up. “Follow me.”
“You don’t need to bother. Just tell me where his office is.”
“No, I’ll take you back.”
Then the front door to the reception room opened, and a man in a dark blue suit and overcoat walked up to the desk. “I’m here for Mr. Sanderson.”
She gave me a look. “Just a moment, sir.” She picked up the phone.
I took my opportunity. “Don’t bother,” I said. “I’ll find Mr. Fitch.” And I darted off down the hall to the back offices as quick as I could. There were doors along each side of the hall, all with frosted glass windows, and names in gold letters on them. I kept on going back until I fou
nd the one that said JAMES T. FITCH, TREASURER. Then I took a look back down the hall. The woman was still talking to the man in the overcoat. I went on down the hall as quick as I could without looking suspicious and turned the corner to the right. Now I was out of sight of the front desk. If she looked around and didn’t see me she was bound to figure I was in Mr. Fitch’s office. Ahead of me, down at the end of this hall, was another door with an exit sign over it. It had to be the inside of the door I’d seen before. Then I heard footsteps behind me.
“Boy,” a voice said. I stopped and turned around. A man was coming along. “What are you doing here?” he said.
“I’m looking for Mr. James T. Fitch.”
“Well, you’re in the wrong place. He’s back that way.”
“They told me he was down here.” I turned my head back and gave the exit door a good look. There was no lock on it, and no bolts. But I needed to get a closer look.
“And I’m telling you he isn’t,” the man said. “Now get out of here before I do something drastic.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I went on back the way I came and made the turn into the hall leading away from the reception room. The woman at the desk still had her back to me. I stopped and looked at the letter like I was making sure I had the name right. I waited a little and then I heard a door behind me open and close. I stuck my head around the corner. The corridor leading to the exit door was empty. Should I chance it? What if the man who’d told me to get out of there came out of his office again?
I took a deep breath and scooted down the corridor as quick as I could. In a few seconds I was at the exit door. I turned the knob. It moved easily; it was only locked from the outside. I slid the door open a crack, just enough so I could see the fire stairs out there. I looked at the latch. I pushed the button to unlock it, and reached around for the outside knob. It turned. I pushed the button again to lock it, shut the door, and scooted back the way I came as quick as I could, my heart racing, my breath coming fast. But now I knew how that door worked and could unlock it any time I could get myself back there.
When I came to the door saying JAMES T. FITCH, TREASURER, I knocked. He stuck his head out. I handed him the letter. “They said to give it to you direct.” He took the letter, and I walked out into the reception room.
The gray-haired woman gave me a look. “I thought I said to wait until I could take you back there. We don’t allow messengers in the offices by themselves.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You were busy and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“What took you so long, anyway?”
“Mr. Fitch was busy. I had to wait.” Then I went on out of there and headed back to Rapid Messenger Service, wondering if I’d be able to get back in there again.
When I got back to Rapid the dispatcher was chewing on his cigar. “You sure took your time. Where was you, in a saloon?”
“I was supposed to hand deliver a letter. They made me wait.”
“Well, if you’d got back five minutes sooner you’d have seen your pa.”
“My pa? He was here?”
He took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at the chewed-up end. “Lemme put it this way, a fella who said he was your pa was here.”
“It must have been him. What’d he want?”
“He said your ma was worried you was making deliveries to low dives and parlor houses. He wanted to see the dispatch lists to make sure you was only going to swell places.”
“Oh. That’s Ma for you.” But I knew it didn’t have anything to do with Ma. She wouldn’t ever have sent Pa over to check on me. And Pa never would do anything she wanted him to do. It was kind of a rule with him. For that matter, it was kind of a rule with him never to do anything anybody wanted him to do. No, Ma didn’t have anything to do with it. I decided I’d better tell Circus Penrose about it.
At seven o’clock the night boy came on and I took off my uniform and left. I walked straight over to the Peacock, down the old stone stairs, and pushed the door open. There were maybe two dozen men at the bar and some couples at the table, and things looked a little more lively than they had in the afternoon. The young black fella banging out ragtime at the piano had a red shirt on now and a derby hat tipped back on his head, and one couple was jigging away to the music, flinging their legs and arms around sideways. Russell and Circus were sitting at a table near the piano. I went on back there. Russell jerked his head towards an empty chair. “Sit down, Roger,” he said.
I sat. I hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks—since he talked me into coming in with them—but I’d thought about him a lot. It was funny seeing him again.
“Want a beer?”
“Okay,” I said.
Russell jerked his head toward Circus. “Get him a beer, Circus.” Penrose got up and left.
Russell cruised his eyes around the whole dive, checking. When he was satisfied, he said in a low voice, “You get in there all right?”
“Yes,” I said. “I found the fire door. It’s like you figured, it’s back by the fire stairs.”
“What kind of a lock does it have?”
“Just a regular push-button latch. It unlocks easy.”
Penrose came back with the beer. “Here you go, Rog. It’s on me.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Just then the piano player stopped and stood up. Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. He leaned over and put it on the piano top. “Give us another tune, will ya?” he said. The piano player sat down again and began to play “Every Day Is Ladies Day with Me.” Russell looked back at me. “You think you’ll be able to get back there again?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Yes or no.”
“I might.” I wanted Russell to know about the chances I took, so he’d see what a good job I did. “Some fella saw me back there and kicked me out, but I slipped back, anyway.”
“Good boy,” Russell said.
“I always knew you could do it,” Penrose said.
“I think I can get back there again. I can figure out a way.”
“We’re counting on you,” Russell said. “You’re the key man.”
“I’ll figure out a way.”
“Okay,” Russell said. “We’ll go in there Wednesday night. Here’s how it’s going to work, Roger. You go on up there just before six o’clock. We’ll give you another letter for Fitch. Get there just when they’re closing up. There’ll be a lot of confusion then, people going in and out, and you’ll have a better chance of slipping through. Unlock that fire door, then go around and wait outside on the fire stairs. Keep a lookout to make sure nobody locks that door up again. Nobody’s going to pay any attention to a messenger boy.”
I just hoped I could do it. Maybe that woman wouldn’t let me go to the back offices. Maybe somebody would go around checking the doors and lock the fire door up again after I’d unlocked it. “That’s my whole job—to get that door unlocked?”
Russell looked around the room again and then back at me. He leaned forward. “No. There’s more. You’re going to carry them bonds out of there.”
“Me?”
“You. If a cop happened to spot any of the rest of us coming out of that building in the middle of the night with a satchel he’d run us in so fast it’d make your head spin. But a cop won’t pay no attention to a messenger boy with a parcel.”
“How much will the bonds be worth?”
“Can’t say,” Russell said. “Won’t know until we get in there. But if we bring it off, you won’t have no trouble getting yourself all the girls you want. Go on out to Lake Resort with one of them and loll around the whole summer.”
He wasn’t going to tell me how much he figured to make, and he wouldn’t tell me afterwards, either. That would be his business. But from what he was saying I would get a lot more than a hundred bucks out of it. Maybe a thousand. It was unbelievable. A thousand dollars. It took most fellas in regular jobs a year to make a thousand dollars. “What’ll I do with the stuff
?”
“Come on back here. Just stand at the bar until somebody comes along and asks you if you’ve got the tickets. Give him the stuff and get out.”
I was beginning to see something about the plan that bothered me. The way Russell had worked it out, most of the risk was on me. Russell wouldn’t go in there to open the safe until I’d made sure the coast was clear, he’d walk out of there with no evidence of anything on him, and he wouldn’t grab hold of the bonds until he was sure nobody was following me. All of a sudden I didn’t feel so good about Russell anymore. Oh, I figured he liked me. But that wouldn’t stop him from using me however he wanted to.
I couldn’t make a fuss about it. I had to just take it. But I resolved that the next time I’d make a better deal for myself. In the meantime I’d concentrate on all that money I was going to have. Maybe I really would go up to Lake Resort and loll around some fancy hotel like I was the son of some millionaire.
In any case, Russell had to know about Pa. “Russell, Pa’s on to something. He came around to Rapid and looked over my dispatch lists. He was finding out where I’ve been going.”
Russell sat there thinking about it. “You must have been to an awful lot of different places by now,” he said.
“Dozens. Hundreds, maybe.”
“How can he figure anything out of that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “All I know is, he’s suspicious you’re planning a new job and I’m in on it.”
Russell sat there thinking. Finally he said, “He still sticking close to home?”
“Yes. He can walk pretty good, but it hurts him to go up and down the stairs. He went down and sat on the stoop a couple of times. Today was the first time he really went anywhere.”
“Let us know if he starts getting around better. In the meantime we’ll keep an eye out for him.” He looked at Penrose. “You got anything to add, Circus?”
“We’re counting on you, Rog. I know you can do it. The minute I laid my eyes on you I said to myself, This here is a likely lad. You’re going to make a pile out of this one.”
I wondered if I would. Or if I would end up in jail for the rest of my life.
My Crooked Family Page 12
