Where's the Rest of the Body

by Ron Finch

  With the forensic report out of the way, the chief carried on with his second item. “You will recall, previously, that I mentioned as a young police constable I had visited the site of the Featherstone fire. After the events of last week, I’m convinced that not only was the fire set deliberately, but that most likely it was set because it was a crime scene. I think the murders and the subsequent cutting up of the bodies took place in that house.

  “As you know, Cst. Jarvis has been working with me these past few days, going back over old records. We have been reviewing all local police reports, focusing on any complaints the public made about feeling threatened from January 1st, 1911, up to the date of the fire on October 3, 1911. We think we’ve found something. I’ll let Jay tell you about it.”

  “On Labor Day, September 4, 1911,” said Cst. Jay Jarvis, “there was an incident at the Featherstone farm. The local police had to be called to ask two young gentlemen to leave.”

  “Were you one of the constables that went to the farm that day, Chief?” asked Cst. Herman.

  “No, I was at a Labor Day picnic that day,” said the chief. “Please continue, Jay.”

  “According to the report, two young Americans, Johnnie Polizzi and Ernie Stanzio, had driven their fancy new car all the way from Chicago to visit Nancy Featherstone. It turns out that they told her parents they would deliver Nancy back to DePaul University for the next term. Mr. Featherstone told them Nancy wasn’t going back to DePaul the following year. He told them to leave the property immediately. There was a lot of shouting and screaming from everyone, including Nancy.

  “One of the neighbours happened to be going by in their buggy and saw that there was a ruckus. They took their buggy straight into Chaseford to get the police. Once the police arrived, the two young fellows got into their vehicle and left. Mr. Featherstone declined to press charges since the two fellows left promptly. The two young fellows never returned to the area and as a result the incident was never followed up on.”

  “Now it’s time to follow up on this incident,” said Chief Petrovic. “I think it’s a lead worth pursuing. Cst. Jarvis has already volunteered to go to Chicago.”

  The last comment caught everyone’s attention. No one could remember the last time a Chaseford policeman got to go on a trip.

  “Don’t look so stunned,” said the chief. “Just my little joke. Nobody’s going to Chicago. Thank heavens for the invention of the telephone. I had a feeling these young men might be known to the Chicago police, so I contacted the Chicago Police Department.

  “The police in Chicago told me Polizzi and Stanzio were a couple of small-time hoodlums. They seem to have left Chicago very suddenly within the last month. No one knows where they went. The police lieutenant I was talking to told me one of the mob guys, Tony Accardo, was after them. He said they were either out of the area or at the bottom of Lake Michigan. He didn’t care. He just didn’t want them back in Chicago. The lieutenant told me Johnnie Polizzi still has some family in Chicago. His one son seems somewhat close to Johnnie. He told me he is a good young man and that he would check with the son sometime this week and get back to me. The lieutenant figures Johnnie’s son is the only one in Chicago who will know where Johnnie and Ernie went if they’re still alive.

  “Until we get some more information, we are temporarily stalled in the investigation. But we have lots of other work to do in town, so you’d better go and look after it.”

  IT WAS MY TURN TO PLAY the host. Tonight, Georgie and Gwen Cummings were coming to my one-room apartment at the back of the store for a late supper. My dad knew I had company there now and then, but my parents didn’t mind; after all, I had sacrificed my room at 200 Durham Street to Granny Watson. Unfortunately, all I had to cook with was a hot plate, and it was only good for warming things up. So, for fancy meals like this, I had to rely on my mom and my grandma. They prepared an extra-large supper, and right after they ate my brother Ralph, my sister Emmylou, and my dad packed what was left from the meal in the car and brought it down to the store. Tonight, there was even a fresh-baked chocolate cake.

  The timing was great. My family had only been gone about five minutes when Georgie arrived, quickly followed by Gwen Cummings. They both smiled and said things like “Oh, you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.” Then Georgie spoiled it all by saying, “Please thank your mom and grandma the first chance you get.”

  Both of them burst into laughter.

  “Let’s eat, it looks delicious,” said Gwen, finally.

  When we’d finished our meal, Georgie said, “You don’t have a very good place to wash this many dishes.”

  “I know, just leave them for now,” I said. “I’ll take care them later. Let’s talk about telepathy.”

  The three of us had been doing some reading since we’d talked about the possibility of telepathy the first time a week or so ago at Gwen’s house. I don’t think we really knew much more about telepathy after doing the reading, but we were still quite interested to see whether it was possible for Gwen and me to communicate telepathically because of the unique ability we shared. And I had the perfect lab. Since one wall of my apartment was nothing but a stack of boxes, a person could just walk around the stack and they would be out of sight.

  Our amateur scientific explanation was based on the hypothesis that, if you focused your mind, you could project some kind of electromagnetic signal. Walter and I were convinced that that was how we communicated. Perhaps Gwen’s mind and my mind had developed the ability to perform this type of broadcast in a minor way.

  Tonight’s parlour game would require a deck of playing cards. To begin with, Georgie and Gwen would go to the other side of the wall. Georgie, who would be holding the deck of cards, would randomly draw one from the deck, take a look at it, and show it to Gwen. Georgie would say ‘ready’ loud enough for me to hear on the other side of the wall. I would pick up my pencil and get ready to write down the name of the card on my pad of paper. Gwen would concentrate intently on the card in her hand for a moment, then she would nod at Georgie and Georgie would say ‘finished’. This would be repeated for three different cards, then the three of us would meet together to take a look at what I had written down.

  At the end of the first session, when we took a look at my answers, I had identified one of the three cards correctly. I was disappointed, but 33% was still somewhat impressive. I thought that, since I had to write down not only the value of the card but also the suit, I only had one chance in 52 of being correct if the results were truly random.

  Then Georgie asked me a very good question. “I know Gwen was concentrating, because I was there, but were you concentrating as you would if you were listening intently for something, or were you just hoping something would come into your mind?”

  “I confess, I probably wasn’t concentrating as much as I should,” I said.

  “That’s pretty much what I figured,” Georgie said with a smile.

  We tried the experiment again. This time I went to the other side of the wall with Georgie while Gwen stayed behind with the paper and pencil. When we got together this time the results were more impressive. Gwen had guessed two of the cards correctly and was only out slightly on the third one. She’d written down ‘two of clubs’ instead of ‘three of clubs’.

  “I don’t know how to explain this,” said Gwen, “but when I was concentrating, I thought I almost felt something.”

  We tried the experiment four more times. At the end of the night, Gwen and I had each had a chance to predict nine cards correctly. Gwen had predicted seven out of the nine and I had predicted six out of the nine correctly. That was a total of 13 out of 18 correct guesses. By my calculations, that was a success rate of over 70%. It certainly wasn’t random.

  We’d had a lot of fun and we were excited. We may have found something out. Georgie suggested another good test.

  “Why not have two people that don’t share your ability try the same test?”

  “You’re so clever, Georgi
e,” I said. “And beautiful too.”

  Georgie blushed and Gwen laughed. The compliment was worth it; Georgie stayed and helped me with the dishes.

  Monday, February 27th

  IT WAS MONDAY MORNING again and the chief had us gathered around the table in his office.

  “Just before we get down to business, I have one question to ask Joel,” said the chief.

  The serious look on Chief Petrovic’s face had me worried. I had no idea where this was going.

  Chief Petrovic grinned and said, “Joel, what’s this rumour I was hearing this morning at Mabel’s Diner? Is it true about your brother Ralph? Everyone in Chaseford and area knows he’s the best ballplayer around. He’s a heck of a third baseman. Someone at breakfast this morning said Ralph has been invited for a tryout with the Cleveland Indians. If he’s successful, he would likely end up on the Butler Indians roster in the Pennsylvania State Association.”

  Spring training is just around the corner. Baseball talk is already heating up at the diner. The Detroit Tiger fans are still stirred up. They don’t seem to realize that the Cardinals beat them in the World Series last year, four games to three. A lot of us at the diner are Cleveland Indian fans. Cleveland had a good team last year too. The Indians finished third in the American League. There’s a lot of joking – and a lot of insults – being tossed around in the diner by fans of both teams. Mabel has already warned us: “If anybody starts a food fight, they’ll be gone for a month. But not until after they clean up the mess.”

  “That rumour is true,” I said. “My brother Ralph got a letter from the Cleveland Indians organization last Thursday. My mother gave it to him at the supper table. There was so much whooping and hollering my mother sent him and my dad outside to cool off. We are all really excited. We know Ralph has a special talent for baseball. So far, the only thing that’s certain is the tryout. But the entire family is convinced he’ll be successful. But I know my mom won’t let him join a minor league team until he finishes his school year. She thinks he’s too young to be going somewhere else to play baseball. If he gets a contract offer – and I think he will – it will be up to Ralph and my dad to convince my mom that it’s okay for Ralph to go to the states and play ball for the summer.”

  As soon as I’d finished talking the other constables made almost as much noise as my dad and Ralph had made Thursday evening.

  “Now to other business,” said the chief. “I did hear back from the police lieutenant in Chicago. He talked to Johnnie Polizzi’s son. The young man told him he’d received a letter from his dad saying he could make contact with Johnnie by getting in touch with Beno Stanzio in Hamilton, Ontario. I don’t know who was more surprised about Polizzi being in Ontario, the Chicago lieutenant or myself.

  “I followed up on that lead by contacting the chief of police in Hamilton, hoping that Beno Stanzio was known to the police there. The Hamilton chief of police does know him. He said he knows nothing about him ever being involved in any criminal activity, but the chief and Beno Stanzio both attend the Most Blessed Sacrament Roman Catholic Church in Hamilton. As a matter of fact, the Hamilton chief of police attended the wedding of Beno’s daughter at the end of January. He said Beno is a very friendly and gregarious guy. He runs a large and successful construction company based in Hamilton. Beno’s a Canadian citizen and has lived in Hamilton for well over twenty years. The chief of police considers himself a friend of Beno’s and would have no trouble asking Beno about the whereabouts of Johnnie Polizzi. The chief said he hoped to be back to me before the end of the week. There appears to be little else we can do in this case until I hear back about the location of Johnnie Polizzi. Once we find Johnnie, I will set up an interview with him.”

  Shortly after that the meeting ended.

  GEORGIE AND I WENT out to a fancy restaurant for supper. Actually, it was Mabel’s Diner, but the food is always good and affordable. With the Depression still going on it was a rare meal out for us even though we are both employed now. We had a table to ourselves, and we were having a good meal and pleasant conversation until Proofie Duncan appeared and offered to serenade us for 25 cents. I think the idea was to pay him the quarter so he would go away without serenading you. Proofie was a little under the weather; it was obvious from his speech and behaviour that he’d been attacked by the demon alcohol. Mabel had him escorted to the door and beyond.

  Georgie started a new conversation with, “I think we should invite Jay and Sylvia over to your place Friday evening. We could play some games and have some snacks. I was thinking of one game in particular.” I still hadn’t caught on, so Georgie said, “The game I was thinking of is the one that we played with Gwen Cummings.”

  This time the light went on. It wasn’t real bright but at least it was on.

  “Aha, this time we can work in a test involving two people that don’t have the abilities that Gwen and I have.”

  “You’re so smart, Joel,” said Georgie. “We don’t even need to let them know that we’re running a test.”

  “I like your idea,” I said. “Give Sylvia a call. I know her mom can hardly wait to look after Baby Brad.”

  Friday, March 3rd

  LATE THURSDAY AFTERNOON, just before Chief Petrovic left his office, he received a phone call from the Hamilton police chief, Sam O’Donnell. Chief O’Donnell had phoned Chief Petrovic to inform him that his conversation with Beno Stanzio had been successful. O’Donnell had just received a call back from Beno. Beno had contacted his brother Ernie and Ernie’s friend Johnnie Polizzi. They had agreed to meet Chief Petrovic at the Hamilton police station on Friday at a time convenient to the chief.

  “Two o’clock in the afternoon would be a good time for me,” said Chief Petrovic. “I’ll bring one of my constables with me. It should take us a little under two hours to drive there. We’ll have an early lunch and then head to Hamilton. I haven’t been to your police station before, so perhaps you should give me some specific directions.”

  Chief Petrovic jotted down the directions, then he thanked Chief O’Donnell for locating Polizzi and Stanzio. Chief Petrovic was still amazed at what a coincidence it was that Chief O’Donnell knew Stanzio’s brother Beno. The chief then contacted Cst. Herman.

  “You’re going on a field trip with me tomorrow. To the Steel City,” he said.

  “You can’t fool me,” said Cst. Herman. “I’ve been to Hamilton before and I know we wouldn’t be driving to Pittsburgh.”

  Chief Petrovic and Cst. Herman arrived at the Hamilton police station about ten minutes before 2 o’clock. They were greeted by Chief O’Donnell, who escorted them to an interview room. Chief O’Donnell told them that Beno and Ernie Stanzio and Johnnie Polizzi had arrived about ten minutes before them. When the Stanzios and Polizzi had arrived, Chief O’Donnell had escorted them to a different room. He didn’t want them bumping into Chief Petrovic and Cst. Herman until Chief O’Donnell could make introductions.

  “We would like to interview Johnnie Polizzi by himself, first,” said Chief Petrovic.

  “Okay, I’ll go and get Johnnie. Ernie can stay and chat with his brother while Johnnie’s being interviewed,” said Chief O’Donnell.

  In a couple of minutes, Chief O’Donnell returned with a man about 50 years old whom he introduced as Johnnie Polizzi. Polizzi was about 6 feet tall and a bit on the stocky side. He looked like he had probably been a decent athlete in his youth. He didn’t seem alarmed to see them.

  “How can I help you gentlemen?” he asked.

  “We’re just trying to clear up a situation that occurred a number of years ago,” said Chief Petrovic. “You may have some information that could help us. We’re also curious as to why you’re in Canada now, and why you are so reluctant to give out your address?”

  “My friend Ernie Stanzio and I are reluctant to give anyone our address,” said Johnnie. “At the moment, we’re in Canada on a six-month visitor’s visa. We may want to stay longer. You can check with the police in Chicago. I don’t think there are any
warrants out on us. But we have come to the attention of a mob guy there named Tony Accardo. We don’t know why he’s taken a dislike to us, but we didn’t feel safe in Chicago. We don’t know if Mr. Accardo has friends in Canada or not but we don’t want to meet them.”

  “I’ve read about Mr. Accardo in the newspaper,” said Chief Petrovic. “You’re probably wise to remain anonymous if you can. I’m going to ask you some questions about an event that happened over twenty years ago, near the town of Chaseford. I hope you have a good memory.”

  “I know I was young and foolish,” said Johnnie, “but I don’t remember doing anything that would have led to an arrest. I’m not even sure where Chaseford is.”

  “Maybe I can jog your memory,” said Chief Petrovic. “Does the name Featherstone ring a bell? Remember this is from more than twenty years ago. Did you know anybody from Ontario name Featherstone?”

  Chief Petrovic watched Johnnie Polizzi’s face as it went from a blank look to a look that seemed to say: ‘Oh yeah.’

  “I guess from my reaction I did know somebody,” said Johnnie. “I just wasn’t quite sure of the last name. We always called her Nancy.”

  “So, would you agree that you knew someone called Nancy Featherstone back then?” asked the chief.

  “Yeah, Ernie and I met her when she was going to school in Chicago. At DePaul University. That would’ve been 1910 or 1911. She was a very outgoing girl. She was beautiful and impulsive and liked to have things her own way. As long as you marched to her drumbeat, things were okay. If you crossed her, there was hell to pay. A lot of screaming and tossing of anything that was handy.”