The Noir Evil

by Richard Paul Caird

  This name was clever play of words on his own name and it was given to him because of his uncanny ability to always ruin his smart appearance that his overly persistent mother always dressed him in at the beginning of each day. Even his high school year book stated underneath his photograph “Eliot Ness - Although he has a store of wit, he’s very shy in using it” This particular quotation had unusually affected him because on the one hand he adored the beginning of the it but detested how they criticized his shyness towards the end. This was a true reflection of him however and regardless of his shyness, he was always a driven man since he was a young boy because his farther, Peter had always instilled a sense of drive and purpose within him. His farther had wanted him to achieve success, be this in his professional or personal life and always strove to solidify this purpose within his own psyche.

  Both his father and mother had recently been impressed at how cunning he had been in attempting to gain all the notoriety from the press to enhance his own public profile, using this unstoppable and well nurtured ambition as a weapon. To Ness his ambition and relentless pursuit of perfection showed that this he was a ‘doer’ and got things done and not just a ‘talker’ whom promised change but never delivered, like the many slimy and two-faced politicians that he grown to detest with a passion. He swore he would never partake in such a vile activity as the political arena which as akin to a vipers nest of backstabbing cutthroats even worse than the mafia, whom at least had a code of conduct and a sense of honour. However this ‘mafia honour’ hid something far more sinister because he had to postpone marrying his beloved wife, Edna due to the fear of Capone’s past reprisals.

  A few years ago he had refused Capone’s offer to take a two thousand dollar a week bride to lay off his brewery-bashing activities and he had been so furious with the mafia messenger that he had stuck the money back into his upper pocket and thrown him out of the building. In hindsight this public display of contempt for Capone was probably not the smartest thing that he had ever done because Capone was not a man to be denied, especially in such a defiantly public way. The Italian don then ordered one of his men to shoot at him and also attempt to run him down with an automobile which genuinely frightened an already anxious Ness. Capone was not foolish enough to murder a government official because this would simply bring down more heat upon himself but he was a professional at scaring and the young and ambitious law man soon succumb to this desired effect. He postponed his marriage with Edna due to Capone’s unpredictable acts of violence and soon after that withdrew from social gatherings as a whole. Regardless of these traumatic events the newspapers picked-up on the story of his refusal to bow to Capone’s will and his untouchable nature was shone in the public spotlight, solidifying him as a squeaky clean American hero.

  Ness had revelled in the newly found press attention and although he embellished his own stories a little, he found that he was somewhat addicted to the attention that he was now getting. The I.R.S may have left a bitter taste in his mouth but he felt optimistic whilst coming here on the train because he could start fresh here, with Edna by his side and he felt that he had learnt from his previous mistakes. Ironically he had personally thought that the Volstead Act, commonly known as prohibition, was silly and had even told his friend that “You simply cannot legislate against human nature” but he would never publically say this of course. He would also not publically admit that the events of Chicago, as well as his over consumption of opium and scotch, had had a detrimental impact upon his marriage with Edna. Although publically he was happily married man, privately his marriage was effectively all but over, tirelessly lingering within the twilight of its finite life.

  He had left Edna back in Chicago and taken the train journey here alone because he had feared they would argue all the way to here. They did have plans that she would join him later on at their new lake house and once he had settled down within his new position but he was not looking forward to it. Edna detested and deplored his new favourite drug not only because of his blasé behaviour that would develop after taking it but also because of how it was affecting their love life. They already had not much of a love life of late but this new drug had the unwanted additional effect of lessening his already limited sex drive even more. This complication only added new fuel for their already heated arguments and they had sadly not made love in almost two years now.

  They had been sleeping separately since he had started his consumption of the prescription only opioid drug and on many lonely nights he had often become sad thinking about the family that he had so desperately wanted to start with her, feeling that Capone’s intervention may have postponed his only chance at having a child. Perhaps this was Capone’s unwittingly parting gift to him upon leaving Chicago for his new incarcerated home on the rock, all the stress may have possibly made Edna unable to conceive the very thing that he wanted the most, a child. He hoped that they could possibly start that new family here and salvage whatever remained of their relationship but only after he had focused all his efforts upon cleaning-up Cleveland first.

  The pondering Ness then noticed the distinctive appearance of a familiar 1932 Ford De Luxe police automobile as it slowly pulling up close to him through the rain, near the vacant emergency exit of the train station. The clever Ness had already planned his strategic escape from the humid train station to elude the ravenous reporters prior to his arrival. He then allowed himself a congratulatory ‘well done’ as he smiled and waved at the reporters from a distance, whom by now looked frantic and where shouting unconceivable questions and requests for quotes all at once. The smiling Ness waved goodbye as he discarded his cigarette on the wet ground as the angry reporters shouted a few other selected choice words at him for not coming over to their delegation.

  He secretly smiled to himself under his hat as he genuinely attempted to hide his delight at being frantically pursued. He then turned his attention to the slowing Ford which had pulled up next to him whilst it was swiftly followed by a small cloud of consuming dust in its wake. The agitated Ness held both his mouth and nose closed until the smoggy cloud dissipated and he then noticed that the still Ford was newly polished and well-cleaned but the cleaners had missed a few places. The years of uncleanness where like a beckon to ever perceptive Ness and shone through like a lighthouse signal as he also noticed the thick layers of filth and grime that had accumulated upon the silver hub caps. The Ford had obviously been relentlessly used through the years and had only now been recently cleaned, possibly for his arrival but he would need time to determine the answer to this query.

  The large shadowy man in the passenger’s seat leaned over to the driver’s side of the window and quickly rolled it down. The old window produced a squeaky sound that erupted from its old interior, once again confirming Ness’s suspicions about the old Ford’s cleanliness. By now Ness was eager to hear what the mystery man had to say as he heard the newly released press hurriedly start to move into the passenger area, seeing that there quarry was about to leave without them without even getting a single quote or photograph to take back to their respective newspaper employers. Ness glanced at them in concern and knew it would take them at least a few minutes to reach him from their distance before he then heard the mystery man’s voice “Mr Eliot Ness?”

  The shadowy passenger, whom by now was leaning uncomfortably over the driver, was a Cleveland police detective after he flashed his credentials from his leather wallet. Ness could smell upon his breath that he had just finished his cigarette, which was now in the Fords ashtray, still smouldering and glowingly flickering out of life. The hesitant Ness then eagerly replied with expectation “Yes!” before the detective spoke again “Please sir! I’m detective Lloyd Trunk and this is police officer Martin O’Donnell and we’ve been sent to collect you, please jump in! The doors open!” Ness quickly looked apprehensively at the Ford’s dirty door and then glanced again at the incoming group of reporters, whom where now frantically trying to run through the rain and catch the
re elusive target.

  Reporters where now shouting louder than before with even an accompanying flash or two of the camera’s bulb that beautifully lit up the falling rain as it cascaded down all around them. Ness hastily opened the door as quickly as he could, forgoing his usual worries about the filth upon the unclean door handle. As soon as he jumped in he then spoke again whilst quickly closing the door behind him “Drive quickly please!” This was totally impolite on Ness’s part, which was unlike him, but considering the circumstances it was an acceptable compromise due to the flock of vulture-like, salivating reporters whom where harrying him. There was a distinct possibility that one of them could get a potentially unbecoming photograph of him looking somewhat wet, dishevelled and tired and if such a picture was taken then this would be a totally unmitigated public relations disaster for him. This possibility would even cause him to have restless nights of worry and apprehension because he would try to see the unseen photograph within his anxious mind in all its uncompromising clarity.

  The greying driver had thankfully kept the automobile running and so he quickly eased on the gas and the Ford smoothly sped away and down the muddy exit ramp. The slightly less humid and sticky Cleveland air now comfortably breezed over Ness’s every pore, blissfully cooling him in an instant. The sickly smell and odour of the dirty train station was quickly dissipating as the Ford quickly rolled on into the fresher and cleaner air of the darkened streets.

  By now the flashes of the reporters camera’s had stopped and they were all quickly disappearing in the rain spray that was thrown-up by the Ford’s fast moving tires. The rain then camouflaged there escape within a grey haze that would make any photograph of Ness almost impossible to perceive. Ness quietly breathed a silent sigh of relief and did not hesitate to have another glance back over his shoulder to make sure that the rabble had finally gone. After a few seconds a relieved Ness then spoke again “They almost had me!” and smiled before then leaning in closer to the two individuals up front and continued “Nice to meet you detective Trunk, officer O’Donnell”

  After waiting a moment he realised that the shadowy detective was not going to reciprocate his warm and welcoming gesture as he held out his hand for a hand shake. He then noticed that Trunk was staring at him in the front mirror with a pair of distinctively unwelcoming eyes which caught him off guard because he was still thinking about the unseen reporters. Ness was extremely adept at reading people’s mannerisms and facial expressions and felt that he could almost read minds because of this advanced skill. He persistently kept leaning forward however and was almost silently insisting upon on a handshake because he knew that first impressions count and so, eventually a somewhat reluctant detective Trunk leaned around and shook his hand whilst speaking “I’m so sorry we were a bit late sir but we had some errands to attend to. I do apologise”

  Ness looked at him with kind eyes and a large smile before he spoke “Oh! Don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem not at all! I understand the stresses of police life” The heavily overweight Trunk, whom Ness thought could do with going on a bit of a diet, then raised an eyebrow as he looked at Ness through the mirror. The unimpressed Trunk then looked out of the window with an expression which suggested that he did not entirely believe Ness’s claim. Ness had been lying and to him of course about being late because in actuality it was a huge inconvenience and he had almost paid the price for Trunk’s negligence by being the target of those ravenous reporters and there accompanying camera’s.

  He wanted to publically berate each of the two men with a tirade of verbal abuse but he was still new here so he had to watch his tongue and get the lay of the land first. He glared-up again at the detective’s eyes which were now fully analysing him in immense detail within the mirror, apparently not being content with looking out at the uninviting gloomy Cleveland streets. Ness pretended not notice this observation and leaned back in his leather seat to get more comfortable and proceeded to take his handkerchief out and dab the remaining rain away from his forehead. He then took off his hat with care and placed it gently next to him on the freshly cleaned interior of the Ford’s humble leather seat.

  As he did this he noticed that the ashtrays in the passengers seats where still full of cigarette butts, confirming to him once again that this Ford was freshly cleaned but not at all well. He speculated if this was what the Cleveland Police Department was like, to all outward appearances it appeared to be a well-functioning and beautifully clean machine but just take a look closer and scratch through the surface and you will discover its true ugliness underneath. Ness then curiously noticed that there was an expertly crafted, vibrating origami owl that had been placed on the dashboard up front and thought that this would be a good ice-breaker for a conversation to start and so mentioned it “Who’s is that origami owl? Very well done I must say” Trunk replied instantly “It’s a Giraffe!”

  Ness felt a little ashamed at not noticing the difference because he could have sworn that it was an owl but now, getting a better look at it, it was most defiantly a Giraffe. His shame was thankfully taken away by O’Donnell’s quick interjected into their conversation “Yeah! Trunk’s a regular origami artist” to which an unpleasant looking Trunk looked at him in anger and O’Donnell’s smile quickly wore off as he once again turned his complete attention back towards the road. Ness took note of O’Donnell’s quick submissive reaction whilst he proceeded to wipe his forehead of remnants of rain, until he surprisingly realised that the rain had long since gone and that he was now perspiring heavily. He tasted the saltiness of the liquid as it ran down his face and touched his lips and then looked up to notice that Trunk had seen this curiously surprised reaction upon his face. He had apparently been waiting for this opportunity as he turned away from Ness’s reflection, satisfied that Ness was only human after all and not some ‘super-human, mob-defeating one man army’ that the Chicago newspapers had made him out to be.

  Ness felt ashamedly being caught off-guard and then smiled as he spoke again “Forgot my umbrella Hehe!” and as this awkward laugh came out he hesitantly padded down his wet coat arms of the remaining rain water that they stubbornly still contained. He was still surprised at how humid it was as he then took in the unfamiliar sights of Cleveland at night, such as the dominating and impressive Terminal Tower in the distance which appeared to tower over the entire city like some sort of great Egyptian obelisk that demanded your complete attention. After a few minutes Ness finally broke the awkward silence “Wow! It’s so humid tonight isn’t it? Must be all those industrial factories working around the clock right?” he waited for a response but none came and so he eagerly continued “So that must be the famous Terminal Tower?”

  Ness looked again at the amazingly newly built, impressive structure that dominated the Cleveland skyline, gleaming to all like a beacon of greatness and proving that Cleveland was a force to be reckoned with in this modern age. He waited and smiled before continuing “It truly does live up to all expectations don’t you agree?” Trunk and O’Donnell did not say anything for what seemed like an age until O’Donnell hesitantly replied “Yeah! She sure is a beauty, only finished in 1930 you know?” Ness was grateful for a response and replied eagerly, not wishing to lose the good thing that he had finally started “Yep! A real beauty, Geez! Is it just me or is it real humid tonight?”

  He then loosened his collar and undid his tie some more due to the heat and humidity that was now emanating from within the stifling Ford itself. When it was too hot he got agitated and could easily lose his temper but he had to keep up his perfected positive image of personality projection no matter what. He would keep up this false pretence in order so that they would tell others how impressive he truly was in person, this in itself would be a small but crucial victory already in Cleveland. A good image was everything to Ness and he had put a lot of work into his personality projection over the years, knowing that it was a valuable tool to extend his reputation, influence and ultimately his power. He was not a cold
man because of this controlling nature, he simply did not want to come across as being what he had always been, socially awkward. He did not want to show this weakness and vulnerability because he believed that others would use it to their advantage, hence him not being able to fully relax around others. Nonmatter how much this bothered him it could simply not be helped, it’s just how he was since he was a child and it is why his marriage was ultimately fading into oblivion.

  He and Edna would only been seen together at a few selected public events later on that month, which were mainly being held for the press and ceremonial events. His marriage was sadly becoming an illusion of sorts which was created by him in order to progress in the field of his work and presented an aura of conviction about him, showing the public that he was as a trustworthy and strong individual. A serious man of principles, dedication and loyalty to both his religion and his wife which would be a vital part in helping him to fulfil this fabricated image of desirability. This is why the opium was such a gift to him because it alleviated all these social barriers that he had spent so long building up and released him from the lonely tomb-like prison that he had created for himself.

  The sweat that was dripping from his forehead then broke his chain of thought about his faltering marriage and his anxiety problem as the salty dripping liquid unforgivingly now saturated his entire body and had even caused his palms to become sweaty. He secretly deduced that he would now not be able to shake the many hands upon his imminent arrival at the Police department headquarters. He would have to strategically select who’s hand he would shake first in order to make sure that the most important person would not acquire his ‘gift’ of a sweaty handshake. He smiled to himself as the thought about how he always had to analyse everything in such detail, even down to the order of people’s handshakes and this was yet another reason he had started taking opium for his daily activities, to alleviate such incomprehensible anxieties.