The Day Steam Died

by Brown, Dick

  The side drawers were filled with old files from years past. Those could be interesting, maybe evidence. Ann started putting anything that looked official into an empty box she brought in from the warehouse. It was an official shipping container, complete with the stamped number of cartons of cigarettes it contained and its destination: New York City.

  Marie’s middle drawer, a catch-all for pens, paperclips, note pads, an open pack of cigarettes, and a romance novel she read during lunch. Little scraps of paper with notes scribbled on them were scattered around: Pick up milk and bread, remember coffee. Get keys made and order new lock.

  Ann studied the last note then stretched her arm to the back of the drawer. It was shallow, and the top of her hand scraped against something sharp. The object scratched her knuckle, but she continued to feel around until her fingers touched something cold and jagged. She withdrew her arm, and a handful of dusty keys lay in the palm of her hand. She recognized the front door key and the key for the office door into the warehouse. Four remaining keys were exactly alike, probably for the loading dock doors.

  A smear of blood seeped from the scraped knuckle. A wrinkled Band-Aid was among the odd assortment she’d scooped up from the drawer. With her wound properly bandaged, Ann turned her hand palm up and carefully examined the underside of the desk. Near the back of the drawer, again she felt the jagged teeth of a key taped to the bottom of the drawer. She pried it loose and examined it. This key was from a different lock manufacturer than the others and unlike the others whose edges of the teeth were smooth.

  An Acme Lock Company logo was stamped on the handle. Ann’s body tingled with fear and excitement. She realized what she’d found.

  “What are you doing?”

  Ann jumped at the sound of Ronnie’s voice and wrapped her hand around the key before sticking her hand behind her back. “Oh, just cleaning our Marie’s desk.” Ann struggled to sound calm.

  “Well, we’re going to need some more boxes by next week. Marie always ordered our boxes. I guess that’s going to be your job now, at least until Joey hires somebody new. Can you order’em? Marie always kept a copy of the invoices, if you can find one to tell you how many to order. Be sure we get’em in a couple of days. It takes a full day for us to put’em together and stamp’em.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sure she has the vendor’s list here somewhere. Oh, Ronnie, did Joey tell you he was going to hire someone to take Marie’s place?”

  “Not exactly. That’s what he’s doing in Washington. Mr. Sam is pretty particular about who works here. He might send somebody down from Washington. Who knows? Joey don’t tell me nothing. Sometimes I hear him on the phone if he leaves the door open. But that don’t happen very often. I never seen nobody so secretive about everything. Anyway, thought you needed to know about the boxes.”

  “Thank you. Oh, Ronnie, you mentioned once before that they had a big argument while I was off. What was that about?”

  “I’m not sure. Every time she talked to Joey, it ended in an argument. She came out on the dock that morning. It was a Friday, I think. We were really busy loading up some cars and she wanted to talk to him about something. I think she wanted to leave early and Joey told her she couldn’t leave. It was noisy so I’m not exactly sure what they were arguing about, but when they started yelling, I put as much distance between me and them as I could.”

  “Do you remember anything that was said?”

  “Just that Joey was really mad and told her he would fire her if he could, and that one day her mouth would be the death of her if she wasn’t careful. I don’t think he meant anything by it. They yelled back and forth out here all the time. He made cracks like that when he got really mad at her.”

  “What could she have said to make him so mad?”

  “Oh, you know, stuff like she could get him fired and Sam Johnson couldn’t touch her, or she could get him and Sam Johnson sent to prison. I did hear her say she was fed up with the way Joey was treatin’ her and was going to do something about it before she left.”

  “What did she mean by ‘before she left’?”

  “She said she wasn’t going to be working here much longer and would deal with him before she left. That’s all I know. ‘Settling your hash, mister big shot, will be the last good thing I do before I leave this place,’ was the last thing I heard her say before she stomped back to the office. Didn’t she tell you she was sick?”

  “No, she never mentioned it,” Ann responded, thoughtfully processing everything Ronnie had just told her. “Did she say what was wrong?”

  “Not really. One day when I went to order boxes, she was coughin a lot. She tried to hide it, but I could see something red in her handkerchief like she was coughin up blood. Staring me straight in the eyes she said, ‘It’s hell gettin old, Ronnie. The one thing you enjoy the most in life is the very thing that’s going to kill you.’

  “She started coughin again. I went over got her a Coke from the machine. I told her to try that, it might help her coughin.”

  “Thanks. Ronnie. That was really considerate of you. I’ll get those boxes ordered today.”

  “I appreciate it. I don’t mean no disrespect for Marie, but I’m glad to be working with you. She could really be hard to get along with sometimes. You know what I mean?”

  “I do. Don’t you worry, we’ll get along just fine.” Ronnie nodded his agreement and dragged his heels shuffling back out to the warehouse.

  Ann continued going through the Marie’s drawers in search of a vendor list. She pulled out a faded, dog-eared notebook then sat down and opened it. It was full of paid receipts for supplies from the Coke and cracker machines to laundry bills. None filed in any kind of order. Tucked in the back off her bottom drawer was a stack of invoices from the Box Factory in Rowan County that hadn’t been punched for filing.

  Ann took the information from the invoice to place a phone order for five thousand cardboard containers to be delivered in three days. She leafed through the remaining sheets in the binder. They were wrinkled, the holes torn through and pulled out at the slightest touch. Near the back of the book was an invoice for the ring of keys hidden in the drawer. The order listed duplicate keys for all the doors including one she didn’t recognize. The last entry on the invoice sent a lightning bolt racing through her body: Install new door lock and deadbolt for back office, no duplicate keys.

  Her eyes riveted on the last line of the order. She pounded her clinched fist on the desk. A smothered squeal of “That’s it” slipped between her clinched teeth. Marie had secretly made an extra key for Joey’s office. That was her secret. She knew what was in Joey’s office and must have let it slip out in the argument. Ann was pumped with nervous energy the rest of the day; she knew what she had to do.

  Chapter 49

  “You established a historical district and set about returning the graceful old homes back to their original charm and beauty.”

  Payback

  Ann and Alice usually sat around the kitchen table and talked after dinner and having put the kids to bed. She shared the kind of day she had at the office. Alice told her what the kids were doing at school and about something fun they did that afternoon. But this evening was different.

  “You seem distracted, edgy. What’s the matter? You haven’t said two words since dinner. Ann. Ann! Are you listening to me?”

  “I’m sorry Momma. I need to go back out to the office for a little while. Will you listen for the kids? I won’t be gone long. Please,” Ann begged.

  “It’s awfully late, and I don’t like you going by yourself. Just last week a woman was murdered in the parking lot of a drugstore.”

  “I heard about the murder, but our building is lit up like a baseball park. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “You’ve never had to work overtime before. What is so important that it can’t wait un
til morning?”

  “I was cleaning out Marie’s desk today and found the key that might open the door to put Mr. Sam Johnson and his son in prison. I have to do it tonight because I don’t know when Joey will be back from Washington. The information I need is in his office and I need to get in there tonight.”

  “Stop! Do you hear yourself? Have you lost your mind? What are you thinking? Are you willing to risk your life and your family for a grudge you’ve been carrying since high school? Grow up, Ann, and leave what’s past in the past.”

  “Momma, I don’t want to argue with you. You may have forgotten what happened, but I’m the one that was raped and humiliated. Tank and his father tore a hole in my soul that may never heal. He not only violated me but destroyed my youth and a relationship with someone I loved very deeply. They shouldn’t go unpunished for what they did back then and what they’re doing now. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Ann grabbed her mother by the shoulders, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then hurried out the front door.

  Chapter 50

  “By building a shopping center, you brought new shops and stores. You didn’t let Bankstowne die as so many predicted.”

  The break-in

  The evening breeze swayed the surrounding trees casting dancing shadows and spawning dust devils in the secured building’s parking lot. A dozen flood lights cast broad shafts of light that bleached the gray walls a stark white. Ann parked under the protective tree line shadows on the edge of the parking lot. She’d studied the revolving cameras before leaving work that afternoon. There was a fifteen second gap in the overlapping sweeps of the two cameras on the front corners of the building.

  She wrapped a black scarf over her face and watched the cameras movement waiting for the exact time to move. “Wait, wait, wait, now!”

  Ann sprinted for the front door, seeming to outrun her multiple shadows cast by the lights. She inserted the key and swung the door open all in one quick motion.

  Once inside, she located the security alarm keypad. Only ten seconds to disarm the security system or she would have a lot of explaining to do. Her heart refused to stop hammering against her chest from fear, not just poor athletic condition.

  With the security system disarmed, Ann carefully picked her way through the office toward the warehouse door, following the oval beam of her flashlight scurrying across the floor. The sound of the key opening the warehouse door lock echoed through the empty building. Ann stepped into the warehouse. Her second step caught her left foot on an unseen object that threw her to the floor. The flashlight bounced and rolled across the floor, sending flickering shards of light in all directions before it stopped and blinked off. The brunt of her free-falling body was absorbed by outstretched arms before she slammed onto the wooden flat that had tripped her.

  “Dammit!” Writhing in pain, Ann rolled off the flat onto her back and cradled the stabbing pain in her right wrist. “Great, where did my flashlight land?”

  Disoriented by the fall, Ann waited until her eyes adjusted to the blackness. With the help of the red Exit light, she was able to get her bearings and located her flashlight. Using her good left arm, she dragged her body over the rough cement floor to retrieve the flashlight. A deep sigh of relief accompanied the beam of light when she tapped it on the floor.

  A cursory self-examination revealed a bloody knee behind her torn jeans, scrapes and splinters on the heels of her hands, and a wrist that felt like it was broken.

  Her injuries made her trek across the building to Joey’s office door more difficult. Ann mustered all her courage and forced the new key into the lock. A sharp twist opened the dead bolt. Seconds later she was inside.

  Her flashlight danced around Joey’s office. This must be what Ft. Knox security looks like she thought. There were monitors covering every inch of the building, inside and out. She felt violated.

  A typewriter, copy machine, and FAX machine surrounded Joey’s desk. Paperwork was neatly stacked in piles sorted by task. A small desk lamp was light enough for Ann to examine those papers.

  “Jesus, I don’t believe it,” Ann blurted out. The lower case letter ‘o’ in his daily work report and a list of things he wanted to discuss with Sam jumped off the page at her. “Oh my God, this type matches the broken letter that was on the suicide note.” A feeling of nausea overcame her on already shaky legs. She had to sit down.

  “I knew it, I knew it,” she continued talking as if someone was with her. “I knew Marie wouldn’t take her own life no matter how sick she was. Damn you.” She punched the copy machine on to let it warm up while she scanned the rest of the office. She had to hurry before the damaged flashlight died.

  A bank of monitors blinked when they changed angles of surveillance. Her car wasn’t visible. She prayed her dash to the building wasn’t caught on tape. The control board was a maze of dials and switches. Next to the control board were shelves full of dated video cassettes.

  Her failing flashlight raced across the racks of video tapes until it stopped on January 3, 1966. Ann yanked the cassette and shoved it into the VCR. She fast forwarded to the scene of the two reporter’s visit. The rear license tag on their car was grainy. A magnifying glass from Joey’s desk enlarged the numbers enough for her to record them: NCS-1221. She ran the tape again to get a better look at the reporters. The image was too grainy to clearly see their faces. That allayed her fears of being identified if her break-in was caught on tape. Tomorrow she would track the shadowy reporters down with their tag number.

  The copier’s green start light came on. A smile crossed Ann’s face when the machine spit out a crisp copy of Joey’s work sheet with his signature and agenda with the damaged lower case ‘o’ in the text. “I’ve got you now, you bastard.”

  Chapter 51

  “Those new shops and restaurants will open their doors as new industries move in to take advantage of the skilled labor pool available to them.”

  Evidence found

  The doorbell snapped Alice’s attention from Perry Mason, her favorite TV show. If that was Ann, why would she ring the doorbell? She approached the door cautiously and pulled the sheer drape aside just enough to peek through the beveled glass side panel. Shocked at the sight of her daughter outside, she swung the door open.

  “My God Ann, what happened to you? I told you not to go out there, it was too dangerous!” Alice put her arm around her limping daughter and helped her through the door to the living room couch.

  “I tripped over one of the wooden flats in the warehouse. You can’t believe how dark it was. That building doesn’t have any windows, but I didn’t dare turn the lights on.”

  “What were you doing in the warehouse?”

  “I had to get into Joey’s office to see what is in there that he’s so protective of. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw all those surveillance monitors. He watches everything we do. And look what else I found.” Ann held up the copied pages from his desk.

  “What are they?’

  “Look closer, Momma, do you see the broken letter ‘o’ in the body of his report? That’s exactly like the ones in Marie’s so-called suicide note. That note was typed on Joey’s typewriter and planted in Marie’s typewriter.”

  Alice’s hands flew over her mouth to stifle a scream. “Do you really think Joey wrote that note?”

  “Not only did he type the note, he must have forced her to take an overdose of her heart medicine. He murdered Marie, Momma!”

  “Oh, Ann, I don’t know what to think. If he finds out you know about the note, you’re in real danger. Let’s call the police right now. Show that to Detective Connell.” Alice paced in front of the couch. “Why did you have to stick your nose into all this? Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?”

  “I’m not calling the police, not just yet. I want to plan this out very carefully. Right now I need to
get cleaned up and soak my wrist.

  Ann came back downstairs after checking on the children. The scraped knee had stiffened and her wrist looked like she had a goose egg under her skin. Alice brought her a cup of coffee and sat silently while Ann soaked her wrist in a pan of warm salt water. Detached from her immediate surroundings, she stared into space, trying to organize the thoughts wrestling with each other in her mind.

  Alice broke the silence. “Ann, I beg you, go to the police first thing in the morning before he gets back from Washington. They can arrest him when he gets here and keep him from hurting you or the children.”

  “No, Momma, he isn’t the only one I want. He doesn’t know it, but Joey is going to help me get to Sam and Tank. His murder investigation will allow the police to search his office. I couldn’t open his locked files, but the police can with a warrant. The police will find out how they’ve been illegally shipping millions of cigarettes up north. They’ll discover that our illustrious state senator and his big shot father are crooks. That’s what I want.”

  “I don’t know, Ann, this whole thing sounds awfully dangerous. I just want you and the children to be safe, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry. I was careful. He won’t ever know I was in there and has no idea I have a key to his office. It’s ironic.” Ann almost chocked up on her words. “Marie is going to get justice from the grave by having that key make. She was probably saving it for the right time. She knew I would find it if she died first.” Ann cried softly for her friend and knew what her next move had to be. “I’m exhausted and need to get some sleep. I have a big day planned for tomorrow. Goodnight, Momma.”