by Millie Mack
Jonathan nodded his head in agreement to Charles’ question and then added, “I met Suzanne through Bill Genello. They were friends when Suzanne worked in New York. She wanted to travel in Europe and I wanted someone to keep an eye on Jamie while he researched his smuggling story. So I hired her. I told Suzanne that I needed someone to keep Jamie on track with his deadlines, but she was never to let Jamie know she worked for the magazine.”
“She never realized she worked for you and not the company?” asked Charles.
“I think she suspected when I had her hide the listening device in the study. She didn’t like spying on you. But I told her with Carrie in town, I needed her help to know the progress you were making with the murder investigation. In her little girl way she thought she was helping to solve the murder. Of course, it was this same device that helped us realize Suzanne was about to tell all. Unfortunately, this revelation caused Mr. Petrovich to shoot her. But let’s not linger on the unpleasant. Charles, I want to hear about the journal.”
“The journal? You heard through the listening device that the journal is of no value to you, Jonathan. The journal contains no names or clues about what was being smuggled. I wanted you to meet me at the Admiral’s Saloon to help me question this kid, Ben. Unfortunately, you jumped to the conclusion that we were closing in on you.”
“Perhaps.” Jonathan’s answer was pensive.
Carrie could tell he wasn’t pleased with the implication he had jumped to a wrong conclusion.
Jonathan continued. “Jamie went to Simpson for his will and the letter for Carrie. Do you think Jamie confided in Simpson?”
“I’m telling you Jamie didn’t tell anyone anything! You know how he worked. He kept his cards close until he sat down to write the final story. In fact, I bet Jamie wasn’t planning on writing a story.” Charles said this and then carefully waited for Jonathan’s reaction. “Didn’t he tell you he wouldn’t write the story?
“Your brother did make an offer that if I stopped smuggling the caviar, he wouldn’t write the story. Jamie also jumped to a wrong conclusion. He thought I’d agree to his offer out of fear of losing my job and my income. He had no way of knowing I was making more from smuggling than from my editor’s job.” Jonathan paused and then added, “Although I still find it difficult to believe I was wrong in assuming you both knew I was involved.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to investigate Suzanne’s background or asked for your help tonight if I thought you were the murderer? I figured Ben had more information, and hoped he would lead us to the murderer.” Charles looked directly at Jonathan. “Now that you understand how we came to be sitting across the table from you, what are you going to do with us?”
“That’s a problem. I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t see any way I can leave you two around to tell your story.” Jonathan made a clicking sound with his tongue, indicating his regret.
After Jonathan’s comment, Carrie could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Charles must have sensed her feelings because he reached over and gave her a kiss. Then he nuzzled her neck and whispered softly in her ear, “Where are we?”
His question wasn’t what Carrie expected, and she pulled back and looked at his face. Charles gave her another quick kiss.
“That was lovely, but I’m afraid it’s time to go,” said Jonathan. Petrovich and Genello, who were sitting quietly at a nearby table, now jumped to their feet.
“Where are we going?” asked Charles, with desperation sounding in his voice for the first time.
“I have a place where you won’t be found for quite a while,” Jonathan answered. “Perhaps people will think the two of you ran off together.”
“Why not here?” retorted Charles.
“Customers will be arriving shortly, and murder is not on the menu. This place also provides another little side income for me. I don’t want it shut down during a subsequent police investigation into your disappearance.”
“Carrie, did you drive here?” Charles asked.
“What? Oh, no. Ben and I walked the couple of blocks from the Admiral’s Saloon.” Then it dawned on Carrie why Charles whispered the question. He really didn’t know where they were. “How did you get here?” she asked in return.
“Jonathan met me at the office, and the guys were waiting in the parking lot with the van. Petrovich and I sat in the back, where there wasn’t much of a view.”
“Oh Charles, that means you missed the sign out front. It reminds me of the pubs in London, where the pictures on the sign have such cute names. This sign has a British sailor doing a jig. Which makes sense, since the name of the pub is the Dancing Sailor.” Upon saying the name, Carrie could see Charles relax.
Then Jonathan chimed in. “The picture really does help identify the place. Many times I’ve had deliveries brought by foreign sailors who don’t speak much English, and the sign makes it easy for them to find the pub. But enough of this chatter, we really must go.”
Petrovich helped Carrie out of the booth. Then Charles slid across the seat. As he went to stand, he slipped toward the floor. “Sorry, my leg seems to have gone asleep.”
“Really, Charles, this is no time for you to try to delay.” Jonathan no sooner finished the words than they heard pounding on the front door. Jonathan nodded for Petrovich and Genello to check out the sound.
44
Before Petrovich and Genello reached the front of the pub, there was a cracking sound and the front door burst open. As the police entered the front, there was pounding on the back door.
Petrovich and Genello took cover behind the bar and exchanged gunfire with the police. Charles knocked over a table and pulled Carrie behind it for cover. Out of the corner of his eye, Charles saw Jonathan run to the flight of stairs the bartender used earlier. The battle seemed endless to the couple crouched behind the wooden table. Then they heard a loud pop and saw a cloud of smoke rising. This was followed by the sounds of coughing and choking, as Petrovich and Genello emerged from their hiding place behind the bar with their hands raised.
“Tear gas,” said Charles. “Try to avoid breathing deeply.”
“Did you know the police were coming?” asked Carrie. “Is that why you wanted me to say the name of the pub?”
“Jonathan wasn’t the only one with a listening device. I’m wearing a police wire,” Charles responded. “The only problem was I didn’t know where we were since Stone brought me in through the back door.” Carrie started to ask more questions, but Charles said, “I’ll tell you more about it later. Right now I’m going after Jonathan.”
“Charles, be careful. You can’t be sure Jonathan doesn’t have a gun or isn’t going to get one.”
“My foremost thought is to return to you. As soon as the police get back here, send them after me.” With those words, Charles left Carrie and went after Stone.
Carrie decided not to wait for the police to reach her. The gas was beginning to drift toward the back of the room. She got up from her position behind the table and went to the back door to let the rest of the police enter. When she arrived in the back room, she saw Ben bound and gagged, lying in a heap in a corner. She didn’t stop to help him since the pounding on the door continued.
“Wait a minute. It’s Carrie Kingsford. I’m trying to get the door unlocked.”
Carrie struggled with several bolts and locks before she was finally able to free the door. The police rushed in, led by Captain Becker.
“Are you all right, Ms. Kingsford?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but this young man will need some medical attention,” she said, pointing to Ben.
“Call the paramedics,” Becker ordered the officer behind him. “What’s the situation out front?”
“When the tear gas exploded, Jonathan’s two men surrendered. However, as you broke through the front door, Jonathan headed for the upstairs. And a bartender went upstairs about twenty minutes ago.”
“Where is Mr. Faraday?”
“He went after Jon
athan,” responded Carrie. “He wants you to follow.”
“He shouldn’t have done that!” Becker was clearly annoyed with this news.
“This way,” Carrie said. She led Becker and two officers into the main pub.
Becker yelled to an officer approaching from the front, “Everything under control up there?”
“All set, Captain. Bad guys in custody,” the officer answered as she lifted her gas mask.
Becker motioned for Carrie to lead on. She quickly took Becker and his officers to the bottom of the steps leading to the second floor. Carrie started to follow Becker up the steps, but he turned and stopped her. “No, you wait here! Officer Reynolds, please make sure Ms. Kingsford stays put.”
Carrie had no chance to protest. Becker and the officer went up the steps as Officer Reynolds took hold of Carrie’s arm.
“Ah, Ms. Kingsford, we meet again,” said Officer Reynolds with a broad grin. “In case the tear gas drifts back, perhaps it would be better if we sit at a table closer to the back door so we get some fresh air.” Officer Reynolds led her to a table closest to the back room and pulled out a chair for her.
Carrie sat, as directed. She was helpless and frustrated, not knowing what was happening to Charles. She said a silent prayer asking that Charles be kept safe.
45
Charles followed Stone up the back steps of the pub. He approached the second floor slowly, hugging the railing of the steps. Charles reminded himself not to be a hero. He only wanted to follow Stone so he could tell the police where he went.
As he neared the top of the steps and his head became visible through the spokes of the banister, he watched for any signs of Stone or the bartender. There was no movement. Instead, he discovered four closed doors along a hallway that ran the length of the building.
He approached the first room. He stood to the side of the door, using the wall as protection. He turned the knob and flung the door inward. It hit the back wall and snapped back toward him. He looked in and saw a storage room. Lining the walls of the room were gray shelving units holding various supplies for the pub. He saw no place for anyone to hide. He left the door open to this room and slid along the hallway to the next one.
He listened. All he heard was the continuing commotion from downstairs. He repeated his method for opening the door and this time gazed into a lavish office. There was no sign of Stone, but Charles knew he had been there. The wall safe was open, a desk drawer had been dumped, and several file drawers were ajar. A fire in the fireplace was still burning the remains of several folders. Charles dropped to the floor and scanned the area to see if Stone might be hiding under the desk or behind the sofa. Once Charles was convinced Stone was gone, he went directly to the fireplace. He took the poker, moved the burning files onto the slate grate, and stomped on them to extinguish the fire. Hopefully, some of the information could be saved. He then moved to the desk and looked at the remaining contents in the drawer. There was only one item of interest: an empty cartridge box. Charles knew that Stone was now armed.
Charles reentered the hallway. He could no longer hear gunfire, but he continued to hear banging. The police must be at the back door. Carrie will tell the police I’m upstairs and help will follow, he assured himself. Two more doors to go, he thought as he listened at the third door. He thought he heard a sound. Charles repeated the process of throwing the door open, only this time it didn’t hit the wall. Someone was behind the door. Charles quickly pushed against the door with his full weight. He heard the sound of a groan. At the same time, a bullet skimmed across the wood of a banquet table located in the center of the room. From behind the door, a hand holding a gun appeared. Charles kept pressure on the door as he wrestled the gun away. Once Charles had control of the gun, he pulled the person from behind the door. It was the bartender, and although his nose was bleeding, he came out swinging. Charles ducked, then hit him with all his might and was surprised when he knocked him out. He didn’t have time to tie him up. He hoped his punch would keep him out of the way until the police got there. Charles took the bartender’s gun and went back into the hallway.
The last door was straight ahead. Charles could feel an adrenaline rush. This was the only place Stone could be. He approached the door cautiously. He listened. He heard only silence. However, unlike the other doors on the floor, this one opened out into the hallway. Charles steadied his gun and then swung the door out toward him. As he glanced into the blackness, he saw a set of steps going up to the roof. At the top was another closed door. Charles quickly took the steps and found the door at the top locked. He looked at the gun in his hand. They do this in the movies. Let’s see if it works in real life.
He retreated back a couple of steps to avoid a ricochet and fired directly at the lock. The door swung open to reveal the roof of the building.
Charles flattened himself against the top step for cover. He was blinded as to what was to the left, right, and behind the door of the roof. He could only see a small section of open space in front of him. Charles decided there was only one way to find out where Stone was hiding and that was to go out on the roof. He exited the door and leaned his back against the wall of the roof entrance. No signs of Stone. He slowly moved to the edge of his cover and cast his eyes to the left. There was a large ventilation unit, which would be a perfect hiding place. Charles was debating what to do next when he felt something poke him in the side.
“Bad mistake, Charles. You should have stayed downstairs.” Jonathan Stone leveled a gun at Charles. “Raise your hands, please.” Charles complied and Stone took his gun. “Charles, having a gun is so out of character for you. Where did you get it?”
“I took it from the bartender you left downstairs. It’s over, Jonathan. The police are right behind me.”
“I think Petrovich and Genello will keep the police busy long enough for me to escape.”
“You’re wrong, Jonathan. The gunfire has stopped. That means Petrovich and Genello are in custody. You’re a smart businessman. It’s time to cut your losses.”
Jonathan cocked his head and listened. “Cut my losses and do what? Go to jail for the rest of my life? Even though Petrovich was responsible for Jamie’s murder and shooting Suzanne, I’m still an accessory. There is also the matter of the illegal caviar.”
“What’s the alternative?” Charles asked.
“For right now, we are going to move to the other side of the roof.” Stone gave Charles a couple of pokes in the back.
Charles moved as slowly as he dared to the other side. Stone walked to the edge of the roof and looked over. He seemed pleased. He then directed Charles to move backward.
“Jonathan, what are you planning?”
“Did I ever tell you I was quite an athlete in my younger days? In college I was on the track-and-field team and quite good at the long jump.”
“College was a long time ago,” Charles responded.
“True, but I’ve always kept in good shape. Keeping in shape is something you should consider, Charles. I never see you doing any exercise.”
Charles ignored his comment and said, “Jonathan, this is crazy. Suppose you make it to the other roof. Then what? You think the police aren’t surrounding the entire area? You’re just prolonging the inevitable, and you may get hurt. Get a good lawyer instead.”
“I have a good lawyer. He helped me buy the building next door. That’s my escape route. Since the police are here, they obviously know more than what you admitted. But that’s okay, regardless of what I said downstairs, I wasn’t going to kill you and Carrie. I was going to detain you while I finished my arrangements to leave TriCity. And Charles, I never meant to hurt Jamie. Please believe me.”
With these words, Stone started to run across the roof. Charles was amazed at the speed Stone generated in such a short distance. There was a gap in the roof edging, which allowed him a straight shot. He went through the gap effortlessly.
Charles was so focused on Stone he never heard the noises behind him. Stone was
airborne when the first police shot was fired.
Charles yelled, “No, don’t shoot him. Quickly! Send someone to the house next door!”
Stone was hit by that first bullet. He grabbed his upper arm. Charles was close enough to see the blood seeping through Stone’s fingers. As the next police shot was fired, Stone hit the roof of the building next door and rolled several times.
Charles ran to the edge of the roof. He could no longer see Stone. He must have made it to the staircase leading down into the building. It was the last time Charles would see Jonathan Stone.
46
A week had passed since the events at the Dancing Sailor pub. Genello and Petrovich were behind bars, without bail. Suzanne’s parents arrived and were making arrangements to take her home for a long convalescence. Jonathan Stone was still at large and it was believed he was no longer in TriCity.
On Saturday night, Captain Becker joined the Faradays and Carrie for dinner. After a quiet meal, they were sitting in the study having coffee and Becker was finally sharing information with the family about the case. Christopher would normally avoid coffee in the study, but that night he wanted to hear all the details from Becker.
Mrs. Faraday, who was looking and feeling much better, took a sip from her mint aperitif and let out a small sigh. “I know we have all the answers to this horrible nightmare, but I still can’t believe that Jonathan Stone was the person responsible for all of this mayhem. Do you think he will ever be captured?”
“I personally think we’ll never hear from Jonathan again,” Charles answered. “With his connections from his importing business, he could be hiding in any number of places.”
“Maybe he went back to Poland” suggested Christopher.
“Perhaps, but I’d bet on a Latin American country,” answered Becker.
“Really!” responded Mrs. Faraday. “Somehow, I can’t see Jonathan Stone with his sophisticated sense of style in some Latin American country.”
