The Girl on the Rush Street Bridge

by Gary Inbinder

Table of Contents

Chapter 29: Ashore, in Daylight

conclusion

“My father gave me an ultimatum: quit my job or leave the family.” Rosie broke the bad news the morning Max returned to the office.

Max looked up from his newspaper. “Have a seat, kid. You make me uncomfortable standing like that.”

“All right.” She pulled up a chair and waited for a response.

“So, your father wants you to quit. Did he give you a reason why?”

“Two men broke into our house. I had to shoot one of them in self-defense. They were after Joey and me because we work for you. We could have all been killed. Isn’t that reason enough?” She said this with a perplexed frown, as though the reason she gave was all too obvious.

Max put down the paper, reached into his breast pocket and drew out a cigar. He grabbed a box of matches from an ashtray, lit up and took a couple of puffs before answering. “Well, I guess that is a good reason. I’ll miss you, kid. You did a swell job. You won’t be easy to replace.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No, that’s not all. I’m sorry about what happened, but we’re in a risky business. You’re a valued employee. You, Joey and I make a great team. I’d hate to see it break up. But your family comes first.”

She thought a moment before saying, “I’ll deal with my family. If you still want me, I’ll stay on.”

“That’s swell, Rosie. Of course, I want you to stay. I hope you can work out things with your family, but that’s your business. Now, may I ask a personal question?”

“I guess so, if it’s one I can answer.”

“It’s simple enough. Are you sweet on Joey?”

“Is it that obvious?” She flushed with embarrassment and looked down at her hands.

“I’ve seen signs from both of you. I’m not opposed to it, if it doesn’t interfere with business. I picked Joey off the streets and taught him everything he knows. Now he’s a first-rate operative, one of the best. And he’s more like a son to me than an employee. I want what’s good for him, and you could be what he needs to make his life complete. Just promise me you’ll let him do his job.”

She looked up with a hopeful smile. “I promise.”

“All right, but there’s something for you to consider. Joey’s Catholic, and you’re Jewish. You grew up in Chicago. You know what this city’s like. We all live in our own neighborhoods, our unofficial ghettoes. Walk down the wrong street, or even the wrong side of a street and you could get a beating or worse. I’m guessing you and Joe have been giving that some consideration.”

“Yes, we have. We’ve been discussing it with Father Keenan, Joe’s parish priest.”

“I know Father Mike. He’s a good man. I’m sure you’ll work things out. But that’s your business. In the meantime, this is a detective agency, and we’ve both got plenty of work to do.”

“Yes, we do. Thanks, Max.”

Rosie was on the point of leaving, when Max added: “Don’t mention it. By the way, if there’s a wedding, am I invited?”

“Joe wants you for his Best Man.”

“Does he, now? Well, if he asks me, I’d be inclined to accept.”

“I’ll let him know.” Rosie exited the office.

Max returned to his morning paper and an article about the explosion and fire on the Lady of the Lake. The badly burned remains of two bodies had been found in the wreckage. An investigation was ongoing. Tim O’Neill had pulled strings; the fix was in. The explosion would be ruled an accident, the result of a coal bunker fire spreading to a cargo of kerosene in the hold. What’s more, Max had just deposited O’Neill’s check for five thousand dollars for finding, rescuing and safely returning Bob and Mary to their family.

* * *

A fine, clear day on the lake shore esplanade. Max and Mary gazed over the calm blue water, the forms of the city skyline reflecting on the mirror-like surface. They spotted the Potawatomie, anchored out beyond the three-mile crib. He held her kid-gloved hand with a firm but gentle pressure. Passersby glanced at them and smiled, thinking what a handsome couple they made.

“There she is, Mary. The finest gambling boat on the Great Lakes. A goldmine for Big Ed and your father.”

“Yes, she is.” She turned to Max. “Father thinks highly of you. But I suppose you already know that.”

He nodded while still looking at the boat. “We share many interests and pastimes, including high-stakes poker, pool and chess.”

“Yes, you’re his kind of man,” she said smiling and turning her eyes back toward the boat. “I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, now that my family’s moving to Chicago.”

“I suppose so. You’ll be moving in next to the barons, here on Lake Shore Drive. Davies and his family are out. They’ve gone to Switzerland for the old man’s health, so people say. Now guys are talking about your father for mayor, come the next election.”

“Yes, I’m afraid he does have that ambition. Do you have an opinion on that subject?”

Max laughed and squeezed her hand gently. He turned to her with a knowing smile. “It’s a grand system we have. Every four years the mugs get to elect the crooks who rob them. Democracy in action.”

“I thought you believed in the Square Deal, the American dream and all that?” She looked back at him with a wry smile and waited for an answer.

“Oh, I do. But I also believe in survival of the fittest and never give a sucker an even break. Don’t get me wrong. I help the poor chumps, when I can. I cast my bread upon the waters, so to speak.”

“Are you really that cynical, or are you just being sarcastic for my benefit? ‘Cracking wise’ as they say in detective fiction. You know, the last time we were here, you quoted Tennyson. What was it you said?”

“A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies... A lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, but a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.”

“Yes, that was it. A fine sentiment. Now, I’ll level with you, Max. The most thrilling, wonderful moment of my life was roaring down the road with you after you blew up the Lady of the Lake.”

“That’s swell, kid, except I didn’t blow up the boat. It was a tragic accident. I read about it in the papers, and you know the papers always print the truth.” He kept smiling and looked her straight in the eye.

“I see. And I suppose you had nothing to do with the poker night massacre at Sharkey’s?”

“Nope. I also read about that in the papers. No one’s sure who did it, but the police have a suspect, one of your kidnappers, as a matter of fact. Hal Lewis, from Detroit. Folks are already talking about Kid Lewis and his moll, Cathouse Irene. They’re the stuff legends are made of. Anyways, the cops are out looking for them, now. And Sharkey’s disappeared. The cops are looking for him, too.”

“Well, if it was Lewis, the police would have to sift through the wreckage of the Lady of the Lake to find what’s left of him. Same for Irene. If there is anything left, that is. Besides, if it was him, he would have had to be in two places at one time. Another mystery, I suppose?”

Max shrugged. “Life is full of unsolved mysteries. Anyways, if it was Lewis and he was on the boat when it blew, he’s paid for his crimes. Justice has been served.”

“What about Peg Rooney? Was justice served in her case, too? Will we read about it in the newspapers?”

“I’d say justice was served, up to a point. But we won’t read about it in the papers. I guess some news just ain’t fit to print.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. “Hey, we better get a move on, or we’ll miss the first act. Mary Garden in Pelléas et Mélisande. We sure don’t want to come in late for that.”

“No, we sure don’t.” They left the esplanade and, arm in arm, returned to the Buick parked on Lake Shore Drive.

* * *

On a warm, sunny morning, a perfect day for driving, Max took the Buick out for a spin to South Holland. He parked by Meijer’s front gate, scanned the yard and spotted the farmer busily pruning an apple tree. Max switched off the engine. The sounds of dieseling and a backfire got the farmer’s attention. He put down his pruning hook and looked toward the gate. He saw Max cheerfully waving his hand in greeting. Meijer came over to his visitor.

“Mr. Niemand, I been thinking about you. Any news?”

“Yeah, great news. May I come in?”

“Sure.” Meijer opened the gate.

Max entered and held out his hand. Meijer removed a glove and wiped his hand before shaking.

“I won’t keep you in suspense,” Max said with a warm smile. “I had a good talk with the guy who stole your hundred bucks. I guess I was so persuasive he agreed to a settlement without any further fuss. I got it right here in my pocket.” Max reached into his inner jacket pocket and produced an envelope. He handed it over to Meijer. “One thousand dollars, Mr. Meijer. Ten times compensation for your monetary loss and personal injury.”

The farmer’s hands shook as he opened the envelope and counted the bills. There were tears streaming down his wrinkled, weather-beaten face when he said, “I can’t believe it. It’s like a miracle. You have no idea what this means to me and my family.”

“Oh, I think I do, Mr. Meijer. You know, when that guy paid off, he was so remorseful I wouldn’t be surprised if he came to Jesus, right then and there.” Max could afford to be generous. He had taken more than a thousand from Sharkey’s poker table.

“I... I don’t know what to say. I must pay you something. How about a hundred? Will that do?”

“Forget about it, pal. I like doing good deeds once in a while. But as a matter of fact, there is something you could do for me, and it won’t cost you a cent.”

“Name it.”

“Tell the folks hereabouts what a swell guy I am, so I don’t get dirty looks next time I come to town.”

“I’ll sure do that, Mr. Niemand. What’s more, why don’t you come in and join us for lunch? We got Dutch Apple pie for dessert. You ain’t never tasted nothing so good as the wife’s Dutch Apple pie.”

“Dutch Apple’s my favorite. Lead on, Mr. Meijer.”

The Hawk shared a humble meal with the salt of the earth farm family. The once-suspicious wife treated him like a king, and the kids looked up to him as a hero. But Max was careful not to overstay his welcome.

On the way out, Max stopped at the gate and gave the farmer some advice: “Next time you come to Chicago, take care of your business and go home directly to your family. Stay clear of the booze, fast women, games of chance and clip joints. Remember: ‘Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.’”

“I’ll surely remember that. Thank you, and God bless you. It’s a comfort to know there are fine men like you in this world.”

Max drove back to Chicago in a good mood and feeling pleased with himself. Justice had been served, Chicago Max style. He had a Friday night dinner and theater date with Mary. Moreover, he could look forward to a Saturday night beer bust and high-stakes poker game on the Potawatomie with Ed Mahoney, Chief Crunican, Judge Moran and their new pal, Tim O’Neill.

Copyright © 2018 by Gary Inbinder

Proceed to Challenge 1037...