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Authors: Lawrence H. Levy

Second Street Station (21 page)

BOOK: Second Street Station
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“So far, everything I’ve said can be attributed to the ranting of an inexperienced woman. Once I have some concrete proof, then by all means, take over.” She didn’t want to ever face that prospect, but one dilemma at a time. Sounding rational and devoid of any emotion that could be classified as “female behavior” was more important now.

Chief Campbell considered Mary’s words. They made sense. He also knew two attempts had been made on her life, possibly three if one counted the escapade in the alley. The question he asked himself was, if Mary were a man, would he allow her to continue? Then he realized that question had no relevance. He would have never put an inexperienced man on this case. He actually had no power at all in this matter. If he took Mary off the case, Briggs and Jourdan would remove him from supervising her and reinstate her. They wouldn’t be satisfied until the case resulted in Mary’s utter failure or her death, and he was sure it didn’t make a difference to them which one it was.

“All right, Mary, you get your wish on one condition. I want daily reports from you. If and when I decide you need assistance, you will accept it gladly, or you’re gone.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me, Chief. And in the spirit of our new agreement, I would like to avail myself of your assistance now. I need to borrow your carriage.”

28

Refreshed and feeling chipper, Barney Wallenski nearly skipped out of Second Street Station and into the hired carriage that was waiting for him. He had been arrested twice before and had never experienced such a quick release or such royal treatment. He was moving up in the world. Work for powerful people, and you get powerful perks. As his carriage took off down the street, he was considering splurging on a steak dinner that night. Before that, he would stop by his ex-wife’s apartment to flaunt his success. He was very much looking forward to the rest of his day.

Waiting down the block in Chief Campbell’s carriage, Mary watched Wallenski drive off and signaled the driver to follow him. She had cautioned him not to get too close. She didn’t want Wallenski to spot her. She was sure he would eventually meet up with his employer, and whether that person was an emissary from Edison or Morgan or someone else, she wanted to be there when he did.

Wallenski made two stops, one to buy cigarettes and another to purchase cologne. He liked finishing off a good dinner with a smoke. He thought he might ask the woman who lived down the hall to join him. He sensed that after a fine dinner she might be the right kind of grateful.

Mary was becoming concerned. She had hoped he had a meeting planned, but there seemed to be no urgency to his actions. As Wallenski meandered, Mary’s mind wandered to Charles and the bizarre twist their relationship had taken. How could she have been so blind to his condition? She would find Charles, and she was convinced that if she was patient, he would eventually let her help him. And patience would also net results with Wallenski. It had better. She didn’t have any other choice.

The Bowler Hat was back in the game. It was earlier than even he had hoped, and though he had been specifically told it was only for one assignment and not to expect more so soon, it still felt good, a pleasant diversion from his current duties. Besides, words meant nothing. If he performed well and others took notice, it could lead to another assignment. He was to perform this service for a trusted ally of one of his regular employers.
One at a time,
he thought. Nothing was permanent in this business.

He had been informed the reason for this quick change of heart was that their most trusted men were presently on assignment. He took no offense at it. He was confident he would soon show them his value and return to the ranks of the most trusted.

As the Bowler Hat mopped the sweat that was beginning to stream down his brow, he grunted. He had always detested those who sweat. It showed frailty and a pathetic lack of character. Yet here he was, sweating.

Wallenski made a third stop. Mary was beginning to think her theory about him was flawed. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. This time, though, when he got out of his carriage, it moved on without him, and he entered a building. Mary’s driver had parked on an adjacent street before she directed him to take Wallenski’s spot after he had gone inside. She glanced at the building he had entered and instantly slapped her leg in frustration. She couldn’t follow him inside. She couldn’t follow any man inside. It was the Russian baths!

Wallenski got a couple of towels and a key to a locker from the burly Russian attendant. He whistled as he entered the locker room and got undressed. Wallenski once again thought about the woman down the hall and his ex-wife, and he had an inspiration. What would it cost to get both of them in bed with him? He snickered, knowing how impossible that would be to arrange; even if he could, he’d probably die in the crossfire. But the woman down the hall was a definite possibility. He could tell she fancied him. He looked in the mirror and brushed his hair back. He was in no hurry. He was early.

So was the Bowler Hat. It had become a habit when he was on a job. He liked to get there first, peruse the lay of the land, and prepare for all possibilities. Performing this ritual marked the territory as his own, much like a dog claimed home ground. It made him feel more in charge when the actual assignation occurred. The goal was to always get the edge, and the Bowler Hat was good at doing this, very good. The subject wasn’t, and from what he had been told, he wasn’t very good at anything. The man had been given orders to discourage someone who presented a problem. He had taken it upon himself to handle it by elimination, and he had failed to do so. That made his employer vulnerable.

The Bowler Hat fully understood the situation. The decision to eliminate wasn’t the problem. That was always an option. No one would have been upset if it had been executed cleanly and couldn’t be traced. But this man was unmistakably a bungler.

When he had heard the details of his assignment, the Bowler Hat was able to ascertain the identity of the ally who had engaged him. He was a very powerful man, and in his dealings with him, the Bowler Hat had found him to be a perfectionist. So he was surprised that he had been so careless in his choice of hire. Still, the man had every right to be upset that his hire couldn’t even handle a woman.

As he started to sweat more profusely, the Bowler Hat wrapped another towel around himself as he waited patiently in the steam bath for Barney Wallenski.

Mary had the driver move their carriage further up the block. When Wallenski exited, she didn’t want him to see her there waiting for him. She was able to keep an eye on the entrance from where she was. She alighted from the carriage to fully inspect the surroundings. In order to make sure she had everything covered, she walked to the corner and peered down the other side of the block. Alarmed, she immediately took off, running as fast as she could toward the entrance of the Russian baths. The meeting she had anticipated was taking place, and catching them together was essential to her plan. She hoped she wasn’t already late, for what she had seen on the side street parked halfway up the block was J. P. Morgan’s ornate carriage.

BOOK: Second Street Station
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