Johnny Black, Soul Chaser: The Complete Series (Johnny Black, Soul Chaser Series)

by JJ Zep

“Go away, Johnny…Dexter, oh, now you’ve gotten me all confused.”

  “Is this man bothering you, miss?” the burly commuter next to her asked.

  Alice looked at the man, looked at me, then back at the man. “No,” she said, with a little smile curling the corner of her lipsticked mouth, “He’s not bothering me at all.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came to see me off,” she said when the man had left.

  “That’s just it, Alice. I don’t want you to go.”

  “You don’t?” Alice said. A look of pathetic hope appeared on her face, then suddenly changed to suspicion. “What about all that baloney about you being dead and chasing down some hood named Freddie Fishfingers?”

  “All true,” I admitted.

  “Oh, for crying out loud Johnny Black, you really are the limit! Mixing me up with your banana oil stories about souls and hell and calling yourself Dexter Blacksuit. And that bug-eyed baby all dressed up like a circus performer just to scare me off. I’m not a dumb Dora you know. I can take a hint.”

  “But Al said…”

  “Oh, so Al put you up to this did he? Well you can tell that two-bit hood that Alice Dodgson’s no longer interested in being a gangster’s moll. I’m going back to Broken Bow and there’s the end of it. You mobsters, there’s not an honest one among the lot of you.”

  I stood with Alice until the departure of her train was announced. “Here we are then,” she said taking my hand. “It’s been swell, Johnny.”

  “Goodbye, Alice,” I said.

  “Oh Johnny,” Alice said locking me in a hug and kissing my face. “I’ll always remember you, Johnny. If you’re ever in Broken Bow look me up, and if I’m ever in hell, oh what am I saying…”

  “You’ll never be in hell Alice,” I said. “There’s no place there for an angel like you.”

  twenty five

  “You found her so quickly?” Capone said. “How did you find her so quickly?”

  “A couple of calls,” I said.

  “So where is she?”

  “She’s in Boise, Idaho.”

  “What the hell is she doing in Boise, Idaho?”

  “Visiting her Aunt Flora. She sends her love, says sorry for causing you any bother and she’ll be back on Friday.”

  “That broad never was too quick on the uptake,” Capone said. “But you done good, Black.”

  “So are we square now?”

  “After Thursday, if everything goes as planned, then we’re square.”

  “So the caper goes ahead as planned.”

  “Of course, you didn’t think I was going to put my business on hold over some dame, did you?”

  I left the Lexington and headed back to my hotel, hoping to find Jitterbug there. Instead, I found Frank waiting for me in the foyer.

  “Have you spoken to Velma yet, Johnny?” he asked eagerly.

  “I’ve been kind of busy, Frank.”

  “But you will talk to her, won’t you Johnny?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I think you’d better come up to my room.”

  “You ain’t going to try and weasel out of our arrangement are you?” Frank said.

  “Let’s talk about it upstairs.”

  Frank followed me up to my room. I half expected to catch a trace of Jitterbug’s cigar smoke or find him pleasuring a lady imp, but the room was empty and devoid of any whiff of his Montecristos.

  “What’s this all about, Johnny?” Frank wanted to know.

  “You know how I said I was going to put in a word with Velma for you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well I’ve been thinking. How would that look?”

  “So you are welching out on the deal.”

  “It would look pretty pathetic don’t you think. Like some high school kid asking a pretty girl to the prom on behalf of his buddy.”

  Frank looked instantly dejected, “You’re right, Johnny. Thanks for saving me from making a sap of myself.”

  “Perk up, man! I’ve got a better idea.”

  “You have?”

  “How would Velma feel if you were famous? I’ll bet she’d be all over you like bubblegum on a park bench.”

  “Even if that were true, how’s a putz like me going to get famous?”

  “By being the man to bring down Al Capone.”

  “What! You been on the giggle water, Johnny? How am I going to bring down Al Capone?”

  “You’re an accountant right.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And what’s your specialty?”

  “I do people’s taxes.”

  “And who do you think does Mr. Capone’s taxes?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Well, I’ll tell ya, just for tellin’ ya. Nobody. Nobody does Al Capone’s taxes because Al Capone doesn’t pay any taxes.”

  “But that’s a federal offence.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what’s this got to do with Velma?” Frank said. He seemed more confused than ever.

  “Here’s what you’re gonna do Frank. You’re going to phone the Bureau’s Prohibition Hotline. You’re going to tell them that you have a surefire way of bringing Mr. Al Capone to justice, but you’re going to insist on speaking to Special Agent Elliot Ness in person. Once you get in with Ness you name your price. You tell him the price for nailing Capone is, you want a job on his team. When he agrees, you tell him that the way to nail Capone is to get him on tax evasion.”

  “I still don’t see how this will help me win Velma’s heart, Johnny.”

  “Think about it Frank. You’d be a G-man, a Hoover man. Not only that but you’d be the man to bring down Al Capone. Velma will literally be dragging you down the middle aisle.”

  “I don’t know Johnny. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Well don’t think too hard. This is such a hot ticket, I might just decide to punch it myself.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I just might, Frank so don’t wait too long.”

  I walked Frank down to the foyer and saw him on his way. Then I made a call to the Bureau’s Hotline myself. I told them about a shipment coming in to Southside docks on Thursday, and about a shoot-out between the Capone and Moran gangs that was going to happen in Kenosha, Wisconsin, also on Thursday.

  Those two little bits of information earned me a twenty thousand dollar reward, which I instructed them to send to Miss Alice Dodgson in Broken Bow, Nebraska.

  twenty six

  Everything was now in place to swing my little plan into action. The only loose end was Jitterbug. I still had no idea where the imp had gotten to and I could only hope he’d become bored with Chicago and made his way back to Hades Correctional to report in to Doppelganger.

  Of course, I still had to convince Fingers that hijacking a shipment of Al Capone’s hooch was a good idea. That was not going to be easy, seeing as Fingers’ idea of the big time was mugging old ladies and holding up the local drugstore for eighty dollars.

  It was already late, so I lie down on the bed to get some shut-eye. It had been an exhausting day and I had only two more days to close the deal with Fingers. That made me kind of sad. Not that I didn’t want to send Freddie ‘Fingers’ Finnegan back to the eternal damnation that he so richly deserved, of course I did. But I’d enjoyed my time in Chicago. When you’ve spent the last 26 months chasing unpaid bills, with a real demon for a boss, even double-crossing Al Capone was a vacation.

  And I’d also met some pretty interesting people, especially Mae and Alice, who were the kind of women that I could only dream about, even before my unfortunate plunge from the bungalow roof into the empty swimming pool.

  Before I knew it I was fast asleep, and I woke with the sun already streaming through the window. A glance at my watch told me that it was a quarter past nine, so I got up, washed and dressed and headed across town to Fingers place.

  This time the wannabe gangster was home and I could see his clapped out old jalopy parked at the curb.

  Buster ans
wered the door, seeming to fill the entire frame. “Well what do ya know,” he said. “We figured you was dead or on the lam or shacked up with some broad.”

  He led me into the kitchen where Fingers and Shep had a half empty bottle of booze in front of them and were already the worse for wear. Mae was nowhere to be seen.

  “Look who’s here,” Buster said as we entered the room.

  Freddie looked up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, “Capone’s man” he grunted. “Where you been while we been banged up in the big house?”

  “I been looking for you.”

  “We been taken downtown, edisoned, roughed up by the bulls, but we didn’t tell them nothin’. Did we boys?”

  “We told ‘em nothing,” Shep agreed.

  “Nothing,” Buster echoed.

  “So while the bulls been sweating us out, what you been doin’, tough guy?” Fingers sniggered.

  “I been setting up this job for us, a sweet deal…”

  “Forget about it,” Fingers said.

  “But boss, this is a real patsy, all we got to do is…”

  “Forget about it, I say. Unless you want the bulls swarming all over this place. They got an eye on us, in case you hadn’t noticed, big time. That’s why we need to lay low, figure out our next move then…Pour me another drink there, Buster, and one for my friend.”

  I could see my whole plan going down the tubes and I gave it one more try, “But boss this is really the easiest money you’re ever going to make, it’ll be like taking candy from a baby.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t eat no candy and I ain’t robbing no baby, so take a powder Sweeny Todd, we ain’t doing it.”

  Just then I heard the door open and close. “Here she is,” Fingers said. “My sweet chick-a-dee. Buster, pour little Miss Mae Berry a cocktail.

  “I ain’t drinking that coffin varnish,” Mae said. She walked into the room wearing a knee-length dress and a cloche hat and took my breath away. Mae took off her hat, threw it on the table, shook out a cigarette and lit up. To my disappointment she seemed hardly to notice me at all.

  “So what genius crime spree you boys cooking up now?” Mae said.

  “Mr. Big Time Johnny Black here says he’s got some patsy caper that’s going to bring us in lots of mazuma,” Fingers slurred.

  “I think you should listen to him. He’s the only one in this outfit with at least half a brain.”

  “That a fact,” Freddie sneered. “Well then how come I’m the brains of this outfit?”

  “Brains?” Mae laughed, “You got more looks than brains, Freddie and that’s saying something.”

  “I don’t take kindly to being called no fool.”

  “You ain’t no fool, Freddie. Foolish folks at least have the wherewithal to know when to keep their yaps shut. Let me clear up some fool ideas you’ve had percolating in that brain of yours. J. Edgar Hoover did not invent the vacuum cleaner, the Salvation Army did not fight at the Battle of Bull Run, and Al Capone is not Norwegian.”

  “Says you.”

  “No, says anyone, look it up.”

  “I won’t be spoken to like that by my girl.”

  “Here’s another news bulletin for you, Fingers. I ain’t your girl, never was, never will be. In fact, I’m Johnny’s girl.” Mae walked across the room, slipped her arm around my waist and snuggled into me.

  Now, I’m not going to tell you that it wasn’t pleasant having Mae holding me. And having her refer to herself as my girl, felt pretty good too. I just wish she’d have picked another time to do it.

  “You dirty rat, Black,” Fingers sneered. “I always figured you for a cake-eatin’ weasel. Get him boys!”

  Buster moved towards me, brushed Mae aside and grabbed me by the throat. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was Mae screaming, “Let him go! Let him go, you big oaf!”

  twenty seven

  When I came around I was tied to a chair, still in the kitchen, with Fingers and his boys on the other side of the table.

  “How much you got?” I heard Fingers say.

  “Twenty nine cents,” Buster said.

  “That’s eighty three cents between us,” Fingers said. “You check Mae’s purse?”

  “Uh huh, already thrown in.”

  “Rats, we’re still a couple a clams shy.”

  “We could roll a few drunks,” Buster suggested.

  “No time,” Fingers said. “Besides, we have to lay low.”

  “How about we hock some of this junk?” Shep said.

  “You crazy! My ma would turn over in her grave knowing I pawned her heirlooms.”

  It was quiet for a bit then Buster said, “You think maybe Black’s got some dough on him?”

  “Now you’re on the trolley,” Fingers said. “Check his pockets.”

  I heard Buster lumbering towards me and pretended to still be out. He rummaged through my pockets and lifted my wallet.

  “I think we got somethin’ here boss,” he said.

  “Bring it here,” Fingers demanded, then after a while, “Holy smokes! Our swanky young friend’s been doin’ okay for himself. There must be fifty bucks here.”

  “Let me get a gander, boss,” Buster said. “I ain’t seen so much folding money in a long while.”

  “No time for that now,” Fingers snapped. “I need you to go down to Fine’s Hardware and pick up two bags of cement. Shep, you go down to the basement and fetch the bucket. We gonna fit Mr. Johnny Black with a new pair of shoes. And he’s even paying for the hardware.”

  As the hoods hustled off to their allotted tasks I could hear Mae’s voice, “Freddie! Let me out of here. Let me out this moment, you hear!”

  “I’ll let you out when you’re ready to kiss and make up!” Freddie shouted back. To himself he muttered, “Dumb broad.”

  After a while I heard Shep clambering up the stairs and then Buster returning from the hardware store and dropping the cement to the floor with a dull thud.

  “Time to wake sleeping beauty here,” Fingers sneered. “Shep, you do the honors.”

  I felt myself being slapped lightly on the cheek and I opened my eyes before Shep decided he needed to up the velocity.

  “Attaboy!” Freddie said, “Now ya talking’.”

  Buster was already mixing up some of the cement in the bucket and Shep now started untying my laces, “Throw those duds over here,” Fingers said. “I could do with a new pair and Mr. Johnny Black ain’t gonna need them much longer. Buster, how you doin’ with that porridge?”

  “Almost done, boss,” Buster said, and then carried the bucket over and placed it in front of me.

  “Get your tootsies into that, Black,” Freddie giggled, “That way the little crabs and fishes won’t chew them off.”

  Shep lifted my feet and maneuvered them into the bucket. The cement was cold and lumpy, and squished between my toes and around my ankles. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant sensation but it got a lot worse once the cement began to set. Then it felt like my legs had been cut off at the shins.

  “What do we do now, boss?” Buster asked.

  “Now we wait for dark,” Fingers said. “Then we take Mr. Johnny Black for a little cruise.”

  twenty eight

  Over the next few hours, Freddie and his boys finished off another bottle of whisky while the cement hardened around my feet and Mae banged on the door and demanded to be let out. When it was dark enough Buster carried me to the car and sat with me in the back seat while Shep drove and Fingers rode shotgun.

  My plan was going to hell in a hand basket and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the game was up. Freddie and his crew were going to send me to the bottom of Lake Michigan and although I could probably make it back to shore, another miraculous escape by Johnny Black would be too much to swallow, even for a numbskull like Freddie Finnegan. He’d likely put two and two together and realize that Johnny Black was not what he seemed and he’d do a runner.

  Aside from Freddie going on the lam, there was t
he problem of Capone. By this time tomorrow he’d know that I had double-crossed him and I wanted to be long gone when that happened, even if that meant going back to Doppelganger and admitting that I wasn’t SPAA material after all.

  The car pulled up now to a dock and Freddie told Buster to go and find us a boat, while he and Shep stayed in the car with me.

  Freddie was in good spirits and was whistling a tune while Shep tapped out time on the steering wheel. “Why so glum, Black?” Freddie said, “It ain’t all bad, you got to rub shoulders with the next boss of Chicago, you got to spoon with my girl. All for fifty bucks and a pair of shoes, pretty sweet deal if you ask me. You just better hope you go to heaven. On no account do you want to end up in hell. Believe me, I been there and it ain’t pretty.” He chucked to himself and then resumed his whistling.

  I could now see Buster lumbering towards us like a bull elephant, “Boss,” he managed between heavy breaths, “I found us a ship.”

  The ‘ship’ Buster had found was a four man rowboat. I was placed in the hull, while Freddie and his men clambered aboard. Buster and Shep took the oars and started pulling us out across the water. The lake was calm tonight and there was no moon and I was reminded of a similar journey I’d once made across the river Styx. I looked back as the lights of Chicago drifted further and further away and realized how much I was going to miss it. If I’d been able to cry, I probably would have.

  “Okay,” Fingers said after a while, “This is far enough. Get him up.”

  Buster got cautiously to his feet bending his knees and using his arms for balance. Still the boat swayed dangerously side to side.

  “Careful, you klutz!” Fingers said. “Do you want to tip us over?”

  “Sorry boss,” Buster said, “Just getting my sea legs.”

  “Yeah, well can you get them a little bit quicker. Being out on the water in the dark gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Sure boss,” Buster said. This time he rose as slowly as a blimp becoming airborne, his arms outstretched, his face a study in concentration.

  “Attaboy,” Freddie said, “That’s what I’m talking about.”