Authors: Howard McEwen
Jake's 8 (24 page)
That hurt her. I saw it in her eyes.
“I took nothing,” Otto said.
I heard what he said. I wasn’t sure I believed it until I saw a little flash of uh-oh in her eyes. Neither of us paid Otto any mind that he could tell.
“Tell your little dachshund to get lost for a while so we can talk.”
“Hey, mister,” he said.
“Otto, this is a friend of my family’s. We need some time to discuss family business. Take the food back to the room and I’ll meet you there.”
“What?” he asked.
“Go, Otto.” she said. It was the first time she looked at him since she looked at me. He mumbled something like a scared dog with his tail tucked between his legs. His tail fit easily there since apparently there was nothing else between his legs. He meandered down the street and around the corner carrying her box of oats and greens and sprouts.
“You seem like a man who can take care of himself… and you’re not bad looking either.”
She took a hold of my left lapel with her fingertips. I brushed them off. Even if I was interested, a man smiling back wasn’t what she was into.
“Where’s the notebook?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“It’s only safe when it’s in your father’s hands.”
“It doesn’t do me any good there.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Money. I’m tired of asking for it.”
“So you’re stealing it?”
“I heard Daddy and old Mr. Heinrich talking about it. They said it was going to make them a fortune. Daddy already has a fortune. I want one. Otto and I are going to catch a train to Akron in the morning. That’s where they make car tires. Someone there might be interested in an artificial rubber process.
“You don’t look nearly as dumb as you are.”
“Thanks… oh, wait.”
“See what I mean?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“What are you going to do? Catch a bus to Akron, walk up to a factory gate and ask for Mr. Goodyear?”
“Yes, I was.”
“They’re going to take one look at the two of you and toss you out on your cans. You, twenty-two. Him, barely that and a mouse in front of you. Those boys in Akron will eat you both alive. Boy, you are stupid.”
“Now that I’ve had time to look at your face, I don’t think you’re nearly as good-looking as I first thought.”
“I’m plenty good looking. What you need is someone who knows business. Someone with a little experience and a little seasoning. Your father would be the ideal choice but since he thinks he’s entitled to the process he came up with, he’s out.”
She was buying it.
“Who’d you have in mind?” she smiled.
“I work for Prescott Carmichael.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Through him, I have connections. Good connections. Connections that open doors in Akron.”
“You’d do that?”
“For a cut.”
“How much?”
“I’ll take your Kraut’s cut. Half.”
“Leaving Otto and me to split the other half.”
“Who cares about Otto? You don’t. Let’s go get the notebook. Tonight I’ll send some telegrams arranging some meetings and tomorrow we’ll buy two tickets to Akron. Then later, we can toast our partnership. You can stay with me.”
“You have a spare room?”
“No. You’ll share my bed.”
“What makes you think I’ll stay the night with you?”
“Because I’m good looking. And because I can get you what you want.”
She stuck out her gloved hand and we shook on it. I then followed her to the room she shared with Otto. She had me wait on the street while she went up. Twenty minutes later she came down in a hurry.
“Let’s go. Otto’s drinking. It won’t take long before he starts to act like a man.”
“You got the notebook?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
“I have it.”
“Show me.”
“I have it.”
“Show me now or I turn you back over to Otto.”
“Fine. Here.”
I took it out of her bag and I looked through it. I’ve no idea what chemical notes on an artificial rubber process might looked like, but this is what I’d expect chemical notes on an artificial rubber process to look like. There were about a hundred and fifty pages of things I couldn’t understand.
“I’ll keep a hold of these.”
“Why?”
“Because you father can easily hire some goons. Because Otto could be tough to deal with if he gets his drunk on. Because you’re a hundred and ten pounds and five two and are no good at fighting anyone off that wants them.”
“Fine, but we go tomorrow.”
“We go tomorrow.”
We started walking south down Vine toward Central Parkway and out of Over-the-Rhine. Neither of us fit in down here, her especially. We were too American looking, I guess. We both were a little relieved when we crossed the Parkway and entered our part of the city. We walked a couple of more blocks. The Panorama Hotel is at the corner of Ninth and Vine.
“You’ll stay here,” I said.
“I thought I could stay at your place.”
“No. Come to think of it, I got problems of my own to deal with before I leave.”
“A girl?”
“No. A girl’s man.”
“Oh.”
She gave me a look when she said ‘oh.’ It wasn’t jealousy. It was excitement. This dame loved to make her own trouble but enjoyed trouble wherever it came from.
I checked her in and walked her to the room. It wasn’t as nice a place as she was use to, but it had to be better than whatever room Otto had for her.
“You stay put. No leaving the room. You get hungry, have the desk send you up something.”
“I’ll get bored.”
“You leave and get seen and get picked up by someone your father hired, the deal is off. I’m going to go buy some train tickets.”
“You coming back tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll be staying here with you. You’d like that, right?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Not too stuck on Otto, are you?”
She walked over and grabbed me by the lapels and pulled my face to hers.
“Otto who?” she asked then got up on her tippy-toes and laid one on me.
It was a good kiss—not something I’d get myself moon-eyed over—but a good kiss. She dragged her lips away from mine and went back down on her heels and smiled at me.
“Otto who,” I said. “Otto Heinrich. The guy you slept with last night. The guy you set up to take the fall for stealing from your father.”
“Oh, him. Can you get past him?”
“I can get past him, I just didn’t like how quickly you were getting past him.”
She flopped down on the bed.
“Go buy our train tickets, Jake. I’ll be waiting. Right here.”
I left the room and went down to the lobby. I entered the phone booth and dropped a dime. The phone rang.
“Mr. Firebridge, it’s Jake Gibb.”
“Carmichael’s man?”
“Mr. Carmichael's man. Yeah. Still want to know where your daughter is?”
“Did you find the notebook?”
“I’ll have the notebook in Mr. Carmichael’s safe in about twenty minutes. Your daughter is at the Hotel Panorama at Ninth and Vine. Room five-o-seven.”
“Alright, I’ll be in to get the notebook tomorrow morning.”
“You getting your daughter?”
“I’ll send a man.”
“I’d be careful with that.”
“Careful with what?”
“Sending a man to your daughter’s hotel room. There’s a bed in there and she’s not against using it with a man to get what she wants.”
“Good day, Mr. Gibb.”
He hung up.
“You’re welcome,” I said and hung up the phone.
I’d taken care of Miss Firebridge. Mr. Firebridge would be happy, which meant Mr. Carmichael would be happy, which meant I should have been happy. Instead, I felt myself lifted up and spun around. I fell back hard into the seat of the phone booth.
“There’s no need to be rough, Pox.”
Pox wouldn’t do too much to me in the hotel lobby. Bill McGinn doesn’t like attention drawn.
“You never know when to quit, do you, Jake?”
He slapped me backhanded on the forehead. It’d leave a mark. When my eyes quit watering, Bill McGinn was standing large over me. He took off my hat and examined it.
“Cheap hat, Jake.”
“It keeps the sun off my head.”
“You like cheap things. Like Polly.”
“You like her too, Bill.”
“Liked, Jake. Liked. Past-tense. We’re all fools for women, aren’t we? Anyway, I took care of her.”
“Took care of?”
“Pox tells me you work for Prescott Carmichael.”
“What do you mean ‘took care of’?”
“Normally, a man disrespects me in the way that you disrespected me with Polly, that man dies, but you may be more useful to me alive. Prescott Carmichael knows people. He’s respected by people. His opinion carries weight. His lieutenant being indebted to me could be beneficial, so congratulations, Jake, you get to live.”
“What do you mean ‘took care of’?”
“I meant I put her on a bus for St. Louis. I got people there.”
“You can’t kill her, Bill.”
“Kill her? Nah, I don’t bear her any ill will. To be honest, I’d been neglecting her. To be more honest, she bored me Jake. If she moved for you like she moved for me, she bored you too. Nothing worse than being bored, right Jake?
He ruffled my hair like a man does to a boy and put my hat back on for me.
I wanted to tell him that Mr. Carmichael would fire me on the spot if the likes of Bill McGinn ever approached him because of me. I wanted to tell him that, but I wanted to live more. Or at least not have my arm broken. So I stayed shut up.
Bill McGinn gave me a chilling smile then turned and walked down the lobby stairs and into the street. Pox followed close behind. I went into the lobby washroom and straightened myself. I looked like hell. I looked scared.
Back at the office, I locked away Mr. Firebridge’s notebook. I filled in Mr. Carmichael. He didn’t need me for anything. Mrs. Johnson wasn’t holding any messages. The phone didn’t ring. The door didn’t open.
Bored again.
I grabbed my hat and left the office. I knew an Irishman who ran an honest dice game down on the river.
I owe many thanks to copywriter Erin Hooper. She's the grandest dame that I'm not married to.
Any errors in this text are mine, not hers. She did the best she could with me.
