Kalorama Shakedown (A Harry Reese Mystery)

by Robert Bruce Stewart

  “How are things going, Mr. Reese?”

  “I’ve located one of the more valuable items.”

  “You have?” He contorted his face into something I suspect was meant to be a smile, but it would be charitable to call it that. It was the sort of smile you might come up with when a visiting relative suggests extending her visit.

  “Well, I believe I have. Have you had any trouble with burglars? Seems to be an epidemic here.”

  “Fortunately, no,” he said. “Not that I have anything particularly valuable. And no jewelry—I’m a bachelor.”

  “I’ve known a few bachelors with some pretty fancy jewelry.”

  “Not my taste.”

  I was about to spring Kalorama on him when he excused himself rather clumsily and went off to another room. It was clear I wouldn’t be learning anything further at Mrs. Spinks’ that afternoon. Another avenue of pursuit was in order and I had something in mind. I went off to take leave of the countess and our hostess and found them both in the entrance hall, discussing the brass work. After I said good-bye to Mrs. Spinks, the countess announced she would accompany me out as she was in need of some air. When I closed the door behind us, she turned to me.

  “I neglected to tell you earlier, Harry. I found out what Emmie’s purpose was in coming here.”

  “Did she tell you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose there’s a chance she isn’t misleading you. What did she say?”

  “She wishes to write my biography.”

  “Well, that does have the ring of truth to it. She aspires to be a writer.”

  “What has she written?”

  “Not a lot. She’s easily distracted.”

  “Yes, I thought as much. Good.”

  I had the distinct feeling that whatever the countess felt was good about it wouldn’t be my idea of good. But she refused to elaborate. She was already at the door when she called after me.

  “Oh, there’s something else I forgot to mention. Plan on coming to the embassy tomorrow evening. You and Emmie both. There’s a fancy-dress ball. I’ll send some costumes around to the hotel for you.”

  “Sounds entertaining,” I said. “Might I ask why you’re taking such a keen interest in Mrs. Spinks’ furnishings?”

  “Just a lark. Probably nothing will come of it.”

  Then I went off to see Julius Chappelle. The erstwhile Cowardly Lion was in, but the girl returned with the news that he was unavailable.

  “Tell him if he won’t see me, I’ll send in the winged monkeys.”

  She stared at me for a moment, but then delivered my message. Presently, I was led in and Chappelle greeted me with a big smile.

  “The truth has been revealed,” he said. “Was it the golden cap?”

  “I only learned of its meaning after consulting the sacred text. So you’re a friend of the Easterly family?”

  “It’s a diverting household.”

  “Yes, decidedly. But how did you become acquainted?”

  “I could tell you it was purely through my business. I supplied their cook.”

  “You could tell me that, but I wouldn’t be very likely to believe it.”

  “No, I imagine it’s too late for that,” he agreed. “If I do confide in you, and you agree it has nothing to do with the matter that is your primary concern, can I depend on your discretion?”

  “Discretion is an essential part of my business.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “I assume by now you have a pretty clear understanding of the nature of Easterly’s business?”

  “He told me himself. Much the same as Mrs. Spinks’, I gather.”

  “Yes, exactly. And, much the same as many others’ here.”

  “Including yourself?”

  “Yes, including myself.”

  “Are the three of you partners?”

  “Nothing so formal. But our businesses complement one another.”

  “What exactly is your business?”

  “Mostly, just as it seems. I place domestic help.”

  “And the rest of it? You have your people spy on the people they serve?”

  “I don’t need to encourage anyone to spy. That’s a servant’s prerogative, and one of their few entertainments. But I do suggest things they might pay particular attention to. Say, conversations on amendments to the tariff schedules.”

  “And these people, fresh up from the fields as you said, are capable of comprehending tariff schedules?”

  “Perhaps not. But don’t underestimate the capabilities of someone from the fields. They are masters of deception, by necessity. And most are literate, or partly so. After a few years, they begin to pick things up.”

  “Was Richard Cole in this group?”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Is that why he lost his job? He was found out?”

  “Perhaps. I had thought it was simply the result of Lacy casting doubt on him. He became a convenient scapegoat. But from what you related this morning, about General Sachs mentioning my name, I feel it may be he found out Cole was looking over his shoulder.”

  “But why is he so hard to locate?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know.”

  “You honestly have no idea where he is?”

  “No, I honestly don’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to help you find him.”

  “I’d be surprised if you were. What can you tell me about Kalorama?”

  “I’m not a party to that.”

  “But Easterly and Mrs. Spinks are.”

  “You need to discuss that with them. I give you my word, I have nothing to do with it. Or with any burglaries, or alleged burglaries.”

  “How can I be sure that’s true?”

  “You can’t be sure. But you have my word.”

  I made to leave, but before he opened the door I stopped him.

  “Whatever your relationship with the others, I assume you have their ears.”

  “Is there a message?”

  “Just that I won’t be leaving town until I get to the bottom of this.”

  “And if the claims are withdrawn, and the money returned? Will that satisfy you?”

  “It might satisfy the insurers. But it would leave me out in the cold, unless I can explain how I brought about the withdrawal of the claims. And to do that, I’ll need to expose the fraud.”

  “I see. What is needed is a resolution that will satisfy all parties. I’ll deliver your message and advise that they avail themselves of your offer to negotiate.”

  We shook hands and I left him. I hadn’t realized I’d offered to negotiate, but I couldn’t see any harm in it.

  15

  Emmie was in the room reading when I arrived back at the hotel.

  “How did you find Mistress Nell?” I asked.

  “Oh, fine. But for a play about a courtesan it left too much to the imagination.”

  “You found your imagination wanting?”

  “Hardly that. Have you learned anything about Kalorama?”

  “Kalorama is, or was, a large estate. To the northwest of Dupont Circle.”

  “That’s where we went riding.”

  “The countess mentioned that. She said there isn’t much to see of the estate now.”

  “But what does it have to do with the insurance claims?”

  “I think these men were trying to raise money in order to speculate on real estate in the area of this Kalorama.”

  “Have you confronted them?”

  “Not directly. I don’t really have anything to confront them with. I need to get some specifics, dates and lot numbers. Once I can show a chain of events, I think they’ll become agreeable about withdrawing the claims.”

  “And you can get your ten percent?”

  “Yes, I hope so.”

  “If you can get all three to return the money, it would be more than $2,000, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, but let’s not go spending it yet. To get them to cooperate, I’ll need to make sure the insurers go a
long with it too.”

  “They always seem to.”

  “Yes, but they aren’t going to like the idea of people forming syndicates to defraud them. These fellows were using them as banks, and being pretty obvious about it. They might want to make an example of someone.”

  “Do we have time to eat supper here?”

  “Why not?”

  “The man in Georgetown said six o’clock.”

  “He said he’d be there from six o’clock. There’s no reason to appear too eager. Does this mean you’re coming with me?”

  “I’m certainly not going to wait here.”

  “All right, but tonight we steer clear of the canal.”

  “That was hardly my fault.”

  “If you hadn’t been there, the evening would have been decidedly more tranquil.”

  “You wouldn’t even have noticed that man in the canal. He would have drowned.”

  “I wouldn’t have known he existed, and been the better for it. These things happen, Emmie. Every night of the year a certain number of drunks are going to stumble into a certain number of canals. It’s been happening since the flood. Besides, if that cop hadn’t arrived, you would have bludgeoned him to death anyway.”

  “I only wanted to put the fear of God into him.”

  “Well, let’s not save any souls this evening.”

  “All right, Harry. You made your point. There’s nothing gained by harping on it,” she said. “Of course, if we hadn’t encountered the drunk in the canal, we wouldn’t have met the watchman who is going to find us Richard Cole.”

  “The watchman who might find us Richard Cole. I’m beginning to wonder if Richard Cole exists at all.”

  When we went down to dinner, I asked Emmie about Elizabeth’s change of mood.

  “She says she’s making plans, but was unwilling to reveal anything further.”

  “Plans to follow this Cox fellow to Bangkok?”

  “I thought about that, but I can’t see how even Elizabeth could arrange that.”

  “Koestler must have given her a tidy sum for marrying off his daughter.”

  “She spent most of that in France. Elizabeth enjoys shopping,” she said. “No, I don’t think she has fortune enough to travel halfway across the world and set up a household in a strange land.”

  “I suppose it’s possible it has nothing to do with Cox.”

  “Very possible. But whatever it is, it involves leaving Washington.”

  “She’s not happy with the arrangements at the German Embassy?”

  “No. She was given a tiny cell in the garret. And the countess so mistrusts her she confides nothing.”

  “She was expecting to be taken into her confidence?”

  “Oh, yes. She wanted to write her biography.”

  “Honestly? I heard that was your plan.”

  “Apparently we were thinking along similar lines. But how did you know? Have you been seeing the countess?”

  “Well, our paths crossed this afternoon.”

  “Did they?”

  “Yes. At Mrs. Spinks’ literary salon.”

  “What was the topic of conversation today?”

  “Tolstoy.”

  “What are your thoughts on Tolstoy, Harry?”

  “No complaints. Did I mention that the countess invited us to the embassy tomorrow evening? To a fancy-dress ball.”

  “I wonder why she didn’t mention it to me?”

  “Can’t say. She’s sending costumes. And she told me something else.”

  “What was that?”

  “She was being a little cryptic, but she seemed to imply that you had gotten the better of her in some way. Any idea what she meant?”

  “Not the slightest. Is that all there was to it?”

  “I believe she may be cooking up some sort of rematch.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you had better be on your toes, Emmie.”

  “Oh, I’m always on my toes. And you had better heed your own advice, Harry.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You told that man last evening that you had money to give to Richard Cole. Now we’re going to a rendezvous with a man neither of us have met in a city we don’t know, and it’s been arranged by a man we have no reason to trust. A man who thinks we have some sum of money to dispense and has had a full day to arrange something untoward.”

  “You paint a grim picture, Emmie.”

  “Yes, I’ve even frightened myself. Still, it’s better than spending the evening in a hotel room.”

  We arrived at the watchman’s shed just after seven. It was a warmish winter evening and misting.

  “There you are.” He leaned out the door and whistled.

  “Yes, here we are. Did you find him?”

  “I found him. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet you.”

  Just then a colored boy of about ten showed up.

  “The boy will take you to Cole.”

  “All right. Is he nearby?”

  “Not before I get the five dollars.”

  “Why should I pay until I see Cole?”

  “How do I know you’d come back to pay me?”

  I paid him the five dollars and the boy led us a couple blocks west to a car stop. We got in a car going north to Tenallytown and within a mile the landscape became almost rural. A little while after that, we got off and he led us to the west a block or two. Then we wove back and forth through a dimly lit neighborhood, skirting the university, and finally arrived at a long set of steep stairs. We followed him down these to M Street. By my reckoning, we were about four blocks from where we caught the car a half hour before. There was a car barn nearby, and quite a few saloons. He picked the meanest-looking one, which bore no sign at all, and led us inside.

  I’d taken Emmie in some rough barrooms before—a wharf-side tavern in Newport, a Canal Street concert saloon in Buffalo, and a couple Raines Law hotels in Williamsburg—so we had some idea what to expect. Still, it’s always a little disconcerting when you enter a room and the conversations all end abruptly. Particularly when you’re as over-dressed for the occasion as we were. It was a shadowy place, with only a couple gas jets providing illumination—a wise choice on the part of the management, since what could be seen of the room didn’t invite further inspection. There were a few other women there, but I deduced from their comments that they weren’t feeling very comradely toward Emmie. The crowd numbered less than a dozen, so I took the easy way of defusing the situation. I stood a round for the house. From then on, the gibes aimed our way were whispered. In the meantime, the boy had left us. I was beginning to feel the fool when several minutes later a colored fellow of about thirty-five came in and approached me.

  “Are you the man looking for Richard Cole?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Cole.”

  We took a little booth that was curtained off from the rest of the room.

  “My name’s Reese,” I told him. “I’m looking into some burglaries. Including the one at General Sachs’ home.”

  He smiled, but just nodded. “Did you bring my money?”

  “Yes, how much are you owed?”

  “Oh, quite a lot, I’d say.”

  “By whom? I mean, are we talking about the same transaction?”

  “What transaction are you talking about?”

  “Well, of course you were told you’d be taken care of.”

  “No, no one ever promised me that.”

  “But didn’t you come here expecting that someone was delivering money owed to you?”

  “Owed to me by who?”

  “Let me put it this way, you feel you are owed something. Is that correct?”

  “Most definitely. Don’t you? And the lady?”

  “He’s right, Harry.”

  “He’s right about what?”

  “Well, don’t we all feel there are debts owed us that will never be repaid?”

  “Are we having a philosophical discussion here?” I add
ressed this to the two of them, but neither answered.

  “Mr. Cole,” Emmie said. “My husband was trying to be clever. He suspects that there was no burglary at the Sachses’ home. That a claim was made on an insurance policy simply to raise money for some other purpose. Perhaps to invest in real estate.”

  “What business is it of his?”

  “If the money is returned to the insurance company, he will receive a fee.”

  “Why did he tell the man he had money for me?”

  “He thought perhaps you’d been offered money to make yourself inaccessible, and by pretending to be delivering the money, he could induce you to meet with him.”

  “If no one had promised you money, why did you come this evening?” I asked.

  “What did it matter if I thought someone owed me money? What mattered was what you thought. You see, if you thought you owed me money, I was willing to take your word for it.”

  “So no one offered you money in exchange for staying out of sight?”

  “No, but I was told to look out. That that police sergeant was looking to blame me.”

  “Do you think there was a burglary?” Emmie asked.

  “If there was, they sure were quiet about it. But what’s it matter to me?”

  “If you could have your job back at the Sachses’, would you want it?” I asked.

  “Of course I would. I’ve been doing drudge work.”

  “Suppose I make a deal with them. They give back the money to the insurance company and give you your job back.”

  “If?”

  “If I can prove there was no burglary.”

  “If I help you, they ain’t likely to give me my job back.”

  “They don’t need to know. I’ll have plenty besides anything you tell me.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “The old man was talking to some people about buying land.”

  “Did Kalorama come up?” I asked.

  “Yes, it was up that way.”

  “Do you know what piece of land exactly?”

  “No. But I heard Mr. Easterly… you know him?”

  “Yes, what did he say?”

  “He wanted to buy some land but needed more money. So he asked if the general would like to come in with him. He said he would. In that case, Mr. Easterly said, the general would need to raise $10,000.”