The Gold Pawn

by L. A. Chandlar

  “All right, Tucker, here’s the plan. I have this little shack of a house, got it just for this meeting to take place . . .” Tucker listened to the cunning plan, the plan where he could get rid of Finn Brodie and put Lane in her place. But in such a way that opened a small window of opportunity to have her to himself one day. One day . . .

  CHAPTER 58

  Over dinner that night with Aunt Evelyn, Mr. Kirkland, and Roarke, who had stopped over, I filled them in on the hypothesis about the pawn from what Miles told us, and the theory that Venetti and Hambro were perhaps involved with the Red Scroll Network with business as their motivation.

  After taking a bite of the pork chops covered in sautéed onions and apples, Roarke said, “I think that all sounds pretty reasonable. What next? How do we find Donagan?”

  Mr. Kirkland replied, “Well, I don’t know that we’ll need to do anything.”

  Aunt Evelyn added in, “What he means to say is, Lane, don’t do anything.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed indignantly. But I didn’t defend that position, I had already begun to think of ways that would drum up some action.

  Roarke replied, “Yeah, I also believe that with Mr. Hambro, no news is actually good news. Whatever Mrs. Hambro says, I think she knows more than she thinks she knows or thinks she can reveal. Either way, I don’t get the feeling he’s in imminent danger. As far as Donagan is concerned, he’s been awfully quiet, but that’s going to end soon. It has to. He’ll act on it.”

  Right then, the clamor that is Fiorello came bursting into the house. Ripley greeted him and ushered him into the kitchen. He looked longingly at the last remaining pork chop on the platter, but Mr. Kirkland had already popped up and retrieved a piping hot plate from the oven (he often did that, someone was bound to drop in unexpectedly). He set it before Fio’s place and received a wide grin of appreciation from that party.

  Fio dug into the delectable meal, stopping only to say a quick, “What’d I miss?”

  Roarke quickly filled him in on what we’d been discussing. I put my chin in my hand and looked at Fio closely, trying to discern anything that his face might give away, ready to pounce.

  Fio took a big swig of his wine and said, “I agree. I don’t think we need to do much, something is about to turn up. I think we should all be on our guard, though. I highly doubt that Donagan is just going to take whatever he finds from the pawn and go retire to Monaco. Although one can always hope.”

  Later that night after everyone went home, I was reading by the fireplace in the parlor when the doorbell rang. I got to the door just as quick as Ripley, who looked at me in annoyance as if I had taken his pivotal moment in the spotlight.

  I opened the door to a frigid blast of winter wind. “Hey, Finn, come on in.”

  “Hi, love. Thanks.” I gave him a quick kiss; his cheek was freezing and he smelled like winter. I took his coat and even though he hadn’t been wearing gloves, his hands were as warm as if he’d been sitting with me by the fire.

  I took him to the parlor and we sat down on the floor right in front of the fireplace, next to the colorful Christmas tree. Mr. Kirkland hollered from the kitchen if we’d like a cup of coffee and I yelled back that yes, we would.

  “Did you get something to eat, Finn?”

  “No, didn’t have time.”

  “Okay, hold that thought.” I left him and ran to the kitchen to make him a plate. I put the plate and the two coffees on a tray and made my way back. Finn’s eyes were drawn to the heavily laden tray and he jumped up to help.

  He started eating as I fixed my coffee with cream and sugar. As I stirred it, I thought about my confirmed hunch, with that interesting person I’d seen Fio talking with. I went back and forth in my mind deciding if I’d let Finn in on what I learned. I did like a good reveal. But I decided to tell him all about it, his eyebrows almost shooting off his amused face.

  After a good chuckle, he said, “Hey, Lane, I wanted to tell you, I have a new case at work and I might be out of touch a little bit the next week.”

  “Oh yeah? Anything to do with our case?” I asked with a tilt to my head.

  “Surprisingly, no,” he chuckled. He told me of a particularly intriguing bank heist and how he needed to go undercover, not deep cover or anything too dicey, but to talk with some of his informants to get the word on the street about this gang that seemed a little more intelligent and patient than most bank robbers. It sounded kind of fun, pretending to be someone you weren’t. Living in a world that wasn’t real. For a while.

  “Can I get word to you if I need you?” I asked.

  His eyes met mine, a deeper connection happening than I had actually intended. “You need me, Lane?” he asked in his accent that was all his own.

  And in that instant, it hit home just how much I needed and wanted him. I looked in his dark eyes, and saw reflected there the same awareness. He put down his coffee cup and shifted over next to me where I had been leaning back on my hands, my legs stretched out in front of me, ankles crossed. He put his arm around the small of my back and pulled me over so that I was sitting next to him on the other side, my legs draped across his lap. His other arm came around me and enveloped me in the warmest, most content embrace. Completely intertwined with each other, his lips naturally came down to mine.

  When we pulled apart, just a little, I whispered, “Yeah. I need you, Finn.”

  “I need you, too,” he whispered with a smile. “And you will always be able to get a hold of me. I might not be around in my usual sense, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  CHAPTER 59

  I lay in bed that night thinking. Deliberating and tossing around in the sheets. Some things had come together, but back in Michigan, why were my mother and father in a photograph with Rutherford Franco, a man who was supposed to be an enemy? And how could I figure it out?

  The only other person who might know more was Uncle Louie. Who also was in that wretched picture with my parents. They were all in this together for some reason. And what exactly was Venetti’s role? If I was normal, I would stay away from him. But I wasn’t normal. Well, let’s say average. Average sounded better. A well-known banker, a gangster, a master villain’s son, and my parents. What did they all have in common?

  At work the next day I had lunch with Valerie and Roxy, to try to sort out everything. It was complex to say the least, with mixed motivations and agendas all over the place.

  “I think you should talk with Venetti,” blurted out Roxy. Valerie almost spit out the soda she had just gulped, and I almost tipped over in my chair as I had been leaning back while deep in thought.

  After Val stopped choking, she said, “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Says the girl who stomped into his home office a couple months ago to have a little chat,” I said sarcastically.

  Roxy chuckled. Val said, “That was different. You were nowhere to be found and he was my last resort. It was life and death, Lane!”

  “I know, I know,” I said in a placating tone. “Don’t worry, I’m not that desperate yet. But can you think of anyone or any way to help me figure out Rutherford’s role?”

  “What about Daphne?” asked Roxy.

  “No.” I was never—ever—going back to Metropolitan Hospital to visit the horrible creature that was Tucker and Eliza’s mother, and Rutherford’s wife. She scared the hell out of me, tried to kill me as a child, and hated me with a cutting bitterness. Roarke and I went to try to get some information from her only once, but I’d never forget her long white-blond hair, and the way her face was a mask of hateful rage. “Not a possibility. Besides, in her mental capacity, you’d never know what was truth and what wasn’t.”

  “How about that Miles character?” asked Val.

  “Yeah, that’s a possibility. He’s on his way back to London now, but there are some roots of the Red Scroll people there. Maybe I could ask him to dig around. He’s already retrieved a good amount of information, but I don’t know if he’s exhausted all his resources. I’ll s
end him a telegram today,” I said. Sure couldn’t hurt. Only when all my resources were taxed would I consider a meeting with Venetti.

  It was not only possible, but quite likely that he might have had a hand in the hit on my parents. I was able to look at the details of the case with a logical mind when I was keeping busy, but if I left my mind to drift . . . a savage hatred of the person behind their deaths was lurking right beneath the surface.

  When I was honest with myself, I hated Venetti. I hated him if he put out the hit. But I also hated that he had come to my rescue enough, why couldn’t he have done something about my parents? If he was so high and mighty, and they were in league with him to some extent, then he must have known what was going on. And either was incapable of helping, or uncaring. I despised both.

  Ralph interrupted my thoughts as he came bopping into the conference room where we had decided to eat our lunch.

  “Hey, girls!” he chirped. I nodded to Roxy.

  She dove in, “Ralph, how are ya? What are y—”

  “Well, gals, I got a lot goin’ on this weekend. Whattaya say we all meet up for the Rockettes’ show, then maybe some dancing at the Ricochet Club? They fixed up the place after that big shooting a few months ago. All the guys are in jail, and well . . . that’s where the name Ricochet came from anyway, that’s hilarious, right?”

  As he took a breath I quickly burst out at top speed, “Sounds great, Ralph! I think we should meet up ahead of time for a bite to eat and then head to the Rockettes, should be—”

  “Yeah! That’s great, let’s plan it. See you all later!” he said, and raced out the door.

  Val looked at us with a smirk.

  Roxy and I were simultaneously counting on our fingertips the number of words we each spoke.

  “You win, Lane! Nice one.” She delicately reached into her purse—I was glad it wasn’t in her bosom—and took out a dollar. We clinked our soda bottles to seal the deal.

  CHAPTER 60

  “Are the messages all ready?” asked Donagan.

  “Yes. I have it all arranged. This is the week, Donny,” said Eliza as she slithered behind him, rubbing his shoulders in that way he enjoyed most. “Lane and Finn won’t expect a thing. And if Fiorello happens to get in the way, even better.”

  “Excellent. We will have everything we’ve ever wanted soon.” He could barely contain his excitement. It was gloriously eating him alive. And he let it. The control, the power, the lust. It was delectable.

  And none of them knew what was coming for them.

  CHAPTER 61

  The following day, late in the afternoon, a message came from Finn. He said he had a break in his case and asked to meet me in the evening at a small house on the Lower East Side. I was excited to see him so unexpectedly. And I wanted to run by him the thoughts I had about Venetti and trying to find out more about Rutherford from Miles. I was disappointed that I hadn’t heard back from Miles already. It felt like the clock was ticking down and we needed that information before Donagan got his legacy and began, what? A whole new era of a gangster more powerful than any other?

  And I’d get a few minutes with Finn. Because of that, it was hard to concentrate on work. Fio was in a funny mood. He kept winking at me knowingly. He had such an affinity for the dramatic! Honestly, he should have been in Hollywood. If he didn’t have such a deep passion for government, he would have been a splendid actor.

  The time finally trickled to the appointed seven o’clock. I took the elevated train downtown, then walked toward the house on the Lower East Side. I knew most of the city like the back of my hand, but I wasn’t too sure about this particular area; not only unsure of where I was going, but also not liking the look of the place. Or maybe it was just the night.

  It was cold and damp, the penetrating bitterness of the sidewalk seeping right through the soles of my shoes into my bones. There was no moon, no sense of cheeriness in looking up to see that pure white crescent peering down. The city was always bright, unlike the countryside, so at least I could still see quite well. But the atmosphere was dank and raw.

  I finally saw the little house that was slightly more than a shack up ahead.

  I was only a block away and I could see Finn’s shadow in the house, moving around in the low light. His silhouette looking around, probably making sure the house was clear like the good detective he was. But then a woman stepped out of a car parked next to the house. She had long red hair. It was Eliza. She held a machine gun in her hands. Then she leveled it right at the house. At Finn.

  Eliza put her finger on the trigger of the machine gun and the world completely stopped. I was too far away, too helpless, too slow. Finn was going to die. Right in front of my eyes. She lifted her chin, her very stance godlike. The ability with the flick of her wrist to give life—and to take it away. She slowly pulled the trigger.

  “Nooooo!” I screamed. I started to run, hardly able to keep from stumbling and falling in rage and utter fear, the bullets ripping into the building.

  Something suddenly bowled into me, shoving me to the ground. Then another great thump landed on me, bringing tears to my eyes as I felt a crack in my ribs. After an eternity came silence. Everything was black, a pain shooting in my side, I could barely breathe. Then everything slowly lifted.

  I smelled him, felt him before I could really see him.

  “Oh God, Finn. You’re okay.”

  “Are you all right, Lane?” he asked with a desperate voice.

  “Yes, I’m okay.”

  “Fio, you can get up now,” said Finn.

  In the semidarkness, Valerie and Roarke came running up to us.

  Valerie yelled breathlessly, “I knew it! I knew something wasn’t right. Are you guys okay? I saw the house, you told me about your rendezvous. Then the gun went off . . .”

  We all slowly swiveled our eyes over to the ruined house. Eliza’s ammunition was completely spent, the gun tossed aside. I just glimpsed the back of Eliza’s coat as she entered the house, when a savage scream tore into the silent night. Whoever was in there, it wasn’t who she thought it would be. Could it be . . . ? No. That wasn’t possible. Was it?

  I started to say, “I think it’s—” but was cut off as we saw two forms stagger to the front of the door, holding each other up.

  It was Eliza and Tucker. My God. She had gunned down her own brother.

  As they started to drag themselves toward her car, we slowly made our way nearer. Then a huge ruckus attacked us from the left.

  “Get down! Get down! Lady! Get down!”

  We all stopped and a small posse of ragtag urchins was running toward us, all yelling at the top of their lungs. I saw one head above all the rest: Morgan.

  She yelled a commanding, “Get down NOW!”

  All of us instantly dropped to the ground as an earsplitting explosion roared over us. Intense heat roiling through the air, the thunder almost unbearable even as I’d covered my head. Then a silence that was heavy and muffled, things sprinkling down on top of us like hot, hard rain. Then everything went black.

  CHAPTER 62

  I felt someone lift me up off the ground. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the comfort of his chest. I felt a sharp pain in my side, but it wasn’t too bad. My ears were ringing. Then he set me down, leaning me up against something sturdy.

  “I’m okay, Finn. Thanks,” I said rather dreamily. I could see him, he was talking to me, but it was hard to hear him. There was smoke everywhere, people running. I quickly scanned the area for my friends. All of us at this one spot. All of us in terrible danger. A hand turned my chin to look into his eyes. My hearing started to come back slowly.

  His muffled voice said, “They’re all okay.”

  But off to the side I caught a glimpse of Morgan as she staggered, then fell to the ground. Roarke had been coming over toward us and saw her, too. He yelled to Finn and me, “I got her!” while running over to her and dropping to a knee. His hand gently pushed the hair from her forehead and I could see him trying t
o talk to her. I let out a breath as I saw her nod. He gently picked her up and carried her as if she weighed nothing at all. He set her down on the curb and sat down next to her, giving us the okay sign.

  I smiled, then touched that pain in my side. My fingers came up. They had blood on them. “Oh, bugger,” I said.

  Finn carefully lifted my blouse on the side where the blood came from. “Something jabbed me when I landed on the ground. I don’t think it’s bad. You knocked me to the ground when Eliza shot up the building, but then what happened?”

  “Fio,” was all he said.

  “Ah. Got it.”

  “It looks okay. There’s a small puncture, probably from a stick or something on the ground. You had about four hundred pounds of man land on top of you. I guess you’re lucky that’s all that’s wrong with you. How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked. I counted carefully just to be sure.

  “Three.”

  “Good,” he said softly, and exhaled, relieved. Then he looked at me. Really looked at me.

  “I have to say, I think I’m actually a little tired of adventure at the moment,” I said. He softly laughed, which made me laugh, then wince in pain.

  “Come here.” He pulled me gently toward him, wrapping his arms around me, my head resting on his chest and his shoulder. We sat there for a long time, letting everyone else handle everything.

  I looked over at the front of the shabby little house, torn apart, hundreds of shiny casings sprinkled on the ground in a macabre shine of glitter. Tucker and Eliza were nowhere to be seen.

  CHAPTER 63

  After a lot of rigmarole, we were able to usher everyone back to headquarters. That is . . . my house. Shortly after the explosion, Mr. Kirkland and Evelyn had shown up at the scene along with the police and fire department. Shockingly, none of us had been hurt more than surface scratches and bruises. The medics looked at my puncture and cleaned it up. I didn’t need any stitches, it was just uncomfortable. We had them take a look at Morgan, too, much to her chagrin. But she was fine, just a bit disoriented from the explosion.