Chicago Max
by Gary Inbinder
Chapter 26: Detective Joey
“How would you like to make some real dough for a little detective work?”
Joey stared at Max in stunned disbelief. After a moment he came to his senses and sputtered, “I sure would, Mr. Niemand. What’s the job?”
Max took a puff on his cigar. Then he leaned forward over his desk and looked Joey in the eye with a sober frown meant to impress the kid with the seriousness of the situation. “You’re going to play messenger boy, a job you’re familiar with. But this time you’ll have a uniform and a bicycle, like a kid working for a legit service. Do you think you can handle it?”
Having recovered from the shock of Max’s offer, Joey answered without hesitation. “You bet I can, Mr. Niemand.”
“Good.” Max rolled back in his swivel chair and opened a desk drawer. He retrieved a large manila envelope addressed to Prescott Fielding and placed it on the desk. “OK, kid; here’s the dodge. You take this package to a messenger service on Division Street, I’ll give you the name and address, and ask for Maury. Tell him Max sent you. He’ll fit you out in a uniform and bicycle. You think you can handle a bicycle in the ice and snow?”
“Sure, no problem. Places where I can’t ride, I can walk it.”
“All right. You take this package to the Fielding mansion and go to the back entrance. A flunky will answer the door. You act polite but firm. Tell the flunky you got a package for Mr. Prescott Fielding. III, it’s very important and the gentleman’s got to sign for it personally. Now, here’s where you get to use your brain. What if the flunky says it’s OK, you can leave it with him, and he’ll give it to Fielding?”
“I say no, Mr. Fielding’s got to sign for it in person before I leave.”
“Good. What if the flunky says Mr. Fielding ain’t around to sign?”
“I ask when he’ll be back.”
“What if the guy says Mr. Fielding’s gone away and won’t be back for some time?”
Joey thought a moment before answering, “I ask for a forwarding address where we can wire him.”
Max smiled and leaned back in his chair. “You’re all right, kid. Now here’s the deal. You do a good job; you get a ten-spot.”
Max’s munificence left Joey dumbstruck. “You mean... you mean you’ll pay me a whole ten bucks?”
“You better clean out those big ears. That’s what I said. But listen: if you foul up, you get nothing but exercise and experience. Is it a deal?”
“Thanks, Mr. Niemand. It’s a deal. And don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”
Max nodded without saying anything. He wrote the name and address of the messenger service on a piece of paper and handed it to Joey along with the envelope. Then he reached into his pocket and took out some change. “Here’s car fare. The messenger service is right by the ‘L’ station. Any questions?”
“No, Mr. Niemand. I’m just so... so....” The kid was almost in tears with excitement and gratitude.
Max smiled. “I know, son. You’ll do fine. Remember, report straight back to me as soon as you got something. Now run along.”
After Joey left the office, Max thought, Maybe someday I’ll give him a break and teach him the trade. Then he went back to thinking about the problem at hand. He was not sure where Fielding was, but he guessed wherever it was, Olga was with him. Some people might know their whereabouts: Crunican, Ed and Big Jim came to mind. Max was not ready to go to them, at least not yet.
However, on the off-chance Fielding might still be at the family mansion, the envelope contained a real message. The note was a demand coupled with a carefully worded threat: Max wanted to meet with Fielding immediately on “urgent business concerning his relationship with Miss Boyer.” If Fielding did not agree, Max would take “appropriate action.”
His Japanese trainer had taught Max an ancient stratagem: Beat the grass to startle the snakes. He figured he was dealing with a snake that needed to be startled.
* * *
When Joey returned, the lights along Lake Street were glimmering through pelting sleet. The kid shivered and dripped moisture onto the floor in front of Max’s desk. His cheeks were red with exposure, his incipient moustache flecked with tiny white bits of frost. Joey wiped his nose on the back of his hand and tried to speak through chattering teeth.
“Hold on, kid,” Max said. He took a bottle and glass from his desk drawer and poured a stiff shot. He handed the whiskey to the kid and said, “Take it down in one gulp. It’s like medicine. Then sit and give it a rest before you try to talk. OK?”
Joey nodded and took the shot with shaky hands. He gulped the liquor and started coughing. The fit lasted about a minute before he calmed down and rested in the chair.
“You all right, Joey?”
“Yeah... yes, Mr. Niemand. Thanks.” He placed the empty shot glass on the desk and waited for Max to speak.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I went to the Fielding mansion, just like you said. I rang the back doorbell, and a guy came to answer. When I says I got an important message for Mr. Fielding, the guy says Fielding ain’t around and I should leave it. So, I says no can do, just like you told me. The guy didn’t like that, but I stuck to my story. When he said Fielding was out of town, I asked for a forwarding address to wire. He didn’t like that either, but after givin’ me some lip, he came up with an address in Florida.” Joey reached into his pocket and handed a scrap of paper to Max.
Max read the name and address of a ritzy hotel in St. Augustine. Max telephoned Maury at the messenger service.
“Hello, Maury, it’s Max. Thanks for taking care of the kid. I got one more favor to ask. Wire the Ponce de León Hotel in St. Augustine and say you got an important package for Mr. Prescott Fielding. III. I want to confirm whether the guy’s there and, if he is, I want to know when he arrived and how long he’ll be staying. OK?”
“All right, Max. I’ll telephone you as soon as I hear back from the hotel.”
Max hung up, looked at Joey and smiled. He took out his wallet, peeled off a ten and a five and handed the bills to the newsy. “You’ve done well, kid. I want you to use the extra five to get some decent clothes. You can’t look like a tramp if you’re going to work for me. And, for Pete’s sake, buy a toothbrush and powder and start scrubbing those ugly choppers before they fall out.”
“Thanks, Mr. Niemand. Do you think you’ll have more jobs like this for me?”
Max lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair. He blew a few rings toward the ceiling before answering. “Maybe. Now beat it. I’m busy.”
Joey left the office clutching more money than he had ever had at one time, the equivalent of three weeks’ income earned in one day.
Max remained in the office for another hour. Will Max forgive me? Will he understand? I doubt it. Olga’s words kept running through his mind, repeating like the sounds on a badly scratched record. Outside, the wind kicked up, driving sleet against the windowpane. He got little comfort from his whiskey and cigars. If she went to Florida with Fielding, I’ll assume it was of her own free will. If that’s the case, I’ll give up looking for her and get on with my life. But what if they never arrived in St. Augustine? Or what if Fielding was there without Olga? He would know the answers to those questions when Maury called him the next day.
Max cleared his desk and placed his files and notes in a locked drawer. “I guess she taught me a lesson about security,” he said. Then he turned out the lights, grabbed his hat and coat, and closed the office.
Copyright © 2015 by Gary Inbinder
