by David Bishop
When the Rex’s turn came, the authorities tried to sneak seventeen unarmed plain-clothed officers aboard the Rex by mixing them in amongst the coming and going gamblers. Cornero’s bouncers recognized them and escorted them off the ship. Thereafter, Cornero refused to surrender the ship and denied Warren and Fitts and the police officers an invitation to board. The scuttlebutt being that the U.S. Coast Guard had advised Warren that the law of the sea required the agreement of a ship’s captain in order to constitute a lawful boarding. Without it, going onboard would be piracy. I have not confirmed that story, but it sounds right.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Mr. Cornero, the cops are still hanging around off our bow and stern. They’re doing nothing to suggest they’re preparing to leave.”
“Meaning what, Captain Stanley?”
“Meaning they have us surrounded, sir, like a damn wagon train headin’ west in the movies. Remember, we have no motor, no locomotion. Looks like about a dozen Fish and Game boats and a bunch of the rentable water taxis. What do you want me to do, Mr. Cornero?”
“With no engines to move the Rex, we have few options. In fact, at his point, we have no options, Captain Stanley. We hold our position. Deny the right to board. Barricade the runway. Ready the high-pressure seawater hoses. We shall not yield Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
I was topside, standing to Tony Cornero’s right, back against the wall on that deck. Tony turned to me and smiled.
“You got a ringside seat for this one, Scribe.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked coming up to stand beside him.
“We just beat them in court. The appellate court ruled our operation to be outside the state’s jurisdiction. They lack the authority to do lawfully what they are doing. I’ve got to go call my lawyers. Get an injunction against their unlawful act. Charge them with harassment or piracy, whatever. That’s what I got the legal mouthpieces for. Excuse me, Matt.”
I nodded and slapped Tony on the back as he passed by, then I headed back to our stateroom to bring Callie up on what was happening, and to make some notes for my column. When I walked into our stateroom, Callie was frantic. She continued pacing, her face an ever changing kaleidoscope of expressions. Her hands seemed to be everywhere at once. One hand covered her mouth before moving to her forehead. After that both hands were on her hips. Next, she began waving one or both in the air in gestures which appeared not to support anything in particular other than the need to burn excess energy. I went to her.
“Callie. Don’t be afraid. This will be resolved. I suspect soon, maybe in hours, no more than a day or two.”
“I know that. I don’t give a damn about that. Frances is here. I just saw her. She’s with a man. I think he’s that Johnny Breeze, the killer. I saw them from a distance, too far to be certain about him.”
Right then an announcement came over the ship’s communication system. The message reverberated into every room, every cranny of the ship.
“Your attention, all passengers and crew, this is your captain speaking. Our ship is under siege. We are surrounded by an armada of state and local police. We have denied them right to board and they currently control the entire fleet of water taxis. None are being allowed to reach our boarding platform. For the moment, this is a standoff which will prevent anyone from embarking or disembarking the S.S. Rex. We do expect this situation to abate, but we cannot say when. In the meantime, the ship’s owner, Anthony Cornero, has asked me to inform you that the tables are open for your enjoyment. All entertainers will perform as scheduled. Mr. Cornero asks that all passengers meet with him in the gambling casino in one hour. Crew shall continue with their duties which include being certain that all non-crew comply. Attendance is mandatory.
“Both Mr. Cornero and I understand this may cause some degree of inconvenience for you, but, please, we cannot answer your legitimate questions about when you will be able to leave the ship. We anticipate negotiations will begin at some point between us and the authorities who have unlawfully surrounded our ship. These negotiations have not yet begun and we cannot say when they will begin, beyond the logic that suggests such talks will start at some point. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. We encourage you to relax and enjoy yourself and think of this as an adventure. I shall see you all in the casino in one hour. Again, attendance is mandatory.”
When the announcement from the captain on the bridge ended, I returned to Callie. “Where did you see Frances? Are you certain?”
“I know my own sister, Matt. She’s here. They were coming down the hallway toward our room when I opened it to go out. I saw them turn the corner before I ducked back inside.”
“Did they see you?”
“No. They were looking at each other.”
“Do you know why she’s here?”
“No idea. To have a good time, I don’t know. Why does anyone come to a gambling ship? I assume their reasons are no more or no less than with anyone else.”
“Unless Breeze is here on a job, if so, Tony could be his target. I need to go, Callie. Tony needs to know that Johnny Breeze is on board.”
“May be on board,” Callie corrected. She walked to the porthole and looked out toward the floating patrol boats off the starboard side of the Rex.
“How sure were you that this guy is Breeze?”
“All but certain. My look was brief and mostly at Frances.”
“I need to tell Tony.”
* * *
“Tony. There’s something you need to know.”
“No time right now, Scribe. As you can appreciate, things around here are changing by the minute. The boats around us are not closing in. It appears the law of the sea is holding. No permission from the captain equals no right to board.”
“Make time.”
Tony saw the look on my face and came over to me, in close. “What is it?”
I turned slightly so my voice would not carry toward the others standing nearby. “Johnny Breeze is on board along with Callie’s wayward sister, Frances, who I’ve been told is now Breeze’s moll. Callie saw them. She’s not certain, but there’s no doubt about her sister being here, so likely she’s right about Breeze. You have to play it like he’s here.”
“Lots of people come on board.”
“Tony, this is not just some guy. Breeze is a top freelance gunsel. He could be holding a contract from Siegel or Jack Dragna. The cops could be involved tangentially. Breeze knocks you off and the cops job is to get him back on dry land. This would gain the politicians objective and the mobs. You’ve got to play this as real.”
“I agree. I’ve got Carter Mitchum on board for security. Will you fill him in? I can’t leave the bridge at the moment. I’m going to speak with all the passengers in a few minutes.”
I nodded.
“Mitchum’s in the security room, go inside, two doors to the left. And, how about coming on staff as my publicity man during this showdown?”
“Not officially. But I’m here so if I can do anything … of course.”
I visited with Mitchum until we both heard the captain’s announcement that all passengers should immediately come to the casino. As the ship’s head of security, Mitchum remained armed at all times. Several other members of his security team were armed as well.
* * *
Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony began, “I thank you all for coming and for your patience and understanding in this matter. No, we have not yet begun or even been asked to engage in discussions to break this impasse. I remain confident this will occur, however, there is, as of yet, nothing to report. When I know, you will all know.
“Now, in the meantime, while we wait and build upon this memory, I want you to know that the ship’s live entertainers will continue to perform. Our bars and restaurants will remain open just as they would have had this unfortunate event not been forced upon us. For the duration of … this adventure, all your food and beverages will be provided with my compliments. We have a well stocked storeroom so d
o not concern yourself with the availability of food and drink. Having said that, the bartenders and serving girls, as well as all other crewmembers have been instructed to deny the drink order of any passenger should that crewmember believe that passenger has had enough to drink. Captain Stanley and I will support the decisions of the crew on this matter. We must all keep a keen eye and a sharp wit. Thanks for your understanding.”
While Tony spoke, rather formally, Carter Mitchum and I watched Johnny Breeze and Frances Hopkins. The couple was sitting at a table in the approximate center of the room. The position of that table did not provide Breeze a good place from which to take a shot at Tony. As long as Breeze did not stand up and move forward, we were confident Breeze did not plan to assassinate Tony, at least for the here and now.
At one point, Callie began to walk toward Frances. When she did, her sister got up and headed out of the casino. Crewmembers posted near the door denied her access to the exit and ushered her back to her seat at the table occupied by Johnny Breeze.
Captain Stanley ended the meeting and approved the passengers moving about with the run of the public areas of the ship. Mitchum and I approached Johnny Breeze.
“Mr. Breeze, I’m Carter Mitchum. I’d like—”
“I know who you are, Mitchum, and I know Kile. What is this about?”
“We also know you, Breeze,” Mitchum said. “Know what you do. Why are you on board?”
“The advertisements that Cornero runs in Los Angeles invite the public to come aboard to dance, dine, and roll the dice. I’m part of that public.”
“That’s all there is to it?”
“That’s all there is to it.”
“Look, Breeze,” I interjected. “You’re a smart enough guy to know what we’re thinking. The people you have worked for would like Cornero out of business. Do you have a contract on Tony the Hat?”
“A contract? I’m sorry, Mr. Kile, I have no idea what you are referring to.” Breeze smiled, turned and walked away. Frances put her arm inside his and they walked out of the casino onto the outside deck. The wind was light, the temperature in the sixties. Frances had on a wrap. They turned and walked casually toward the bow of the ship.
Chapter Twenty-two
August 2, 1939. Day Two of the Siege of the S.S. Rex
I had not counted the number of boats which yesterday surrounded the S.S. Rex, but this morning there appeared to be even more boats bobbing in the water around the Rex than there had been when the sun went down yesterday.
I am still on the Rex, as is everyone who was here when the armada of small craft boxed in the Rex. Of course, boxing in the Rex is not difficult since it has no engine except to raise and lower the anchor. Hence, it would not be going anywhere with or without the Fitts-Warren siege. Think of your favorite movie with a wagon train heading west with no horses to move it and the Indians surrounding the wagon train without attacking. That’s what those of us on the Rex are living at the moment. Everyone seems to be expecting some progress, but so far talks have not been initiated, or even the prospects for having them been discussed.
The passenger count, including yours truly, has been estimated at approximately one thousand. Fitts and Warren control all the water taxis and small craft. I cannot imagine the authorities intend to prevent the citizenry from returning to their homes and places of employment. Yet, as of this moment, no steps have been taken to make it possible for people to disembark. I have spoken with Tony Cornero, the owner of the Rex, and Captain Stanley, the official headman of any vessel at sea. Neither of these men wants to delay the departure of any of the passengers. But without the water taxis controlled by the law, no passengers can get home. Eventually, the food and fresh water store of the ship will run out, but I expect, hope, this will be resolved before that point is reached. Then again, it is possible that Fitts and Warren are waiting for the food situation to become desperate enough that Tony Cornero must capitulate to whatever they demand. Beyond that, should you have family or friends on board, rest assured they are safe and well fed compliments of Tony Cornero.
I’ll release daily columns to keep you informed of the developments in this ongoing and evolving story.
Good night Mr. and Mrs. Los Angeles, and all of you ensconced along with me on the S. S. Rex. Matt Kile
* * *
After sending my column to the growing number of newspapers clamoring for at-the-scene, on-the-ship reports, Callie and I had breakfast with Tony and Carter Mitchum. Afterwards, we wandered out on deck. There were a couple of boats populated only by reporters from the local rags and the wire services. The newshounds were also growing in number. We were the sexy story and the reporters were watching, taking pictures, and hollering questions and answers back and forth with some people on deck. Being heard had become a problem. A growing wind was whipping up waves that sounded more like smacks than slaps when they struck the side of the Rex.
“Hey, Tony,” one of the writers yelled up to Cornero, who stood at the port side rail, “are you gonna surrender?”
“Surrender? That’s a laugh,” Tony replied. “I been told by the Coast Guard that no one can come aboard here unless they are invited by Captain Stanley. … We got plenty of provisions and all the folks on board are having a good time. I’m not worrying none.”
“Warren has called your passengers, ‘temporary prisoners.’ What do you say to that?”
“Prisoners? That’s another laugh, boys. These so called prisoners can leave anytime Attorney General Warren will allow the water taxis to come to the Rex to take my guests ashore. If they’re prisoners, it’s this Warren fellow who is keeping them in prison. You know they can’t walk home. My guess is Warren is back on dry land, sipping coffee, and watching this through binoculars. Tell ‘im I said this, boys. ‘Send out the taxis and all who wish to go ashore can take the ride back from this here federal water through California water, and skedaddle on home.’ ”
“We’ll see ya later, Tony,” one of them hollered up and the press boat pulled away from the side of the Rex.
Later that day, I spoke with the editor of the local paper who told me that the state had wiretapped Cornero’s phone and, as near as could be determined, had been listening to Tony’s calls for the past couple weeks. The only thing they had learned about illegal activities was that an illegal gambling operation was being run in the foreign consulate of the country of Luxemburg.
I shared that with Tony. He laughed. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I think that there operation is run by Bugsy Siegel. Why do you think I mentioned it while I was on the phone?” He laughed again.
After that, Callie and I played some gin rummy on deck, in an alcove away from the wind. Later we ate lunch, and then played cribbage. We sat at a table across from a woman we had watched shoot craps the night before, a woman with more than ample bosoms which had actively participated in her shaking of the dice. She was a prominent looking woman, not necessarily attractive or wealthy, just a large, confident woman with a well-arched nose.
Yeah, as you can tell, we were mostly filling time, I’d say just treading water, but that’s not a comforting thing to say when one is out to sea. In any event, we were waiting for something without knowing just what that would be or when it would come.
An hour later, our cabin steward told us that Mr. Cornero wanted to see me in his cabin as quickly as I could get there. His request was that I come alone.
Chapter Twenty-three
“What’s up, Tony?” I asked after shutting his cabin door behind me.
He led me into the adjoining room where I saw Carter Mitchum. He nodded. I did the same. No words from either of us.
“Do you know this woman, Matt?” While asking, Mitchum had pulled down the white sheet that covered what I knew too well to be a body.
I slumped a bit, scrunched up my lips and nodded. “Yeah, I know her. She’s Frances Hopkins, Callie’s sister.”
“I figured so,” Tony said. “That’s why I asked you to come alone. I’ll keep her
here for another hour in case Callie chooses to make her own ID. The cops will want her to ID her sister later for their purposes.”
I didn’t need to ask how she had died. Her throat had an extra hinge. It had been cut, a serious deep cut that ran most of the way across her neck.
“Who?”
“We found her in the hallway around the corner from her room.”
Frances, her skin now totally white, still wore the outfit she had worn last evening. Apparently, she had been killed late last night or in the early morning hours.
“Have either of you confronted Johnny Breeze?” I asked.
“No,” Tony said. “Breeze doesn’t seem to have a motive, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure reasons why he might have done it. We also want to ask him when he last saw her. Why hasn’t he reported her missing? Would you like to be in on it when we talk with Breeze?”
“Sure. When?”
“Two of Mitchum’s guards are escorting Breeze here right now.”
After we discussed the lack, so far, of any overture from the authorities, the door announced a knock on its outside. Mitchum pulled it open and in walked his two guards, Breeze between them. I watched Breeze the whole time while Mitchum asked him when he had last seen Frances.
“Last night. She stayed to gamble a while longer, slots. I came back to the room and fell asleep. This morning I knew right away she hadn’t slept in the bed. When I couldn’t find her I began searching the ship. I hadn’t finished when these two gave me no alternative but to accompany them here. What’s happened? What’s this about?”
