Blood Money

by Tom Bradby

  ‘I ain’t never been to her house.’

  ‘She says different.’

  ‘She’s a dumb, lying showgirl b—’

  ‘Then how come she picked you out?’

  He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘How come she picked you out, Chile, if she’d never seen you before?’

  ‘I told you, she’s a liar.’

  ‘She picked you out because she’d been told to. The Bull wants to fix this case. He spun a line to McCredie and brought her in to pick you out. He told her they had the right guy, that her husband had been killed for a gambling debt and they just needed a positive ID to help them with the grand jury.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘You still don’t get it? You need to hire yourself a lawyer and real fast. Ask him if he thinks he can save you from the Chair. You imagine what she’s going to be like as the grieving widow on the stand. “Yes, your honour, this was the man who came to my house. He frightened me.” Take a look at yourself in the mirror, Chile. There isn’t a jury in the land that wouldn’t convict you. You’re a walking electric current.’

  Quinn stood. He checked there was no one in the corridor. ‘Listen, we’ve tried to help you. I know you don’t deserve to fry, but don’t cry for me when they come for you.’

  They were halfway into the corridor before Acuna took the bait. ‘Who are you guys?’ He was turning a cigarette lighter over

  and over with his right hand.

  ‘Good luck, Chile,’ Caprisi said.

  ‘What are you working on?’

  Quinn closed the door again and leant on it. ‘You are a gambler, right, Chile?’

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘You do some pimping, if you can find the right broads.’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  ‘Did you know Charlie Matsell?’

  ‘I heard he jumped.’

  ‘So, you did know him?’

  ‘I met him a few times. Doesn’t mean I killed him.’

  Quinn sat down again. ‘Where did you meet him?’

  ‘I ain’t answering this bullshit. Johnny’ll see me right.’

  ‘We’ve been over that.’

  ‘He’s a good guy; everyone says so.’

  ‘Chile, he’s the star of the show. You’re just another chorus girl. What does he care if you go to the wall?’

  ‘He wouldn’t do that.’

  Quinn stood again.

  ‘Okay.’ Acuna sat back, palms open. ‘I’ll help you. I mean, what harm can it do? You’re all on the same side, right?’

  ‘That’s good thinking, Chile.’

  ‘So, what do you guys want?’

  ‘We’ve been looking for a weak link. And I’ve got a hunch we’ve found it.’

  Acuna laughed nervously, unsure whether this was meant as a joke.

  ‘Tell us what you know about Charlie Matsell.’

  ‘I don’t know nothing.’

  ‘Where did you meet him?’

  ‘Some place around town.’

  ‘Try again.’

  ‘He sometimes took a hand.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a club called the Hellfire.’

  ‘That’s Luciano’s joint. So, you, Charlie and Spencer Duncan used to meet up at the Hellfire?’

  Acuna didn’t answer.

  ‘You had a poker game going?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘How often?’

  ‘Couple times a week.’

  ‘Did Lucky Luciano take a hand?’

  ‘Not his scene.’

  ‘The three of you would slip upstairs for a game?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘They gave you a private room?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Lansky fixed it for you?’

  ‘It was always the hostess, the Texan girl with the huge jugs.’

  ‘Broads as well?’

  Acuna shook his head. Maybe a little too vigorously.

  ‘Tell us about the girls, Chile.’

  ‘There were no broads.’

  ‘You went somewhere else for that?’

  ‘There were no broads. We took a hand, is all.’

  ‘You smacked some of the girls around a little. That what happened?’

  ‘I told you already, there were no broads.’

  ‘That’s not the way we hear it.’

  ‘Then you don’t know a damn thing.’

  ‘You figure Spencer and the others went somewhere else to get their kicks?’

  ‘How in hell would I know?’

  ‘You got any idea where?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But they went somewhere, right?’

  Acuna glared at him.

  Quinn leant back against the wall and put his foot on a chair. ‘Something’s not right here, Chile. We hear there’s been trouble with some of the girls. A couple guys got a bit rough. It happens, right? Hell, maybe you were nowhere near. Shame if you took the rap.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You want to tell us where the girls

  came from?’

  ‘How many times do I have to tell you? There were no broads.’

  ‘So who else was in on the game?’

  ‘A crowd. Not always the same guys.’

  ‘Moe Diamond?’

  ‘Yeah, Moe was there. He’s a good guy.’

  ‘What about Dick Kelly?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘Jeez, I don’t know. There were other guys to make up the numbers.’

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Were there any cops in the game, Chile?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure.’

  Quinn dropped the photograph of his father on the desk. ‘You know this man?’

  Acuna looked at it for a long time. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Is that a yes or a no?’

  ‘Yeah, I know him.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Gerry. Gerry Quinn.’

  ‘You know he’s my father?’

  Acuna shifted in his seat. ‘Yeah. I know.’

  ‘Was he a part of this game?’

  ‘Look, since Gerry’s your old man …’ he laughed nervously ‘… I mean, whatever the problem is, Gerry will sort it out. That’s what I heard.’

  Quinn brought out the photograph of Martha. ‘You recognize this girl?’

  Acuna bared his teeth.

  Quinn bunched his fists and struggled to remain motionless. ‘Where was the photograph taken?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘But you were there, Chile.’

  ‘Who says I was?’

  ‘C’mon, man, it’s no big deal. She’s just a broad, right?’

  Acuna’s eyes glittered. ‘She’s sure a beauty, ain’t she? Must have been fun.’

  Quinn cleared his throat. ‘So who else was there?’ He knew Caprisi was watching him closely.

  ‘Who said I was there?’

  ‘We know you were. Like I said, it’s no big deal—’

  ‘If it’s no big deal, you don’t need me to talk about it.’

  ‘Humour us. Who brought the girl along?’

  ‘I don’t know, because I wasn’t there.’

  ‘You were there, Chile. Two of the guys who were in the room with you have already been sliced up, and Moe Diamond is shitting himself in the Cotton Club. Can’t you see where this is going?’

  ‘I ain’t got nothing to say to you, man, but, hell, looking at that broad’s pussy, I sure wish I had been—’

  Quinn exploded from the chair and slapped Acuna hard across the face. ‘Try again, Chile.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Acuna screamed, and tried to get to his feet, but he didn’t make it to the door.

  Quinn gripped him by the lapels and lifted him off the ground. ‘Try again, you piece of shit!’

  Caprisi came between them. ‘Easy, Joe, easy. He’s Johnny’s man. We
don’t want to trigger World War Two here. Right, Chile?’

  Acuna glared at him, his face livid from the impact of the blow.

  ‘Right, Chile?’ Caprisi forced Quinn’s arms lower.

  ‘You tell him to get the hell away from me.’

  ‘Joe, easy.’ Caprisi tried to break his grip. ‘Let him go, Joe.’ He forced Quinn back a pace. ‘Listen, Chile, Joe here is real upset, so you need to help us out.’

  ‘I ain’t speaking to nobody but Johnny from now on.’

  ‘Take a seat.’

  ‘If he touches me again, I’ll yell so loud they’ll hear me in Queens.’

  ‘Just take a seat.’

  Acuna did so. Quinn didn’t budge.

  ‘Chile, you’re a real smart guy,’ Caprisi said, ‘so just think about this. Joe is right. Two of the guys who were in that room with you are already dead. Charlie Matsell went to meet a guy and took the quick way off the roof. Spencer Duncan got sliced up in the back of an automobile. Moe Diamond’s frightened he may be next. Where does that leave you?’

  Acuna’s eyes flicked between them.

  ‘C’mon, Chile,’ Caprisi said. ‘Don’t you get it? You were in that room, so you’re on the list. Someone is settling a score. You have to know that.’

  ‘I ain’t got nothing to say to you.’

  ‘Monday they kill Charlie. Tuesday they kill Spencer. Who are they going to kill today?’ Caprisi shook his head. ‘They’re your buddies, not mine.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Caprisi grabbed Quinn’s arm and yanked him towards the door. ‘Okay, have it your way. But we’ll be back. And if someone else goes under the knife without you talking, I’m going to allow my friend a free hand. Have you got that?’

  Caprisi pushed Quinn out of the room, ignoring Carrigan’s protests, and led him down the corridor. ‘I thought you were going to kill him.’

  ‘Next time.’ Quinn shook himself free. He lit a cigarette and drew heavily on it, trying to pretend his hand wasn’t shaking.

  ‘He was there,’ Caprisi said quietly.

  ‘’Course he was.’

  ‘You’re right about there being other girls.’

  Quinn stubbed out the cigarette. ‘I’m going to speak to Yan. There must be some kind of pattern. I’ll see you back upstairs.’

  ‘Joe, hold on a minute—’

  But Quinn did not look back.

  On the way down to the Criminal Investigation Bureau, Quinn passed through the central hallway. Amy Mecklenburg’s mother had resumed her position on the bench and the expression on her face drew him up short. Her eyes were hollow. ‘Mrs Mecklenburg, it’s Detective Quinn, Joe Quinn. I spoke to you yesterday.’

  ‘Has there been any news?’

  ‘Er, no, ma’am. Has no one come to talk to you?’

  ‘Your friend, the lady, was with me. Are you working on the case?’

  ‘No, ma’am. Detectives O’Reilly and Byrnes are still in the lead.’

  ‘Your friend said that all … most detectives upstairs would be looking for Amy.’

  ‘That’s correct. They haven’t found her?’

  ‘She’ll be worried now. Someone must have taken her in. She’ll be cared for, won’t she?’

  ‘I sure hope so, ma’am.’

  ‘I’m so frightened.’ Mrs Mecklenburg began to cry again. Quinn watched her for a moment and put an arm awkwardly around her shoulders.

  ‘Sometimes, in the night, I can hear her crying out for me,’ she sniffed.

  Quinn tried to think of something else to say. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

  ‘No … no, thank you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll just … I’ll stay here. I’m sure there will be some news soon.’

  ‘Ma’am, you should go home. They’ll call the moment they have anything.’

  ‘No … thank you. I’ll remain here.’

  ‘Mrs Mecklenburg.’ He sat down beside her. ‘How long ago did your daughter disappear?’

  ‘It was last Wednesday, in the morning. I told your colleagues, Detective. She was going to a new job. She was so excited. I sometimes wonder if they had cause to send her somewhere and she simply didn’t have time to call.’

  ‘Where was the new job?’

  ‘I told your colleagues. It was on Broadway. They have the name of the firm. She was a stenographer. I called them when she didn’t come home that night. They said she had never arrived. I …I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘So, the last time you saw her was when you said goodbye to her that morning?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was there anything unusual? Did she appear preoccupied? Had she made arrangements to meet anyone?’

  ‘No. She was happy, so happy. She said it was a good job. It would allow her to … Since my husband died, Officer, we have not been … She was excited that she would be earning her own money and able to buy clothes. You know how young girls are …’

  ‘How did she get the job?’

  ‘She went on a course for two months at a school in Brooklyn. When she finished, she joined an agency.’

  ‘Do you have the name of the agency?’

  ‘No – I mean, it’s in my book at home. I gave it to your colleagues.’

  ‘You didn’t see anyone following her after she left the house?’

  ‘No.’

  Quinn steepled his fingers. ‘Did she ever go to a photographer’s studio, Mrs Mecklenburg?’

  ‘No … no.’

  ‘She wasn’t interested in modelling?’

  The woman was clearly perplexed. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘It’s probably nothing. I’m working on a case and thought maybe there might be a connection. Did she ever mention a man called Moe Diamond?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How about Charlie Matsell or Spencer Duncan?’

  ‘No … There was a boy called Charlie who lives down the street, but he … I know his mother. He’s a charming boy. I couldn’t imagine …’

  ‘I understand that her uncle has also disappeared. Is it possible he’s taken her on a trip?’

  ‘I told your colleagues he’s gone to see a friend in Syracuse for a few days. He’s my brother. A good man. I don’t understand why

  they have asked questions about him.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Peter Bruning.’

  Quinn pressed her hand. ‘Are you sure you want to stay here, ma’am? You’d be more comfortable at home and we could call when there’s news.’

  ‘No, I’ll stay here. It can’t be much longer. She’ll be found soon.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  YAN WAS ALONE IN HIS OFFICE WITH A CUP OF COFFEE AND A doughnut. An early edition of the Evening News was open in front of him. He wiped sugar from his upper lip as Quinn walked in.

  ‘What happened to Maretsky?’ Quinn asked.

  ‘I sent him home. He gets on my nerves.’

  Quinn grabbed himself a stool. ‘Is there any movement on Amy Mecklenburg, the girl who’s missing in Brooklyn?’

  Yan shrugged.

  ‘They find the uncle?’ Quinn asked.

  ‘Not as far as I know.’

  ‘How come they haven’t got more guys on it?’

  ‘They’re focused on your business now. The Brooklyn precincts are doing the grunt work and chasing down leads on the girl.’

  ‘Does it ring any bells for you, Yan?’

  ‘Bells?’

  ‘A pattern, maybe. Other girls missing in Brooklyn, anyone else being sent for a job and failing to turn up.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Any idea where she might have gone?’

  ‘Jesus, Joe, I don’t know. Girls go missing in this city all the time. Maybe she met a guy and ran off to the west coast. She wouldn’t be the first.’ Yan finished his doughnut. ‘Is that all you came down for?’

  ‘I could use your help on something.’

  ‘Go on.’


  ‘This case we’re on, Johnny figures he’s got it wrapped up, but we think he’s on the wrong track.’

  ‘And what’s the right track?’

  ‘These guys, the ones who are getting killed, have been in on some girls being assaulted. Could be the guy out there is a husband or a brother. I asked Maretsky to check out homicide cases for a match, but there’s nothing.’

  ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘Yan, I’d call around myself, but you know the filing guys in the precincts – you talk to them the whole time. There has to be something. Maybe the girls were drugged. That would explain the chloroform. Perhaps some guy in the precincts has spotted a pattern—’

  ‘Hold on, Joe. I have hundreds of requests coming through here every day and only the Russian to help me this week. And this is the Bull’s case. Hell, I can see the way you’re thinking, but tomorrow’s front pages have been written.’

  ‘But it’s bullshit and you know it.’

  ‘Johnny’s been around a long time. He knows a thing or two.’

  ‘It’s bullshit.’

  ‘Mind who you say that to, Joe. Big high-profile case in the middle of an election … Johnny’s an ambitious man. The guys on the top floor are on the way out and everyone knows it. He can do himself some favours with City Hall if he handles it right. You need to watch your back.’

  Quinn poured himself a jug of water and went to his desk. He picked up the Matsell file and flicked it open. Caprisi had pinned a photograph of Matsell’s body to the front of the first report. Quinn read through the witness statements twice, then turned to the pictures of the scene of Duncan’s murder. He tapped the file against his nose.

  ‘Calculating your losses?’

  Quinn swung around. ‘What losses?’

  Mae leant against the table, arms crossed. ‘Are you so absorbed in your work, Detective, that you don’t know Wall Street’s in freefall?’

  ‘It’s always in freefall.’

  ‘No, this time it really is. The boss figures it’s all over for shares.’

  Quinn turned back to his notepad.

  ‘Aren’t you interested in what Johnny has to say to the reporters?’

  ‘What’s he saying?’

  ‘He’s the star turn at a press conference. Everyone went down to hear how he’d cracked the case in record time.’ She laughed. ‘You know how he loves the limelight.’

  He smiled back at her, then reached for the phone and asked the operator to put him through to the fingerprint bureau.