Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty

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Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty Page 11

by MIchell Plested


  “Stop gawking. I’ll pass out from hunger if I let you stare at the building,” Betsy said.

  “Did you see the number of ships?”

  “Yes, all well and good. Come now. The restaurant is a long way up. Let’s get going.”

  Four gray, marble statues of twenty foot angels having wingspans nearly as wide as the lobby screamed opulence. The same gray marble had been used on the floor and walls. On the far wall was the bank of passenger elevators, twenty in all. If the magnificence of the building’s entrance wasn’t enough, the designers had placed directly in the middle of the elevator bank, a huge waterfall that disappeared high into the ceiling.

  Jack and Betsy went with the tide of humanity to surge into one of the empty cars as its door opened. He started to feel a bit dizzy and wasn’t sure if it was thirst, hunger, or all the people pressing in against him. Sure he’d been past the Waldorf Building. He’d looked up multiple times, because although he’d been here before, he hadn’t been to the top. In fact, he’d never been packed into a tiny space with a crowd of people like this.

  He wiped his hands on his rubbery jacket, but that didn’t get the sweat off his palms. Did he have a handkerchief in one of his pockets?

  “Jack, you’re breathing hard. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Someone called out a floor. The operator brought the elevator to a stop and people rushed out the open doors. The cool breeze was wonderful, and Jack had the urge to lunge out the doors himself and be off the lift. It was only Betsy’s hand on his arm that kept him from moving. Much like an elephant with a tiny rope keeping it tied to a pole, he could break free at any moment, but the soft, warm skin of her palm gave him comfort.

  They made several more stops and each time, he resisted the urge to jump out. Finally he and Betsy, two large men, and the elevator’s operator were the only people left.

  She turned Jack to face the corner then grabbed the lapels on his coat and leaned close to him. “I’ve never seen you like this, Jack. What’s wrong?”

  He could only shake his head as she produced a handkerchief and sopped the sweat from his brow.

  “We’ll be at the top in a minute. Just hang in there. Some lunch and you’ll feel as right as rain.”

  With a nod, he faced the inside of the elevator. She was probably right. He already felt a tiny bit better with the elevator emptied. Now there were only these two large men.

  One of the men was wearing a pink, polka-dotted handkerchief poking from beneath his hat. The handkerchief had a stain that could have been blood. There was something familiar about the man and his girly handkerchief.

  It really made no difference to him right then. He needed off the lift and needed off now!

  A bell dinged. “Top floor, Jack. We’re here. Let’s—”

  Pushing his way between the two large men, he bolted. He couldn’t be certain where he was running, but he took off looking for some way to get outside and get some fresh air. He needed to feel the cool, summer breeze on his face. Anything. He needed to feel something other than the stuffy air inside the cramped elevator.

  Before him was a gangplank that extended out from one of the zeppelins to allow passengers to depart. A tall, thin man was in the way of Jack and the fresh air he needed. The man, impeccably dressed in a black suit, gold tie pin, highly-polished shoes, a monocle, and a fancy bowler stood wide-eyed as Jack sprinted for the gangplank. The man dropped his walking stick and briefcase and held his hands up in front of his face as Jack barreled into him.

  Once on the gangplank, he stopped and drew in deep breath after deep breath until he regained his composure. He barely noticed the view of the streets far below. Several people grumbled and complained as they pushed their way past him, but he could only be happy he could breathe once again. The constriction in his chest had gone away, and the world came back into focus.

  At his feet were the thin man’s briefcase and walking stick, and Jack reached down to pick them up. He could see no trace of the man, but once he looked back inside the building, Betsy waved for him.

  He couldn’t very well leave these things where someone might trip and fall over them. It was a long way to the ground below. Once he was sure the walkway was clear, he went to join Betsy.

  Before he got to her, he stopped. The two huge men that had been on the elevator waited and stared at the zeppelin plank. One of them wrung his hands while the other shifted from foot to foot. He walked near them, certain they were the same large men he’d seen at the dock earlier that morning. What were they up to?

  With a shake of his arm a tracking disk dropped out of his sleeve and into his hand. Its tiny hooks made it easy to attach to the tail of one of the gorilla’s coats. Later Jack would be able to turn on his receiver, and if they were near he’d know.

  “Mr. Kane, it’s not polite to run out on a woman in a crowded area. I do hope you find yourself under less duress and we can now dine at our leisure.”

  He spun around to ensure the two men wouldn’t notice him. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. “My lady, would you please join me for some of the finest dining this wonderful city has to offer?”

  “Why Mr. Kane. I’m all a-flutter. I would be honored to join you.”

  She draped her hand in the crook of his arm, and they found their way to the restaurant. For the time being he was able to put the business of the piano conspirators out of his head. His growling stomach made sure of that.

  The restaurant had been aptly named The View for not only was the restaurant over all the zeppelins and air ships moored around the building, but sitting atop the Waldorf Building it was at the highest one could be in the city. Without being airborne, one could not get a better view.

  “Jack, is that Central Park?” Betsy pointed to a large rectangle of green in the midst of all the gray and brown buildings, many belching either black or white smoke into the afternoon air.

  He nodded, momentarily at a loss for words. The view of his beloved city from the top of the Waldorf was more magnificent than he could have imagined.

  His reverie was interrupted by the restaurant’s maître d’. “Good day, sir. Madam. Two for lunch?”

  When he didn’t answer, she tugged on Jack’s arm. “Oh, yes. Two for lunch, please.”

  After another nudge, he produced a dollar from his pocket and handed it to the maître d’. “A table with a good view, if you please.”

  The maître d’ held the dollar and gave Jack a short stare before pocketing the bill with a sniff and leading them into a small, ornate elevator. Once aboard he pulled a lever, and they rose gently to the dining floor.

  The dining area consisted of a large circular room. All the tables lined the outside of the circle while the elevator arrived in the center. A semi-circular kitchen lay between the elevator and the tables. His dollar had been wasted. Every table had a spectacular view as the entire restaurant rotated giving diners a three-hundred-sixty degree perspective of the city.

  “If you would follow me. Please watch your step.” The maître d’ led them past the kitchen area and onto the dining floor.

  As they walked by, Jack peered in and couldn’t help but be fascinated by the array of devices cleaning and cutting vegetables. So many gears, belts, pulleys, and cutting bits. What wonders were they making? What could he do to make it better—.

  “Mr. Kane!”

  He spun. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring so intently at the vegetable prep station. Betsy tapped her parasol on the side of her leg.

  With a bow he said, “My apologies, Ms. Wilkes. I didn’t not mean to hold up our repast.”

  The maître d’ shook his head as they made their way to the table. Many people dressed in fine attire ate, drank, and conversed. It appeared that not one of them took a moment to admire the tableau. The gentle rotation of the restaurant had a calming effect.

  “What is this?” Betsy’s tone did not sound calming.

  “Ma’am, this is the only
table available. If you prefer to wait—”

  “No, we’re not going to wait. Jack, can you believe this?”

  He had been too busy staring out the domed ceiling window that displayed the city and bay hundreds of feet below to such great affect to realize where they stopped. Now that he no longer admired the view, he could see the table was directly by a seam between two windows. The seam, built of brass inlayed with polished wood that scrolled up its height to form the silhouette of a tree, completely blocked any possible sight from the table.

  “There’s nothing else?” he asked.

  The maître d’ shook his head, dropped the menus on the table, and walked away. Jack had wasted a very good dollar indeed. “Well, perhaps we can get something accomplished while we eat,” he suggested.

  “I hoped we’d be able to see when the zeppelin was being unloaded. Then we would know to hurry so we could monitor the shipment on its way to Sohmer and Company.”

  “Hasn’t it been unloaded already?”

  “Don’t be silly. The passengers may have disembarked, but it will take a considerable amount of time to unload the cargo.”

  A waitress arrived seemingly out of nowhere. “If the two of you would like to sit, I could take your order.”

  “I don’t think we’re staying.”

  “Don’t be silly, Jack. I’ve been waiting too long to eat here, and we’re going to stay and eat. This isn’t ideal, but it will suffice.”

  He pulled out a chair for Betsy then sat across from her. They would have to eat quickly to ensure they were at the base of the building before the zeppelin was unloaded.

  The waitress smiled and nodded. “Now, may I take your order?”

  He cringed as Betsy ordered her lunch, not sure an hour would be long enough to prepare the food let alone for it to arrive and be eaten. If it weren’t for the rumblings in his own stomach, he almost suggested they leave and grab a bite from a street cart on their way to Sohmer and Company. Would have been much quicker.

  Not that his suggestion would have been heeded.

  ~ * ~

  “Gee, Lenny, where do you suppose this Mister Y joker is?” Squiggy asked.

  Lenny put his hand over his partner’s mouth. “Keep quiet. If anybody hears you, they’re going to get the wrong idea.” He glanced around the lobby. “And if Mister Y hears you disrespecting him, you might disappear along with me.”

  Squiggy hung his head. “Gee Lenny, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

  “I know you didn’t think,” Lenny interrupted. “Now, just hush up, will ya? The boss told us what to watch for so we’re watching. Capiche?”

  “Yes, Lenny.” Squiggy did his best to look like one of the room’s columns. He stared at the elevators without blinking.

  “Squiggy?”

  “Yes, Lenny?”

  “Just what are you doing?”

  “I’m watching the elevators like you told me ta do.” Squiggy had a confused look on his face.

  “Yes, that’s what I told you, all right. But Squiggy, you don’t suppose you could be less obvious, do you? This place has security everywhere itching to put the clamp on a couple suspicious characters. You know what I mean?”

  “Oh yeah, right. Sorry again.”

  “Just look natural. We’re a couple a businessmen waiting for an associate to get off the zeppelin. That’s the story, and that’s all we’re doing. Okay?”

  Squiggy’s eyes widened. “Lenny look!” He pointed widely in the direction of the building entrance.

  Lenny slapped his hand and tried to casually look. “Squiggy. Don’t you ever listen? Stop drawing attention to us.”

  “I’m sorry, but look at the pair coming through the front doors.”

  He checked out the front of the building. Several people milled around the room, but a man and a woman were walking through the spinning front door. Something about them was extremely familiar. “Yeah? What about ’em?”

  “Don’t you remember? We’ve seen ’em before. Over at the dock, remember? I think they might be following us.”

  “You’re seeing things, Squiggy. So we’ve seen them once before. It happens. Now let’s get up to the zeppelin landing area and find Mister Y.”

  “Whatever you say,” Squiggy replied, his voice sullen.

  “Don’t get like that.” Lenny smiled at the elevator jockey. “Top floor, please.” He turned to Squiggy. “If we see them again, then we can start believing they’re following us. Twice is just a coincidence, all right?”

  Squiggy puzzled through that before he smiled. “Yeah, I guess so, Lenny.” Then the man went white. “Lenny! They’re on the elevator with us right now!” He hissed into Lenny’s good ear through clenched teeth.

  Nonchalantly, he looked around the elevator. Sure enough. The guy, wearing a odd-looking black duster, was sweating something fierce. The doll, a real looker, kept whispering in his ear.

  The elevator continued its leisurely climb, the bell dinging as each floor passed, being stopped as people called out floors. As the top neared, the elevator jockey slowed the lift, neatly stopping it upon arrival.

  “Top floor, folks,” he said as he opened the door for them.

  The sweating fellow shoved past the two men as the doors opened. Lenny watched him run across the observation deck, bouncing off people in his haste. He disappeared into the crowd.

  “How rude,” said the elevator jockey with a frown.

  “No matter. Thank you, my good fellow,” Lenny said, handing him a coin.

  As he and Squiggy stepped off the elevator, a stiff breeze billowed out their long coats.

  The deck was crowded forcing Lenny and Squiggy to elbow their way out of the elevator and across the floor. Just ahead, anchored to the building by several steel cables, hung a zeppelin, nose facing into the wind. The gangplank connected it to the building. A steward wheeled baggage off as they approached.

  “Excuse me, pal, but is this the only zeppelin from England this afternoon,” Lenny asked.

  The man glanced at him with a bored expression. When he spoke, it was with a thick German accent. “Ya. No others come until late tonight.”

  “Can you tell me if any of the passengers are still on board?”

  “Passengers? Nein. Zer ist only crew left on the ship.”

  He pushed a bit forward. “We’re looking for a fella. He was supposed to be on this flight. We ain’t seen him yet. You sure he ain’t on board. Maybe havin’ a snooze.”

  “I said, nein. All the passenger quarters have been checked. Zer are none left.”

  “I’m sorry, pal,” Lenny said. “It’s not that we don’t believe you, but this fella is kind of important. We’re going to have to search the ship ourselves.”

  The steward blocked their way with the trolley and glared at them. “You are not allowed on board. Zat is the rules. Now, please go before I am forced to call security.”

  Lenny shoved the man and his baggage trolley roughly out of the way. “Can’t do that, buster.” He stomped across the gangplank, ignoring the insane drop on either side. Squiggy followed close behind him.

  “Stop! You are not allowed on ze ship!” The steward shouted, more loudly this time. “Security! Zer are intruders on ze ship!”

  Lenny and Squiggy hurried on board. If the man were calling now, it wouldn’t be long before security showed. There wasn’t much time to look over the vessel for Mister Y.

  “Squiggy, you check the hold, and I’ll go through the passenger cabins and lounge. Remember, he carries a cane with a silver skull as a handle.”

  “Right.” Squiggy took off at a dead run down a set of stairs to the gondola’s hold.

  Lenny checked the direction placards in the hall and followed them to the cabin area. He slammed doors open at a breakneck speed. Except for startling another steward, who was busy cleaning a room, they were all empty. The sound of angry voices came from the hallway. He picked up the pace, kicking and punching doors open.

  Nothing.

  L
enny managed to find the grand salon when five extremely serious looking men paraded a battered and bruised Squiggy into the room. They held up truncheons and advanced toward him.

  “You going to come peacefully or do we have to drag you outta here like we did for your friend?” a burly mustachioed man said, brandishing the weapon.

  Lenny checked around the room. No sign of their man. “I was leaving, actually.” He turned and marched out. The security officers followed close behind him, dragging Squiggy between them.

  Four police were waiting for them on the deck of the building, guns drawn.

  “No need for those, officers,” Lenny said. “We were leaving.”

  “Yes, me boyo, you are,” said a beefy sergeant in a thick Irish brogue. “You’ll be coming to the station with us and explaining yerselves to the lieutenant.”

  Lenny kept walking. The security guards released Squiggy as he left the ship. “Don’t trouble yourselves, officer. We know our way out of the building.”

  “I don’t think you’re understanding me, boyo,” the sergeant said. “It’s not a request I be making to ye.”

  Lenny saw his chance as the elevator doors opened to discharge another set of passengers. “Now, Squiggy. Make for the elevator!” He went from casual stroll to full-out run in a heartbeat, slamming through two of the coppers.

  Squiggy was right on his tail knocking the remaining two to the ground. They shoved past the exiting passengers onto the lift.

  “Kid, there’s a ten-spot in it for you if you get us down before the cops can grab us!” Lenny shouted.

  The elevator jockey doffed his cap with a grin. “You got it, sir.” He closed the doors and started the elevator’s descent. “I hope you gentlemen don’t mind me running this lift a little faster to make sure?”

 

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