The Hidden Hand of Death

by Lawrence J Epstein

  “Why not have some confidence in me, Miss Levin? I’ll listen. If you are not satisfied with my response you can always walk out.”

  She ate a piece of cake.

  “They are killing the Jews, Mr. Ryder. They want to kill all the Jews in Europe.”

  She paused.

  “I can see your face, Mr. Ryder. You think I’m being a hysterical girl, that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I’ve followed what the Nazis are doing, Miss Levin. It’s horrifying. But I haven’t seen what you claim is going on.”

  “If you were there you’d know.”

  She paused again, this time to eat a hefty piece of cake.

  “I was a U-boat, Mr. Ryder.”

  “I’m sorry. You were a submarine? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The Nazis brag about getting rid of all the Jews in Berlin. That’s where I lived. But some of us Jews there continued to stay. Some hid permanently, never leaving their hiding places. Maybe it was a former boss, or a lover’s house, or just a kind family. But some of us couldn’t stay hidden. We dyed our hair blonde. We went out, mostly to the movies or to a restaurant. We were desperate to lead a normal life. You see, sometimes we stayed hidden underwater so to speak and sometimes we surfaced.”

  “Like a submarine.”

  “Yes. So we called ourselves U-boats.”

  “You’re here. How did you escape?”

  “It was a group of us. We got bicycles and went across the country. We looked very innocent, some young people out on a ride. We made it across the Swiss border. Someone there knew someone in your country and so here I am.”

  “I’m very glad you’re free, Miss Levin. But why have you come to see me? I fix problems. It seems that you have done a remarkably good job of fixing your own problems.”

  “I couldn’t fix one of my problems.”

  “And that is?”

  “My brother Isaac is still over there. He is in Poland now. He is in one of the camps. The newsreels in your theaters call them concentration camps. Some are. But some are built as murder camps, to exterminate Jews as though they were pests. He is at a brand new one of those camps. It is called Sobibor. I cannot tell you how I know this. It is not from the Jews. That is all I can say.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Have you told this to our government?

  She laughed. “Your government will not even let in enough refugees. They will not stop the camps.”

  “I apologize Miss Levin. Do you want me to speak to someone?”

  “I want you to go to Sobibor, find my brother, help him escape, and bring him to America.”

  She was staring at me.

  “Miss Levin, if I could I would free all the Jews from these camps and bring them to America. You come from a great people. But you must understand I have no powers to do what you ask. I don’t speak German. I can’t get into Poland. I wouldn’t know where to find your brother.”

  I didn’t say to her that if these camps really were used for killing, the chances were her brother was no longer even alive.

  Miss Levin began to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Ryder. I just felt so hopeless. I loved my brother. The thought of him in that camp prevents me from sleeping. It haunts my days. He’s a symbol, Mr. Ryder. Do you see that? He’s a symbol of millions of Jews trapped by the Nazis. They are led by a man who wishes to kill all of us.”

  She looked up again.

  “You’re not one of us, are you?”

  “No. But right now, I’d be very proud if I were. It is your people who have alerted us to the greatest danger to our very civilization. You don’t have to believe me, Miss Levin, but I wish with every burning vein in my body that I could save your brother, that I could kill Hitler, and make the Jews whole again. But I can’t Miss Levin.”

  She nodded.

  Then she stood up.

  “Thank you Mr. Ryder.”

  I watched as she walked out of the door, and I felt the stinging reality of powerlessness, the failure and inability to do what I was supposed to do, which was to fix the problems people brought to me.

  I pictured her brother, but the images my mind made were so painful that I shut my eyes tightly.

  It was too overwhelming to see evil and know I couldn’t fix it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I went home and wanted to punch the walls. I tried to rest because I had to find a woman to save her life.

  I started the next morning. I began by asking around. Eventually I located Joe Bendix, the man who had tailed me, in a bar on Allen Street on the Lower East Side.

  I slid into the seat next to Bendix and told the bartender to refill Bendix’ glass.

  “Now you’re following me,” Bendix said.

  “It was hard to find you.”

  “Ain’t that a good sign?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “You got something to say?”

  I ordered myself a drink. I would just pretend to sip it. I avoided alcohol when I could, but I wanted to make Bendix feel relaxed. Then I said, “I’m in a generous mood. I’ve got more money for you in exchange for information.”

  Bendix took a long swallow.

  “I’m thirsty.”

  I signaled and the bartender was back to see Bendix.

  “Look,” I said, “You know Remington hired me to find his wife’s sister.”

  “Yeah, I know. So what?”

  “So is someone planning to kill her if I do find the woman?”

  “You got a big mouth.”

  “Ever since I was a kid.”

  “You said something about money.”

  “I said something about money for information.”

  “Let’s see the dough.”

  I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter.

  “This is going to somebody, Bendix. It might as well be you.”

  “Truer words were never said.”

  “So, can you help me out?”

  “You know the woman? You like her?”

  “Let’s say I’d like to see her safe.”

  “Then you ain’t gonna like what I have to say. I figure you don’t like it, you’ll walk away with your little green paper friend.”

  “I’m paying for information, not information I like.”

  Bendix nodded.

  “It’s hard to find her. We don’t even have her name really. We could get some dough from Remington’s brother.”

  “So nobody’s pushing too hard.”

  “Here’s the part you ain’t gonna like. There’s this one guy. Hey it’s funny ‘cause his name is Guy.”

  “Guy who?”

  “Guy Roarke. He’s been talking this up. Says we got a debt to Remington. Roarke, he got pulled from jail by Remington. Roarke didn’t have the money for bail. He would have rotted there. But one of Remington’s guys knew him. Told Remington, Roarke had fists that could come in handy. So Remington got him out, paid him, took care of him. And so now Roarke says he wants to pay Remington back. Now this I don’t know. It’s possible Remington’s brother is in touch with Roarke.”

  “And everyone else is backing off?”

  “I suppose so. I don’t really know.”

  I pushed over the hundred.

  “At least you’re honest. This is for the information and for you to deliver a message.”

  “Call Western Union.”

  “You’re right here, Bendix.”

  “How much?”

  “First let me tell you what you’ve got to do.”

  Bendix was silent.

  “I want you to get the word out. Personally. Anyone who touches the sister is going to meet me in a dark alley and it is not going to end up walking out of the alley. Tell them Ryder is making a personal promise.”

  “I can do that for three hundred.”

  I handed two hundred to Bendix.

  “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

  “What about Roarke?”

  “I’m goin
g to speak to Mr. Roarke myself.”

  “Is he going to disappear?”

  “What? You want to make more money by making him pay you for the information that I’m after him?”

  “You’d make a good crook, Ryder?”

  “I’ll stick to fixer. It’s more honest.”

  I took out a couple of twenties.

  “This is for you not talking to Roarke.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Where do I find Roarke?”

  Bendix looked down.

  “I ain’t supposed to say.”

  “Come on. Don’t try to get more money out of me. Just tell me where I can talk to him.”

  “You know that hospital on Lenox Avenue?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He goes there every afternoon. And, before you ask me I don’t know why. I think he’s real sick and wants to make things right before he dies.”

  “How will I recognize Roarke?”

  Bendix grinned.

  “He wears a white flower in his lapel. Maybe it’s a carnation. Maybe it’s a rose. I know bullets not flowers.”

  “Good.”

  “Ryder?”

  “What?”

  “You’re a strange man. I’m guessing you don’t even know the sister. You got no reason to take care of her.”

  I ignored him and got up to walk out of the bar.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I wandered into the hospital and went to the front desk. There was a woman there who looked tired. I asked her about Guy Roarke.

  “Are you a member of his family, sir?”

  I smiled.

  “Can’t you tell by my face? We’re brothers.”

  “Oh.”

  She looked down at her papers.

  “I don’t have a record of a brother.”

  “You’re touching on a delicate subject.”

  “We have that a lot here, sir. He is in Room 356 this afternoon.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took the stairs, found the room, and walked to the opposite wall in the hallway to peek inside. One man lying in a bed. He was breathing heavily. I walked to a desk with no nurse there and took a folder.

  Then I came back to the room and strode quickly inside. I looked down at the folder and then up.

  “You’re Mr. Roarke.”

  “How come you ain’t dressed as a doctor?”

  “You sound like my mother. It’s my day off. They said they needed me to look at you.”

  “I’m dying ain’t I?”

  I opened the folder and flipped through.

  “Let me put it this way, Mr. Roarke. You owe any money you should pay it or forget about it.”

  “That ain’t good news.”

  “You got unfinished business, forget about it. Just let it go.”

  Roarke nodded.

  “I got to get out of here. One problem to fix and then I can quietly go to Hell, which is where I’m headed. God don’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

  “Maybe I can get somebody to fix it for you. Tell me the problem.”

  “You know how to kill someone.”

  “You kidding, Mr. Roarke? I’m a doctor. I’ve killed lots of people. But not on purpose.”

  Roarke tried to laugh, but he struggled.

  “I promised a guy to kill a young woman. That’s sort of the story. And I got to do it.”

  “Where is the woman? I can bring her here.”

  Roarke turned his head sideways.

  “You crazy, doc? I just said I wanted to kill her, and you say you want to bring her here.”

  “So you can see her. I’m hoping then you won’t kill her.”

  “Nah. I’ve got to. It’s a matter of honor.”

  I opened my mouth but words didn’t come out.

  I grabbed a chair and sat down in the bed. Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a needle.

  “What’s that, doc?”

  “It’s a medicine to help solve the problem.”

  “What about the woman?”

  “You tell me where she is and I’ll bring her here. Just like I said. If you want to kill her, that’s between you two. But you look serious, and I’ve got to try to stop you. The only way I can think is if you see her as a person not a victim.”

  “That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard a doctor say.”

  “So I’m going to help you relax. Tell me her name and address and I’ll get her.”

  “Forget it. You’re strange. I don’t even think you’re a real doctor.”

  I smiled.

  “I’m not. Game over. They told me not to excite you. But you’re too smart. I can see that.”

  I leaned forward and whispered. “Everett Remington sent me. I’m your back-up in case you needed one. I’ve been waiting and, no offense, but it looks like you need me.”

  “What did Everett tell you?”

  I shrugged. “About his brother’s wife and the sister that may have some secrets. He said her name used to be Amy Pascal.”

  Roarke nodded.

  “Why didn’t he tell me about you?”

  “He thought you might be offended at the idea of having a back-up. He thought you might think he didn’t trust you. But as life turned out, it was a pretty good idea.”

  This was the key moment. All I could do was wait.

  “That’s really strange. When I got sick, I told Everett about it. He arranged a guy from out of town.”

  “Chicago, right?”

  “No Detroit.”

  “Oh I know about him. I think he backed out.”

  Roarke shook his head. “I don’t think you know the whole story. Everett is holding the money. This guy from Detroit finds the sister if I can’t. Then he kills her. And then he kills a whole family. It’s a hit man’s dead wife’s family. Everett has the money for that too. I mean in case I can’t do all that. So I don’t understand why there’s a second back-up.”

  “Roarke, I don’t think the guy from Detroit was dependable. You know his name?”

  “Sure. It was Ice Pick Jones. And he’s very dependable.”

  “Is that what they told you?”

  “Yeah.”

  I shook my head. I had a new opponent.

  “Look, Roarke. I know Ice Pick very well. That’s made up, the Detroit part. He’ll lie about killing the girl. I’ve got to find him.”

  Roarke looked confused.

  Join the club, I thought.

  “I don’t know what to do. Nobody else as far as I know even heard about the sister except Ice Pick. What’s your name?”

  “Jimmy Bosco. They call me Knuckles on account of I know how to hit people.”

  Roarke nodded. “That’s a good skill.”

  “I can’t stay for long. I don’t want them to see me.”

  “I guess I better tell you. I won’t be around long. And you guys are gonna have to work it out. Anyway, I don’t know about the girl for sure. The last I checked from some people looking, and they think she’s a broad now named Norah London who lives in Brooklyn.”

  “Brooklyn is a big place. Do you know the address where she is?”

  Roarke shook his head.

  “No idea. Just Brooklyn. And that might not be her name.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I waited for Roarke to turn away to cough. Then I quickly stuck the needle into Roarke’s arm.

  “Hey, why did you do that?”

  “It’s a good way for you to get some sleep.”

  “I don’t feel so good.”

  Roarke started to scream for a nurse.

  I put my hand over Roarke’s mouth.

  It took a full minute before Roarke stopped struggling.

  I shook my head.

  I knew I needed to get out of the room and if possible out of the hospital in three minutes.

  That’s when Roarke was going to die.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Brooklyn, New York

  Now it was a search for Norah London. And Ice Pick.

 
I checked the phone book for her name. I figured she couldn’t be that dumb, but I had come across a lot of dumb people in my life. I wasn’t even totally positive she knew she was being targeted or at least that it was being done by professionals. Then I called hotels and rooming houses. No Norah London.

  I didn’t want to go where I had to go.

  But there was no choice. I stayed away from there when I could, but events too frequently conspired against me.

  I went to the corner of Saratoga and Livonia Avenues in Brownsville. To the residents who didn’t know any better, the store there was supposed to sell candy. It was open twenty-four hours a day.

  The Midnight Rose Candy Store was under the elevated part of the number 3 subway train.

  I walked inside and saw Rosie Gold, a friendly looking woman in her sixties who seemed to outsiders to own the place.

  “Hey, Ryder. You make yourself a stranger. That’s no good. Come. Sit. You think I don’t remember you like a malted milk?”

  “It’s business, Rosie. Is the Lord High Executioner around?”

  “Nah. Albert and Lepke got a meeting.”

  “I need to talk to someone.”

  “Sure. I wish Kid Twist was still around. He could handle business. Ah, well. There’s no Abe Reles anymore so you got to talk to Fingers.”

  I nodded, recalling that Reles had fallen seven floors from his room. The line among the men in the candy store was that “The canary could sing but he couldn’t fly.”

  Rosie Gold walked to the back wall with its long line of telephones and into the room behind the store.

  I looked around.

  A Brooklyn candy store.

  The headquarters of Murder Incorporated. Those pay phones gave the details of the hit. The killer never knew the victim. It was expensive to hire one of the men to do the killing. The killer got a basic fee and then an extra fee of $1,000 to $5,000 depending on the quality of the killer and the victim.

  The ice pick was the weapon of choice for Murder Incorporated. There was no noise. The deaths were quick. There were no bullets left behind. The weapon was cheap and easily obtained.

  Fingers came out of the back room. He was famous for his appetite and still had a napkin around his neck.

  “Jack Ryder. You looking for work?”

  “I’m looking for a woman.”

  Fingers laughed.

  “We got plenty of them. What do you want? Tall, short?”