Always a Cold Deck (A Harry Reese Mystery Book 1)

by Robert Bruce Stewart

  “I should have something by morning.”

  “Assuming he’s telling the truth.”

  “Yes. If not, he’ll still be in town.”

  He agreed to wait and not long after, Donahy returned. Stark told him about Madden and how he saw it as a dead end.

  “I’ve got something else,” Donahy said. “A voice from above told me to check on Elwell’s son. Seems that he was out of town both Saturday and Sunday. And that he’s been palling around with Sadie Parker.”

  I didn’t have much choice now but to tell Donahy all about Charlie and his alibi. Each time I repeated it, it sounded more ridiculous.

  “I should have been questioning him,” Donahy said.

  “Look, if you had questioned him you would have just gotten a lot of nonsense and then wasted a lot of time finding out it was nonsense.”

  “And you don’t think what he told you is a lot of nonsense?”

  “Well, it’s somewhat less nonsensical than what he originally told me.”

  Donahy looked at me, then at Stark. Stark just shrugged, then asked, “Did you find Schuler?”

  “Whitey Schuler was in Canada yesterday for the races,” Donahy reported.

  “You spoke with him?” Stark asked.

  “No, but he was there. I talked with people who would know.”

  “Do you think he went back over for today’s races?”

  “I’d guess no. Now he’s heard I’m looking for him and he might not be in the mood to take chances like that. But finding a guy like Whitey if he doesn’t want to be found is a tall order.”

  “Still, I think I may venture over and see,” Stark said.

  “To arrest him?” Donahy asked.

  “To hold him, anyway. Care to come along, Mr. Reese?”

  “No, thanks, I have something here I need to attend to.”

  “I was hoping to have someone along who knows Schuler by sight.”

  Donahy obliged him by calling in an aged police doorman and asking him to accompany Stark. Having a sixty-year-old cop wearing his uniform and walking with a limp would be a great help to Stark. As soon as they left Donahy turned to me, smiling.

  “If that guy can catch Whitey, I’ll eat my hat,” he said.

  “You didn’t make it any easier for him. He’ll probably wait at the station over there to nab Whitey on his way back.”

  “Then he won’t see him.” Donahy’s smile grew wider. “Conners will have taken his private car over.”

  “You might have pointed that out.”

  “Yeah, I might have,” he chuckled. “By the way, our girl Sadie is back at the Tifft.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “No, but I heard. I’m going over there now if you want to tag along.”

  We walked over to the Tifft. Sadie was dressed and taking visitors. Donahy greeted her like the old friend he was.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t go over for the races, Sadie.”

  “I’ve had enough of Canada for a long while, Jimmy.”

  “Yeah, I can see why. What can you tell me about this Whitner bird?”

  “Not much.” Then she nodded at me. “Ask his traveling companion here.”

  “We traveled on separate boats,” I smiled. “Why was Whitner hanging around here?”

  “He might have stopped by a few times, but he wasn’t hanging around.”

  “Come on, Sadie, just tell me what you know,” Donahy pleaded. “What’s it matter to you now?”

  “Whitner knew Elwell was set up somewhere else,” Sadie said. “But he didn’t know where. He figured I was mixed up in it and that it was all about the insurance money. Nothing I was going to say would make him believe I wasn’t, so I just let him think that.”

  “Was it something you said that sent him to the Queen’s Royal in Niagara?” I asked.

  “Well, I might have said something.”

  “You thought he might get ahold of a message from Mason. A message you were expecting?”

  “Something like that. We always met at the Queen’s in Port Hope. Bobby insisted on sending those damn cards. He always has to be cute.”

  “So when Whitner read about a meeting at the Queen’s, he went off in the wrong direction?”

  “Yes, and you and your girl, too.”

  “But then Whitner went on to Toronto, where Elwell really was living. Did you drop a hint about that?”

  “Me? I didn’t know it myself.”

  “You told the police in Toronto you did,” I pointed out.

  “Did I?”

  “Regardless, Mason certainly knew.”

  “I guess he did, but he never told me. I figured Elwell was set up somewhere, just like everyone else with any sense. But he made sure everyone was better off if we all pretended he had drowned. I just did my share of the pretending. He was a smart guy.”

  “Are you assuming you’ll be able to collect on the insurance?” I asked.

  “If I find a lawyer who’s keen enough.”

  She was probably right about that. “Why do you think Whitner came back here after Elwell had been shot?”

  “I have no idea. But I’d bet there are lots of people who will be happy to hear he’s dead.”

  “What was going on between you and Charlie Elwell?” Donahy asked.

  “Oh, we were just friends.”

  “Were you stringing him along for a reason?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Look, Sadie. Someone who matters told someone else who matters to tell me to look into what was going on between you and Elwell’s kid. So I’m going to find out.”

  “He made believe he wanted to take his father’s place with me. But I never bought it. I think he was hoping I could lead him to his father.”

  “And what do you think he’d do if he found him?”

  “Well, not kiss and make up.”

  “Let’s get back to Whitner,” I said. “When did you first meet him?”

  “He showed up in July sometime. He thought he had me figured, but I got more out of him than he did me.”

  “Money?” I asked.

  “I let him buy me things. Why not?”

  I couldn’t think of a reason. We left Sadie and went outside into the heat.

  “What do you think she’ll do now?” I asked.

  “Beats me, but she’ll land on her feet. Maybe she’ll find someone to marry. She’s getting a little long in the tooth for all this playing around.”

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “Work on Elwell’s kid. But I better go alone.”

  “All right.”

  We parted and I took a car up to the Elwells’. If I was going to find someone on the train who remembered Charlie, I’d need a photograph. Aunt Nell answered the door. She came out and closed the door behind her.

  “You better not come in, Mr. Reese. Your name is mud right now. Emmie’s mother is sure you’re leading her little girl to ruin.”

  “I am sorry, but I’m not sure I’m doing the leading. My family reputation notwithstanding.”

  “Where’s Emmie now?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes, honestly.”

  “Over at the races in Fort Erie. But perhaps we could put off telling Mrs. McGinnis that.”

  “What have you done to our Emmie, Mr. Reese?” Aunt Nell laughed.

  “Me? I was left here. But I assure you she’s being escorted by a man of impeccable character.”

  “Well, I hope so. Charlie called and said he had invited you to dinner.”

  “Yes, but maybe we should postpone that,” I suggested. “The reason I’m here is that I have a rather odd request to make.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you have a recent photo of Charlie I can borrow?”

  “Charlie? Whatever for?”

  I went ahead and told her what for and she took it very well. She went in and came out again with a photo and told me to be careful with it. I thanked her and went back downtown. On the way I
walked the route to Whitner’s cellar hole just to make sure I had the geography correct. There was no logical reason Whitner would be on Oakland Street, coming from or going to the Elwells’. But if someone had come out to talk to him, they might have strolled in that direction. It would definitely be more secluded.

  I went back to the hotel to wash up and then consulted a railway guide. The train Charlie took from Rochester would leave Buffalo at eight o’clock. My best chance was to find the porter who had been on Charlie’s car. I walked over to the train station to see if it would be possible to find the porters who worked on a particular train, perhaps while they were preparing for tonight’s run. But I was told the cars would be brought in from the other side of town and that I wouldn’t be allowed in the yards anyway. I would have to take the train, at least as far as Rochester, the first stop.

  It was now after six o’clock, so I walked over to the Iroquois to see if Keegan had returned from Fort Erie. He was up in his room.

  “Here, you can look at this while I wash up.” He handed me a thick file. “That just arrived from New York.”

  It was a file on Jack Whitner, aka Jonathan Whitman, aka Joseph Wellman. Apparently, he liked to be able to use the monogrammed handkerchiefs he got for Christmas. He had twice been convicted of insurance fraud and spent a short time in prison. Since then, he’d been working for Keegan.

  “You hired someone convicted of insurance fraud?”

  “You know what they say: set a thief to catch a thief.”

  “You weren’t worried he’d use the information from your files for his own ends?”

  “He didn’t have access to the files. At least, he wasn’t supposed to.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “Well, for the same reason I didn’t tell him about you. He was working on something for me. I didn’t see any connection to Buffalo, but as you know, one can never be sure where these things lead. With hindsight, I admit it was a mistake hiring him.”

  “I think you’ll find he had a friend or two in the file room.”

  “Yes, I have people looking into that.”

  “I’ll pass the file on to Donahy.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “You know, we had a very good day at the races. I’m sorry you missed it.”

  “Good in what way?”

  “Oh, we both did very well. Your Miss McGinnis seems to know a great deal about horses.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Perhaps she was getting tips from her friend. A fellow named Whitey. Whitey Schuler. He said he knew you as well.”

  “Oh, yes, we’re old friends.”

  “Did you know he travels in a private car?”

  “I heard that.”

  “He asked me about my visit and I told him how much I enjoyed the lake sturgeon, but was disappointed in not finding any smoked eel. He said that was no problem, he’d have some sent to the hotel for me. And he doesn’t even know me. I’ll need to think of some way to thank him.”

  “Did Miss McGinnis go home from the station?”

  “She did, yes. But I suggested she come back in for dinner. Of course you’re invited as well.”

  “I’m afraid I need to catch an eight o’clock train.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “No place. But I want to talk to a porter and the easiest way to find him will be to take the train to Rochester and hop one back.”

  “Well, we were planning on dining early. As soon as the eel arrives.”

  There was a knock at the door and a bellhop told us the smoked eel was in the kitchen. We went down and Emmie was waiting in the lobby.

  “I hear you had a profitable afternoon,” I said.

  “Yes, in more ways than one.” She was wearing a sly smile.

  “Come on, you two,” Keegan insisted. “You can talk over dinner.”

  The eel was brought out at once. And there was a lot of it.

  “Your friend was most generous with us, Miss McGinnis.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Just how much did you win?” I asked Emmie.

  “I made forty-five dollars. Can you believe it? That’s more than the Elevator Company pays me in a month.”

  “You didn’t need to hobble any horses, did you?”

  “Oh, no. It was perfectly square.”

  “Was it?” I smiled. “And how did your friend Mr. Schuler do?”

  “Equally well.”

  “You mean, he was content winning forty-five dollars?”

  “No, I meant equally well on a percentage basis.”

  “I see. And how did you find the track?”

  “It was a fast track today, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Keegan?”

  Keegan nodded. He had cleared the platter and now was going after the remains that Emmie had neglected from her own serving. “You don’t mind, do you, Miss McGinnis?”

  “No, certainly not. I think smoked eel must be an acquired taste.”

  After the eel, the rest of dinner was spartan by Keegan’s standards. Which is to say there was barely enough to feed four ravenous teamsters. Emmie tried repeatedly to probe Keegan about Whitner, and his wife’s visit, but he just gave her a series of elliptical answers. This routine must have gone on all afternoon, but it was obvious Keegan found it most amusing.

  “When are you leaving for your train, Harry?” he asked.

  “I guess soon.” I hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of Emmie, but now I had to tell her about Charlie’s story and my plan to verify it.

  “I’ll come with you,” she offered.

  “There’s no need,” I told her. But the matter had been decided before I opened my mouth. We left Keegan to his brandy and cigar.

  21

  At the station, I bought a newspaper and two coach tickets for Rochester. Emmie had left her now bulging bankroll at home. As soon as the train got going, we made our way to the sleeping cars. I showed Charlie’s photo to the porters of the two cars but neither remembered him. As we were leaving, the second man stopped me.

  “Did you say he got on in Rochester?”

  “Yes, Saturday evening.”

  “Then he might have been put on the sleeper they add there. You’ll need to check with Johnson. He’ll be working the same car tonight.”

  “What’s the next stop after Rochester?” I asked.

  “Syracuse. We arrive there at 11:40.”

  I thanked him and gave him a quarter. We went back to our car and sat down.

  “If we’re lucky, we’ll get back to Buffalo in time for breakfast. What will your mother think then?”

  “Poor mother. How is it Aunt Nell knew I’d gone to the race track?”

  “I stopped by the house to ask for that picture of Charlie, and she asked me. Does your mother know you’ve followed your brother’s path to perdition?”

  “No. But what will I tell her tomorrow?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Perhaps you were kidnapped?”

  “Ha-ha.” She left me to my newspaper for a while, but not long enough to finish a story. “Mr. Keegan knows something he’s not telling, Harry.”

  “Does he?”

  “You heard how evasive he became whenever I mentioned Whitner.”

  “Do you think they conspired to kill your uncle?”

  “Well, if they did, he’d have a reason to kill Whitner.”

  “To keep him quiet? Of course, neither of them had a motive to kill your uncle.”

  I then told Emmie all about Whitner having worked for Keegan. But she wasn’t ready to let Keegan off.

  “But maybe that gives Keegan a motive for killing Whitner. Did you find out where Keegan was on Saturday? Was he back by Sunday evening?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t I leave that to you to investigate?”

  “All right, I will. There must be a receipt or something. Where does Keegan carry his wallet?”

  “Emmie, given that Keegan provides me with the majority of my income, it might be in the b
est interests of our little family if you refrained from stealing the man’s wallet.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  I went back to my newspaper and had read the better part of a paragraph when Emmie interrupted again.

  “You must believe Charlie, or we wouldn’t be making this trip.”

  “I’d like to believe him. But Charlie nearly made a muddle of things.” I told her Charlie’s original story and how easily the police would have seen through it.

  “Do Donahy and Inspector Stark believe Charlie?”

  “If they did, would I be on a train to Rochester?”

  “They really think Charlie is a killer?”

  “Let’s just say they’re reserving judgment.”

  This time I barely got through a sentence.

  “Wait until Inspector Stark sees what I have to show him,” Emmie crowed.

  “What?”

  “Remember I told you that the afternoon had been profitable in more ways than one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I wasn’t referring to the smoked eel.”

  “You and Whitey grabbed a few wallets working the crowd?”

  “We didn’t need to. Remember, we were winning.”

  “Can we get to the crux of the matter?”

  “I have the two thousand dollars Whitey stole from Uncle Charles.”

  “He gave it to you?”

  “Well, it took some persuasion. But it seems he used that as his stake over the last two days and won a lot of money. Several thousand. He didn’t know anyone else knew about the money. Now that they do, he wanted to make amends.”

  “He said that he wanted to make amends?”

  “Well, I suggested he should.”

  “And he found this money in the wallet?”

  “No. I think Mason made that up. Whitey searched the office before going for the police.”

  “He was probably looking for anything that could incriminate Boss Conners. Where’d he find the money?”

  “Taped behind a drawer.”

  “A very thorough search.”

  “He said that was an obvious place.”

  “So, Mason was blackmailing your uncle for two thousand dollars and he had the money to pay him off. Otherwise, how would Mason know the amount? He probably looked for it, but couldn’t find it quickly enough.”

  “But why make up a story about deliberately leaving the money there?”