The Holy City Hustle: A Duke Dempsey Mystery

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The Holy City Hustle: A Duke Dempsey Mystery Page 9

by Ron Plante Jr


  Duke had met Bishop Gilmore briefly in the past and he was fond of the man. He’d found him to be very knowledgeable on Roman Catholic history, and he loved to share his knowledge with whoever was willing to listen. Gilmore had taken over for the late Bishop Visconti, and had since become a calming presence in the city and amongst the religious community.

  The Holy City was home to all denominations of Christianity, but Catholicism still reigned supreme, with the Southern Baptists biting at their heels. The Bishop sat at the head of the Council for Religious Stability, which had a member from each church in the city, no matter what denomination. It was a way for them to unite and coordinate various activities in the city. It was also a way for them to unite in a common voice when it came to sparring in the political arena. No mayor would be successful without the backing of the Council, a lesson learned by Mayor Swanson during his campaign. It hadn’t been hard for him to gain their confidence after the events that had rocked the Catholic community earlier that summer.

  Duke wasn’t sure how much he wanted to confide in Mrs. Swanson, but she did seem to have some information that very few people had. If she was on the up and up, then she was going to be in for a long, hard-fought battle. “Any idea who else knew about Isabella and the ledger?” he asked.

  “Morris kept everything pretty hush-hush. Aside from me, I think he only told his assistant Leo.”

  “Ah yes, I met Mr. Scagnetti at the ceremony. He seemed like a very charismatic young man. What’s going to happen to him?” Duke asked.

  “For the sake of continuity, I’ll keep him on. He helped Morris with the day-to-day routine, so it would only be right to keep him on board. We had a small circle, Mr. Dempsey, and Leo was one of the few in it.”

  Duke placed Mrs. Swanson’s number in his pocket. “Can I walk you out, ma’am?”

  “No thank you, I’m not done here. I’d appreciate your help and discretion with what was said here.”

  “Of course,” Duke said as he grabbed his Walker off the pew and made his way out of the church. He glanced around to see if he could find the origin of the noise from earlier, but there was nothing behind the pillars.

  As Duke got into his Roadster, he saw a car that had not been parked there when he arrived earlier and made a mental note. “A little late for an evening mass, unless you are mayor,” Duke thought to himself.

  Chapter 14 – Sarah

  The music in the background made it difficult for Carbone to hear Bertucci, but he could tell his boss was upset with the report he’d received. Carbone assumed Bertucci was sitting in the casino, listening to whatever act had flown in for the weekend.

  “There are a lot of unhappy people right now, with how this whole thing got so fucked up. I don’t have to remind you that this could turn out bad for us if we don’t fix it.”

  “I’m on it, boss. Everything is under control. This local PI seems to be helping out Charleston’s finest on this thing. His name is Dempsey, but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be too much of an issue,” Carbone said.

  “Dempsey? Duke Dempsey?” Bertucci asked as the tone of his voice changed.

  “Yeah, that’s the guy. We’ve got eyes on him at all times.”

  “Listen to me, and listen good. When you get a chance, you give that Duke Dempsey a dirt nap, understand? Do not underestimate that guy. He shut down Al’s whole operation in Charleston, and we needed to work some magic when he was getting too close to our game. I thought we’d got rid of him when we got him thrown off the force, but he’s like a pesky gnat that won’t go away. Take care of him, Billy.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Another thing. They’re not happy about what you did to their man Jackson. I calmed them down on it and told them you had your reasons, but no more hits without running it by them,” Bertucci said as he lit a cigar.

  “He was a moron and would’ve complicated the situation more. They should be more selective with who they hire,” Carbone said, annoyed that his decisions were being called into question.

  “Whatever, just watch yourself. You’re in their backyard and you play by their rules,” Bertucci said as he slammed down the receiver.

  Carbone was looking to use Dempsey to his advantage, but the orders from his boss could conflict with his plans. He needed to make another call to his Charleston contact for new information on how they wanted to proceed. Jobs got complicated when there were too many chiefs, and this one was shaping up to be messy. Bertucci had the same power as the boss running Charleston, and their business arrangement with each other meant Carbone was trying to get things done while walking on eggshells. If the ledger wasn’t retrieved, Carbone knew his boss's number would soon be up.

  Billy looked out of the oak phone box that sat at the end of the hall where his room was. The convenient thing about staying at a place as nice as the Francis Marion was that each floor had its own phone box and patrons didn’t have to ride the elevator down into the lobby to use one. At this time of night, the floor was quiet and people were asleep in their rooms, so he didn’t have to worry about unsuspecting ears waiting outside the booth. He pulled the number from his jacket pocket and directed the operator accordingly.

  “There’s a new player in the mix,” the voice on the other side of the phone immediately said.

  Billy knew exactly where this was going and who the new player was. “Dempsey,” Carbone said.

  “Yes, it seems like we found a use for Mr. Dempsey. His stumbling into this situation might be a good thing for us. His skills will come in handy, and it looks like we’ve got him on our team.”

  “I think we may have a problem,” Carbone said. “Bertucci doesn’t trust him and thinks we would be better off with Dempsey out of the picture permanently.”

  “Bertucci isn’t calling the shots here, and you’re on loan to us, so we can clean up the mess you made. Once we get what we want, then you can kill the SOB.”

  Carbone was getting tired of being talked down to. He closed his eyes and cracked his neck from side to side, hoping to relieve the tension before he spoke. “Understood,” was all he could muster before hanging up the phone.

  It was a brisk night, so Duke had the top of his Roadster up. He drove the 30 minutes out of town heading in the direction of Folly Beach. Mary lived with her parents in one of the bigger mansions in the Charleston area. It was a little late, but he was sure Mary would be happy to see him nonetheless. The full moon illuminated the old road leading to the Crosby Plantation, and Duke enjoyed the smell of the sea air as he got closer to the coast. It was a nice drive that Duke realized he hadn’t made for a few days now. The murders of Isabella and Mayor Swanson weighed on him, and getting to the bottom of what was going on in his city was at the forefront of his mind.

  Duke took a right onto the long drive that led to the Crosby place. It was a beautiful driveway lined by huge oaks with Spanish moss hanging down. The landscape was kept impeccably by the hands that took care of the place. Duke could see the dust in his rearview mirror as he made his way up the drive, hoping Mary would be excited by his surprise visit. As Duke’s Roadster approached the plantation, he could see the front door open.

  Mary was in the kitchen making some hot tea when she heard the familiar engine of Duke’s Ford Roadster tear up the driveway. She was in her white cotton nightgown, but was too excited to see Duke to even care about her appearance. She rushed to the door and out on the front stoop as his car came to a rest.

  Duke got out and flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking during his night drive. “Hey, doll, you come here often?” Duke asked playfully.

  “Who, little ole me? No, I’m just passing through, waiting for my Prince Charming to pluck me up,” Mary said going along with the flirtatious game. “Have you seen him? He’s about 6’3 with huge muscles and bright blue eyes.”

  Duke took off his hat and ran his hand through his pomade filled jet black hair. “Nope, but I’ll be sure to tell him if I run into him on my way to Doc’s,” Duke said as h
e playfully turned around to pretend he was going to get back into his car.

  “Mr. Dempsey, get your butt over here.”

  Duke laughed as he walked over to the stoop, picked Mary off the ground, and gave her a big squeeze. “I missed you.”

  “Oh, really!” she said as she slapped Duke’s chest. “You could’ve called or written or anything.”

  “I hate to be cliché, but I’ve been bogged down at work. Can I come in and sneak a swallow from your old man’s liquor cabinet? I could use a drink.”

  “Of course. They went to bed, so be quiet,” Mary said as she led Duke into the house and her father’s study.

  The Crosby Plantation was just as well kept on the inside as on the outside. The twenty-foot ceilings and crystal chandelier in the entryway were pretty overwhelming for most people. A huge double-sided staircase curved around both sides of the wall which led to the upstairs. Between the two staircase entrances was a large opening that led into the next room and was lined by white pillars.

  Duke had been to the plantation a handful of times in the past couple of months but had probably only seen half of the rooms. He continued to follow Mary between the stairs and into the next room, which was a lovely sitting area. They made a right and traveled down the hall which led to her father’s study. Duke had been here only once, and it had been over an intense conversation about what was expected while Duke dated Mr. Crosby’s little girl. He was a get-to-the-point kind of man, and Duke could see why he was so successful when it came to business. Duke felt a quick shiver up his spine thinking about the conversation that he never wanted to experience again.

  Duke walked over to the bookcase where Mary’s old man had a wide array of top-shelf booze. He knew her dad would never slum it enough to have Evan Williams, but Duke did find some Old Taylor, which he gave himself a generous pour of. “I just want you to know that I haven’t been avoiding you. It’s just this Mayor Swanson thing has my head pulled in ten different directions.”

  “I understand. I figured you couldn’t keep yourself out of it, but I thought the assassin was killed,” Mary said as she sat on a plush brown couch facing Duke.

  “I wish it was that easy. I kind of got dragged into this one, and a lot of innocent people have wound up dead. I don’t want to tell you too much and put you in danger again. That’s why I’m going to keep my distance until this thing plays out,” Duke said as he took a long swig.

  “I’m a big girl and I’m not scared.”

  “That’s just it, you should be scared. I’ve been down this road before, and it didn’t turn out too well for me the first time. I’ll be damned if I’m not going to finish it this go around,” Duke said as adamantly as he could.

  “What do you mean you’ve been down this road before?”

  “Remember when I told you the story about getting kicked off the force? I think this may have to do with the same group. But this time I’m not walking away,” Duke said as he sat on the couch next to Mary. “I need you to lay low while this is going on, because I’m not sure how desperate they’ll get once I start to get close.”

  “Ok, I will, but you need to be careful too. I’ll go stay with my aunt in Savannah. Is Johnny working with you?”

  Duke laughed. “Yeah, but I’m not sure how far he’s willing to go. This one could cost him his career. Anyway, I got Sarah looking after me.”

  “Sarah! Who the heck is this Sarah?” Mary asked, getting excited.

  “Relax, doll,” Duke said as he opened his jacket, showing his Colt .38 Special.

  Mary just sighed and rolled her eyes. “Silly boys and your silly toys. Just be careful, please. When this is all over you owe me that trip we’ve been talking about.”

  “Deal! You hightail it to Savannah until this blows over, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  Duke put down his rocks glass on the walnut coffee table, leaned over, and pulled Mary in close as he lightly kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure how a schmo like me lucked out getting a dame like you, but I thank my lucky stars every night.”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” Mary said as she slightly pulled away so she could look into his brown eyes.

  Duke pulled her in for a long passionate kiss, and those unsure feelings he’d had earlier in the night instantly vanished. He knew she was the one, and this seemingly small conversation had clinched it for him. He was in a rough business, and he needed a warm-hearted woman with a little ice in her veins to deal with it all.

  For the rest of the evening they kissed, they laughed, and they drank, talking about their future together and the vacation Duke was about to owe her. She said something about Europe, but Duke was too caught up in the moment and in her captivating aura. He wasn’t sure how the next few days were going to play out, and he wanted to enjoy every second he could that night.

  Chapter 15 – The Black Sox

  Duke rolled into the city of Charleston just after 2 a.m., and although he wanted nothing more than a nice warm bed, he had to make a pit stop first. Finding the ledger was paramount, but he wanted to do some digging around first. He pulled his car down Broad Street through the French Quarter. The French Quarter was usually a bustling part of the city, with all the boutiques and restaurants to choose from, but at 2 a.m., Duke was the only soul on the street. He continued down Broad until he saw his target destination on the corner.

  The Charleston City Hall was certainly a looker when it came to architecture in The Holy City. Designed in the 1800s, the building had stood the test of time, and its Adamesque structure made it stand apart from the other government buildings in the area. White marble from Italy had been cut and used as the trim that lined the windows, steps, and building’s edges. A semi-circular projection that was home to a dual-sided staircase led to the front entrance. Twelve large arched windows faced the street, six for each floor of the two-story building. Duke, however, was concerned with the small circular windows that lined the basement of the structure.

  City Hall was one of the four buildings representing the Four Corners of Law, as the Charleston natives called it. The other three corners were occupied by the Charleston County Courthouse, the United States Post Office, and finally, Saint Michael’s Episcopal Church. This was the only place in Charleston where city, state, federal, and the all-important God’s Law met to look upon one another. In the Deep South, some might argue which corner reigned over the other three, but putting your money on the spiritual house was what some might call a sure thing.

  Duke parked his car on Meeting Street, a block from City Hall, and made his way on foot with his flashlight tucked underneath his jacket. He looked around to ensure there weren’t any random roaming patrols from Charleston’s finest. He knew City Hall would be locked up tighter than a Savings and Loan, but he also knew there was a secret entrance. They’d used it to get the mayor in and out when the press wasn’t happy with how the town was being run. It was the least fortified entrance in the building, and he knew he could pick it in his sleep. He just prayed they hadn’t had the sense to fix the vulnerability over the years.

  He made his way around the side of the building and took out the pick he kept for emergencies. It took him about fifteen seconds to jimmy the lock and open the door that led to the basement. He smiled to himself, thinking about the incompetence of Captain Slate and the rest of Charleston PD.

  Carbone had traded in his white suit for a black watch cap, black trousers, and a black cotton shirt. Another tactic he’d learned while working in the Orient was that some missions called for stealth, and using the shadows to your advantage always gave you the upper hand when it came time to strike. He wanted to keep an eye on the mayor’s office in case an unsuspecting player tried to stick their nose in, and was pleasantly surprised to see Duke Dempsey making a late-night house call. “What do you know, Dempsey,” he thought to himself as he waited for Duke to make entry into the building.

  Once Duke ducked inside, Carbone racked his Berretta and placed it in the waistband in the
small of his back. It was time to move. He came out from behind the stoop of St. Michaels across the street and followed Duke.

  Once inside, Duke turned on his flashlight so he could get his bearings to make his way up to the second floor, and ultimately into the mayor’s office. The basement was cold and damp, unlike the other floors of City Hall. They’d always planned to turn it into a storage area or a place for administrative staff but as of now, it looked more like a dungeon. Duke headed to the south side of the building where the staircase that led up to the main floor was located. The deserted basement was even creepier at night with no lighting. He climbed the stairs to the main floor. The steps let out beside the security office where an armed guard usually sat during the workday.

  The main floor of City Hall was so stunning that one would think it was some ancient museum rather than a stuffy government building. The floor was a brown and gray marble, with the seal of Charleston embossed in the middle. It had been adopted in 1783 and represented the main revenue stream the city was founded on. It depicted a female holding a scepter in the foreground of the Charleston’s water view. It also showed the high steeples of St. Michaels and St. Phillips as bookends to the Charleston cityscape, with a ship under full sail in the harbor.

  The words ‘Aedes Mores Juraque Curat’ lined the top of the seal, which translated to ‘she guards her buildings, customs, and rights.’ ‘Corpus Politicum’ bordered the bottom of the image, which translated to ‘the Body Politic.’ Duke had always been fascinated with the feeling that he got when he walked across the great seal in City Hall. It made him think about how the founders had modeled the nation and its great cities in the same image of the Republic built by the people of Rome.

  Duke headed toward the back of the building, where the staircase that led to the city officials’ offices were. The speckled marble stairs were lined with mahogany rails with gold fixtures. He could hear his shoes echo against each step as he made his way to the next floor, allowing his flashlight to lead the way.

 

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