Chicago Max
by Gary Inbinder
1906. It’s a frigid Chicago New Year, and detective Max Niemand has a hot new case. A meeting between a high society playboy and an underworld denizen at the notorious First Ward Ball catches Max’s attention.
The chance encounter draws Max into a tangled web of murder, deceit, racketeering and corruption. He follows the clues and leads from Chicago’s most dangerous slums to the Gold Coast mansions of the Windy City’s social elite.
His investigation involves a variety of characters, both male and female, from all walks of life. They are playing a dangerous game for high stakes, and Max doesn’t know if he can trust any of the players. He’ll need all his detective skills to solve this case, and a mistake could cost him his reputation or even his life.
Chicago ain't no sissy town. — Michael "Hinky Dink" Kenna,
First Ward Alderman, 1897-1923
Chapter 10: Lil Diamond
Max arrived at the office before dawn to check his books and consider his finances. He sipped black coffee, smoked a cigar and fidgeted with a pencil while examining his balance sheet by the light of a desk lamp. This would be a good job for Olga, he thought. If I can afford her.
“L” trains rumbled past at early rush-hour intervals, rattling the half-shaded windowpanes and filling the dark office with brief flashes of electric light. Max closed the books and leaned back in his chair. Would he stay on the Levy case? That might depend on the information he got from Weasel that evening; Jimmy Dolan had hinted it would be worth at least the sixty dollars Max was prepared to pay.
He opened a desk drawer and pulled out the Levy file. Still no word from Lutkus or Wagner. But it’s early. He made a note on his calendar to follow up with them the next day. If they come up empty, should I listen to Rosen and drop the case? Max frowned and poured another cup of coffee.
The sun rose over the lakefront. Dawn cast a cone of light on the rippling waters, aiming straight for Chicago like a police searchlight probing the shadowy recesses of the half-sleeping city.
* * *
Lil Diamond reeked of cheap perfume. She must have bathed in it, Max thought. Too much paint and powder gave her the appearance of a corpse laid out in a second-rate funeral parlor. Her raspberry silk dress, broad-brimmed feathered hat, and faux fur coat were department store markdowns, the best she owned. She wanted to make a good impression.
Max was about to break for lunch when Lil banged on the frosted glass door and burst into his office. “Will you please help Benny?” were the first words out of her mouth.
Max greeted her courteously, helped her to a chair and offered her a cigarette and a light. This might be worth something.
After a minute or two, she calmed down. Max asked, “Now, Miss Diamond. Please, tell me how I can help you?”
Lil stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on Max’s desk. She frowned and squinted as if she didn’t understand him. “It ain’t me that needs your help, Mr. Niemand. It’s Benny. His folks, the cops and the DA are doin’ him dirt.”
“I understand, Miss Diamond. But you’ve come to me on Benny’s behalf. So I’ll ask again. How may I be of assistance?”
“You can find out who killed that son-of-a-bitch Weinberg and get Benny out of jail. I ain’t askin’ no favors. I can pay.” Instead of reaching into her purse, Lil lifted her skirts and pulled a wad from her stocking. “How much will it take to clear Benny?”
Max scrutinized her roll and guessed she had upwards of a hundred dollars. A lot of dough for a woman in her situation. He proceeded cautiously, professionally. “Miss Diamond, you must understand I can’t guarantee results. It’s a very tough matter, but I do have some leads. I’ll consider taking the case for a fifty-dollar retainer plus expenses.”
Lil eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Then she peeled off two twenties and a ten. Before handing them over, she said, “I suppose you can’t guarantee nothin’, but can you at least say there’s a good chance of getting him off?”
Max stroked his mustache thoughtfully before answering. “I think there’s a chance, Miss Diamond. It depends on how my leads pan out. But frankly, I’ll be up against Benny’s family, their lawyers, the police, the District Attorney and the judge.” He did not bother to mention the most dangerous obstacle: Moe’s killer or killers. “Here’s what I’ll do. If I don’t get results within thirty days, we’ll meet and confer—”
“Confer?” Lil broke in. “What’s that mean?”
“Sorry, Miss Diamond. It means we’ll get together and discuss the situation.”
“OK, I get it.”
“If at that time you decide it isn’t worth pursuing further, I’ll keep the retainer but I won’t charge you for any expenses I’ve incurred. So we’ll have done our best for Benny and you’ll be out fifty at most. On the other hand, if things look promising and you decide to continue, I’ll charge you for expenses, but I’ll try to keep them to a minimum.”
Lil pursed her lips and pondered the offer. After a minute of silent deliberation she said, “OK, Mr. Niemand, that’s fair,” and handed him the fifty.
Max pocketed the bills. He smiled and said, “Thank you, Miss Diamond. Now, I’d like to ask you some questions. It won’t take long. Would you care for some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
Lil crossed her legs and smoothed her skirts. Then she fiddled nervously with some ribbon trim on her dress. Without looking up she said, “Oh... yeah, sure. That’d be swell.”
Max served the coffee; then he began questioning her in a friendly way. He even managed to slip in a compliment about her appearance, which she seemed to appreciate. Gaining her confidence, he learned that she had not seen Benny since he was arrested, that the Levy family and their lawyers would not speak to her, and she was afraid of the police. She had reason to be. In addition to her job in the vaudeville chorus line, Lil turned tricks to supplement her income. This revelation explained the wad in her stocking. It also opened the door to an important line of inquiry.
“Do you know any of the girls at the Gardenia Club?”
“I guess I know them all, more or less. Why do you ask?”
“It could be important to my investigation. Do you know Nora Iverson?”
“Yeah, I know her but not well. She left the club. Ain’t seen her in a while.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“No, I sure don’t.”
Max made a quick mental note to get a message to Lutkus as soon as Lil left. He would not wait until tomorrow to follow up. “Do you know if she’s particularly close to any of the other girls, either at the Gardenia or the Everleigh Club?”
Lil wrinkled her brow and thought hard before answering. “Not at the Gardenia. She kept pretty much to herself, like she was hiding something. But I did hear talk about a girl at the Everleigh Club. They were real friendly, if you know what I mean.”
“I see. Do you know, or have you heard any talk about a swell named Prescott Fielding? He caused a ruckus at the Everleigh Club a few years back. The houses banned him, but I heard they let him back in at the Gardenia.”
Lil winced as though she had been slapped. For a tense moment, she stared silently at Max. Then: “Can I have another cigarette?”
Max gave her a light. Lil gripped his hand to steady the match; he could feel her trembling. She took a deep drag and exhaled a plume of grey smoke. Then she answered: “I’ve heard of him, all right. He’s a rat, likes to hurt women. That’s his thing. He pays extra, and some girls will do anything for money. I hope I never sink that low. I hear they take a shot of dope before he does his business with them.”
“Was Nora one of those girls?”
Lil frowned and shook her head. “No, not Nora. At least, not as far as I know.”
“What about Nora’s friend at the Everleigh Club?”
Lil’s eyes widened. “I suppose you’ve heard the rumors about that?”
“I’ve heard that Fielding got too rough with one of the girls and, to get even, she shot him in the... from behind with a little .22.”
“That’s the rumor that went around, but the girls at the Everleigh and the Gardenia think there was more to it than that. They tried to get Nora to talk, but she kept her mouth shut. I guess she’s scared, or someone paid her off. Maybe both.”
“Do you know the name of Nora’s friend at the Everleigh Club?”
“No, and I guess them that know ain’t talking.”
Max nodded and penciled a couple of notes in the case file. Then he changed the subject. “Bugsy Battaglia and Vito Capucci, the guys who picked a fight with Benny. Do you know any more about them that might be helpful in this case?”
Lil scowled and spat out the answer. “That scum? Two of the meanest gangsters on the Levee. I know enough to keep away from them. And Benny shoulda kept quiet when Bugsy razzed him. That’s life, Mr. Niemand. When you’re up against it, you gotta take crap and learn to live with it.”
“I understand, Miss Diamond. This is important. I suspect Battaglia and Capucci have some connection to Weinberg’s murder. If you hear anything along those lines, play dumb and say nothing to anyone about it except me. OK?”
She stared at him and took a deep breath before saying, “All right. Don’t worry, I’ll do like you said. I don’t want no trouble with those two.”
“Good. You might also pick up some information about Nora and her friend. If you do, treat it the same way. Play dumb and say nothing about it to anyone except me.”
“OK. What if I get questions from the cops or the Levys’ lawyers?”
“Tell them you’ve retained me to investigate the case and refer them to me.”
Lil looked down at her hands and said nothing. Had she made a mistake? She wanted to help Benny and she trusted Max, but maybe it would have been better — certainly safer — to forget her lover and move on. She sighed and looked directly at Max with a sad but resigned smile. “Thanks, Mr. Niemand. I’m counting on you to get Benny off the hook.”
Max smiled confidently. “Don’t worry, Miss Diamond. I won’t let you down.”
* * *
As soon as Lil left the office, Max telephoned Jonas at the Back of the Yards saloon and gave him a message for Al Lutkus. Then he lit a cigar, poured another cup of coffee and delved into the Levy file. How many people knew he was investigating the Weinberg murder? Of those, how many could he trust? Who was the guy shadowing him? Was the tail connected to Levy and Weinberg, or was it something else? Max had plenty of enemies, but he also had lots of well-placed friends and acquaintances. Some would tip him off either for friendship’s sake or favors owed, others for a price. Given his budget, he naturally preferred the former to the latter.
Max kept at it until the office grew so dark he had to switch on the lights. Outside, the rumbling and squealing on the elevated structure magnified as the trains began running on their rush hour schedule. He glanced at his watch and checked it against the wall clock. Still nothing from Lutkus. Don’t want to keep Weasel waiting. Better get ready to go.
Max reached for his revolver and shoulder holster. He checked the cylinder and the action. Then he opened a desk drawer and took out a new gadget specially made for him by a local gunsmith. This was an early version of the moon clip, a device for speed-loading his Smith & Wesson .38. He inserted six cartridges in the clip to supplement the six in his cylinder. Then he strapped on his shoulder holster and went to the coat rack for his hat, overcoat and galoshes.
Max locked the office and rode the elevator down to the lobby. As he exited the building, he glanced up and down the block, and then scanned the other side of the street. No sign of the shadow. He looked up at the sky. Good cloud cover; no moon. Satisfied with the conditions and the absence of a tail, he walked on to the stairway that led up to the elevated platform.
Copyright © 2015 by Gary Inbinder
