by Brian Meeks
“Henry, how can you say that? It was real…it is real.” She reached for his hand.
“I need truth from you now, in these few minutes, or I'm walking out of here. When they find out I was bluffing, they will take it out on you.”
“You were bluffing? You don’t know where the ‘Eye’ is?”
“No, never did, but you knew I could bluff well enough to get here. Wasn’t that your plan?”
“Yes it was, but the way you said…well, you even convinced me.”
“The clock is ticking kitten. Are you the Falcon?”
“Yes.”
“Were you the Falcon when we met?”
“No, I was just me.”
“Did you ever care for me?”
“Yes, of course I did, I mean, I do. Can’t you tell?”
Her answers came quickly, no need to think, she was telling the truth. The next question caught her square in the jaw.
“Why did Mickey have to die?”
“He…I mean…”
“He was my best friend and you knew that. Was it you in the car?”
“No” A horrified look on her face, tears starting to fall.
“But it was you, you ordered it. You had to keep your secret. Who killed Mickey?”
“I…Henry…please let me explain.”
Henry let her have it, both barrels, looking into her moist eyes. “We don’t have time for your explanation. I need an answer. If we don’t wipe the slate clean, if you don’t tell me what you have done, I can’t begin to forgive you.” Giving her some hope, “I might as well take the money. Let the truth die with you. It will hurt, but not as much as your betrayal. I need to know who killed Mickey, the why can come later.”
“Henry it is complicated…”
Slightly louder, a little colder, with an edge, “Who killed Mickey?”
The door opened. “It has been 5 minutes. You must call now.”
Henry stood, looked at her, and then dialed. When he got the voice on the other end, “The ‘Eye’ is behind a wall, on the second floor. Go through the door you can see from the phone booth, there are stairs at the end of the hall. Once you get to the second floor, go down the hall, and take the first left. This hall goes for a ways; there are office doors on both sides. This hall connects to another hallway. Turn right and open the first door on the left. It is a large room, the back wall is brick. There is a hidden space behind the false wall. There is a release, but it is hard to explain how it works. Just use the sledge hammer near the corner. If you open it up near the corner, it will be safe; the boxes with the ‘Eye’ are at the other end of the space.” Henry sat down, with the phone on his knee. “We talked.” Then he listened for a moment.
Tears streamed down her face.
“I'll take the…”
“No wait…it was Arthur.”
Henry holding the phone, “But he works for you?!”
“Yes.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew and didn’t tell me.”
Katarina was completely broken, sobbing into her hands, “You don’t understand, I needed the ‘Eye’…”
Henry stood up slowly, and then said, “You get that captain?” He hung up the phone and set it on the table.
The two men guarding the door came in and identified themselves as police officers. They carried cuffs and asked her to stand.
Henry walked towards the door.
Katarina ran up to him, grabbing his arm, confused. “What? What’s going on?”
Henry waved off the two officers and grabbed her by the elbows. “You lost. You played everyone for the fool, even me. I let you. I couldn’t help it. But I can’t let you get away with Mickey’s murder. I won’t.”
Screaming and crying, “But I need the ‘Eye’, I need to ask it something. I need to talk to God.”
Henry gave the officers a nod and they pulled her arms behind her back. “You don’t need a 2000 year old machine. You just talk. You find a quiet place and talk.”
Henry walked out and down to the street. The professor pulled up and he climbed in. “Mike is over helping take Arthur and Hans down to the station. He said he would catch up with us later. The chief said you would need to make a statement, but it could wait until morning. Where to?”
“I need a drink.”
“The Dublin Rogue it is.”
CHAPTER 66
Henry didn’t have to pay for a drink all night. Everyone at The Dublin Rogue considered him a hero for finding Mickey’s killer. He didn’t feel heroic. He didn’t feel like rehashing the whole story, so he mostly said, “Thanks and I’m just glad we got them.” The professor and Mike filled in and recounted the main parts of the story, to those who were interested.
Around 1:00 am, Henry sat at his favorite table, in the back. He drank his beer and thought about Mickey. Luna came up and smiled, “May I join you?”
Henry poured her a beer, he was glad to see her. “Did Mike call you?”
“Yes, he said you got em.”
“This is pretty late for you, don’t you have to be at the bakery in a few hours.”
“I have tomorrow off.”
“Oh” He took a sip and looked at her, as she slid in next to him. She was familiar, comfortable, and kind. He needed that.
“You want to tell me about it? If you don’t that is okay.”
He didn’t want to talk about it, to tell the story, but he wanted her to know. “How much do you know?”
“Mike told me you worked it out to get a confession, so even the chief got to be in on it. How did you do it?”
The bar noise seemed to fade away; he took her hand, and recounted the final act.
“I can tell you, because you know about the closet. I got a clue, a newspaper from the future.”
“Really?” Luna whispered, “What did you find out?”
Henry skipped over the part about the Dodgers. He wasn’t ready to deal with that open wound. “It was about a discovery of a strange empty hiding space, as a building was being remodeled. The details of the article were such, that I knew exactly where the ‘Eye’ had been. At the time, I didn’t know what the clue meant, but I knew that eventually I would. A few hours later, I got a call…”
Henry went over the part about Hans and Arthur hiring him, told her how Katarina had called him and put him on the phone with the Greek man. Henry paused as the waitress stopped over and asked if he wanted another pitcher. He looked at Luna, who nodded, and ordered one.
“I'm a good judge of people. I knew the Greek man was serious about getting the ‘Eye’ back, but I also sensed he didn’t really want to harm Katarina or Patrick. It was strange how the plan just seemed to form before my eyes. I knew she was the ‘Falcon’, and had also, just before the call, cracked the rest of Mickey’s code. He had figured out who she was and that Arthur and Hans worked for her, spying on her two chief rivals. It was easy to crack, once I realized she was the ‘Falcon’.” Henry sighed.
Luna leaned into him and whispered, “You are very clever.”
“I should have figured it out before, but she…”
“It’s okay. Go on with your story.”
“Oh yes, where was I?”
“You were talking to the Greek man and the plan just came to you.”
“Yes, I knew that Katarina had killed Mickey, or had one of her minions do it. Everyone else had been cleared, she was the only one left with motive. I just couldn’t prove it. So the plan started to form. I explained to the Greek man, what I was doing, why I didn’t care about his artifact, and that if he would help me, I would give it back to him. His immediate answer was yes, but it was his tone, which told me I could trust him. I needed a confession and I knew she was clever, very clever, much more than me, or I would have figured it out earlier. So we set up a schedule. First he was to get angry, then make it appear I wanted money. He agreed to make a show of killing the fence, Patrick.”
“You had Patrick killed?”
&nbs
p; “No, it was pretend. In fact, Patrick is fine. They kept him in another room after that and the Greek man and he started talking about art and fencing art. It turns out they knew some of the same people. Patrick is traveling back to Greece with the ‘Eye’ and its protectors. He even sent some men around to collect Patrick’s stuff from his apartment.”
“I’m glad.” She filled her glass up and continued listening
“After the Patrick ‘killing’, I wanted her to stew for a while. We set up the meeting for ten o’clock in the meat packing district, because it would be quiet by then. I knew this would seem reasonable to Hans and Arthur and they went for it. What I didn’t know is they would try to double cross me. They planned to rob the Greek guys, after they had the ‘Eye’. What they didn’t know is that three of the guys they called to help, were my buddies. Remember the three guys I told you about at the wake? The one’s who worked for Father Patrick?”
“Yes, they had leather coats, thought they were tough, until you roughed them up.” She said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Those are the guys. They called me as soon as they got their marching orders. So I called the Greek man and explained what was going on. He had been making sure Katarina didn’t get any good sleep, so she was going to be tired and less likely to see my bluff. I still wanted to wait until after ten to confront her. I had to take a gamble. I told my Greek friend that I was ready to give him the ‘Eye’ now, if he would only bring a couple of guys, and keep it quiet. He agreed. The room where it was hidden wasn’t used by anyone. We couldn’t really smash down the wall, which had been my original plan, so we had to find the trigger to open the room. I have to give the magician credit, it was well hidden. It took an hour, but we found it. He and his men quietly loaded it into their truck. Nobody seemed to notice or care that a big box was being moved, as it was pretty busy on the loading dock. “
“Where did they take it?”
“I don’t know and didn’t ask. After it was in the truck, he shook my hand, and gave me this.” Henry pulled out a ring with an insignia on it. “I’m an honorary ‘Thorstian’.”
Luna looked at the ring, grinned, and handed it back to Henry. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“He kept his end of the bargain. He showed up to the meeting, followed in the car, and went through everything we had set up. The difference was, they didn’t need to mess around with getting the ‘Eye’, so they went out the back and slipped into the night. They didn’t need the truck anymore, so they left it on the loading dock, so as not to tip off Arthur and Hans.”
“So how did you get all the cops to show up so quickly? Mike said it was an impressive arrest.”
“Between the time we found the ‘Eye’ and the ten o’clock meeting, I brought the chief up to speed. Mike and I went to his office and I told him the entire plan. He had about a dozen men in the building, before we even got there. He even got two cops who spoke Greek, to replace the guys watching Katarina. Of course, they knew that my young friends were on our side, so as to avoid any problems. There was a fourth guy, who took off, before everything got crazy. I don’t know who he was. Sorry, I got off track. So basically it all came down to the calls. I dialed the chief and put on a show. I didn’t think she was going to crack, but we got her to rat out Arthur as the killer. Once she fingered him, they gave the signal and Arthur and Hans put their double cross into play. I wish I could have seen their face when they snuck into the building to find themselves surround by New York’s finest.”
“How do you know that Arthur really did it? She could have been lying.”
“I have to give credit to Mickey. In his notes he mentioned that Arthur smoked a rare brand of Turkish cigarette. He was smoking them while we were waiting for the Greek men to arrive, so we could drive them to the hiding place. They were the same cigarettes which had piled up at the scene. I had him, but I needed to hear it from Katarina.”
Henry took a long drink of his beer. He didn’t say if he needed it to make a stronger case for the DA, or just for his own piece of mind. Luna didn’t ask. There were other strings which hadn’t been tied up, like who killed the two guys who brought it over, or who shot Randy, but Henry didn’t care. He had found the truth.
Henry and Luna sat and held hands. Nothing else needed to be said.
HENRY WOOD: PERCEPTION
CHAPTER 1
“Perception is our reality, viewed through the lens of what we believe. It has only a passing resemblance to the truth.”
Henry, looked over Francis Le Mange’s shoulder and said, “That’s how you want to start your novel?”
The sound of the typewriter ceased. “I put a lot of thought into the first line.”
Henry chuckled and said, “I have no idea what it means, but I'm sure it will make sense, once you write the rest of it.” He patted him on the shoulder.
“You think I can only write restaurant reviews? Non, I am, how do you say, an artist.” Whenever Francis got angry, his English skills plummeted and he would often revert to French. A full two minutes of ranting followed. Henry didn’t understand any of it.
“Oh, you know I’m just fooling around with ya. It’s a good start. I’m sure it’ll be a masterpiece. Consider me your first literary fan.”
Francis let out a roar. He knew Henry was just pushing his buttons because that’s what friends do. He started to type away and said, “Your photos are in the envelope. Don says you owe him…again. He wants you to set up a date with the girl who works for you. What is ze name? Celine? Ah oui, he would like a date with Celine.”
“Tell Don I'll put in a word. As for her working for me, I may sign the checks, but I'm not sure she understands who works for whom. I gotta go, get back to the office, before Celine promises another person I'll make everything okay.”
Francis was still working out of the Brooklyn Daily News, which he hated. His office had been destroyed when some gangsters torched Henry’s place, earlier in the year. Francis, the food and restaurant critic, for the Brooklyn Daily, had always preferred to maintain his own office in Manhattan. He reasoned that the best restaurants were on the island and he didn’t want to wait to get back to Brooklyn to write his reviews. Henry knew he just liked having his own space.
The photos, which were printed by Don, one of the photographers for the paper, were for a client.
Henry drove into the city, thinking about the case and the date. April 11, only two more days until the Brooklyn Dodgers would have their home opener with the Pittsburgh Pirates. Henry had four tickets. He always went to opening day, sometimes alone, other times with his old boss Mickey. This year he was taking Luna.
It had been less than a month since Henry had solved the case of Mickey’s killer. The funeral was attended by almost every cop in the city. Afterward, Henry found out that his old mentor had left everything to him in the will. Celine, Henry’s secretary/boss, had dove into the task of cleaning out Mickey's office. She was relentless and made him work much longer hours than he would have liked. Mickey’s old client files had all been moved over, some of his photos were now hanging on the office wall, and the rest were carefully boxed up and put into storage. In between all the moving of boxes and memories, Celine had also accepted a case. She assured the distraught woman that Henry would be glad to get to the bottom of things. If the client's husband was cheating, Henry would find out.
Gladys Pimpkin was certain her husband was having an affair. Six months before, he had started to come home late from work at the plant. He begun to drink more, too. Frank worked as a foreman at a plumbing fixtures manufacturing plant. He started out of high school and made his way up to supervisor, then foreman. When he got the promotion, he proposed to Gladys, his high school sweetheart. They had a small house, a ‘51 Chevy Coupe, and a small dog. Gladys, tried to have kids, but, several miscarriages later, they had given up hope of a family. Now she was certain he was going to leave her.
Henry's bank account was fatter than it had ever been, and he hadn’t even settled
Mickey’s estate yet. When he mentioned this to Celine, with the hope that she might not worry as much about clients, she simply said, “The Henry Wood Detective Agency has two mouths to feed now….Chirp. Furthermore, if things continue to progress with your new sweetie, well, you need to plan for the future.” His attempted objection had, he was sure, inspired her to make him work late moving boxes. Henry couldn’t prove it, but he was certain she had taken a psychology class and had aced the test on negative reinforcement.
He thought about Celine and her iron-fisted management style while he spent six hours in his car watching the bar where Frank was drinking. Henry followed him every night for a week. Frank didn’t always go to the same bar, but he did always leave alone. The photos represented a week and nearly forty hours of surveillance.
Henry walked into the office and Celine was on the phone.
“Yes, sir, I'll tell him as soon as he comes in.”
Henry reached for the phone, since he was now "in," but she waved him off.
“Either tomorrow or the next day…got it. Yes, I'll explain that it’s urgent.” She hung up the phone.
“Good morning, Henry. How are you today?”
“I’m good, what was that about?”
“It can wait. Did you get the photos?”
Henry dropped them on the desk and hung up his hat. He went into his office and poured a cup of coffee.
“It looks like he always leaves alone,” she said with a pensive tone.
Celine’s mind was always working and she had been angling to help with the case. After several attempts at telling her "no", he wasn’t sure she fully understood the word.
“Yep, I think he’s clean. I’m going to go tell her today.”
“So what is he doing, drinking alone? There is more to this story than meets the lens.”
“Maybe, but Gladys hired us to find out if he had a doll on the side. He doesn’t, case closed.”
