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Authors: Richard E. Crabbe

Suspension (53 page)

BOOK: Suspension
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“My pleasure, gentlemen. Good day.”
Suddenly and with calculated afterthought, Braddock turned in the doorway. Thaddeus, who had his hand already on the knob, was brought up short.
“Tell me,” Braddock said, “do you happen to know any of these names? Let's see, ah … Matthew Emmons, Earl Lebeau, or Simon Watkins?” He gave Sangree an apologetic smile.
Their conversation had prepared Thaddeus for this possibility, but it still gave him a sudden knot in the pit of his stomach to hear those names from Braddock's lips. “I can't say that I do, Detective. Who are they? Oh wait, wasn't there a Watkins found on the ferry some time ago? I did read about that, but that's not the same man, I take it.”
Braddock said nothing for a long moment before he spoke. “You don't know any of them,
you say?”
Braddock asked again.
“Of course not, Detective.” Thaddeus sounded offended. “Why should I know these men?”
“Quite true, Mr. Sangree. Why indeed?” Then he asked one more question, his pencil poised once more. “Oh … your address, if you please, sir?”
A minute later the captain closed his door on their backs with a huge sigh of relief, which soon turned to anger. “Fuck!” he cursed through gritted teeth.
“S
o, Eli, anything seem odd to you about that meeting?” Tom asked as they went out the front door of Sangree's building. Jaffey had a few ideas and Tom did too. They kicked them back and forth, weighing the possibilities as they walked to the El. One thing they both agreed on more or less was their suspicion of Sangree. It was nothing they could prove but more a collection of observations that bothered them. The train roared and clanked over their heads and almost drowned Jaffey out. He had to shout.”I thought that for a
man of business he had damn few papers on his desk. Most offices I've seen have whole stacks of it. He seemed real uninterested in what he was ordering too. I think I would have been more curious in his shoes.”
“Maybe he's just neat,” Tom said doubtfully. “Seemed real surprised to see us at first but he calmed down pretty quick,” he observed. “Could be nothing. Most anybody'd be nervous to find cops at the door. You noticed he was alone too. I thought that was a little curious—him running the show all by himself, no clerks or nothing. Notice that room in back of the office?”
“Seemed he had plenty of chairs,” Eli said dryly.
Tom nodded his agreement. “One other thing. You notice how close that place was to Paddy's?”
Jaffey shrugged. “Could be just a coincidence. There's dozens of businesses close to Paddy's.”
“Sure. Dozens,” Tom said the doubt etched on word. “Let's go see Byrnes.”
T
he meeting with the chief went on for some time, though the decision on whether to follow up on Liberty Construction took only minutes. It was Tom's other agenda that took some going over. Byrnes was very attentive, and, in the end, very cooperative.
“You ever been to Richmond before, Eli?” Tom asked as they headed for the Old Dominion Steamship Line.
“Never been much beyond New Jersey,” Eli admitted a little sheepishly.
“Well, lad, it's time you saw the world. Last time I was in Richmond—well, let me rephrase that. I was never actually in Richmond. Closest I got was the other side of the James River. Anyway, the last time I saw it, it wasn't looking too prosperous. Mostly burned out buildings down by the waterfront. Couldn't stop to gawk much. Busy chasing Bobby Lee at the time.”
“You were at Appomattox?” Eli asked, eager for a war story.
“Well, never actually saw that place either. Saw Lee though—the one and only time I ever did.”
Jaffey's curiosity was fully piqued. “Really? What was he like?”
“Well, I don't remember all the details,” Tom said slowly, though he remembered it very well indeed.
“He was riding back from the McLean house, where he surrendered. Riding that great white horse of his, Traveler,” Tom said slowly. “Thing I recall most was … dignity. It's the only word comes to mind. I've seen generals strut and prance like peacocks, so full of themselves there was hardly air left in
a room. Wasn't like that. Lee was dignity itself.” Tom gave a soft smile. “Like it was something he grew into and wore like a … cloak, sort of. No prance or pomp to him. He was an old man by then. Not all that old in years, but the war had aged him. His beard was snowy white, but he rode that horse erect and strong as a grand old oak. All decked out in his best uniform: gold braid, white gloves, big polished boots,” Tom said, holding himself erect and dignified. “He rode slow, almost like at a funeral. Didn't look left or right. And as he passed, I saw his eyes and they were swimming, so he had to blink back the tears. It was sad to see. As he passed, the boys—one by one—took their hats off. I did too. Got real quiet, just the sound of the horses' hooves, the squeak of leather, the jingle of harness and scabbard. Like a hush traveled with him. We all stood quiet and watched the old man pass.”
The hack they were riding in bounced on the cobbles as they neared pier 26, North River, where the Old Dominion Line docked. Tom was quiet for a couple of blocks. Eli figured he was remembering his war years. He didn't ask Tom any more. Let him have his silence if he wanted it. They rolled to a stop and Tom snapped back to the present. As they walked toward the steamship office, Tom said, “That man was a god in the South. I could see why. He still is like a god down there,” Tom said. He pointed a finger at Jaffey. “One piece of advice: Never speak poorly of Robert E. Lee south of the Potomac.” He paused for a second and said, “Come to think of it, never do it in front of me either.”
They booked passage to Richmond, leaving next day at 3:00 P.M. They shared a stateroom because Byrnes wanted them to keep expenses low.
“All right, we got that done. I've got to go to the Second and see Captain Coffin. You can come if you like, but—”
“Sure, I'll come. Haven't seen Sam and some of the boys in weeks now. Give me time to catch up.” Neither of them noticed Earl as he lounged behind a wagon across the street, his hat pulled low over shining black eyes.
T
he precinct house was quiet when they got there at around twelve-forty-five. The squad room was nearly empty, and the desk sergeant was nibbling the remains of a sandwich while reading the
Tribune
. Tom was able to see Coffin right away.
“Got a few minutes, August? I've got some good news,” he said as he poked his head inside the captain's door.
“Always got time for good news,” Coffin said jovially. “Close the door behind you, okay? You have a conversation with our yellow brethren on Doyers?”
Tom hesitated a moment. “Yeah, our ‘yellow friends' are willing to meet tonight.” Coffin ignored the sarcasm in Tom's voice.
“Good, what time?”
“Around seven. Just you and me,” Tom said, doubting that Coffin would go anywhere without some backup, however well hidden.
August was pleased but Tom felt the need for another caution. “Like I told you, this will take more than one meeting, so don't be surprised if nothing seems to get accomplished this time around.”
“I understand. I don't like it, but I understand it. So we'll meet … say six-thirty?” Coffin said. Tom just nodded and was about to go. In fact, he had hold of the doorknob, when Coffin stopped him. “Oh, Tom?” he said casually. “You do understand the situation here, right?”
“How do you mean, August? I know what I have to do, if that's what you're asking.”
The captain shook his head, his lips pursed as if he was considering something. “Not precisely. What I'm getting at is your understanding of who's running this deal,” Coffin said flatly.
Tom had to make himself take a breath before he answered. “You're the captain, Captain,” he said as matter-of-factly as he could.
“Good. I know these are your connections,” Coffin conceded. “Don't worry, you'll be in for a big cut when this comes together.”
“I live for my cut, Captain,” Tom shot back. His conspiratorial grin felt so false he wondered if it showed.
Coffin just laughed. “See you at six-thirty then.”
Tom closed the door behind him, cursing under his breath and more determined than ever.
T
om, Eli, and Sam had a late lunch together. It was three when they split up.
“Listen, boys, I'm going to pay a surprise visit to a certain address on Twenty-sixth Street. Anybody comes looking for me, you know what to say,” Tom told them.
Sam grinned, giving Tom a broad wink. “Have fun. Give Mary my best,” Sam said.
Jaffey stood, a little confused, as Tom and Sam started to walk their separate ways.
Tom looked over his shoulder at him, realizing the younger man's indecision. “Why don't you take a nice relaxing ride on the Staten Island Ferry, Eli? See you in the morning.”
Jaffey grinned and waved, sauntering off a temporarily free man.
T
he afternoon was fading into evening. Shadows crept across the floor as the setting sun turned to gold. It was a golden afternoon in more ways than one.
“That was lovely, Mr. Braddock,” Mary whispered. “You should surprise me more often.”
“Glad to oblige. I didn't hurt you then, did I? I couldn't tell if that was a good moan or a bad moan.”
Mary rubbed her side. “The ribs are still a little tender but it was mostly a good moan—a rather special moan I save just for you.”
Tom cradled her in his arms. “I love it in the afternoon and that lazy, nothing-else-in-the-world-to-do feeling … after.”
“Not bad work if you can get it.” Mary grinned at him. “I know the feeling. It's a lot like work,” she said playfully. They laughed hard, till Mary had to hold her side and whistle for air. Tom hit her with a pillow, then and giggled as she hit him back with her good arm. It was a losing battle though. She surrendered and was pinned. Sometimes you must surrender to win the war, she thought.
Later, as they lay on the rumpled covers, tiny beads of sweat glistening like stars in the afternoon sun, Mary waited for what Tom had come to tell her. She knew him well enough to know that this special afternoon had more than one purpose. She could be patient, though, and knew he'd reward her in his own time. She had a feeling that he needed to make love first, so that in the quiet time after, it would be easier to share what he had to.
“Our first meeting with the tong is tonight,” he said to the ceiling at last.
He was so predictable, she thought. She would have grinned if what he told her wasn't so serious. Mary wondered if it was just her or if everyone saw it.
“Just you and Coffin?” she asked softly.
“Supposed to be,” he answered.
“Don't trust him to come alone?” Mary asked. Not trusting Coffin seemed entirely sensible.
“Don't worry, I don't expect him to. We'll have a tail. Shouldn't be too hard to spot once we get close. No Chinese in the corps, you know.”
She turned to him, so close she could count the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. “Be careful, Tom, please.” She squeezed his arm.
“It's Coffin needs to be careful. I've got everything sewn up tighter than a fat lady's corset,” he said, grinning at the image. He wished he was really as confident as he sounded.
“What'll you do if you're followed?”
“Got a plan. There'll be a dozen eyes on the street. There's help if I need it.”
“Nothing's happening tonight?” she asked, knowing where this was leading.
“No. It won't happen until I get back. Probably the Twenty-fourth.”
“Getting back? Where are you going?” Mary asked, surprised. “And by the way, the twenty-fourth is the big fireworks display for the opening of the bridge. You promised we'd see it.”
Tom had forgotten but acted as if he hadn't. “We will. I wouldn't miss that for anything.”
“Yeah, but where are you going all of a sudden?”
“Part of the Bucklin case. Going to Richmond … check on some construction company that doesn't sound like it's on the up and up,” Tom said, trying to minimize it. “Long story. We think maybe Bucklin was killed because he found out about some contract-rigging scheme. Not sure just yet but it's our best guess. Leaving tomorrow at three. Jaffey's going with me.”
“So that's why you came calling this afternoon. You knew you wouldn't be seeing me for a couple of days so you …”
Tom held up a hand, a theatrical look full of hurt and indignance painting his face. “Oh, now, Mary, that's not fair. I was thinking of you,” he said, all innocent concern. “You would have missed me terribly if I'd gone off without seeing to your intimate needs, now wouldn't you?” Tom nuzzled her breast playfully, a wicked grin on his face.
BOOK: Suspension
12.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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