by Ron Finch
Monday, January 23rd
CHIEF PETROVIC LIKED to start the week with a meeting every Monday morning at 9 o’clock. He thought that having a meeting was a good idea for several reasons: it brought everybody together before the start of the next week; it helped develop camaraderie; it was an opportunity to summarize what had happened the previous week; and it was an opportunity to discuss any problems that had arisen.
This week, there was a lot to discuss. Cst. Herman was at our meeting, to everyone’s delight. This was his first day back at work. Chief Petrovic had told him he was only working nine to noon this week. The chief would check with Peter at the end of the week to see how he was feeling.
“The first item on our agenda today is to discuss how we can be better prepared to conduct extensive property searches,” said Chief Petrovic. “We need to realize we are unfamiliar with these properties, and that we need to conduct the search in a serious frame of mind. I know when you arrive at a farm, and you know you already have permission to search the property, you anticipate it will be a long and possibly boring chore. You don’t see any dangerous aspect to it at all. I guess the lesson we learned this past week is that we must always be prepared, as best we can, for anything that may happen.
“So, once this meeting is over, I want the four of you to remain at this table to prepare a list of all the things you think we should carry with us when we embark on a property search. I think we were somewhat prepared, but I think you will find some things that should be added to our knapsacks. We were fortunate the other day that Joel’s fiancée Georgie is such a tenacious young woman. If she hadn’t insisted, in such a determined manner, that we instigate a search immediately the outcome could’ve been tragic. I’ll let you know right now, Joel, she can really get on your case.”
Everyone laughed at that.
“I know that, from now on, I will not leave my office until the search team has reported in,” continued the chief. “Further – and this is not a rebuke to Joel and Peter – take your guns with you. Not only can they be used for protection, but they can be used to signal for help.”
The chief then turned to Peter and said, “Cst. Herman wanted to speak at this meeting.”
Cst. Herman was very emotional and had difficulty speaking. “Joel is a great partner,” he started. “When I needed him, he was there. Without his help I would be dead. He took me to shelter, he got a fire going, and he encouraged me as much as he could.” Cst. Herman had to stop to get control of himself. Then he continued. “I also owe my life to you, Chief Petrovic, for getting the search party going, and for having Dr. Fitzgerald at the Conrad home. I am also indebted to Cst. Jarvis, Cst. Smith, Joel’s dad, and Roger Conrad for getting me back to the Conrad farm house. The Conrads’ hospitality to me and my wife while I was recovering was much appreciated.” Cst. Herman had to sit down. He had desperately wanted to say the words he had spoken but now he could say no more.
There was silence for a minute or two.
“Thank you very much, Cst. Herman,” said Chief Petrovic. “I’m proud of you and proud of this team.” After a pause the chief continued. “There is one other item on this morning’s agenda. Let me explain the good idea that Cst. Herman has come up with. Cst. Herman is going to be spending his mornings at the land registry office in the County Courthouse here in Chaseford for the remainder of this week, and for longer if necessary. Cst. Herman has talked to Stan Harris, who was in charge of the local tax records for forty years until his retirement last year. Stan is an encyclopedia of knowledge about property records, current and past owners, and changes that occurred to those properties. He has agreed to help Cst. Herman prepare a list of all those people who owned the farm properties we are interested in prior to the current owners. To start with, the list will go back thirty years. We are still not certain how old the body parts are, but we know they are not recent.
“The rest of us will continue with our searches. But the next search will not take place until next Monday at the earliest, weather providing. For the next month, or until I’m convinced Peter is well enough to search, I will assign the search teams. There will still be two constables on a team, but the twosome will rotate and there will always be one constable on duty in town.
“This meeting is over. There will be a break for pie and tea and then you are to carry on with your duties.”
I WENT OVER TO GEORGIE’S parents’ house for supper. The Harkness family lived on Durham Street, just a block or so from where my parents lived. They were really excited about our engagement. Georgie is the only girl in the family. She’s a nurse at the local hospital, and her parents are very proud of her. I told them the details of the near tragedy at the Conrad farm, including Georgie’s role in getting the search underway, and that made them even prouder.
“She’s always been a very determined girl,” her dad said. “Somehow, without being pushy, she always gets her way.”
Her mother smiled and added, “As long as you do what you’re told Joel, there will be no problems.”
“That’s enough mother,” said Georgie, turning pink.
I had always gotten along really well with Mr. and Mrs. Harkness. We had a very pleasant meal. When we had finished helping with the dishes, Georgie and I headed back to my room at Franklin’s Groceries.
Once we were alone in my apartment, we talked again about the events surrounding the rescue of Cst. Herman at the Conrad farm.
“When you first told me about your connection with Walter I didn’t know whether to believe you or not,” said Georgie. “I was pretty sure you weren’t crazy, but it was a really weird idea. I guess I have to believe you now. I still don’t know who that woman was that knocked on my parents’ door. When my father answered it, she just handed him an envelope with my name on it and turned and left before he could say anything. She was tightly bundled up because of the heavy snow, so we never really got a look at her. My dad handed me the envelope and I read the note inside. It said:
“Walter says: Joel and Peter Herman are trapped at the back of the Conrad farm. Peter needs medical attention. Get people there as soon as you can.
“I tried not to show any emotion because I didn’t want my father connecting the woman to the emergency search that would follow. It would raise too many questions. I knew for certain it was an emergency because the note was from Walter, even if it was delivered by somebody else.”
“Well, you certainly did a great job convincing Chief Petrovic that it was an emergency,” I said.
“I had help,” said Georgie. “I phoned Peter’s wife before I phoned the chief. She was already upset. She called Chief Petrovic too. That convinced him to act. Don’t worry. Your secret is still safe with me.”
“I’m really glad it worked out,” I said. “Something else very positive came out of this situation. I still don’t know the identity of the mystery person, but I did get a note dropped off at my door. The note said:
“I’m glad I could help. It’s great to know that someone else has the same ability I have. Perhaps in the future you will have to return the favour.”
I turned to Georgie and said, “We discovered a way to communicate through Walter. That could be important at some point in the future.”
Chicago, January 1933
NEW YEAR’S WAS OVER and Johnnie Polizzi was counting his money. He was a big fan of Prohibition. It had made him a wealthy man. But as a regular reader of the Chicago Tribune he could see the writing on the wall and knew that sometime this year Prohibition would end. Without Prohibition he wouldn’t make the kind of money he was used to.
When Capone had been running the show, things had been better. At the apex of Al Capone’s Chicago career, he had had Mayor William Hill Thompson and the city police on his payroll. Polizzi had worked for Capone. The illegal distillery business had been a great money-maker. Then the FBI and Eliot Ness had interfered. Capone had been locked up in 1932, and that’s when things started to get a lot more difficult for Johnnie Polizzi.
One day, as they were having their lunch, Ernie said, “I’ve got relatives in this place called Hamilton, Ontario. It’s in Canada, you know.”
“I know that,” said Johnnie. “You and I have been to Ontario at least three times. But it has been a while. Don’t you remember when we were young guys, in 1911, and I bought that fancy Stanley Touring car? We just decided one day to drive to Ontario and visit that girl we’d met in Chicago. Her parents had sent her to DePaul University, remember?”
“I kind of forgot,” said Ernie. “My brother Beno has been pestering me to come visit him. He says Hamilton’s a nice quiet town. It’s not dangerous like Chicago. My niece is getting married on January 28th. I’m seriously considering going. My brother would be glad to see you too. Why don’t you come with me? That would be a great place to find a legitimate business opportunity.”
Johnnie thought for a moment and then said, “Okay, I’ll go. Do I need to pack snowshoes?”
“Not for the ‘Steel City’ you don’t,” answered Ernie, laughing.
Wednesday, January 25th to Saturday, January 28th
JOHNNIE AND ERNIE TOOK the early train out of Chicago on Wednesday morning. They had run their betting operation out of a storefront and had lived in an apartment above the store. It wasn’t fancy.
They left no loose ends. With one thing and another, their wives and families had left them long ago. One of Johnnie’s sons still dropped by regularly, though. Johnnie told him he was going out of town and that, once things were settled down, he would let him know where he was. He wasn’t going to leave any clues behind about his destination for Tony Accardo to follow.
They had to switch trains in Detroit. They boarded a train that ran from Detroit to Toronto with many stops along the way. They would be getting off at the station in Hamilton. Ernie’s brother, Beno, said either he or someone that worked for him would pick them up at the station and take them to his house. The trip was uneventful. Sure enough, late Thursday afternoon, when they arrived at the station in Hamilton, Ernie’s brother Beno was there to pick them up.
Ernie introduced his partner and pal, Johnnie, to Beno.
“I’m thrilled to meet ya,” said Beno. “Ernie tells me you’re a great man, Johnnie. He says you’ve paid him well and protected him. And since you’re both coming out of Chicago alive, it must be true. Just throw your luggage and your bags of money in the back of my car and we’ll head home.”
“This is a pretty nice car you have, Beno,” said Johnnie. “It’s one of those new Chrysler Airflows isn’t it?”
“It is,” said Beno. “I like the design. It looks a little different, but the engineering’s great. My future son-in-law sold it to me. Why don’t you sit up at the front with me? Ernie can sit in the back and guard the money.”
It didn’t take long to get to Beno Stanzio’s home, a substantial house on a large lot. Off to the side was a three-car garage with an apartment above.
“Brother, you’ve done very well,” said Ernie. “I didn’t know you had an estate.”
“The construction business has been good to me,” his brother answered with a wink.
Johnnie and Ernie were staying in the apartment above the garage. That would give them some privacy. When they went into the house for dinner there were women everywhere. There were mothers and grandmothers and daughters, all in a great swirl of excitement about the wedding on Saturday.
THE MOST BLESSED SACRAMENT Roman Catholic Church in Hamilton was packed to overflowing. The wedding was a great occasion. A grand reception was held at Beno Stanzio’s home and Johnnie and Ernie had a good time. After the reception was over, Beno invited Johnnie and Ernie to meet with him in his den.
When they entered the den there was another, older gentleman there. Johnnie recognized him as the groom’s father.
“Let me introduce Carlo Mossa,” said Beno. When the introductions were completed, Beno started the conversation by saying: “I’ve been talking with Johnnie and my brother Ernie and they’ve indicated they may be interested in purchasing a business in Canada. They want something that’s not too big and that’s easy to operate. I immediately thought of your hardware business, Carlo. I know your business does well and that you have an excellent staff. Your son has told me you’re thinking of selling and retiring. I hope I’m not speaking out of turn.”
“Not at all,” said Carlo. “We are like family now. It’s okay for you to know my plans.”
The negotiations began and, with Beno acting as an intermediary, they were successfully concluded within a week. Johnnie Polizzi and Ernie Stanzio would become the owners of a hardware business in Hamilton.
According to Carlo, the business would run itself. Under the terms of the agreement, Carlo would supervise the business until Polizzi and Stanzio took over officially on March 31.
Monday, February 6th
IT WAS ANOTHER 9 O’CLOCK Monday morning meeting in the chief’s office. We were in the heart of winter and we were still searching farms.
“I thought I’d cheer you guys up today,” said Chief Petrovic. “Do you remember the news from last Thursday?”
When we all gave the chief a blank stare he said, “According to the radio, when Punxsutawney Phil emerged from his home on Gobbler’s Knob two miles southeast of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, last Thursday he saw his shadow.”
We all groaned. That meant six more weeks of winter and six more weeks of difficult searches.
It had been two and a half weeks since the trouble on Conrad’s farm. The doctor and Chief Petrovic had both given Cst. Herman the green light to return to his regular duties. When that was announced at the start of today’s meeting everyone cheered. Cst. Herman had a smile on his face that would glow in the dark.
The farm searches had continued as the weather would permit. There had been no more misadventures. Everyone had heard about Cst. Herman’s brush with death and the cooperation and welcome we received when we visited the farms to search was outstanding.
“I’ll turn the meeting over the Cst. Herman so he can give you a report on what he and Stan Harris have been doing at the land registry office,” said Chief Petrovic.
“I know where Stan and I have been searching is a lot warmer than where you have been searching,” said Cst. Herman.
“I hope you’re not teasing us,” said Cst. Jay Jarvis.
“No, I’m just having some fun,” said Cst. Herman, grinning.
“Back to the report please,” said the chief with a smile.
Cst. Herman continued. “It’s a boring process to search titles, but every now and then, especially with Stan’s help, I learn something new. We’ve been averaging about four thorough property searches a day, so we’re almost halfway through the farms in the area that Jay’s map targeted.
“Quite a number of properties have changed hands. But many of those went from father to son, or, on occasion, father to daughter. There have also been some new buildings erected in the past thirty years but not as many as you would think. The older buildings were not usually torn down, although sometimes they were partially dismantled to supply wood or timbers for a new building. In this area, it seems people
are more liable to try and fix the building they have than build a new one.
“During our search, to date, Stan and I noted three farms that currently, or in the past, had abattoirs. We think they deserve extra attention. We’ve also found two occasions where farm houses were destroyed by fire. One of those is of special interest to Stan and me. It’s the Featherstone farm.”
“I know that story,” interjected the chief. “I was a young man and had just started my career as a constable. It must be over twenty years since the fire. There was a very large home on that farm. At the time it may have been the biggest house in the county. The Featherstones were very well-to-do. Then tragedy struck. Late one fall evening, the large farmhouse was destroyed in a fire.
“When the fire site had cooled down and we were able to look through the debris we found only one body. It appeared to be a young female. It was likely the body of Nancy Featherstone. She was their youngest and only child and lived in the house with them. She would have been about twenty when she died. So far as the neighbours knew, Nancy and her mom and dad were the only ones in the house. Since that time, her parents have never been seen.”
“Stan and I were able to dig up the following information,” said Cst. Herman. “The spring after the fire, Mr. Featherstone’s brother William took over responsibility for the farm. He was the only living relative that could be found. Over the next several years, other farmers worked the land. They split the profits from the land with William Featherstone and that money went into the Featherstone estate. Then seven years after the fire the courts declared the Featherstones dead in absentia. The estate, including the farm, passed on to William Featherstone. He died a couple of years ago. His son Henry now has title to the farm.”