The Savage Son (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 6)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  "I'm inviting you and Carter to dinner on Christmas Day." I nearly dropped the phone.

  "What?"

  "Dinner. Christmas Day. Be here at noon. And don't be late." With that, the line went dead. I stood there, dripping on the rug, and looked at the receiver.

  "What?" asked Carter.

  "We've been summoned."

  "When?"

  "Christmas Day. Noon. And we're not to be late."

  Carter walked up behind me. He took the buzzing receiver out of my hand and put it on its cradle. Then he pulled me in from behind and kissed my neck, which made me feel better.

  . . .

  The next time the phone rang it was Robert.

  "I talked to Mrs. K. She says the boiler is set as low as she can set it. The only ones complaining about it are in 5-F, the other apartment on the fifth floor. She just tells them to open the windows."

  "So, the Kopeks don't say anything about it?"

  "Far from it. She said Mrs. Kopek loves it. We had the boiler fixed back in August. That was when you were in Georgia. Before then, it wouldn't always stay on."

  "Call your guy and have him go out and take a look at it."

  "Will do, Boss. Anything else?"

  "That's it." I put the phone back on the receiver.

  Out of nowhere, I had a hunch about something. It didn't make any sense, but I thought I'd give it a try.

  I picked the phone back up and called the office. Marnie answered.

  "Hiya, Nick!"

  "Hiya, doll. Got something for you to run down for me. Gotta pencil?"

  "Sure. Go ahead."

  "Ask Robert to find out where in Czechoslovakia the Kopeks are from."

  There was a pause. "The who from where?"

  I laughed. "He'll know what I mean. Have him call the building manager where they live. It's the building with the boiler problem that I was just talking to him about."

  "Right. Then what?"

  "Then call the reference desk at the main library and see if they can tell you about that town, where it is, and what happened there during the war. I don't know what I'm looking for. It could be anything. The Kopeks came to America in '35 and my guess is that whatever I'm looking for happened after that and before '45."

  "OK." She sounded hesitant.

  "What's up?"

  "I just... Well…" She paused. "Truth is, Nick, I feel like such a dope when it comes to things like this."

  I laughed. "Why don't you just delegate?"

  "Delegate?"

  "Sure. Ask Robert to do it."

  Marnie giggled. "Yeah. I think I will. Thanks, Nick." With that, the line went dead.

  . . .

  The third call of the day came as Carter and I were talking about Christmas on Nob Hill. I was irritated, so he grabbed the phone.

  "Yeah. He's here." He covered the mouthpiece and smiled at me. "It's your new boyfriend. Says his name is Sam."

  I rolled my eyes, walked over to the phone, and took it from Carter. "Yeah?"

  Carter leaned in close. I pulled the phone away from my ear.

  "Mr. Williams?"

  "Yeah?" I could hear the clanging bell of a streetcar along with cars and trucks honking from wherever he was.

  "This here is Sam. We met this morning at Sugar Joe's. You gave me your card."

  "Sure. What can I do for you?"

  "You told me to call you if I saw Ike the Polack again."

  "Yeah."

  "Well, I'm at a phone booth on Market near Taylor and I just saw him. He was ducking into a store."

  "What was the store?" Carter picked up the pad and pencil we kept next to the phone.

  "George's Men's Shop." I repeated that and Carter wrote it down.

  "Anyone with him?"

  "Nope."

  "Listen, Sam. Can you stay where you are for ten minutes?"

  "Sure. I got nothin' pressing going on."

  "Great. What's the number of that phone?"

  I heard him move around in the booth. "It's Klondike 1566." I repeated the number out loud.

  "And where is it?"

  "Right at the corner of Market and Taylor. By the Loew's Warfield. You know where I mean?"

  "Sure. You stay tight and stay by the phone. Don't let anyone use it. I'm on my way. I'll also be sending a man by the name of Andy. He'll get there before me. Wait with him. And, we'll make it worth your while."

  Sam laughed. "Sounds fine to me. See you soon."

  "Yeah. Thanks." I pressed down the switch hook and called the office. While it rang, Carter said, "I'll be in the car." I nodded as he sprinted to the front door.

  "Consolidated Security."

  "Hiya, doll. Get your pencil. I'm in a rush."

  "Go ahead, Nick."

  "Klondike 1566. Market at Taylor. Phone booth by the Warfield. Guy by the name of Sam. Repeat that back to me."

  She did and was right on the nose.

  "Send Andy down there as fast as he can get there. He's to wait with Sam. Got that?"

  "Sure."

  "Tell Andy that this guy saw Ike. The guy'll give him all the details. Carter and I are on our way. Tell Andy to watch and observe and stay put unless he sees Ike. Tell him to leave Sam with a message if he has to take off. Got it?"

  "Yeah."

  "Thanks." I dropped the receiver, grabbed my hat, and dashed down the steps. Carter had the Buick on the street, so all I had to do was jump in as he hit the pedal and we screeched away.

  As he dodged streetcars on Market Street, I said, "Maybe we need one of those car phones."

  Carter pulled the car sharply to the right and managed to quickly pull around a truck that was slowing down to turn left. I grabbed on the dashboard and said, "Whoa, cowboy."

  Carter glanced over at me and smiled. "Hold on buster, we're gonna beat Andy." I took a deep breath and wished the car had seat belts.

  As we passed the Mint up on the hill above Market, I said, "You know, I'm not surprised."

  Without taking his eye off the road, Carter asked, "What?"

  "George's Men's Clothes. Know what else is on that block?"

  Carter laughed. "Of course. The Silver Rail. The Old Crow."

  "Right. The Old Crow seems a little too seedy for Ike's clientele."

  Carter nodded. "You ever been in there?"

  "Once, with Mike back in '40. We walked in, had one drink, and walked out."

  "Not your style?"

  I laughed. "It was fine back then. But, it was one of the few times someone hit me up. I wondered if they thought Mike was pimping me out. If they'd all known he was a cop…"

  Carter laughed again. "Yeah. The joint would've emptied out in a New York minute."

  "You got that right."

  As we crossed Van Ness, I said, "When we get to 6th, slow down but don't stop. I'll jump out. Then find your way to the southbound side of Market and start circling the block on Taylor, then Eddy, then Mason."

  With some irritation, Carter said, "I know how to drive in this town, Nick. I used to wrangle a fire truck, remember?"

  "Sorry about that, Chief." I put my hand on his knee.

  Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, "Gimme a kiss. That'll make me feel better."

  I leaned over and gave him a slow peck on the cheek. I saw him smile from the side.

  . . .

  As we approached 6th Street, Carter began to slow down. He was already in the right lane. After we crossed the intersection, I opened my door and hopped out managing, somehow, not to fall. I couldn't both jump out and close the door, so I watched Carter reach over and pull it closed as he drove on. Then, ignoring a few sharp remarks from people walking by, I dashed across Market, dodging cars, and hopped up on the curb. I could see Sam standing next to the phone booth in front of the Loew's Warfield Building. He was alone.

  "Sam."

  He turned and said, "Your guy came and left already. He'd been here about a minute when we saw Ike leaving the store."

  I nodded. "Was Ike carrying anything?"<
br />
  "Oh, sure. He was loaded up with bags and a couple of boxes."

  I pulled out a folder-over hundred and handed it to Sam. His eyes popped when he saw what it was. "Damn, Mr. Williams. That's a lot for fifteen minutes of work." He put it in his pocket.

  I smiled and said, "Thanks, Sam. Call me again if you hear anything about Ike."

  He smiled back at me and stared for a moment. "You, you know, ever free?"

  I shook my head but kept it friendly. "You know I'm as good as married." I paused and looked at him directly. "And, you don't wanna mess with Carter Jones."

  Sam looked a little disappointed, but he nodded and walked away, heading north up Taylor.

  I ducked into the phone booth, dropped a dime, and called the office.

  "Consolidated Security." It was Marnie.

  "Hiya, it's Nick. Look, Andy is on the move. Make sure the phone is covered in case he calls. If you need me in the next fifteen minutes, try that Klondike number I gave you. I'll call back when I have more. Got that?"

  "Sure, Nick."

  "Thanks, doll." I put the receiver back and stepped out of the booth. I saw Carter turning right onto Market from Mason. I walked over to the curb and waited. As he pulled up and stopped, I opened the door.

  "Andy's on the move. I'm going into the store. Keep circling and I'll meet you here when I'm done."

  Carter smiled and said, "Sure thing, Boss."

  I smiled back and closed the door.

  . . .

  George's Men's Shop had been around for as long as I could remember. I'd never been inside but had passed by the place plenty of times. As I pushed open the front door, a small bell rang out, announcing my entrance. I took in a breath of that particular aroma that only men's clothing stores have: a mix of shoe leather, wool, and eau de cologne.

  "May I help you, sir?"

  The man who greeted me was slim and stood about 5'8". He sported a thin black mustache above his lip and wore a measuring tape around his neck. He was definitely in the life, or was qualified to be. I turned on my big smile and got as close to him as I could.

  "Sure. My friend was just in here. And I was wondering if he bought the shoes I suggested. Because." I paused and looked at the man directly in the eyes. "If he didn't, I want to buy them for him as a gift." I winked and said, "It's our anniversary."

  The man stepped back, looked me up and down, and replied haughtily, "That might work in a place like Mexico or Georgia, Mr. Williams, but it won't work with me."

  I smiled to cover my surprise. It had been a while since I had tailed anyone. It hadn't occurred to me that I was no longer some anonymous Joe. And, considering that kids were keeping scrapbooks of my exploits, I couldn't expect that a guy who was obviously a homosexual wouldn't know who I was as soon as he laid eyes on me. So, I tried another tack.

  "I'll give it to you straight. I'm trying to track down a kid whose parents are worried sick. He hasn't talked to them in a week and they hired me to find him. He was just in here and left with a lot of clothes. He's 23. About six feet. Blonde with green eyes. Has a scar on his chin. And handsome as the devil."

  The man broke into a grin. "And he's got other assets that his tailor can easily see." He cocked his head to one side. "What do you need?"

  "Did he give you an address?"

  The shop wasn't full, but we had been speaking quietly the whole time. The man hesitated for a moment and then turned and said, "Follow me."

  We walked into the store past a bank of counters. Two other men, both standing at attention next to a glass case of neckties, started whispering as we passed. The man called over his shoulder, "For crying out loud, you two. Yes, it's him."

  I nodded in a friendly way as I followed the man into his office. Once we were there, he picked up a leather-bound book and held it in his hands. "I shouldn't do this. But, I trust you and I know you wouldn't want this information if it wasn't important."

  I nodded and said, "Thanks."

  He opened the book, thumbed through several pages until he came to one that was partially written on. He ran his finger down the line and said, "I don't for a moment think this name is right but I have several items being tailored for him and they will be delivered on Friday."

  "What name did he give you?"

  He rolled his eyes and said, "Joe Smith."

  I smiled. "And what was the address?"

  "Well, this may surprise you. I know it surprised me."

  "What?" I asked.

  "1198 Lombard."

  I was surprised.

  . . .

  I walked over to the phone booth and called the office again.

  "Consolidated Security." This time it was Robert.

  "Has Andy called in?"

  "No. We haven't heard from him."

  "Gotta pencil?"

  "Yes."

  "1198 Lombard Street."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. If Andy calls in, tell him that's the address Ike gave for delivery."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really. Thanks, kid." I dropped the phone on the hook. I could see Carter coming down the block.

  . . .

  "But I thought that place had been condemned?"

  I shook my head. We were driving up Taylor and had just passed Union Square. "Not anymore. Someone bought the place and had it completely renovated."

  "Well, I hope they did it right. I've been to two fires there since 1950. Must have been something to see in the old days."

  I nodded. As we came to a stop sign, I said, "Leavenworth is faster."

  Carter sighed. "You wanna drive, son?"

  I leaned over to give him another kiss on the cheek. This earned us a honk from the truck behind us.

  . . .

  We pulled into a spot right in front of the house. Carter killed the ignition and we sat there for a moment while I looked around to see if there was any sign of Ike or Andy. Seeing neither, I said, "Slump down in your seat and pull your hat down as low as you can. You want people to think you're having a snooze. If you see either one of them, honk once."

  "Will do, Boss." He slid down in the seat and pulled the brim of his hat forward as I slipped out the passenger door. I glanced up at the house. There was a high wall of shrubbery that blocked the front door of the house from view. The building was right at the corner of Lombard and Larkin. It sat on a lot that was held in place by a massive retaining wall running along both streets. The house itself was perched twenty feet above the sidewalk. A set of newly paved stairs led to the front door.

  The house had been built in the late 20s, if I remembered right. The style was pure California Mediterranean. It had fallen into disrepair after the owner abandoned the property just before the war. The city had taken possession after that and had recently sold the house for a song. The only reason I knew this was because my ex-attorney, ex-lover, and ex-friend, one Jeffery Klein, Esquire, had asked me about buying the house as an investment back in January. I didn't like buying real estate just to turn a buck, so I had declined much to his disapproval.

  As I slowly walked up the slight incline along Lombard from Larkin to Hyde, I heard a whistle. Turning to my right, I saw Andy step from behind a tree on the far side of the street. Behind him was a steep embankment that was the north side of the Lombard Street Reservoir. I crossed over and met him behind a big black Lincoln.

  "What’s buzzin’, cousin?" I asked.

  Andy smiled, rubbed his hands together, and said, "Haven't heard that one in a while." He pulled on the lapels of his up-turned coat collar and lightly stamped his feet. There was a northwest wind blowing in from the ocean and it was cold. He looked around. "This is my favorite thing."

  "What happened after you left the store on Market?"

  "He got in a cab and came right up here. Fortunately, there was another cab right behind so I hopped it and we followed him here. I would have called in but doesn't look like there's a phone anywhere nearby."

  "You're right about that. You ever been up here bef
ore?"

  "Oh, sure. Dawson and I have been driving the City and memorizing the streets. Of course, we've been down that crazy street over there." He pointed to the other side of Hyde where "the crookedest street in the world" started. That block of Lombard was steep, even as San Francisco streets go, and had been turned into a series of tight curves during the 20s to make it possible for cars and pedestrians to make it up and down.

  "Anything happen since you got here?"

  Andy shook his head. "Kid gets out of the cab, goes up the side of the hill dragging his bags and boxes with him, and walks in the door like he owns the place. That's it."

  I nodded and wondered at that.

  Chapter 6

  Offices of Consolidated Security

  Tuesday, December 15, 1953

  Just after 5:30 in the afternoon

  "What does Polk's say?" I asked.

  Andy, Carter, and I were sitting in my office. Marnie was at the door and Robert was leaning against the wall.

  Marnie said, "I can't pronounce it. I wrote it down here on this paper."

  She crossed the room and handed it to me. It read, "Zbigniew Korkowski." I gave a shot at pronouncing the name and failed.

  Robert said, "Sounds Polish."

  I nodded and asked Marnie, "What did the cross-check say?"

  "Engineer. But no company name."

  I nodded. "Robert, what did the library tell you?"

  He looked down at his notes. "Mrs. K told me the Kopeks are from a little town called Petervald. When I talked to the librarian, she said that it's a town in the Moravian-Silesian part of Czechoslovakia and all that means is that a lot of Poles live there. Nothing much happened during the war that she could find quickly, but she said she would keep looking and call me back if she found anything."

  Carter asked me, "What was your theory?"

  "I wondered if there was a concentration camp there or something to do with the Germans. Just a hunch."

  Andy said, "So you think this guy that Ike met at the baths is from his hometown?"

  I nodded. While we were driving back to the office from Lombard Street, Carter and I had given Andy the latest update on what we'd found out. "Yeah. Now that we know where he is and that the guy who owns the place has a Polish name, I'm pretty sure there's something to that idea."

  Andy asked, "Do we go hunt down the ex who works at Ernie's?"