1929 Book 4 - Drifter

by ML Gardner

  “Ah. Kimberly. Tell me, what was that lead?”

  “Sal’s family lives there. I was asking them questions.”

  “Did you get your answers?”

  “They wouldn’t give up his address here.”

  “How long did you question them?”

  “An hour or so.”

  “So they wouldn’t tell you he was at the Stedman Funeral parlor, here in Boston?” He took a moment to watch me. I probably gave him the reaction he was looking for. “Why are you lying to me, Sloan?”

  I stared at him, every bit of infuriated.

  “Fred found Kimberly Weiss three days ago. Sal died in an overdose and she took off. Fred had been walking the streets looking for her. Doing your job. As luck would have it she ran smack into him.”

  “Well, that’s good for Kimberly, isn’t it?”

  “Why were you gone?”

  On to the next lie. “Personal reasons.”

  “You know you’re going to have to tell me where you were. We’ll have to check it out. You know how this works, Sloan.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You weren’t out of town, were you, Sloan?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “I don’t want to believe you did this, Sloan. I really don’t. But you have to give me something to go on here. Give me something to believe. Because right now, all I have is another dead officer and a detective who just happened to have a mirror copy of the kill list in his desk drawer at home and who just happened to be out of town when he died.

  I looked up, shocked.

  “Yes, Sloan, we searched your house.”

  I closed my eyes breathing slowly through my nose.

  “What did you tell Maggie?”

  “Nothing. We let her assume what she would.”

  “She doesn’t need this kind of stress.”

  “No, she doesn’t. So why don’t you tell me where you were so we can confirm it and let you get home.”

  “You have no intention of letting me go home. The special team didn’t come up with anything and you stumbled on this and everyone’s going to grab the torches. Tell me, Cap, how did you know I was gone?”

  “Fred told us. When he found Kimberly I told him to scramble over to your place. I knew you’d want to know right away. Where’d you get a copy of that list? I had that thing under lock and key.”

  “Fred got it for me,” I said with a big smile. I refused to believe Fred had folded and told them I was gone.

  “Well, for a skittish little rookie who’s afraid of his own shadow, Fred sure gets around, doesn’t he?”

  “Apparently he does.”

  “Fred didn’t give you that list.”

  “Fred didn’t tell you I was gone.”

  He smiled. “You’re right. Everyone is watching everyone, Sloan. Even the team on this case had no clue. It was my idea that this was happening from the inside when we moved the last two guys on the list to safe locations and they were killed anyway. I just never dreamed it was you.”

  “It wasn’t me.”

  “You’re going to have to make me believe it, Sloan.”

  “How would I know about the safe locations?”

  “Maybe you’re working with someone?”

  “You said I was on the list. Why would I put myself on the list?”

  “You’re the last one, Sloan. Why wouldn’t you put yourself on the list to throw us off? And more importantly, why would you have a copy of the list in your desk at all?”

  I grunted and dropped my head into my hands.

  “When you’re ready to talk, let me know.”

  He got up and left. The slam of the door echoed in my ears. I really needed to talk to Maggie, though I had no idea what I’d say. She was probably going through hell right now. God knows what she was reading in the papers.

  “You didn’t get to the part where you lied to your wife about another woman. Which I still can’t fathom. And what’s this about a list? When did your appendix rupture?”

  “I know. I got a little long winded about my time in New York. I’ll get to all that. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah. I am. But I want to hear more.”

  “I’ll finish after I get something to eat. It’s past lunchtime. The dining hall won’t be that crowded. Why don’t you come with me?”

  Aryl debated silently for a moment.

  “Look, you’re going to have to get used to being out in public again. In the daytime. It’ll be good practice.”

  “Alright,” Aryl relented. “But the next time we go out at night, let’s stay in our class. Too bad they don’t have steerage on this vessel. I have a feeling we’d have a better time.”

  “At least we wouldn’t be shown the door,” Sloan said, watching as Aryl slung the strap of his bag over his head.

  “I need to stop off first,” Aryl said, offering no more explanation than that.

  Sloan waited outside the restroom for him, leaning against the wall. It was a nice cruise liner. And the tickets hadn’t been that outrageously expensive. He had the thought to take Maggie on a trip.

  ***

  Sloan ordered a chicken sandwich with a side salad and coffee. Aryl nodded that he’d have the same.

  “Are you going to eat this time?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “I noticed you say you’re hungry but then you don’t eat. Why is that?”

  “I feel hungry. And then I take my medicine and I’m not anymore.”

  He shifted, trying to find the right words. “I’ll pay you back for all of this. The ticket, the food, whether I eat it or not…everything.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “Of course there’s a need. And I’ll pay you back.”

  “I thought you lost everything in the crash.”

  “I did.”

  “Then how can you pay me back?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I’ll find a way. You see, where I’ve been, you pay for everything. One way or another. I learned that early on at the warehouse.”

  Chapter Ten

  Paying Up

  I woke with the urgent need to pee. It was pitch dark and I fumbled around the room, looking for the door. I found it locked and wrestled with it for a moment, banging on it with my fist.

  “Hey! Anybody out there?” I waited, and banged again. When it became clear there was no one—no one that would open the door anyway, I began an excruciating dance with my bladder near bursting. Only the smallest splinter of light glowed from the bottom of the door. Squinting around the room, I could barely make out the edges of things and only the slightest change in light showed me the way to the window.

  I wiggled over toward it, jerked the hasp in the middle and threw it open. I yanked at my pants and sighed with relief, sending a stream of urine out the window. Leaning my head on the cool glass, I closed my eyes.

  Remnants of wild dreams floated around my mind. Places and things I didn’t understand. More storms, boats, and people yelling at me underwater, unable to decipher their words.

  With one bodily need attended to, I focused on another. Food. I heard the metal scrapings of someone messing around on the other side of the door and hoped Gina was bringing me food. And medicine.

  She slid the door open, flooding the room with light.

  “Oh good, you’re up.” She smiled and held out some folded clothes. “Change into these. Mickey’s wanting to see you again.”

  A flash of fear crossed my face and she laughed, mocking me. “Nothin’ to worry about. He just wants to talk. I’ll stay and hold your hand, if you like.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost two.”

  “How long have I—”

  “Nearly two days. Thought you were never going to wake up. The good news is no one seems to be looking for you. That’s taken Mickey off edge.”

  “No one?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Turn around, let me see your back.”

  I did and she lifted the bandage carefully
. She said it looked as it should and in any case, wasn’t any worse. I turned around, holding the clothes close.

  She grinned. “You want me to turn ‘round?”

  I nodded.

  “I forgot, you’re a modest one,” she teased and twirled around. “Sorry there’s no light in here. Most of us are up all night anyway and those that stay here have no need for a room light.”

  “Who stays here?” I asked, dropping my pants with a shiver.

  “Some of the guys who don’t have no other place. The girls make enough to have their own flat. Mickey don’t like them being here anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Case any of his men try to take advantage. He makes money on the girls but he don’t run a brothel. An’ he insists his girls are treated with respect. You done yet?” she asked, starting to turn her head.

  “Almost.” I struggled with the crisp linen shirt, such a contrast to my filthy surroundings. She turned around anyway, with a playful smile that dared me to tell her to turn away again. She stepped up and brushed my hands from the shirt, insisting on dressing me herself. I watched her while she worked, still unable to understand her.

  “After Mickey, then what?” I asked.

  She looked up. “I suppose you’re hungry?” she asked, touching my stomach. “We’ll eat and I’ll introduce you to a few of Mickey’s guys.”

  “I’m also hurting,” I said, still holding her eyes with mine. Her face changed, not quite disappointed, but bordering worry.

  “See, that’s what Mickey wants to talk to you about. I told you he don’t like ‘is men on dope.”

  “I’m not—”

  “I know,” she said. I realized she was holding onto the flaps of my shirt, down low. “I know you’re not. But Mickey don’t know that. You need it for pain and sleep. What I give you, it has to be our little secret, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “You have to promise me you’ll keep it secret same as you’re going to promise Mickey you’re not on the stuff anymore. And then I’ll give you some when we’re done, alright?”

  I nodded, still looking into her eyes, thinking them beautiful. I raised my hands to the ends of the shirt she held tightly. I pulled, trying to take them back. She didn’t let go. We did a silent tug of war for a moment, until she dropped her eyes, followed by her hands.

  She had a look of determination about her as we walked to Mickey’s office. The two big guys that stood outside his door moved, but not completely out of the way.

  “Mickey’s dealing with something right now.”

  “What?”

  “One of the girls was mistreated.”

  She elbowed past and opened the door. I followed, not knowing what else to do.

  It was Birdy, nicknamed for her rail thin figure and long pointed nose. She sat in a chair crying with Mickey crouched down in front of her, speaking in a hurried whisper. He held her hand, stroking it, urging her for answers. She shook her head furiously.

  “They’ll kill me, surely they will.”

  “I won’t let them, Birdy.”

  That was the only part of the conversation I could make out. I felt like I was intruding and Mickey confirmed that when he looked up, eying me.

  “What’s he doing here,” he spat at Gina.

  “You sent for him, remember?”

  He nodded, grunted and went back to concentrating on Birdy.

  Several long, frustrating minutes passed. I focused more on my various hungers than on the poor girl in the chair. The meeting, then food and medicine. That’s all I cared about right now and I wished I could speed through the first two and get to the last. At long last, Mickey waved for Gina to take her away.

  “C’mon love, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  When Birdy turned, Mickey mouthed the words find out to Gina and she nodded. Birdy passed without looking at me, huddled under Gina’s protective arm. Her eye was swollen and her lip crusted with blood.

  Mickey sat down at his desk and slammed his fist, rattling the lamp.

  “Damn animals,” he growled, pulling out a bottle and pouring a drink. I waited to be told what to do. With a fast tilt of the glass, Mickey closed his eyes, let it burn and motioned for me to sit down.

  “You may be wondering why I’m so angry.” He leveled his head, glaring at me. “After all, she’s just a whore, right?”

  I stayed intelligently quiet. “I’m pissed because I don’t let nobody treat my girls bad. They are the most spoilt whores in London. I pay ‘em well, they don’t gotta go with nobody they don’t want to or do nothing they don’t want to do once they’re with ‘em. And if they ever have a problem, they come to me, like Birdy did.

  “Except I do better than just listen and give ‘em a dose to make ‘em forget their troubles. If they’re mistreated in any way, it’s a sad chap that has to deal with me. But what burns me, what really burns me, is that this is known.”

  He held his hands out as if amazed. “Everyone round here knows you don’t give one of Mickey’s girls any shit. And yet, still…” He plopped his hands down on his desk. “Unbelievable.” He shook his head. “To mistreat one of my girls is to disrespect me. Do you understand that, John?”

  I nodded, crossing my arms, desperately wanting to leave. Just as I opened my mouth to ask why he wanted to see me, Mickey continued.

  “My mother was a whore.” He grinned and corrected himself. “A lady of the night,” he said with flair. “Had a good business until her looks ran out. I guess I got a soft spot for ‘em. Make sure they’re treated good. Sure, they make me money, but I’m not such a monster as to treat ‘em like livestock.”

  “That’s good of you,” I said, being the only thing I could think of to say, regardless of the fact that I found the whole topic revolting.

  “It is, isn’t it?” He cocked his head and smiled at me in a way I couldn’t decipher. “Like it was good of me to take you in.”

  I bobbed my head. “I appreciate that.”

  “Gina said you’re not hooked after all.” Finally, the meaning for the meeting.

  “I needed it for pain and sleep. That’s all. I’m fine.”

  “And she said you haven’t had a dose for two days.”

  “That’s true.”

  He scrutinized me, carefully watching my hands and eyes. No sweating, no shakes, no nervous twitches.

  “How’s your back?”

  “A lot better.”

  Mickey waited. I quickly picked up on what I should say next.

  “Thank you for…opening up the wound.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mickey relaxed back into his chair and smiled. “So, I’ve had my men’s ear to the ground and no one seems overly upset that you’re gone. No one from Scotland Yard or any of the competing business men across town.”

  “Business men?”

  “Chaps like me, just doing what it takes to get by in this world.” He smiled with false innocence. “So, looks like you were telling the truth.”

  “Of course I was.” Aching hunger made me impatient. I uncrossed my arms and moved them to my legs, splaying my fingers wide on my knees.

  “Alright, then. You stick close to me and we’ll start finding small jobs for you to do to earn your keep. You can stay in the room I’ve provided.” He waited expectantly for gratuity.

  “Thank you,” I said and made to stand.

  “We’re still watching you, John, so don’t make any mistakes, alright?”

  Before I could ask what might be classified as a mistake, Gina rushed in, looking as if she’d seen a ghost. Mickey stood, waiting.

  “It was one of Yurik’s men,” she said, breathless. A look of desperation crossed between them and Mickey slammed his fist again. He shook his head slowly, his lips pressed together.

  “What do we do?” Gina asked.

  “What has to be done. Ten times,” he said, resigned.

  “But, Mickey,” she said with caution.

  “Yurik knows the rules. They all know. And yet
he roughed her up anyway. He has to pay.” He shrugged, unable to see it any other way.

  I had a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “It could start a war,” she said dropping her voice.

  “Yurik is a reasonable man.”

  Gina looked as if she highly doubted this as Mickey walked past her and poked his head out the door. “Get the boys together for ten times,” he said to the men who stood outside, turning back on his heel.

  “You’ll go with us tonight,” he said to me as he passed.

  “Mickey, you think he’s ready for ten times?”

  “He needs to see what happens when you don’t follow the rules, inside this house or any other. And bring Birdy. We haven’t had to do this in awhile, but we’re not going to break tradition now.”

  He busied himself with grooming and Gina took me out. As we walked the corridor, Gina was deep with worry.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Still, I felt the need to comfort her, so she would comfort me. Sometime soon, I prayed as my legs ached.

  “A lot. This is one Mickey needs to let slide.” She chewed on her nail, weaving her way down the labyrinth of halls. “Yurik can be reasonable, true, but he’s also a lot like Mickey.” She lifted her eyes. “Not one to be trifled with.”

  “What was the list you talked about?” Aryl asked, eager to change the subject. While he had every desire to pay Sloan back, he had no idea how he was going to do it. “Your boss said you had a list. That made him think you had something to do with the murders.”

  “The guy made a list of cops he planned on killing. He left it for us to find. So every person that was on it would know he was coming for us.”

  “And you were on it?”

  “I was.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “It didn’t help my disposition, that’s for sure. And my disposition was already lousy, trust me. I think I might have been starting to lose it, to tell you the truth.”

  “Did you ever find the guy or is he still running around Boston.”

  Sloan fell quiet.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something?”

  “No. It’s fine. We did get him. I got him, actually.”