Last Stop in Brooklyn

by Lawrence H. Levy

  “Sorry, Mr. Roosevelt, I didn’t know it was you.”

  Two weeks before Roosevelt had finally accepted the job as president of New York’s police commission. He wasn’t one to sit idly in an office. Roosevelt had taken to the streets every night to check on his officers. He had found a lot that he didn’t like, and Williams was about to find out how much. He got out of his carriage and approached.

  “You straighten them out in there, Captain Williams, making sure there was no illegal gambling going on?”

  “Yes, sir. I believe in showing a strong police presence just in case they get any ideas.” He twirled his club as if defining what that presence was.

  “So you weren’t in there just to get your weekly handout?”

  The big guy had been caught off guard and stammered for a few seconds before he responded. “Handout? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Handout. It’s when a policeman is given a bribe to look the other way. Maybe you know it better as extortion.”

  “Mr. Roosevelt, I take great offense—”

  “Be offended all you like…as a civilian. You’re fired.”

  “You can’t—”

  “But I can. Turn your badge and uniform in tomorrow.” Roosevelt headed back to his carriage.

  “You won’t get away with it. I’m gonna fight this.”

  Roosevelt had entered his carriage and now leaned out the window. “Please do. You’ll find you don’t have a leg to stand on. Or should I say a club?” He signaled and the carriage took off.

  For the first time in years the bombastic Williams was left with nothing to say.

  The next morning Roosevelt had a visitor in his outer office waiting for him when he came in. He was expecting this visitor and was slightly surprised he hadn’t gotten a phone call from him the night before.

  Upon seeing Roosevelt, Byrnes marched right up to him. “We need ta speak.”

  “Indeed we do, Inspector Byrnes. Please step into my office.” He gestured for Byrnes to go first. At the door, Roosevelt offered, “Open or closed? Your choice.”

  “Close it.”

  “As you wish.” He then took a seat behind his big mahogany desk. Byrnes was too excited to sit. He paced.

  “How could ya fire Clubber? Give me one good reason.”

  “He’s a crook. Is that good enough or do you want more?”

  “That’s never been proven. The Lexow Committee tried several times and nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

  “The beauty of my situation is I’m not the Lexow Committee. I don’t have to prove how he made hundreds of thousands of dollars on a meager policeman’s salary. If I smell crooked, he’s gone.”

  “Yer makin’ a huge mistake. He’s one of our finest.”

  “It depends on your definition of ‘finest.’ If it means being your partner in cover-ups and crimes, then you’re right.”

  “What are ya implyin’?

  “I don’t imply. Maybe you haven’t heard. I’m a straight talker.”

  “Ya callin’ me a crook?”

  “It took time, but you’re finally catching on.”

  “I’m gonna sue ya for slander.”

  “You can. Of course, then you’d have to explain the three hundred and five thousand dollars you have in the bank. Even if a jury believes you acquired it from, as you have said in the past, stock tips from your friends Andrew Carnegie, Jay Gould, and Russell Sage, they’re going to wonder what you did to make them so friendly.”

  “I did nothin’ wrong!”

  “That would be your contention. But before entering such a suit, you should know it will look much worse if you win and they only award you a dollar for damages to your precious reputation.”

  “Yer gonna regret this.” Byrnes headed for the door.

  “I don’t think so. And by the way, if I haven’t said it yet, you’re fired, Inspector Byrnes.”

  Byrnes stomped out. Roosevelt sat back in his chair. Two weeks on the job and he was already having a fine time of it. He was glad that Henry had been so insistent and Edith so accommodating. And he had to thank Jacob for bringing Mary Handley to that meeting. She was a very bright lady and very convincing.

  May 18 was Jeffrey’s birthday, and Mary couldn’t think of a better way to honor her father than to get married on his day. In a way, she had found out how much she cared about Harper because of Jeffrey. When he died, she was devastated, and the only one she could think of seeing was Harper. She ran to his apartment and collapsed into his arms. He was incredibly gentle. He held and soothed her and made her feel secure and loved. Besides the sadness, there was something special about the weeks after her father died. Harper was always there for her, always considerate, and always patient when her mood turned dark and she felt the need to strike out at someone. He took it, sometimes deflecting her upset with humor and sometimes just remaining silent. She got to meet Harper’s large and boisterous family and really enjoyed them. Harper’s father was the opposite of him: a working-class man of few words who was inarticulate but who also adored his son. It was evident Harper loved him, too.

  Mary decided he definitely was a keeper. That was why she stood alone in the vestibule of their local church in the bridal dress that her mother had worn, waiting to marry Harper Lloyd.

  Elizabeth entered. “What’s going on, Mary? We’re already an hour late.”

  “I’m waiting for Sean. He’s giving me away.”

  “If he doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to or the meat is going to be overcooked and I’ll kick myself for using prime instead of chuck.”

  After Jeffrey died, Mary and Sean had tried to convince Elizabeth to sell the butcher shop to give her a cushion until she could find a job. Elizabeth refused.

  “No, it was your father’s dream, and I’m going to run it.”

  “What do you know about running a butcher shop?” they both asked.

  “I know meats. I’ve been cooking all my life, and really, what is there to know? All I have to do is hire a hard worker who’s desperate and loyal to a fault like your poor father was and I’ll be fine.”

  Elizabeth was right, and even more surprising to her children, she turned out to be a very good businesswoman. Her special skill was haggling with the meat sellers over price. No one took advantage of her. She was hardworking and demanding of her employees but also fair. One unexpected perk of her work was that it changed her obsession from her children to the butcher shop, for which they were forever grateful. It had been eight months since Jeffrey’s death, and she was already successful enough to be contemplating a second Handley Meats store.

  Sean entered, a bit out of breath. “I’m finally here. Sorry.”

  “It’s about time,” said Elizabeth. “Let’s get this wedding started.” She left.

  “I couldn’t help it, Mary. Just as I was about to leave the station I got called into the captain’s office.” He paused, then a smile engulfed his face. “He promoted me, gave me my own office. A nice one, too.”

  “That’s wonderful, Sean! Congratulations!” She hugged him.

  “A pretty good day for the Handleys—you get married and I get promoted, all on Dad’s birthday.”

  “Yes, and speaking of getting married—”

  “Right. Let’s get to it.” He held out his arm and she took it.

  It didn’t take long for Elizabeth to burst into tears. The first sight of Sean escorting Mary coupled with the beginning chords of the “Wedding March” was more than enough. Her sobs grew as they walked down the aisle together, passing Lazlo, Gerta, Superintendent Campbell and his wife, Jacob Riis, Ivan Nowak, Sarah, Walter, and their children. Harper’s huge family cheered and burst into applause.

  As Sean was about to deliver Mary to Harper, they exchanged impish glances, happy for their mother and in a way relishing sweet revenge after the many years of aggravation she had given Mary about this.

  Irrespective of that, it was clear that Mary and Harper were very much in love as they stared into each other’
s eyes and took their vows.

  A woman with long brunette hair and a sensible church dress sat in the back row by herself. As the wedding ceremony began, she rose and left. She had plans for that day and she didn’t want to put them off. While walking down the street, she saw two German tourists who were lost. She very politely interrupted and gave them the directions they needed in flawless German, then continued on her way. Crossing the street, she reached under the neckline of her dress, revealing a burn scar on her hand. She pulled out a necklace that had been tucked inside. It was a gold chain with a beautiful diamond and gold heart locket. Reacquiring it had been a bit of a bother but worth it. She picked up her pace, feeling emboldened and sure that opportunities were awaiting her.

  EPILOGUE

  Roosevelt’s nighttime patrols to check on officers became a regular habit. He shook up the New York City Police Department, ridding it of all the rotten apples he could find. After two years, the politicians got nervous that their own “favored” positions would be threatened. They got together and abolished the position of president of the police commission, giving all members an equal vote, thus ending the Roosevelt purge. Motivated to get Roosevelt out of New York City, the Republicans secured another post for him as assistant secretary of the navy. Not too long afterward the Spanish-American War broke out and his Rough Riders became legendary. He returned to New York, ran for governor, and won. Again, the politicians were worried about how much he might usurp their power and they offered him a place on the presidential ticket as vice president because it was well-known the vice president had no power at all. Needless to say, that strategy backfired. The presidential candidate was William McKinley and shortly after being elected he was assassinated. The assassin was an anarchist.

  The wheels of justice sometimes grind slowly, as Ameer Ben Ali found out. Even though it was clearly shown that his conviction was a sham, overturning a guilty verdict takes time. Eleven years after his conviction, on April 16, 1902, Ameer was finally set free and the Algerian government paid for his transport back to Algeria.

  William Laidlaw was not as lucky. Russell Sage kept appealing his case until 1899 when Laidlaw, exhausted and broke, finally gave up. True to his proclamation, Sage spent a fortune in legal fees but never had to pay Laidlaw a penny. Bitter and in pain, Laidlaw spent the rest of his life in the Home for the Incurables.

  Russell Sage died in 1906 and left all his money to his wife, Margaret Olivia Slocum Sage. She wasted no time immersing herself in something he had forbidden throughout their marriage: using their money to help others. She donated liberally to many educational, charitable, and social causes, establishing the Russell Sage Foundation in 1907 and Russell Sage College in 1916. Both are still around today, and the name of the skinflint who never wanted to part with a dollar is now hugely associated with philanthropy and education.

  Mary told Harper about the letter that Mrs. Norcross had shown her. He respected her wishes and didn’t put it in his piece about the Russell Sage bombing. In the long run, it didn’t matter. Since the Sage/Laidlaw case dragged on for years and Harper had promised not to publish until it was over, people soon lost interest. They had moved on to other news cycles.

  Mary and Harper’s marriage started off well. They seemed to have the mutual respect for each other that is necessary in such unions. After all her joking, it turned out Mary didn’t mind having two first names after all, as long as the second one was Lloyd.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This is a work of historical fiction, and though fiction looms large in the storytelling, there are many real people involved and real facts of actual events that happened. Let’s start with the most obvious and easily researched.

  Theodore Roosevelt was president of the police commission in New York City for two years starting in May of 1895. He did try to clean up the department and fired Inspector Thomas Byrnes and Captain Alexander “Clubber” Williams. His job was eliminated after two years because the politicians were afraid he would eventually get to them. Williams did make that infamous statement about the Tenderloin District and Byrnes did make that statement about arresting Jack the Ripper within thirty-six hours if he ever dared to come to New York City.

  Carrie Brown, or “Old Shakespeare,” was murdered at the East River Hotel very much in the style of Jack the Ripper. Ameer Ben Ali became an easy target of Inspector Byrnes and was arrested within his time frame and eventually convicted of the crime on flimsy and trumped-up evidence. He was freed in the early 1900s and went back to Algeria.

  Henry L. Norcross did bomb Russell Sage’s Wall Street office and every detail of that bombing, down to the unfortunate Benjamin Norton, who wound up in the street with his typewriter on his face, is true. Inspector Byrnes did bring Norcross’s head to Russell Sage’s house for identification purposes. Norcross did leave two different letters for his parents. It is considered to be the first suicide bombing in the United States.

  William Laidlaw sued Russell Sage and won several judgments against him but in the long run gave up as Sage kept appealing. Joseph Hodges Choate was Laidlaw’s lawyer until he had to leave to argue a case before the Supreme Court.

  Coney Island actually had a booth called Kill the Coon along with segregated bathhouses for blacks and whites. There was an area called the Gut filled with prostitutes, gambling, and honky-tonks. Austin Corbin was the owner of the Oriental and Manhattan Beach Hotels and also the owner of the Long Island Rail Road. A bigot and rabid anti-Semite, he really did ask the question, “If America is a free country, why can’t we be free of the Jews?” Along those lines, the Immigration Restriction League was a real organization established by three Harvard grads.

  The Elephantine Colossus, better known as the Elephant Hotel, was designed by James Lafferty and burned down in 1896. If I had invented it, people wouldn’t believe it.

  The Johnstown Flood was a real event and Andrew Carnegie was a prominent member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, which did alter the dam that caused the flood. George Rutter was a real person who was shot by Pinkertons during the Homestead Steel Strike.

  From the day of the Norcross bombing until a year later when he died, Jay Gould lived in fear of being the next victim. He rarely went out and when he did, he wore disguises.

  Possibly more important, though, signs like HIRING. DOGS AND IRISH NEED NOT APPLY were sadly commonplace, as was also the prejudice against Italians, Jews, Arabs, and African-Americans. The new immigrants were blamed for the country’s problems when the reasons for those problems ran much deeper.

  As the famous saying goes, “If we don’t learn from history, we’re bound to repeat it.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My editor, Nate Roberson, has been extremely helpful with his notes and positive attitude. It’s very important to have an editorial champion who believes in you and your work. Nate more than fits that bill, and I’m forever grateful for him.

  I’d like to thank my publicist, Christine Johnson, and my marketing managers, Alaina Wagner and Kathleen Quinlan. It’s one thing to write a book, and it’s another to make people aware of it. I thank them for their monumental efforts on my behalf.

  My wonderful agent, Paul Fedorko, has been with me since I first started writing novels, and he is a dream agent in every aspect of that job. Paul’s assistant, Chloe Rabinowitz, has also been very helpful.

  I have written before about the incredible support I get from my wife, Fran, my son, Joshua, and my daughter, Erin. They mean the world to me, and they show it every day.

  My good friend David Garber has once again provided a great sounding board for my ideas, and his input is greatly appreciated.

  I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank Michael and Helen Levy, Bob and Randy Myer, Stan Finkelberg, Charley and Nikki Garrett, and Lois Feller. All of them read an early version of this book and were extremely encouraging with their responses.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  LAWRENCE H. LEVY is a highly regarded film and TV writer who is a Writers
Guild Award winner and a two-time Emmy nominee. He has written for various hit TV shows, such as Family Ties, Saved by the Bell, Seventh Heaven, Roseanne, and Seinfield. Last Stop in Brooklyn is his third novel in the Mary Handley Mystery series.

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