Tasting the Apple

by Sherilyn Decter

  Henry leans against the closed door. “Well, it’s about time you wised up. I told you so, Mickey. But you didn’t listen. She’s just a kid. Ya gotta send Delores home.”

  Mickey looks up at Henry. “Yes, of course. And get rid of her brothers. I won’t have vermin like them in my crew.”

  Henry nods. “You want to say goodbye?”

  “No. Just get her outta here. Do it nice though. Maybe give her a couple of bucks. Jesus, she’s just a kid.”

  * * * *

  Mickey is playing cards with a couple of the guys in the suite. He’s not holding anything special, but it passes the time. Outside in the hallway, he can hear thumping and crying. “What the hell?” he mutters. He nods to Gus, “Go check that out.”

  Gus is just opening the door when it bursts open. Delores stumbles inside. Tears stream down her face, mixing with the blood from her nose and a smashed lip. The right eye will be black and swollen shut soon.

  Everyone in the room jumps up, pulling out their guns.

  “Delores?”

  Delores looks at Mickey. “My brothers say I’m not supposed to come home. They said I was supposed to stay here. Oh, Mickey, please don’t send me away. They’ll hurt me bad next time.”

  Mickey walks over to her, gently putting his hands on her arms. “Frankie did this?”

  She nods.

  “Gus, you, Fingers, and I are going for a little ride. Come on, Delores. I’ll make this right.”

  “No, Mickey, please,” she wails. He grabs her arm firmly and together they head downstairs.

  * * * *

  Mickey comes into the hotel suite and heads to the bar cart, where Henry is standing.

  “How’d it go?” Henry asks.

  “I’m afraid I let my anger get the better of me. But they won’t be coming back around here anytime soon.”

  “Dead?”

  “No. But maybe they wish they were.” Mickey takes his glass, drains it, and pours another. “Sukinsyn, those bastards will be sorry they ever tried to put one over on Mickey Duffy.”

  Chapter 53

  I t’s another night on the town for the two Duffys and entourage. Henry and Edith sit alone at the Cadix. Mickey, shadowed by John Bricker, is prowling around the crowd; mingling, he calls it.

  Henry leans over and grabs the champagne bottle from the bucket. “It’s empty. All gone. Kaput.”

  “Ah, thas no good.” Edith tries to stand, but staggers on her high heels. She sits and tells him to go get more.

  “Sure thing, doll.” He, too, staggers when he stands, but keeps walking.

  Edith watches the boisterous patrons dancing and laughing. Why isn’t she having fun? Where is Mickey? Although who is Mickey with might be a better question. Edith fumes and attempts one more swallow from her empty glass.

  Henry returns with a bottle of whiskey and two clean glasses.

  “I’m sick of champagne. It makes me want to throw up. Let’s drink thish instead.” He fills two glasses to the rim.

  “Oopsie-daisy, don’t spill.” Edith giggles. “Why so glum, chum?” she says, swaying in her chair.

  “Stan came back.”

  “What was that?” Edith shouts over the music and the crowd. “Stan? Stan who?”

  “You know. Stan Leszek. Works for Mickey. The one whose kid was found dead in the river, shot. And dumped. Splash. You know—Stan.”

  “Oh, that Stan. Speak up, Henry. I can hardly hear you. Say, ain’t that horn player great?” Edith turns toward the stage and applauds.

  Henry stares at the whiskey in his glass.

  “I’m sorry. What were you saying, Henry?”

  “I was talking about Stan’s kid, who died.”

  “Of course, I was at the funeral. That was so sad, Henry. So sad. The little boy.”

  “Yeah, I know. Sad. Sad. Sad.” Henry keeps shaking his head, captivated by the rolling motion.

  He polishes off his glass and refills it. He looks at Edith’s drink, but it hasn’t been touched.

  “It always bothers me when I hear stuff like that about kids. What happened again?” Edith asks. She repeats the question to be heard over the music.

  “The kid was shot. And tossed in the river. Splash.”

  “That’s so awful. An innocent little boy. I remember now.” Tears well up.

  “I did it, Edith. I tossed him. Splash. Every time I look at Stan I think about what I did.”

  Edith recoils from Henry in horror. “What did you say? What you did? Oh my God, Henry. You shot the kid?”

  The trumpet player stands and belts out a flourish. “No, Edith. I said I found the kid. And tossed him in the river. But the kid had already been shot. It could have been anybody. Bullets were flying, you know what I mean? But that doesn’t change it. The kid’s still dead.”

  Finally, the trumpet player sits. Edith leans away from Henry. “That’s terrible. You’re some kind of monster.”

  Henry looks at her blearily. “Yeah, I know.”

  * * * *

  Edith and Maggie have squeezed in time to meet at Green’s. Edith has arranged to meet Tony upstairs after lunch, but didn’t share that news with Maggie. Instead, their heads are bent close as they titter over Maggie’s museum visit with the Galways.

  “You have got to be kidding me, doll. That’s your professor? I admit he’s good looking, but his mother, now she’s a piece of work.”

  “I know. If she weren’t in the picture, there might be a chance. But there’s no way I could ever live with Mother Galway. Especially with Tommy. I know what kind of childhood he’d have under her roof.”

  “Yeah, it sounds like your mother and Old Mrs. Galway are two peas in a pod.” Edith suddenly roars with laughter. “A mission. Mickey running a mission.”

  Maggie chuckles, remembering. “We’ve been out again, you know. We went to dinner and a movie. It was lovely, but no fireworks. You know what I mean?”

  “Oh, do I ever,” Edith says, smiling. “Maybe he’s just a nice ‘starter’ model, you know, helping you get over Jack. You said you liked that there was no pressure. The first time out would be hard, whoever it was.”

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Maggie says. “Yes, I could see Teddy as a starter model.”

  “Is Tommy looking forward to Christmas break?”

  “He is, but I’m super busy. Exams to study for. Christmas to get ready for. As crazy busy as it is, we’re settling into a routine, which helps. Month end and year end statements. One of my clients is a milliner. Did you like that cute little hat I wore at the museum? It’s a gift from her.”

  “How are you set for clients?”

  “I could really use a couple more. Some months I have enough billable hours to scrape by, and some months I’m not even able to do that. Money’s so tight, I don’t think I can afford another newspaper ad, so I’ll be wearing out shoe leather knocking on doors.”

  Edith pats Maggie’s hand. “Don’t worry, doll. Something will turn up. It always does.”

  Maggie smiles, grateful for Edith’s support.

  A cloud settles on Edith’s face. “Do you think people who have been drinking will tell you the truth?”

  The room is busy and noisy with guests. Edith, a bit peaked from the night before, winces with every loud noise. Her hand shakes when she picks up her water glass, spilling drops on the white tablecloth. Maggie frowns. Lately, her friend often looks like something the cat dragged in.

  “I don’t know, Edith. But that’s what they say. Why? Has something happened?”

  “Well, a friend of mine told me something that knocked my socks off. I mean, really, really disturbing. And I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe he was drinking too much? Maybe I was and didn’t hear right. It was pretty loud. Maybe I just imagined it? Sometimes that happens. I don’t know. But it really bothers me.”

  “Honey, you’re worrying me. What did he say?”

  “Well, you remember that kid, Oskar. The one that died last year?”

/>   “Of course. You and I met at his funeral. I helped the search parties. And he was one of Tommy’s friends. Why?”

  “Well, Henry, you know… Mickey’s pal? Henry said he killed him. Or at least that’s what I think he said.”

  Maggie is shocked. It’s been so long, and now, suddenly, Edith blurts out the answer to the mystery that’s been haunting her.

  “Edith, are you sure? That’s huge.”

  “Yes. No. Maybe. You know me Maggie. Sometimes things get mixed up, especially lately. I’m certain that’s what he said. Henry killed the kid.”

  Chapter 54

  E dith and Tony sit in bed, smoking and enjoying the afterglow of a passionate and physical afternoon. They’ve managed to sneak time together every day this week. Tony’s boss, Ralph Copeland, has been preoccupied, not noticing Tony’s absences. And Mickey? Well, Mickey’s been busy down at the Ritz and not spending too much time at home. For Edith and Tony, the stolen hours add spice to an already potent cocktail.

  “Things are getting pretty tense around the Precinct. Butler’s cracking down on dirty cops,” Tony says.

  “Yeah? What does that mean for you?”

  “I’m thinking of leaving. Maybe heading to Chicago. My mother’s cousin knows a guy there who could hook me up with something.”

  Edith goes still. Her head continues to lay on his shoulder, her mind whirling with the news.

  “Chicago?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a sweet little outfit there. It wouldn’t be too much at first; I’ll have to pay my dues. But eventually, hey, a smart boy like me? Sky’s the limit, doll. None of this cops crap. I’ll be making real money for once, maybe Duffy money, hey Edie? Think of it. I’ll buy a club like the Cadix. The mayor will come swanning by; maybe I’d have a couple of my own cops in my back pocket. Have drinks with Capone. Lots of opportunities there for a fella like me. And there sure as hell isn’t any future here.” Tony blows a series of smoke rings into the air above their heads.

  Edith watches and thinks. Delores. Mickey. Now Henry. She feels like she’s drowning in dirty bathwater as it empties out of the tub, swirling down the drain. A fresh start?

  “When?”

  “Soon. Butler’s closing in. Shutting us all down, one by one. I gotta make some arrangements fast. I figure a week, tops.”

  Edith traces patterns on Tony’s damp chest.

  “I’m going to miss ya, Edie. It’s been swell,” Tony says, eyes closed.

  “Maybe you won’t have to.”

  “How’s that again?”

  “Maybe you won’t have to miss me. Why go alone? Maybe I could come with you. To Chicago.”

  Tony nudges Edith aside and sits up. “What do you mean, Edith? You’re married to Mickey. You’re his gal.”

  “That I know already, Tony. But, what did you say, oh yeah… there’s no future in it.”

  “Edith, honey. You know I care about you. But that’s crazy.”

  “It could work, Tony. I have plenty of dough stashed away. I’ve got my jewelry. It could be a little nest egg for us, maybe even a down payment on a club. And I’ve met Al Capone. We’ve stayed at their winter place in Miami. I could introduce you.”

  “You know Capone? Nah, I couldn’t just show up on Capone’s doorstep with Mrs. Duffy. Although it would make a hell of an entrance.”

  “Oh Tony, take me with you. Mickey won’t care. He wouldn’t know where we’ve gone. He won’t even care that I’m gone. You don’t need to worry about him. We could have such a glamorous life together in Chicago. Please, Tony?”

  Tony sits silently, staring out the window, the cigarette forgotten in the ashtray.

  “Tony?”

  “Quiet, doll. I’m thinking.”

  Edith puts her head on his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around her, the other behind his head.

  Tony leans over and butts out his cigarette. He pulls Edith close and begins to caress her back. “Yeah, Edie. It could be swell. It could be real swell. Let’s go to Chicago.”

  “I love you, Tony,” Edith whispers.

  “Chicago it is. Just you and me, doll. Now, how about you show me how happy you are?”

  Chapter 55

  T he interview room at the police precinct is becoming familiar to Maggie. She and Frank have come to talk with Joe about Edith’s upsetting news. Maggie sits at the table, and Frank stands behind Maggie, his back to the wall.

  Joe holds a pad of paper. He sports a black eye, the bruise beginning to turn green and yellow.

  “That’s some shiner, Joe. Did you get it at the Butler rally last week?”

  “Butler riot, more like. Yeah, I zigged instead of zagged and took an elbow for my troubles. We had to bust a few heads at the end. Were you there?”

  “Archie and I went. Since Operation Minnow, I’ve come to regard Colonel Butler as my commanding officer as well. And I was curious, of course, to see what he’d say.”

  “You didn’t get caught up in any of that brawling did you?”

  “Oh no, Archie made sure we kept close to an exit. We left as soon as the colonel’s speech was over. A bit fiery don’t you think?”

  “It was certainly strongly worded. There was a lot of grumping from fellow officers caught up in the ‘all police are crooked’ rhetoric. There are some cops not on the take, you know,” Joe says.

  “And what’s the verdict? Will Kendrick back down?”

  “Everyone’s been walking around on tenterhooks, waiting to see what happens. It would mean a major change of direction for the police if the colonel goes. Although, with your new tenant, you probably have a better pipeline to the decision than I do.”

  “That could be true. Dick Beamish certainly has a nose for news.” Maggie leans in and whispers, “How did the colonel take the news about the mayor being the leak?”

  “Gosh, that was a while ago. How long has it been since we talked? Was that the last time? Anyway, Colonel Butler was none too pleased. It’s probably part of the reason he was so tough on the mayor in his speech at the rally. He’s also been talking to the press at events, and what he’s saying about Kendrick is not flattering. He sees Kendrick as a traitor. Something’s brewing; been lots of chatter behind closed doors. We’ll just wait and see.”

  “Like the rest of Philadelphia. More importantly, though, I’m dying to hear all about you. It has been a while hasn’t it? You’ve settled into the new house? How’s Fanny?”

  “Right as rain. Married life is great,” Joe says, blushing. “Oh, it’s good to talk to you, Maggie. I’ve missed you.”

  “Yes. It’s just not the same at home without you. Hopefully we’ll have some new Minnow assignments again? It’s been ages since we’ve been out.”

  “I’m not sure, Maggie. As you can imagine, with the headlines that Colonel Butler’s leave wasn’t being extended for next year, it’s caused all kinds of chaos in the Precinct. Many of the initiatives have been put on the shelf until things settle down and we can see which way the wind will blow.”

  Maggie sighs, putting her own troubles with money aside.

  “You had asked me to let you know when the colonel was going to confront Captain Copeland. It’s going to happen later this morning. In the colonel’s office.”

  “Ask him if he knows the exact time. I really would like to attend,” Frank says from his position behind Maggie.

  “Do you know when exactly, Joe?”

  “No, is it important?”

  “I’ll wander over to Butler’s office after we’re finished here and see what I can learn,” Frank says.

  “I’m not sure. Look Joe, I want to thank you for seeing me today. I know how busy you must be. But I wanted you to know that I have information. It’s about the murder of Oskar Leszek.”

  “Really? That’s an old one. We were so hopeful. You and I. Back then. Go on, Maggie. Tell me everything.”

  “I’m sorry to do this to you Joe, but once again, I’d like to have you investigate before I tell you how I came by the information. T
he person who told me would be in danger, once questions start being asked, even if the information isn’t true. It’s possible, in fact it’s likely, that they will come forward if it pans out. But I can’t put them in danger if it’s not true.”

  “You’re putting me in a box, Maggie.”

  “I understand, Joe. And I’m sorry.”