Black Shadows

by Simon Swift

  Stan smiled a cold, dead smile. "Errol you're a private eye. How did a man like you get involved with the phantom?"

  I shrugged.

  "Still don't want to tell me, hah? I don't blame you, there's a lot of things I wouldn't want to tell you. Did I tell you that I checked you out?"

  I nodded. "You did," I said calmly, although I felt anything but calm.

  "One thing I noticed," he continued, "is that people close to you have got into a habit of getting killed. Rather an unhealthy habit; your boss, your ex partner and of course your very good friend, Liam Tighe." He paused ever so slightly before continuing: "I'm sure there were plenty killed in Guadalcanal. And now you want to start killing people, yourself."

  "It's like I told you, if I don't kill him he has me killed. It's that simple."

  Stan sighed. "You ask for a lot, Errol, you know that? But if you don't ask you don't get. I like you, I like you a lot but if you're going to be the man that makes my little Claudie happy you're not the man that shoots villains down in cold blood. Do you understand what I am saying?"

  Stan patted me on the shoulder, but it wasn't a friendly pat. "I'm sorry Errol. You're going to have to give him what he wants. I cannot and will not sanction a killing that may have unforeseen consequences for my own and many other families. I repeat you are going to have to give him what he wants."

  "And if I can't?"

  Stanley Cortene turned to face me. It was the first time that evening he'd looked me in the eye, and the last time he ever would. "You will not kill the Coward. Do you understand Errol, you will not kill the Coward?"

  I nodded at the don.

  "And similarly, he will not kill you, or arrange to kill any of your friends."

  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a card. "Errol, I'm going to give you a telephone number. Call it any time of night or day. I want to know a little information. When the phantom leaves you tomorrow, call it! If you come good there will be a nice nest egg for you and my niece, something that will give you two a great start in life together."

  He held out his hand and I shook it firmly.

  "Goodbye Errol Black, you look after Claudia, you hear me. It would be a real shame for us to meet again in different circumstances, a real shame."

  And at that he turned around and slowly walked away. His stocky frame disappearing slowly into the distance. The elevator doors closed and it would be the last time that I would see Stanley Cortene.

  I waited ten minutes further before entering the elevator myself. I was now sure he wasn't coming back and that I was in the clear. For the time being anyway. Stan had failed to kill me once again and so I rightly thought we had an understanding. That all the talk of honor and debt was true, not simply a movie myth. If, however Claudia did not return soon I would be sure to be paid a visit. A debt of honor would go so far, but the disappearance of one's niece would certainly override it. I took a last breath of night air before descending down into the city below.

  I drove back to the hotel. It would be my last night there. Tomorrow I would be back at my flat in the Bronx. The case that had dominated so many lives over the last few weeks would be over. The ghost of Dyke Spanner would eventually be laid to rest one way or another. Timmy Matthews would probably get a promotion, the Coward would get his comeuppance, Weeny Jung Ping would be released in a blaze of publicity ...and Errol Black PI? I would either be very rich or very dead.

  I made two telephone calls; one to a house in Chinatown, the other to an old friend of mine. That would be my insurance. I hoped to god that I would not need it but the way things were going I wasn't sure. The day had been a long one. Most of the required jobs had been accomplished. Everything was set up for tomorrow night, apart from one major detail. The meet with Stanley Cortene had gone reasonably as planned. The big setback was of course the news from Ava.

  I sat back in the Short Bar, listening politely to the English couple who insisted on sitting at the same table. They had pulled up a pair of seats, claiming I was looking a little sad and lonely. The man, an ageing, portly chap with no hair had spent the whole of the last hour telling me about the marmalade business. He was the Managing Director of an important marmalade company. They were visiting New York for the annual conference. For over an hour, he had explained in intricate detail the inside workings of marmalade administration.

  But I hadn't heard a word of it. My mind was firmly on Claudia and whether my meet with Stan had been a waste of time. A spectacular waste of time. I was in no doubt that the letter Ava had found was the one that had disappeared. The envelope was the same, the writing being identical. Had Claudia taken it intentionally without telling me? Was she secretly planning to run away with my dissatisfied partner, using the bequest as finance? Was she the reason that I had felt so rotten that night? Had she poisoned me to make sure she would be able to make the switch unseen?

  I almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the questions that kept popping into my head. There was no chance that any of them were true, that much I was sure. But I couldn't shake the feeling of maudlin that had crept over me. Just where had they disappeared to?

  "Another drink, Eezy? On Mozza's marmalade of course."

  "Yeah, sure. Thanks Ian."

  "No problem at all squire, no problem at all."

  "Sante!" said Ian, holding up his glass. "That's French you know," he whispered as if a state secret. "We have to be able to speak a dozen languages in marmalade you know."

  Suddenly the bar broke out into music. Ian leapt to his feet and began to dance with Mrs. Robinson. The rest of the inhabitants of the Short Bar joined in also. Nobody seemed sure just what they were dancing but gave it a good attempt anyway. My thoughts of Hermeez and Claudia were interrupted by young Miss Robinson. She grabbed my arm and pulled me as hard as her minute frame would allow, in the direction of the frolicking marmalades.

  "Come on, Eezy. I promised a whole crate of Mozza's for this song. Thought it would cheer you up!"

  Ten minutes later, I sat back down, exhausted by the gyrating and moving of the smitten teenager. Once again my thoughts went to Claudia and Hermeez. Any minute now they'll stroll through that door. Big grins filling their cheeky faces. All smarmy and pleased with themselves, sure they'd taught me a real lesson. Alternatively they might be on a flight out of here. Arm in arm, with only a small bag each and of course a box.

  I shook my head violently, as if to shake the thought away. It simply wasn't worth contemplating such an outcome. The loss of my girl, my best friend and the diamond all in one foul sweep. And to cap it all it would probably finish off with the loss of my own life.

  I remembered how Hermeez had been acting these last few days. Easily irritated when kept in the dark and so anxious to know what was in the envelope. He had been sloppy, making blunders which were totally out of character. Added to this was his secretive behavior regarding Marcia and Muchado. Just what had he been hiding? He wouldn't trade friendship for the diamond, would he?

  Ian 'Mozza' Robinson slumped back in his chair, laced in sweat. "Bloody great that Eezy, bloody great." He again leaned over to me, his putrid stench following him. "You're gonna have to watch it buddy, I reckon young Matilda there's got an eye on you." He then let out an appalling guffaw before singing out loudly, drowning out the pianist.

  I waited patiently in the Short Bar for a further two hours. Enduring three more jaunts to the dance floor with the increasingly hopeful marmalade heiress. Eventually I decided to retire quietly to the quarters of my room. It was my third and final night in the hotel and only one of them had been spent with Claudia. There was still no sign of her, and no sign of my best friend. Maybe they would be waiting for me in the suite? It was a rather hopeful thought, but I clung to it eagerly nevertheless.

  The elevator ride elapsed quickly and soon I was stood outside my room for the last time. I fitted the key in the hole easily this time and turned. Expectation was quickly dashed as I pushed open the door to find an empty suite. The mi
ni bar was sickeningly full, the bed neatly made up and the towels replaced for fresh ones.

  I sighed deeply and slumped into a comfortable chair. The drapes were open and once again, the beautiful view of Liberty Island was on show. I took off my hat and tossed it aside. Ten minutes later I put it back on, pulled on my coat and headed out into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight – Laying to rest

  As I sat on the boardwalk watching the waves lashing the rocks, I considered that my life had come full circle. Since I witnessed the death of Dutch Schultz ten years ago and subsequently turned my back on any form of mob work I had simply been treading water. It may not have been my choosing, not in the beginning, but the facts were there to see. I was now back right where I started, only this time I didn't have Terry Shadow or Dyke Spanner to fall back on. I had to face it, I was mobbed up to the eyeballs whether I liked it or not.

  Tomorrow I was going to meet a notorious gangster with the intention of selling him a priceless gem. I was going into the meet with the official sanction of an even bigger gangster. If I couldn't get that gem then it was sure to end in a bloodbath and even if I did, the ending was unlikely to be a happy one.

  I never had any intention of killing the Coward, but then that wasn't really the point. I simply wanted to test the water and thankfully, Stan Cortene had come up trumps. He had given me a license to get out of this whole mess without getting myself killed. So long as I could come up with the Flegenheimer Diamond.

  As far as the diamond went, I really was right back where I started. I never got my hands on it in '35 and it was starting to look like I would never get my hands on it now. I couldn't blame Claudia for wanting to find out about her bequest, but it all contradicted what she had said earlier. Hell we all had a right to change our minds, I was well aware of that, but did she have to do it at such a crucial time? And did she have to take on my partner with her for company?

  It struck me that all I wanted was for this to all be over. To forget about the diamond, the Coward, Dyke and all the rest of it. Then I could disappear with Claudia and we could be married and have children and live happily ever after. It was a fanciful thought but one that I was going to cling to until things were proved different.

  I lit up a Lucky and watched the birds on the water. It amazed me just how they kept such a perfect formation without talking to each other. If it was humans there, they would need a good coach and several years of choreography classes before they could take to the air so gracefully and beautifully. One squawked from miles away and suddenly they all took off in one swift movement, gliding through the air in a perfect v shape, getting smaller and smaller as they headed out to sea.

  I stubbed my Lucky out on the beach and pulled the urn from my jacket. I had collected it an hour earlier from my office safe before driving over here. It was almost two in the morning but it felt like the right time to do it. Dyke never paid too much attention to the conventions of day and night and so I don't think he would have worried too much about being cast into the sea with only the moon and a few seagulls to watch over him.

  I took off my shoes and socks and rolled up my trouser legs to just above the knees. There was a crisp breeze blowing off the ocean but the temperature was mild. Holding the urn in one hand and my hip flask in the other, I padded down the beach and waded slowly into the waters stopping for a swig of brandy from the flask at regular intervals.

  In a way, I was a little proud that Dyke had wanted me to be the one to send him on to the next world. Whatever had happened between us we had once been friends, close friends with a great deal in common. We were both men with great ambition and a will to succeed that highlighted our flaws as human beings. We were both selfish sons of bitches with a phobia about commitment and a disliking of soft cheese. Somehow we had both got caught up in this thing without really wanting to and without knowing just how to get out of it. Dyke no longer had a choice, but I did.

  The water lashed at my ankles and I thought I heard a car pulling up on the road that was set back from the beach. I searched out through the darkness with my well-adjusted eyes, but saw nothing.

  I thought back to Marlow's story and wondered just how much of it was true. I could easily see just how Dyke had been taken in by her, she was a very persuasive lady. Apart from a few timely pieces of luck, I too would have been taken in. She operated with an effortless ease and it was only my gut instinct in emptying her handgun that had kept me alive. I figured that most of what she told me that night was probably true. It made sense and if I had have been in possession of the diamond she would have got exactly what she wanted. She was desperate to tell the story to someone and who better than the person that you are going to kill in the morning. You get the satisfaction of telling the whole tale without the danger that arises from coming clean.

  The Coward, on the other hand, had been less than truthful right from the beginning. It was clear that he had attempted to set me up for Dyke and Woo Wang's killings to blag me for the diamond. When this didn't go to plan he hedged his bets further by enticing me to Woodstock to kayo Marlow and strengthen his hand so that he would no longer be offering a large wedge but would be offering me life, rather like an old Roman Emperor. When that too failed, he came up with the cash, but I was in no doubt that he would expect to take it from my bleeding corpse at a later date.

  The water was now up to my knees and the hip flask was empty. I put it back in my pocket and turned around so I was facing the beach. The boardwalk seemed a long way off with a mass of black, foaming water to cross between me and it. Its dimmed lighting, that was covered with bugs and moths, shone out in the distance. I thought I saw another flash of light out there; a torch maybe or the burning ember of a cigarette, but it disappeared as soon as it appeared and I put it down to my imagination.

  I turned back around and faced the ocean. Trying to remember a few words of comfort or religious salvation my mind went blank. Instead, I said a little prayer of my own and unscrewed the top of the tiny urn. I looked inside and smiled. "Goodbye old friend," I murmured aloud, holding the urn out high above my head.

  It was then that I felt a warm sensation on the back of my neck. I turned around, broke into a great big smile and launched the urn and its contents high into the air. The ashes were scattered all around us, there was a loud very audible plop followed by a glint of light and a smaller less audible noise.

  Five minutes later, we were back on the beach, wet from head to toe and now shorn of our clothes. We made love silently under the moonlight and kissed each other all over for what felt like days and days but was in fact only hours. When it was time to leave, we did so in her car, which was waiting on the roadside.

  Chapter Twenty- Nine – The Flegenheimer Diamond

  I slept for most of the next day, getting up only to eat, shave and bathe myself. It was a long time since I had indulged myself in such slovenly behaviour but it felt good. My body felt refreshed and invigorated and ready for anything.

  Evening soon arrived. And what a beautiful evening it was. There was a sensational sunset emblazoned across the sky. Slowly the blazing orb disappeared from view leaving the clouds stained orange and red. It shone out warmly, halting the swift onset of dusk, keeping the day alive a little longer.

  The avenues were busy. I had been driving for almost an hour, with my mind wandering throughout. All the time the descending sun caught my attention, leaving its incredible trail behind. Nothing could be more mesmerizing than the unstoppable, perpetual collage that was forever left in its wake.

  I parked up my heap, routinely locked her up and headed up a short graveled path. I was outside a small, but well kept detached house. There was a small tidy stretch of lawn at the front and a bright red door awaiting me. A big doorbell was affixed to the wooden door, inviting guests to press its gold button. I duly obliged before checking my watch. It was nineteen hundred hours.

  There was a clattering from inside, followed by a quiet expletive. The door was opened and I was face
d by an attractive, but overly made up woman. She was a good height, maybe five six with bleached blonde hair. Golden earrings dangled from her delicate ears and she wore long false nails. My eyes lowered down to her slim, shapely body, covered by a tight figure hugging dress. She had large jutting breasts complimented by a waist as thin as your wrist.

  "Errol, how good to see you!" she exclaimed in her Southern trawl, throwing her arms around me. "Come in."

  "Thanks Maggie, you're looking great," I replied, and I meant it. For a recently widowed lady on her way towards middle age Maggie Spanner looked truly superb.

  I was shown into the well-kept house and the door was closed behind us. The hallway was heavily decorated; a thick carpet comforted the feet, whilst the walls were adorned with a mixture of artistic images and framed parchments. All of which were courtesy of the late Dyke Spanner, a keen amateur artist and common winner of investigative accolades. We made our way through the hallway and into the large living room. The venue of many coffee mornings, gossip exchanging circles and of course Maggie's beautician services.

  I took a chair by the window, whilst Maggie went to the drinks bar. Peering through the semi drawn drapes, I satisfied myself that we were alone, and sat back.

  "I was starting to think you were avoiding me, honey," came the familiar, overfriendly voice of my chosen host.

  I reached and accepted the glass she held out, before sitting herself on the edge of the three-seat sofa. "You know me Maggie. Always throw myself into the case. I couldn't afford any added complications." I smiled. "You always knew I'd come back."

  "I was surprised to get your call all the same. It's been three weeks since Dyke died and I've not heard a peep."

  "I'm sorry about that, sweetheart. How are you shaping up?"

  "Oh I get by. I suppose I half expected you to keep a low profile for a while. It may seem strange to others but it makes perfect sense to me. Don't think I'm putting a guilt trip on you Errol, I didn't expect you at his funeral and I do understand. You've been good to me, real good. I guess two funerals in the space of a fortnight are pretty hard going and I have to say this was the least upsetting of the two."