Michael Quinn

by Caleb Borne

  “How many bedrooms?”

  “You know, until this moment, I haven’t counted. Let’s see… eight in all. Each with its own bath. Michael has his office, as do I even if I use it for fabric swatches and design magazines right now. One day I hope to write that book. Then there’s the living area, the kitchen, breakfast room and walk-in pantry, they library and another room we laughingly call the parlor, but we’re hardly the parlor type. Downstairs there are recreation rooms. I don’t often go down there. It’s mostly Michael’s area. A bar, pool table, television room… you get the idea. Of course, the estate includes stables with paddocks, barns for the tobacco base and miles of pasture. The farm manager’s house is being constructed back there somewhere.” I held out the plate of petit fours toward her and she gingerly accepted one with a gloved hand.

  “Servants?”

  “A cook, a housekeeper and…” I stopped abruptly, about to pass along Penny’s name. She had called earlier and said she would be delayed. I hoped to get Mother out before Penny arrived.

  “And…?”

  “Michael has hired a farm manager and hands, but I don’t have anything to do with that.”

  “Who was that nice-looking fellow in the drive when I came in?”

  “Oh, that must have been Colin. Looks a little like Michael. That’s his brother.”

  “Why wasn’t I introduced.”

  “He’s… uh… a bit on the strange side. I believe he’s had mental problems. Michael has insisted I stay clear of him. I don’t mind; he gives me chills to tell you the truth.”

  “Strange household.”

  “Mother, don’t be judgmental. This is my home and I hope you can find it in yourself to respect that so you’ll continued to be welcomed.”

  Mother’s face flushed at my obvious warning and she promptly put the petit four down on her plate and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin. “Very well. Perhaps I’ll come again sometime when you’re not so… occupied.”

  I stood and smiled. “Yes, that might be better.” I knew I was being rude but it was nothing compared to the tension that would flood the house once Penny arrived. “Let me show you out.”

  Mother nodded, her feelings obviously hurt.

  “Mother, I’ll call one day next week and bring a picnic over for the three of us. Daddy, you and me… just like old times.”

  She sniffed and nodded. I hoped that resolved things. I had so much going on otherwise.

  “Summer’s leaving us, you know,” she mentioned, and I knew she was referring to the picnic aspect.

  “If it’s too cool, I’ll take you both to lunch at The Campbell House. How would that be?”

  “Yes, I think that would be better. We’ve been lucky with this Indian summer, but before you know it, snow will be falling.”

  “I think we’ve got another week or two before we’re shoveling,” I laughed, ending the visit on a gay note. I kissed her cheek and stood in the doorway, waving, as she walked to her car and then left. As I was closing the door, I caught sight of a movement just inside the line of trees along the drive. I shut the door all but a couple of inches and watched. It was Colin, dressed in riding jodhpurs and a wool jacket. I thought it odd since we hadn’t acquired any horses yet, but as Michael said, Colin had odd ways. He was watching Mother leave, holding a pipe to his mouth. I quietly closed the door and headed to the kitchen where I complimented Izzy on her tea preparations. “I’m going upstairs and take a nap before dinner. I’m expecting… a friend… but I’m not sure what time she’ll arrive. When she does, have her wait in my office, would you? Then come and wake me up.”

  “You told me not to come to your bedrooms.”

  “Yes, yes, I suppose I did. Well, just this once, knock on the door and that will be all. Thank you, Izzy.”

  I turned and heading for the stairs, was startled when Colin stepped out of the parlor, still wearing his boots and the riding clothes. I knew he’d been listening in. Pushing away the shivers, I took the stairs quickly and locked myself into our bedroom. It was some time before I relaxed enough to drift off to sleep.

  * * *

  The knock roused me from my sleep. “Thank you, Izzy,” I called but she must not have heard me because she knocked again. I kicked off the afghan, put my feet on the floor and took a second to adjust my head. Still heavy with sleep, I opened the door. There stood Colin.

  “Michael’s not here.”

  “Aye.”

  “Wait for him downstairs, please?”

  “It’s you I’d like to chat with, if ye don’t mind.”

  “What is it?”

  “That were yer mother here earlier, am I right?”

  My knees were shaking and my heart had sped up. I wanted badly to sit down but you can’t do that when the devil is at the door. I hesitated. Finally, I said, “Yes.”

  “Ye must take after your dad. Perhaps I should drive over and meet ‘im?”

  His words had the intended effect. Terror. “They’re very private people, Colin. Perhaps you’ll be here the next time they come over and you can meet them then.”

  “Perhaps. I wonder if I might ask a favor?”

  He hadn’t crossed the threshold and I was holding the knob as desperate support. Why did this man feel so threatening? “What’s that?”

  “It seems I’ve over-spent me allowance. I’m taking yer friend, Della, out on the town t’night. Was hoping you might lend me a few? I’ll pay ye back.”

  I knew he wouldn’t leave unless I gave him money. I felt dizzy with the pressure of his presence. To get my purse, I’d need to leave the door unmanned. “Wait right there and I’ll see what I have.”

  I tried to shut the door, but he wasn’t having it. “Are ye scared o’ me, Katie?”

  I opened my top drawer, pulling out my bag. I didn’t answer him, but pulled out my wallet and hurried back to the door to prevent him from coming closer. Reaching in, I pulled out the bills. Michael had just given me two hundred dollars, intended to pay the butcher when he made his quarterly delivery. “How much do you need?” I looked up and saw him snatch the entire packet.

  “This should do it, fer t’night, anyway,” he said with a smarmy smile. “Ye be a good girl, me darlin’ sister-in-law, and keep this between us, ye hear?”

  He left me standing there, in the doorway, so shocked that it took a few seconds for me to remember to close the door, and when I did, I threw the lock and melted to the floor, shaking. Had he just threatened me? Looking at the empty wallet in my left hand, I realized I had no money for the butcher and nowhere to get it before the butcher arrived. I’d have to drive to my bank and withdraw it. Michael kept track of finances, just as most husbands did. How could I ask him for more without giving away Colin’s visit? How would Michael react when he heard? Beyond that, what would Colin do to me when Michael called him on it?

  This was quickly getting out of control. There was no alternative. I’d have to go get the money. At least that would save the embarrassment of the butcher coming and me, empty-handed. I grabbed the rest of my bag, ran a brush through my hair and pulled a jacket from the closet. “Izzy, have an errand to run. Be back shortly,” I called and then pretended not to hear her as she called back wanting instructions for the butcher and the ‘girlfriend’ who was due to arrive. I could get by Izzy’s curiosity, but never Michael’s.

  I drove to my bank, Stockyards. I turned down the rear-view mirror for a last-minute application of lipstick when the bank door opening caught my glance. It was Colin! How on earth had he gotten there before me? I crouched automatically, as though I’d dropped something on the passenger side floor. I heard his maniacal whistle as he passed within feet of the hood of my car. Whether he tried to look in, I’d never know. An engine started nearby. I waited until I heard it screech tires out of the parking lot before I straightened up enough to risk a peek. Sure enough, he was gone. My heart thumping, I got out of my car and went inside, withdrew the needed money and then on an impulse, stopped b
y the manager’s desk. Mr. Whitley had known my family forever.

  “Hello, Mr. Whitley, do you remember me?”

  “Of course, Katie. How are you. Just look at you. All grown up now.” He extended his hand as he stood to greet me.

  “Yes, graduated from college and married, as a matter of fact,” I answered, holding out my ringed hand. “Mr. Whitley, there was a man just here. I saw him as he was getting into his car outside. I recognize him as someone I’ve seen somewhere but can’t place him. I was hoping one of your tellers might remind me of his name?” I don’t know what good asking his name would do; I already knew that. I suppose I was curious if there’d be an attached information. Perhaps that he’d opened an account or had been a customer for some time?

  “Oh, yes, Katie, he was here. Came to see me, actually. All new accounts come through me, of course. Let’s see. Ah, yes, here we are. His name is Devin Craig. Does that ring a bell?”

  I choked on my saliva and began coughing, my mind turning over with that revelation. I nodded, pulled a hankie from my pocket and turned my head until the coughing stopped. Finally, I said, “Thank you, Mr. Whitley. I must have been mistaken. I believe the man I was thinking of was named Jones. He escorted one of the girls at the Debutante Ball. I’m sorry to have troubled you. It’s no big concern, just idle curiosity.”

  “Of course. He’s been in before, Mr. Craig, that is. Each time he opens a new savings account. I believe it strange, but then I’m not supposed to discuss a customer’s private affairs with others. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Oh, absolutely. You’ve always been the soul of discretion.”

  I reached out to shake his hand but saw he held an index card. I looked up, questioning.

  “For your name change, of course.”

  “Oh, yes, why didn’t I think of that? Let me take it with me and I’ll drop it off later. I’m late to meet Mother and you know how she can be. Thank you again.” I hurried out before he could ask questions. But perhaps the worst part was that I had to ask myself why I hesitated in changing my name on the account.

  Michael

  “You’ve not been doing your job.” Bloomstein sat upright in a chair opposite me at my desk. My office was silent. I liked it that way. No witnesses.

  “Michael, it’s not as easy as you might think.”

  “That sounded like an excuse. I don’t pay you for excuses. I pay you for solutions.”

  Bloomstein’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure you fully appreciate the level my sources come from. With all due respect, Michael, they are highly-placed and dealing with a new president, still wet behind the ears. A fellow countryman of yours, by the way, even if not first generation.”

  “What difference should all that make to me? I’m asking for information on my brother’s business relationships. I want to know who has him on the run, toward me, to be specific.”

  Bloomstein stared at me and said nothing. It was all in his stare.

  I nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. Which family?”

  Bloomstein said nothing.

  That’s when I caught on. “Let’s you and I take a walk out to your car, shall we?”

  “Not good enough.”

  “You think I’m wearing some sort of wire? Isn’t that what they call it?”

  Bloomstein shrugged, tipping his head sideways before looking down at the toes of his shoes.

  “Tell me, Bloomstein. Should I draw the conclusion that you don’t trust me, or that I shouldn’t trust you?”

  “Neither. I don’t wait timing analyzing. Everyone is suspect.”

  “Damn you and your double-talk. Look. I’ve paid your bills and then some. You owe me answers, and you know damned well I’m not going to share it. I want the whole damn thing shut down. Silence. Do you understand, Bloomstein? I want—dead—silence.”

  Saul Bloomstein rose to his full five foot two inches, sucked in his gut as he straightened his tie and tugged at the overly tight vest. “I believe we understand each other. I know what you want. I have feelers out, but we must deal in their time, not yours. They have greater priorities. When I know, you will know.”

  With explosive frustration I had to sit there and watch him walk away. I wouldn’t damn my countryman, but there were times I wished Nixon had won. Pulling open my bottom drawer, I removed the revolver and the small package of sandpaper. It didn’t take nearly as much work as I’d anticipated to remove the serial number.

  * * *

  My office phone was ringing as I came back from lunch. “Hello?”

  “Sir, this is Butch Knight.”

  “Yes, Butch.”

  “Sir, I hate to call you, but we seem to have a problem with the farm account.”

  “Problem. What kind?”

  “Sir, I went to purchase some building materials and they wouldn’t accept the check. They said they had two others that had bounced and our account was closed.”

  I could feel the muscles jerking in my cheek. “Let me check into it. I’ll be in touch.”

  I was out the door and in the car within three minutes. Pulling into the parking lot at Stockyards bank, I backed the car in. My old instincts were resurfacing. I was at war, but I wasn’t sure with whom.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Quinn,” Whitley greeted me. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  I chafed under the delay, pacing before the door. Whitley kept looking at me nervously and my occasional glares caused him to refer his current customer to the head teller. He motioned me to sit down.

  “Can we do this somewhere more privately?”

  “Mr. Quinn, we certainly can. Let me get the key to the safety deposit room.” He was gone and back in a few moments. “If you’ll follow me.”

  The door closed firmly. The room held a high counter and two chairs with a smaller table between them. He sat. I stood. “I received word my checks from my farm account are bouncing.” I came right to the point.

  “Yes, sir, they would if you were to write any more.”

  “Why? There is easily over twenty thousand in that account.”

  He shook his head. “No, sir, not any longer.”

  “What do you mean? I have the deposit slip and receipts for the money spent from that account.”

  “I imagine you do, Mr. Quinn. But if you’ll recall, you wrote two checks for ten thousand each and Mr. Craig cashed them. That almost emptied the account and when we received the bill from the lumber yard, we were compelled to—”

  “Who the hell is Mr. Craig?”

  “Don’t you know, sir? He’s a customer here at the bank and asked us to deposit the monies into his account.”

  “This Craig, what does he look like?” The muscle was twitching.

  “As a matter of fact, Mr. Quinn, a whole lot like yourself. We remarked at the resemblance after he left.”

  Colin!

  I wanted to punch something, or someone, very badly at that moment. “Accept no further checks written to Mr. Craig, is that understood?” The room was beginning to swim and I felt unable to breathe.

  “Well, yes, sir. Do you have reason to believe it was an illegitimate transaction?”

  I couldn’t turn him in. Colin was systematically undermining my entire world and holding my past over my head. I also knew who would come looking for me if I had Colin locked up. I wanted him in the middle, no matter what it took. God, but I wanted out of that shoebox of a room with the serviceable gold carpet. “No. Just don’t honor them. Any check presented for over one-thousand, you contact me and get approval before honoring it, you hear?”

  “Oh, yes sir.”

  “And transfer another twenty thousand from my primary account to the one that’s empty.” Considering how much money I had on deposit at Stockyards, they were only too glad to accommodate me. I turned toward the door just as Whitley muttered, “Strange.”

  I froze. Looking over my shoulder, expect him to criticize my rapid departure, I saw him looking off into space as though thinking heavily. “What is
it?”

  “Your wife was asking about Mr. Craig just this afternoon.”

  “My wife?” He had to be mistaken.

  “Yes, Katie. Congratulations on the marriage, by the way. We hadn’t heard until she said something. Oh, do remind her not to forget to turn in the new signature card. Technically, we can’t allow any transactions from her without it. Of course, as it’s Katie, we’re willing to remain patient.”

  “You say Katie was in earlier? Was she alone?”

  “Oh, yes, sir. I spoke to her personally. She was also asking after Mr. Craig. She mentioned she thought she knew him from somewhere but couldn’t recall his name.”

  I nodded slowly. “Thank you.” I left the parking lot, gravel flying from behind my tires. I made it only a couple of miles down Hwy. 60 before I pulled off at a public access on a small lake. Pulling the car under the shade of a tree, I was glad no one was around as I opened the door and puked into the gravel. I was sweating heavily and felt dizzy. I’d felt that way before. Out of control. It was the same as when I’d been a young boy in Ireland and knew another gang was waiting for me around the corner. There was no escape. They’d have me eventually. I knew I had to get through it somehow.

  I hated it, and this time it came from the two closest people in my life. I fought for clarity of thought. There were threats all around me and while instinct told me Katie would never betray me, time would tell. I would wait for her to tell me what she’d discovered about Colin. I hoped it wouldn’t be a long wait.

  Once I’d calmed down, I started the car to head home. I pulled into the drive and saw an unknown car. My heart immediately began to race again, and I wished I’d not left the gun in my desk at the office.

  I let myself in and could hear Katie laughing from the living area at the back of the house. She looked up as I came in.

  “Oh, Michael, it’s good you’re home. This is my friend, Penny,” she said with a wink.

  I shook Penny’s hand and motioned her to follow me. “You, too, Katie.”