“Take your hands off! They’re my father’s.”
“Of course they are.” She patted his head. “Your father’s a rich man. He should have diamonds, not that he gave your mother any. Where does he keep these?”
“It’s a secret.”
“You can tell me.” She tickled him under the chin. “It’ll be our secret. My, these must be worth a lot of money, I never saw so many at once before. Where does he keep them, Jon?”
“Go away.”
“Come on, now…”
The door opened, and Rudy asked, “What the hell’s going on here?”
* * * *
Elvira went home immediately. Without explanation, she dragged Howard out to their prewar Studebaker and they drove off.
Rudy and Jon walked back upstairs to Rudy’s bedroom. Slowly, Rudy collected the diamonds and dropped them into the bag.
“How long,” he asked gently, “have you known of these?”
“A couple years,” Jon admitted. “I found them playing hide-and-seek.”
“Well, you mustn’t tell anyone. What’d you tell Elvira?”
“Nothing. Except it was a secret.”
“Fine. It is a secret, understand?”
“Yes, Poppa.”
“Not even Bess knows of these. Only Schatz knows, and he’ll never tell. Not even your mother knew. A man must have secrets, even from those closest to him.”
Jon began to feel more at ease. He ventured, “There are a lot more than there used to be. At first, the bag wasn’t so full. And now there’s a bag in the other shoe, too.”
“That’s true.” Rudy seemed to be considering something. “Jon, I’ll confide in you, but swear by the Gods you’ll never betray my confidence. Agreed?”
“Agreed. I promise I’ll never, never tell.”
“Well, you must be wondering why I hide diamonds in shoes instead of putting them out for people to admire. But these diamonds, you see, are my hard wealth. If times get bad and all my other wealth is taken from me, I’ll still have the diamonds, now almost a million dollars’ worth. Also, the diamonds keep me safe. Once, long ago, I escaped certain death through them, and ever since, if I think I’m in danger, I wear the brown shoes. Believe me, diamonds can always get a man out of a jam. Remember that.”
“I will.” Encouraged by his father’s frankness, Jon asked a question that had been on his mind for some time. “Poppa, what’s a mongrel?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Dinah Lord said her father called me a mongrel.”
“He did, did he?” Rudy chuckled. “Well yes, you’re a mongrel, but don’t worry about it. I never did. I’m a mongrel too. It means that in your veins runs the blood of so many breeds of beautiful women and smart, handsome men that if you wished you could claim almost any nationality as your own. Adam Lord is a fool. You’ll learn that as you grow up. It’s not your ancestry that counts. It’s what you can accomplish—and how much money people think you have.”
* * * *
A week before Christmas, Schatz appeared unannounced in the brownstone. Jon was stalking imaginary Indians in the first-floor hall, but Rudy wasn’t aware of that. He ushered Schatz into the study. Jon heard Rudy say, “What’s wrong? You weren’t due back from New York until after the New Year. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”
“I had to see you immediately. I don’t trust phones any more, and if I wrote to the post-office box, you might not pick the letter up in time.”
“This sounds serious.”
“It is.” A glass clinked. “I got the news last night from one of our attorneys, who got it from Washington. Rudy, it’s all over. We’re finished. That certified public accountant, the drunk who’s been fabricating our audits—you know where he is now?”
“Biloxi, Mississippi. He went there last week, to dry out.”
“He was in Biloxi. But a few months ago, Lord hired an ex-policeman named Train to investigate us. A very tough policeman, so tough that some politicians got him kicked off the force because he wouldn’t play ball with them.”
“What of it?”
“Two days ago, Train’s agents picked up our accountant and took him to Washington. He’s locked in a hotel room and, Rudy, he’s telling them everything. They give him a fifth of bourbon each morning and then sit back, turn the recorder on and let him talk. He’s making a deal, state’s evidence. They’re trying to keep it quiet until the New Year, but soon they’ll have it sewed up. They’ll bring him before a federal grand jury and we’ll be indicted for every financial crime in the book.”
“They can’t do it.” Rudy was indignant. “We have friends in Washington.”
“We had friends. What did you expect? They were small fry, clerks and civil servants, not people who count.” There was a pause. “You saw what happened to Venus today. It dropped nearly two points. Our friends in Washington did that. They sold their stock, and advised their friends and relatives to sell too.”
“The ingrates. The miserable ingrates…”
“Rudy, we’re a sinking ship, they’re getting off, and who blames them? By next week, more people will know, and Venus will drop faster. It’ll be so bad that a few days after Christmas the exchange will suspend trading. Then the indictments. Then—”
“All right, all right. Goddam ‘and then.’” Another glass clinked. “What lousy luck. Another two months, Schatz, and we’d be set. But I’ll never be able to assemble all the funds in the next few days.”
We have plenty now. Don’t be greedy. A Panamanian freighter leaves for Havana day after tomorrow, and in Havana I’ve already arranged—”
“Forget it. Make it the first freighter after Christmas.”
Why? Are you such a sentimentalist?”
“No, but in that time I could assemble another hundred thousand or so anyhow. It would kill me to think of leaving that cash in banks.”
“Don’t be a fool.”
“I told you. After Christmas. That’s how it is. Besides, I can’t drop out of sight without preparing people for my absence. Every policeman in the country would be looking for me. I’d never get as far east as Ohio. No, I’ll have to invent a story. If the roads are clear of snow, I’ll say I’m driving out of town alone in the Cadillac. Only instead of going where people think I’m going, I’ll go to New York and meet you.”
“Very well. One more thing. What about Gardino? You’ve repaid him, haven’t you? The margin money?”
“No.”
“Rudy, with those boys you don’t fool around. You know the business they’re in.”
“So what? They’re lenders, like anyone else. Every lender makes allowance for bad debts. Anyhow, I think Gardino’s a paper tiger. He made threats last summer, that’s why I hired the bodyguard, but nothing happened. Gardino is afraid to lift a finger against me. I’m too prominent and I’m in too deep to him, he has too much to lose. I’m no two-bit dope pusher, he understands that. And when I saw him last week, I shut him up by giving him a few thousand shares of Venus as partial security for the loan.”
“In a week that stock will be worth half what it’s worth today.”
“Relax. Gardino isn’t very bright, he’ll be the last to realize how low Venus will go. When we’re established in the new place, I’ll negotiate with him for a settlement. I don’t want his gunmen hounding me the rest of my life. Meanwhile let him sit on his stock, in the illusion his loan is protected.”
There was another pause.
“All right,” Schatz said. “Tomorrow I’ll airmail a letter to the post-office box, with details on the next freighter.”
“Don’t look so worried, Schatz. We always survive. Keep your head, that’s the main thing.”
Jon scurried down the hall and hid behind a chair. A moment later, Rudy and Schatz walked out of the study. Schatz thrust his hands deep
in his overcoat pockets, and Rudy patted him on the back.
When Schatz was gone, Rudy waited near the front door for a moment. Then he went upstairs, changed to a brown suit, and put on his brown shoes.
CHAPTER 3
The Christmas tree reached to the ceiling and filled a whole corner of the living room, but on the day of Christmas Eve a curiously depressed mood prevailed. Bess had left the night before, for her mother’s in Buffalo. From there she was to fly to a Miami rendezvous with Rudy. Rudy had told everyone he planned to drive to Miami Beach because driving relaxed his nerves. He’d leave Christmas Day, spend the night in St. Louis and the next in Georgia, and vacation in Florida for at least a month.
Skipper had left to spend the holidays with his uncle in Wisconsin. Jon moped around the house and stared out the window, still upset by the conversation he’d overheard between his father and Schatz. Rudy got home at four and went to his study, where he remained until nearly dinner. He came out and, noting Jon’s somber face, ordered the cook and the maid to dine with them, so the evening would be more festive.
Self-consciously the servants sipped champagne and nibbled at their food, while Rudy kept up a constant line of chatter. After dinner they went to the living room and sang carols. Then Jon opened his presents. He got a lot of them, including an electric train, an air rifle, a fire truck and a football autographed by all the Wolves, who had finished in last place.
At seven, Rudy gave the cook an envelope. “Tickets,” he explained with a wink, “to the hit musical in the Loop. I phoned personally for these, the best seats in the house, so you ladies dress up, take in the show and have some Christmas cheer afterward. There’s cash in the envelope too, a bonus for your loyalty.”
The servants gone, Rudy went back to the study and returned with an armload of documents. One by one, he fed them into the fireplace. Jon looked up from the floor, where he’d been running his train, and asked, “What are you doing, Poppa?”
“Destroying records.” Rudy spoke woodenly. “When the time comes, a man must always destroy old records.”
He brought another load, and another, and another. After a while Jon tired of playing with the train. He went to the study. Papers were strewn everywhere. The wall safe was open and Rudy, his back to Jon, bent over a black attaché case on his desk. Jon came closer. The case was full of cash and securities.
Rudy turned. “Jon! You startled me…” Quickly, he shut the attaché case. “That’s not fair, old man. Sneaking up on your poor father.” He hoisted Jon into his arms and rose. “And it’s nearly ten. Time for bed.”
“Aw, gee…”
“Come on. No arguments. We’ll go to my room, where I’ll give you an extra Christmas present, and then it’s off to sleep with you.” They went upstairs. “You’ll be a tall fellow, won’t you? Not a shorty, like me. When you grow up, the girls will be mad for you.”
Rudy deposited Jon on the bed, rummaged in a drawer and found a thin gold chain, which he slipped over Jon’s head. Something dangled from the end of the chain. Rudy held it up, so Jon could see it better. “Here. A shark’s tooth from the China Sea. When I was your age, it was my good-luck charm. My father gave it to me, now I’m giving it to you.”
Jon admired the gift. “Does it really bring luck?”
“That depends. A man always makes his own luck, which is why I don’t wear it any more, but a charm like this could bring luck to a boy!” Rudy’s expression became serious. “And now I must tell you something. This is very important. People think I’ll drive to Miami tomorrow, but that’s not true.”
“I know,” Jon said, letting the shark’s tooth slip from his hand. “You’re going to New York. To get on a boat.”
“You know that?”
“I heard you talk about it with Schatz.”
“I see.” Rudy seemed disturbed. “Well, that’s another big secret, like the diamonds. A very big secret.”
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
“I guess you wouldn’t. I can trust you, can’t I. Yes, I’m going to another place, not Miami Beach, but don’t despair. When I get there, I’ll send for you. For you and Bess. You like Bess?”
“I love Bess.”
“Of course. We both do. You, me, and Bess, we’ll live like royalty where it’s always warm, nothing but palm trees, pretty beaches and cheap servants. We’ll have a grand time I”
“Won’t we ever come back? Won’t we build the mansion at the Retreat?”
“Your favorite place? I’m afraid not, but where we’ll live we’ll own much more land, and build a much bigger mansion, you’ll see. But meanwhile, instead of staying here, you’ll have to live for a while with Aunt Elvira.”
“With her?” Jon was utterly dismayed.
“Yes, with her.” Rudy winked again. “I know, she’s a prune. But be a good soldier, obey my orders. She’ll be nice to you. She’d better be—with the money I’ll pay her. And after all, she’s your dear mother’s sister, she loves you too.”
“She doesn’t. I wanna go with you.”
“You can’t. It’ll be a long, dangerous journey. But don’t worry, the diamonds will keep me safe, that’s what they’re for. And at my destination there’ll be other complications. It may be a while before you can join me, but I will send for you. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t cry.” Rudy wiped a tear from Jon’s cheek. “That’s how life goes. One phase follows another, but that’s the interesting thing. You never know what’s next, only that what’s next will be different.”
“When do I have to go to Aunt Elvira’s?”
“Tomorrow. She thinks I’m driving to Florida too, and so does everyone else. I’ll write her later and explain, but meanwhile play dumb. Don’t tell Elvira a thing. And play dumb with anyone else who asks questions, understand? People who ask questions are my enemies. They want to hurt me, to keep you from joining me. They’ll ask about my affairs and what you may have seen or heard here, but you’ll be silent as a clam. You’ll tell them nothing, nothing, nothing! Give me your sacred promise?”
“I do. My sacred promise.”
Rudy carried Jon to his own room, helped him undress, and put him to bed.
“You’re a good son. Much better than I deserve.” He kissed Jon, something he rarely did. “Sleep now. Merry Christmas. And always remember—a man, no matter what he’s been, can always get by in this world by convincing others he can make money for them. That’s the true secret, little Jon, of acquiring wealth.”
* * * *
The front doorbell sounded.
Troubled and half asleep, Jon barely heard it. He rolled over, clutching the pillow, which was wet with tears, and dozed some more.
Indistinct voices intruded. Rudy’s, and that of another man. Jon’s eyes opened. The voices stopped and Rudy walked quickly to his study, but from the direction of the front hall Jon heard a muffled cough.
Jon climbed out of bed, opened the door and moved silently to the head of the stairs, where he kneeled in the shadows and peered down. On the frosted glass panel separating the vestibule from the front hall, the outline of a large man was silhouetted. He wore a fedora and an overcoat and puffed on a cigarette. After a while he dropped the cigarette and ground it out. Then, hands thrust deep in his overcoat pockets, he began to pace back and forth.
Rudy returned, carrying his attaché case.
“Look,” Rudy said, putting the case down. “I’ll only be a minute. I want to say good-bye to the boy.”
The man moved into the front hall. “Christ, don’t do that.” He was broad-shouldered and thick in the chest, but not fat. His face was squarish but irregular in contour; his eyes were small, and he had a strong jaw, narrow lips and a crooked, bumpy nose. That’s what impressed Jon the most—the bumpy nose. “Suppose he came down here and saw me? And told Train and the cops about m
e? Anyhow, we need every second we can get before the alarm goes out.”
“All right, all right.” Resignedly, Rudy opened the closet, pulled out his overcoat, slipped into it and began buttoning it. “You’ve got a point. It’s best for both of us if Jon doesn’t know what you look like. Things will be complicated enough for him as it is. Poor Jon, he won’t have an easy time of it…?
Rudy paused before the mirror, tilting his Homburg at just the right angle. He picked up the attach case and said, “Let’s go.”
He and the stranger walked out.
Jon scampered down to the living room, climbed on the sofa and peeked through the drapes. Rudy had already entered a gray Ford coupé. He sat in the front, on the passenger’s side. The stranger waited behind the car, his back to Jon, as another car drove by. Then he walked around the coupé, reached for the door handle and looked up.
Quickly, Jon pulled his head back. The drapes closed. He didn’t know if the stranger had seen him or not.
When he peered out again, the Ford was vanishing around a corner.
A few snowflakes drifted down.
Slowly, Jon went back up to bed, but he didn’t sleep.
* * * *
The cook and the maid returned a little after one. Giggling and whispering, they stumbled to their rooms. The house settled into silence. Jon lay for what seemed an eternity, staring at the ceiling until black finally turned to gray. Then he got up, donned a robe and went downstairs.
Much later, the maid found him perched on a living-room chair, his arms clutching his knees to his chest.
“Jon? You all right? Come along, we’ll give you breakfast.”
Dutifully, Jon trailed after her, but he couldn’t eat.
“I think he’s sick,” the cook said. “I’d better wake his father.”
“Don’t do that,” Jon said quickly. “Don’t bother him.”
The cook went upstairs anyhow. In a minute she returned, very worried. “I don’t understand. He’s not there. Jon, did your father go out last night?”
“I don’t know. But if he isn’t upstairs, I guess he went to Miami.”
The James Michael Ullman Crime Novel Page 41