“Yes, I do.”
Hymie Holtzman didn’t speak at all, but his agate eyes were fixed on Jerry. Jerry ignored him and said, “Eddy, this is a little personal. Can we talk privately?”
“Oh, we’ll step outside.” Walt Stevens rose and left the room followed by Holtzman. As soon as they were outside, Holtzman said, “That’s bad news.”
“What is?”
“That guy—the pilot. He’s the one who flew me in from Detroit when I did the number on Ace Tanhauser.” His lips grew thin, and he looked toward the door. “He can put the finger on me, Walt. I’d better take care of him.”
“No reason for him to,” Stevens said slowly. He thought hard, then shook his head. “No, you’d better not hit him, Hymie. He’s the son of Amos Stuart—and you know how funny Nick is about that guy—him and that preacher brother of his.”
Holtzman said nothing, but a stubborn light fired his eyes. “All right, I’ll go easy on him. But I’ll send Tonk and Griffin around to give him a warning.”
Stevens shrugged. “Better make it clear that’s what it is, Hymie. Not a bad idea to watch yourself in these things—and a kid like that might need to be shook a little.”
Inside the office Jerry found a ready listener in Eddy. When he had explained the situation, Eddy said, “Hey, Kid, I’m glad you’re leveling with me and Nick. I’ll have a talk with Mario. Him and me—we hit it off pretty good sometimes. I think he’ll listen to me.”
Relief washed over Jerry, and he said, “I hope so, Eddy. Nothing against your brother—but it wouldn’t be good for him or my aunt.”
“Yeah, well, give me a shot at it, Kid. And keep in touch.”
“Right. Tell Nick I came by, will you?”
Jerry took Eddy’s clap on the shoulder and left the office. As he passed down the hall he met the eyes of Hymie Holtzman and had to restrain a shiver that went over him. There was a reptilian look about the man’s eyes, and the merciless mouth told him that Holtzman was thinking of the flight they’d made together. However, the squat killer merely followed Stevens into the office, and Jerry released a sigh of relief.
Holtzman waited until the meeting was over, then went at once to a back room where he found a poker game in progress. “Tonk—you and Griffin come with me.”
A burly man with a beetling brow looked up and groaned, “Aw, Hymie, I’m losing. Gimme a chance to catch up.”
“Shut up and come on, Tonk,” Holtzman grunted. He left the room, led the pair to an empty table in the bar, and said, “I got a job for you. Guy named Jerry Stuart . . .”
The pair listened carefully, then the taller of the two said, “What you want us to do? Ace him?”
“No, nothin’ like that, Griffin. Just rough him up a little, then tell him if he ever gets any ideas of remembering a little plane ride we took together, he’ll get worse.” He pulled some bills out of his pocket and handed them to the pair. “Don’t kill him—but rough him up pretty good.”
“Sure, Hymie,” Tonk grinned. He counted the bills, then stuck them into his pocket. “Where can we find him, Hymie?”
“He’s got an apartment someplace. Check at the airport. He flies the mail. They’ll give you his address. Remember, don’t rub him out or Nick will step on you.” The reptilian eyes were flat and seemed to have nothing behind the surface, and as tough as Tonk and Griffin were, they seemed to find something else to look at.
“Yeah, sure, Hymie,” Griffin said quickly. “We’ll do it right.”
As soon as Owen looked at Amos, he knew there was trouble. Owen had come to Chicago to speak at the Moody Bible Institute and had gotten a message that said, “Come to the paper. Amos.”
“What’s wrong, Amos?” Owen said. He’d found his brother behind his desk staring at the wall, but he knew this man. Behind the calm exterior he knew Amos was boiling with anger.
“It’s Jerry,” he said slowly, as if keeping a check on his temper. “He got beat up last night—and Christie got in on it.”
“What!” Owen had expected anything but this, and his eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” he said evenly. “What happened?”
“I wrote you about Christie seeing Mario Castellano. Well, Jerry feels responsible because he introduced them. He’s been stewing about it, so he finally went to talk to Nick and Eddy about it.”
“What did they say?”
“They don’t like it, Owen. You know how the Castellanos are about their family. They said they’d talk to Mario—but somehow it didn’t work.”
“You don’t mean to tell me Nick sent some thugs around to beat Jerry up?”
“Jerry says it wasn’t them. Says he talked to both of them, and they weren’t sore.”
“Who was it then?”
Amos lifted his eyebrows and said, “Two guys who do a little leg-breaking for the loan sharks. They work for Nick sometimes. Small-time hoods, but they did a first-class job on Jerry.”
“He’s hurt bad?”
“Couple of broken ribs and lots of cuts and bruises. He was taking Christie to the circus when the two of them got jumped.” Amos got to his feet and went to peer out the window thinking hard. “There’s something Jerry isn’t telling me, Owen. Those two guys don’t do things like this unless somebody pays them. Jerry got evasive when I tried to pump him.”
Owen bit his lip, disturbed by the thing. “I guess it has something to do with the time he flew booze for Nick.”
Amos nodded his agreement. “That’s my idea. But I’m worried that they might do something worse.”
“Did Jerry know them?”
“Sure, they work for Nick and Eddy. Their names are Tonk Denaro and Lew Griffin.”
Owen stared at his brother hard, then nodded. “I move we pay them a visit, Amos.”
Amos lifted an eyebrow cautiously. “They’re pretty rough boys, Owen. Maybe we should let the police handle it.”
“It’s family, Amos.”
Amos grinned widely. “All right, Reverend Stuart.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pistol. He checked the loads, gave the cylinder a spin, then got up and stuck it in his waistband. “Let’s have a nice chat with Mr. Denaro and Mr. Griffin.”
“Hey, Amos—and Owen!” Nick’s face broke into a smile as the two men walked into the room. He would not have smiled if it had been anyone else, for he was meeting with a roomful of his men. But he came at once to shake the hands of both men, turning to say, “Eddy, we got some company. Don’t be a stranger!”
Eddy had seen the faces of the two men and came slowly to greet them. “Hello, Owen,” he said quietly. “Good to see you. Amos—how you been?”
Amos had been sweeping the room with his eyes, and he spotted at once the two men Jerry had described. He glanced at Owen and saw that he’d discovered them, too. “Nick—we’ve got a beef with a couple of your boys.”
A bewildered look swept Nick’s face. “A beef with my boys? What’s the trouble?”
Owen moved quickly to stand in front of Tonk, who stood up at once. He was a brute of a man with bulging arms and the misshapen ears of a prizefighter. “I’m going to have to put you down, Tonk,” Owen said pleasantly.
The silence that dropped over the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tonk blinked with surprise, then said, “I don’t have no squawk with you.”
“You broke my nephew’s ribs. I’ve come to talk to you about that.”
Nick burst out, “Owen, you’re wrong!”
But Owen had already moved. He had only one hand, but when he moved his left it blurred so fast it caught Tonk in the mouth and drove him backward. He hit the wall, careened off it, then came roaring back, all his old prizefighting instinct aroused.
Owen ducked the thunderous right hand that Tonk threw at him and from a crouch, unleashed every bit of strength into a left that started in his right foot, ran through his body, and exploded in Tonk’s side. The blow made a muffled thud, and Tonk cried out and fell to the floor gasping with pain.
“Hold it, Griffin!”
>
Owen turned to find Amos holding a gun on the tall form of Griffin who had a pistol half pulled from a shoulder holster. Amos said gently, “It’s not a good idea, Griffin.” He waited until the man’s face turned pale, and he held his hands away from the gun. “Second thoughts are usually best,” Amos said quietly.
Eddy said immediately, “Let’s get easy here—no trouble!” He had seen several of his men reaching for their guns, but his command steadied them. Turning to Amos and Owen he shook his head. “This is nothing to do with Nick and me. Whatever those two did, they didn’t get any orders from us.”
Nick stared at Tonk, who was getting slowly to his feet. Then he said, “Everybody out—except Tonk and Griffin.”
At once the other men left the room, and Nick moved over to stand in front of the two men. Both of them were wide-eyed with fear, and Tonk gasped, “It wasn’t our fault, Nick.”
“How come you roughed up the kid?” Eddy broke in. Anger drew him up stiffly, and he came to put his face inches away from that of Tonk. “Who paid you, Tonk?”
Tonk was afraid of Nick and Eddy—but he was even more afraid of Hymie Holtzman. “I . . . I can’t say, Nick—not with them two in the room.”
“It was a private beef, Eddy,” Griffin said quickly. “We thought you knew about it.”
“Who ordered the hit?” Nick grated, and when the two hesitated, he stepped forward and struck Tonk a powerful blow in the side. Tonk screamed and fell to the floor, and Nick pulled a gun from his pocket and held it to the temple of Griffin. “Tell it—or die!” he grunted.
“It was Hymie!” Griffin cried. “Don’t shoot, Nick!”
“Hymie?” Nick asked. He lowered the gun and stared at the pair. “Get out of here,” he snapped. He waited until Griffin pulled Tonk to his feet gasping with pain and left the room. Then he replaced the gun and turned to face Owen and Amos.
“I swear I didn’t know anything about this, Amos,” he said. “I like Jerry, always have.”
Eddy nodded quickly. “Let us work on it. Whatever it was, we’ll see to it that Jerry won’t be touched again.”
Owen said slowly, “Eddy, you and I went through a war together. You give me your word you had nothing to do with this?”
“You got my word!”
“Amos, we been friends a long time,” Nick said slowly. “I know we ain’t got the same ideas—but I always respected you. And I’m tellin’ you I had no idea that a thing like this was happening. I’d have squashed those two like bugs if I’d got a hint of it.”
“What about this fellow named Hymie?” Amos asked.
“I’ll take care of him,” Nick said grimly. “Let me pump him. I’ll find out what’s in his craw. And I’ll see to it that he don’t ever touch any of you again.”
It was a tense moment, but finally Amos relaxed. “Your word’s good enough for me, Nick.”
Relief came to the lips of Nick Castellano, and he took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. His hands were not steady, and he stared at them. “Look at that!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think there was anything in the world could make me do that!”
Owen stood solidly, watching the two men. “Nick, I remember the time you saved Allie’s life.”
Nick flushed, but he had pride in that one thing. “She’s a fine lady, Owen, that wife of yours.”
“She prays for you every day.”
Nick dropped his head and seemed struck dumb. The silence ran on, and finally he lifted his eyes. “I guess I can use it more than most, Owen. My thanks to her.”
Amos spoke up. “This is bad, Nick. I don’t believe you and Eddy were involved—but look at what happened. Two of your men hurt a boy who’s trying hard to find his way. I love my son just as you love Mario. Think how you’d feel if he got hurt.”
“I’m sorry, Amos.”
“I know you are—but it happened. And our sister, even she got a bruise or two trying to help Jerry. I remember when I came to live with your family, the first thing you ever said to me was, ‘Don’t do anything to my sister or I’ll lay you out!’ Remember that?”
Nick stared at his friend. “I remember, Amos—and I’m shamed that your sister got hurt. I’ll see that it don’t happen again.”
“But that’s just what you can’t promise, Nick,” Amos said, sadness in his tone. “You’ve got money and power, but you live by violence. And you can’t contain violence. It’s impossible!”
“Amos is right, Nick,” Owen nodded. “Look, you’re one of the smartest men I ever knew—you, too, Eddy. You two would be successful at anything you tried. Why don’t you just walk away from all this? It’s only going to make you miserable.”
Nick stared at the tall minister. “It’s not that easy, Owen.” He seemed to search for words, failed, then shook his head. “I’m sorry it happened.”
“Sure. Come on, Amos.”
When the two men left the office, Eddy said thoughtfully, “Do you think we could make it on the outside—go legit?”
Nick stared at Eddy and shook his head. “We got to go on, Eddy. No way out for us.” Then anger touched his eyes. “Go see Hymie, Eddy. And if he gives you any trouble, write him off!”
LAST PASSAGE
Hello?”
“Lylah, this is Amos—” Instantly Lylah knew that something was wrong. Amos’s voice was thick, and he said, “It’s Pa—he’s had a heart attack.” Coldness closed like a fist around Lylah’s heart, and she asked, “How is he?”
“He . . . can’t make it. Logan just called. He said if we wanted to get there before Pa died, we’d have to get there right away. It’s a long way for you—”
“I’ll fly out as soon as I can get someone to make the flight.” Her voice broke, and she said, “If I don’t get there in time, tell Pa I love him.”
“I’ll tell him, Lylah . . .”
“There it is—right over there.”
Jed Hoskins looked over the cockpit at the weather-beaten house, then searched for a field or a road to land on. He spotted a field—the same one that Jerry had chosen when he’d come for Christie. “Hang on, lady—this might be a little rough!”
Lylah shouted back, “I’m okay,” then watched as the earth tilted up. Hoskins made his turn, cut the engine back, and brought the small plane in for a perfect landing. He hopped out of the plane and reached up to help the woman down. When she came to stand in front of him, he said, “You’re a good passenger, Miss Stuart. That was a pretty hard flight.”
Lylah put her hand out and smiled briefly. “I needed your help, Jed. I’ll never forget it.”
“Sorry about your dad. Hope he makes it. I’ll go into Fort Smith. When you’re ready to go back, leave word at the airport.”
He pulled Lylah’s luggage out of the plane and looked up to see two men coming across the field. “Guess your menfolks will take care of these.”
“Yes, thank you, Jed.” She handed him an envelope, saying, “There’s a bonus in there—and I’ll pay you for the time you spend here.”
“Thanks, Miss Stuart.”
The pilot climbed into the plane and waved, then swung the plane around and took off. Lylah turned to meet Amos and Logan. Both of them embraced her, and then she asked, “How is he?”
Logan shook his head. “He’s just barely making it, Lylah. I think he’s holding on just to see you and Owen. He’s already said good-bye to the rest of us.”
Amos picked up the suitcase, then took Lylah’s arm. “Come on. You need to go to him.”
The three made their way back to the house, and as they approached, Lylah looked around. “I couldn’t wait to get away from here once—now I can think of all the good times we had together.”
“Always like that,” Logan nodded. “Why do we have to get older before we learn that?”
Lylah entered the house and met Agnes, who had come out of the kitchen. “Hello, Agnes,” Lylah said. She had never liked the woman, for Agnes had not made life easy for her father—nor for any of them. Just how much love Agnes
had for her father Lylah didn’t know, but it was not a time to quarrel. “It’s a bad time. How is he?”
Agnes gave Lylah a nervous look, as if expecting to be blamed for Will’s illness—but when she saw there was no malice in her stepdaughter, she seemed relieved. “He’s been feeling bad for a month—or longer. But he wouldn’t go to the doctor.” Her face worked, and she added, “He went out to do the milking Tuesday morning, and when he stayed so long, I went to see about him.” Twisting her hands together, she hesitated, then whispered, “He was laying on the floor, and I thought he was gone. But he came out of it, and I got him to the house. But when Doc Smith came, he said it wasn’t no use. I . . . I did the best I could, Lylah!”
Lylah touched the woman’s shoulder, the first time she’d ever done such a thing, and said, “I’m sure you did, Agnes.” She saw the gratitude in the woman’s eyes and said, “I’d better go see him.”
“He’s been asking for you. Go on in, and I’ll fix something to eat.”
Lylah paused to greet Peter, who’d just arrived from Oklahoma, and Gavin. He’d hired a plane and flown Christie and Lenora in from Chicago, along with his wife and new son, Phillip. “Owen’s on his way,” Gavin said, after embracing Lylah. “Go on and see Pa.”
“All right, Gavin.”
She entered the room and found her father awake. He was propped up in bed against a bank of pillows, and his eyes lit up when he saw her. “Daughter!” he whispered, and she ran to fall into his arms. He held her as she fought back the tears, her face pressed against his cheek. When she drew back, her tears ran down her cheeks.
“Glad you made it, Lylah,” Will said, his voice thin and reedy. “Wasn’t sure I could wait.”
“Owen’s coming, Pa,” Lylah said. Her throat was so tightly constricted that she had trouble speaking.
Will Stuart had always been a fine-looking man, and he still had traces of those looks. His eyes were clear and his hair was silver, but his face was pinched and drawn. It hurt Lylah to see the weakness, for he’d been a man proud of his strength.
One Shining Moment Page 20
