“Listen, Billy” the minister resumed in a somber tone, the smile suddenly gone, “only one other person in town suspects what I am about to say but I’m confident that you will keep it private for now. I will be leaving Parlor City within the month for a new position in Boston. I depart with a mixture of excitement for this new calling to do God’s work but also with regret for what I am leaving behind.”
The minister paused again and Meacham’s mind was churning about what regrets he meant. Did they include Gwen Braun? “One of my regrets, Billy, is that I did not get to know you better. There are other regrets but we will let them pass. Listen, I must confess that I came by here on the off-chance you would stop in. If you hadn’t, I would have found another opportunity to have this little talk.”
After a few more moments of silence during which the two rivals gazed at each other, waiting for the other to speak, the minister cleared his throat and resumed. “There is an old Latin phrase that came to mind this morning as I got dressed. It goes like this ‘audentes fortuna iuvat’.”
“Not exactly a Latin scholar, Alex, but something tells me you can translate for me”, said Meacham, feeling uneasy and a little annoyed. “Indeed I can, Billy. Please don’t think me pedantic for my motive is a pure one – or at least I like to think so. It means “ fortune favors the daring”. After a short pause, the minister said “Well, I best be going. Not sure if our paths will cross again before my departure so if they don’t, I wish you the best, my good fellow.”
Before Meacham could think of anything to say, the minister was off his stool and at the cashier. Meacham has a flashback to his Mother’s comments the night before – more like a call to action. He felt as if he was glued to his seat as he watched Alex Carmichael exit the coffee shop.
***
Fogarty was seated in his car across the street from the bank, his hat pulled low on his forehead. He had followed the Chrysler Imperial into town and was waiting to see what Braun would do next before checking in with the Chief and Meacham. When Braun left the bank, he sat up straight and flicked his cigarette out the window.
The Chrysler Imperial did not follow the road out of town, peaking Fogarty’s interest in Braun’s destination. As the car headed toward the east side of town, Fogarty radioed Meacham. “He just turned on Bevier and is coming up on Robinson, Meach. Definitely not headed back to the B&B. Okay, now turning on Bingham.”
“Wait”, exclaimed Meacham, interrupting Fogarty. “That’s where Gwen Braun lives, Fogie. She’s at # 11. What’s he doing now?”
“The car is slowing down, Meach, real slow. Crawling past her house. Oh, it’s picking up speed – we’re past her now. I’ll check back in a few.” And with that comment, Fogarty signed off and Meacham felt relief followed by anger boiling up inside. Braun was a menace and a brute but was he dangerous, Meacham asked himself? Well, he would find out soon enough.
***
Braun was almost certain that Gwen was at work when he drove by so he didn’t expect to see her car in the driveway. But he thought he might catch a glimpse of Woody.
It was close to 10:00 and, even if she had been at home, he surmised that he would not have ample time to use all of his persuasive powers on her before the meeting with Portnoy. He leaned forward and told the driver to take him back to the B&B.
Once Braun was ensconced back at the lodge, Fogarty updated Meacham and final preparations for the entrapment were put into motion.
***
Adhering to Meacham’s instructions, Portnoy packed his car as if he were leaving town directly after the meeting with Braun. If Braun checked the trunk before making the pay-off and saw that it was empty, the subterfuge would fail and Braun would be on heightened alert. Portnoy knew that his performance, if executed flawlessly, could only enhance his situation with the police and the DA.
***
Braun walked in on his wife as she was packing her suitcases. She didn’t look up to acknowledge his presence and after a few moments, he said “Be careful when you fold my golf shirts. A few of them were wrinkled when we unpacked”. Getting no response, he walked out. Let her sulk, he said to himself. She will get over it and come around like always. In the meantime, I can enjoy the silence. Braun smiled darkly and decided it might be helpful to have a stiff one before Portnoy arrived.
***
Meacham arrived at the B&B ahead of Portnoy. He parked his car well back, walked up to Fogarty’s vehicle and climbed in the back seat.
Fogarty turned to Meacham and said, “Let me handle the shooting, Meach. I’m kind of a camera buff and will get all the best angles, good lighting, etc. Plus, you need to be ready to handle any flare-up should Braun lose control.”
“Right, Fogie. I’m not even sure I’d find the right button to push if things get too exciting. Just be sure to take plenty of snaps – as many as possible of the money changing hands.”
Just then, they heard a car coming up the road and both looked over to see Portnoy drive by and flash a thumbs-up sign with his left hand.
Portnoy pulled into the driveway and stopped at the bottom without turning off his car. After a short pause, he smiled to himself, took a deep breath and then laid on the horn to announce his arrival. If Braun could disrespect him, he would reciprocate.
After a few minutes, Braun opened the door, prompting Portnoy to exit his car and waive energetically as if the reunion of long last pals was about to take place. Braun lumbered down the driveway and, as he got nearer, Portnoy was pleased to see that he was frowning. Unfazed, Portnoy was actually enjoying his role. Having accepted his fate, he was now determined to rankle Braun as much as possible without going overboard. With Meacham and Fogarty hidden nearby in the trees, Portnoy was fearless.
“Sorry about the horn, Woodrow. I forgot that you wife was not feeling well. Is she still under the weather?” Portnoy asked with exaggerated concern. Braun ignored him and asked “Ready to leave town, like we agreed?” “Sure, Woodrow. Gotta full gas tank and a duffel bag packed with clothes – care to see?” said Portnoy, motioning to this trunk.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Don’t even tell me your destination – it’s best that I don’t know.”
“Sure thing, Woodrow, whatever you say. So if you’ll just give me the $3000, I will be on my way”. Portnoy had raised his voice and was clipping each word sharply with marked enunciation as if he was speaking in a crowd and didn’t want to be drowned out.
Braun squinted at Portnoy and looked perplexed as he pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and held it in front of him. “I changed my mind, Portnoy” Braun said as he glared at his antagonist. “You tried to shake me down yesterday after we had a firm deal years ago and no one does that to Woodrow Braun. However, I talked to our associates and they convinced me you were in dire financial straits. So, you can thank them for convincing me to make this additional contribution to your well-being.” Braun, his fleeting plans for diplomacy long forgotten, spit out his words with contumely, no longer caring how Portnoy would react.
To emphasize his contempt, he threw the envelope on the ground in front of Portnoy and watched passively as the ex-councilman picked it up and fingered the contents. Portnoy took the bills out and waived them menacingly in Braun’s face and started laughing as he turned to look back across the driveway toward the trees. On cue, there was a flash from the trees and Braun froze.
Portnoy acted quickly to get Braun re-focused on him. “What, only $1500 measly bucks when we agreed on $3000?” he shouted, feigning anger. “Take it or leave it, Portnoy. I don’t give a tinker’s damn. Now get lost” Braun bellowed.
There was rustling in the trees but Braun didn’t seem to notice. He turned away but Portnoy grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, anxious to play his role as the aggrieved co-conspirator to the hilt. Braun swung one arm back toward Portnoy and clipped his right hand, sending bills fluttering to the ground as Fogarty emerged from the trees, rapidly snapping pictures.
Braun looked aghast, first at a b
emused Portnoy and then at Fogarty, who pulled his badge from his pocket and calmly announced “Police”. Then, Braun heard a voice behind Fogarty say “Mr. Portnoy, would you please gather up the money, put it in the envelope and bring it to me?” Still transfixed, Braun saw Meacham walk slowly from the shadows and calmly say, “I am sure you will have a perfectly logical explanation for what just happened, Mr. Braun. In fact, we will be calling you down to the station to give you every opportunity to do so. Oh, and don’t make any travel plans.”
Braun was stunned into speechlessness and he looked alternately at all three men facing him. Portnoy was grinning broadly, Fogarty was shaking the camera as a reminder of the scene that had just been captured on film and Meacham was waiving his hand in a mocking good-bye. Braun turned away and staggered up the driveway as if he had just taken a mighty blow.
***
Back at the station, Portnoy was ebullient as he signed another statement re-capping the morning’s escapade with Braun. As he was leaving, after being reminded to stay in town, a call came in from Sgt. Whipple.
Frank Neidermeyer had clammed up when asked about the bank deposits and any nefarious connection with the Braun land sales to the City. His parting words to Whipple had been “subpoena me” when asked if he would return to Parlor City and voluntarily make a written statement for the record.
As Meacham listened in on the speaker phone in the Chief’s office, Whipple said, “It may seem strange, Chief, but it felt like he was prepared for my visit – like someone had tipped him off.”
After Whipple hung up, the Chief looked at Meacham before asking, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Meacham nodded and said, “Yeah, that little weasel still has at least one mole planted here in the station. It will take time to weed him – or them – out. In the meantime, we need to be very careful what we discuss in front of others.”
Instinctively, the Chief lowered his voice. “Let Fogarty know that we will bring Braun in later today. He needs to keep an especially close eye on him until then.”
***
Braun had been frantically calling Wattle, first at his lake cottage and then at his house in town. He let the phone ring, cursing first under his breath and then out loud when no one answered.
No longer trusting anyone in Parlor City, he finally got in touch with his lawyer in Arizona and related the Portnoy incident to him, making it appear as if he had been the epitome of decorum. After being advised to say nothing without legal counsel present, the lawyer added “Whatever you do, Woodrow, do not lose your temper. If and when you need me there, call me day or night.”
Braun hung up the phone emitting what sounded to the attorney like a garbled “yeah, sure”. He had known Braun since he moved to Arizona and they occasionally played golf together. He understood that his client, especially if he was drinking or was in the least bit agitated, would be the last one to show discretion.
Braun’s legs felt heavy as he plodded toward the stairs to go looking for his wife. There was a sharp rap at the door which made Braun’s face flare up, as he imagined that the police had already returned to harass him. When he opened the door, he was instead greeted by Edith Westcott – his wife’s sister.
“And what is it that you want?” said Braun with blunt contempt. Edith was the antithesis of her sister and it riled him just to be in the same room with her. It irritated him even more that the feeling was mutual and she did nothing to hide her disdain.
Undeterred, Edith returned his sneer and said, “Certainly not here to see you, Braun. I’ve come to pick up my sister and am not leaving without her. She’s coming to stay with me – as long as she likes, I might add.” It amused her to call him by his last name and she could see that it rattled him, as always. He was so easy, she thought, as she countered his glare with a placid smile.
Before he could respond, the subdued voice of his wife could be heard from the stairs. “That’s correct, Woodrow, I have decided to visit Edith for a while. How long, I am not sure but my decision is final.”
Braun noticed that his wife was wearing a hat, a sure sign that she was going out. She had stationed two suitcases on either side of her and was attempting to balance them on the stairs. Edith broke the silence with “Let me carry one of them for you, dearie.”
“Leave with her now, Adele, and don’t plan to come back. It’ll be a cold day in hell before you set foot in my house again. Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Braun was glaring and Edith, sensing that her sister might be vacillating under this verbal barrage, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door, seizing one of the suitcases in the process. “Come along, sister. He’s trying the intimidation tactic again. I warned you just as much when you called me. Get the other suitcase and let’s get out of here before he gets any more violent.”
With arms locked, the sisters moved to the door, each of them dragging a suitcase behind them. Braun bellowed “This is your last chance”, causing his wife to turn and, seeming to gain stature in her sister’s presence, looked intently at her husband and said “You never understood why he just up and vanished, Woodrow, did you? It wasn’t to get away from a marriage that you found unsuitable and tried to undermine. It wasn’t just because of the drinking. It was also to escape from you. I wish I knew why I waited so long to tell you. Perhaps, because at long last, it will never make a difference.”
And then the door closed behind them and Woodrow Braun was left to himself.
***
Braun sat in a big leather chair where he could look out on the long driveway. He kept a steady gaze, not wanting to be surprised by another unwelcome guest. He was confident that his wife would come back – she always did her duty. But after the wild accusations she had made, did he even want her to return? Of course, they were outrageous and false. Sure, he had roughed up his son from time to time but what father didn’t do the same to keep his kid in line? It was the military way, tear the raw recruit down and build him back up as a soldier.
Then his mind wandered to the cash payments to Portnoy. As for the first one, it was speculation on the part of the police that Portnoy’s cash bank deposit came from him. Plus, it was the word of that greasy little man against that of a respected businessman. As for today, he was just helping someone whom he knew who was down on his luck. Where was the crime in that? Wattle was right. There was nothing to worry about if everyone remained calm.
But as Braun slowly sipped his cocktail, an un-named, over-arching fear was starting to gnaw at him. Everything about Parlor City was poisonous and the sooner he could leave town the better. So, he would give a statement to the police after consulting his lawyer. If they wanted more, they could come see him in Arizona.
That left one piece of unfinished business – the only reason he stayed in Parlor City after his son’s funeral. Even before Tommy died, he had hatched this plan to manage Woody’s future and make the boy beholden to him. He certainly wasn’t going to give up now.
Braun looked at his watch. It was close to 3:00 and she would be home from the hospital in an hour or so. He had been carefully pacing himself so as not to get drunk. He felt a comfortable buzz as he polished off the last of his drink. He smacked his lips, pleased with himself for showing restraint. He could be a reasonable person if others listed to logic. That’s all that he asked.
The ringing of the phone startled Braun but after two rings it stopped. Braun grabbed the receiver but heard only a dial tone. Someone playing games? Wrong number? Maybe Wattle was trying to reach him?
Braun looked at his watch again. Yeah, he had time to make a stop before going to confront his daughter-in-law.
***
“He’s probably not going to say a word without his lawyer present, Billy” said the Chief after Meacham suggested that they bring Braun in for questioning that afternoon.
“I know it’s a long shot, Chief, but my thinking is that he is most likely highly agitated after the trap we laid for him with Portnoy and he just might blurt something out, with sufficient
provocation, that he won’t say in the morning. Isn’t it at least worth a try?” Meacham concluded with an earnest plea.
“Okay, tell Fogarty to go up to the door and tell him – and I emphasize very politely - that we would like to hear his side of the story after listening to some accusations made by Portnoy. No pressure tactics, no sarcasm, nothing that will set him off. Braun still has influential contacts in this town even if Wattle is no longer pulling the strings. Promise me you will relate this message to Fogarty exactly as I have spoken it, Billy?” The Chief knitted his brow until Meacham smiled and gave him the high sign.
***
“Too late, Meach, he’s already on the move. I am following him now as we speak and will check back in a few minutes. Could be that he is going to see Portnoy again” offered Fogarty.
“He’s not that stupid, Fogie. He might like to wreak some vengeance on him – or us, for that matter – but not right now. Listen, it is critical that you keep the updates frequent and the Chief wants no unnecessary confrontations. He’s adamant on that point so we need to conduct ourselves like a boy scouts for the time being. As soon as you have even an inkling of his destination, I need to know it.”
***
No one answered the door at Wattle’s lake cottage and everything looked dark inside. Braun had vowed to remain calm but found himself banging on the door so hard that he thought he heard it crack. He hated to admit it but he dearly wanted Wattle’s advice, more so than his lawyer’s, on how to handle himself in what was clearly an imminent session with the police. Since it was on the way to his final destination, he decided to drive by Wattle’s house in town on the off-chance that he might catch him there instead.
“He just left Wattle’s cottage and is now headed downtown, Meach. He pounded on the door like a madman. I would say he’s getting anxious” Fogarty concluded.
The Parlor City Boys Page 27