by Simon Swift
"Yes, it probably would," I interrupted to save her the pain. "What I need is a good description and a few details, it won't take a minute." I opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh pad of paper and a pencil.
"George works very hard,” she said slowly, avoiding my gaze. "He has a good job down in Battery Park...taking people over on the ferry."
"The Staten Island Ferry?"
"No, to see the statue. He's hoping to get lessons to captain the vessel, that's what his business meeting is all about. He would make a great captain."
"I'm sure he would. And a description."
"Yes, of course. He's thirty-eight years old, a little over six feet tall with short, blond hair. His eyes are blue and he has lovely thick eyebrows, a shade darker than his hair colour. He is very softly spoken and very gentle, a true gentleman which I am sure you are aware, Mr. Black, makes him very attractive to the ladies."
I smiled and gently shook my head.
"Tomorrow, he will be wearing his best navy blue suit with a red handkerchief in his breast pocket. He will be meeting the shipping committee for a meal at a creperie in Chelsea and then going on for a drink at the Dragon Bar in Chinatown. I overheard him arrange it on the telephone. I do not know when to expect him home. He has told me not to wait up."
I took it all down and put the pad away. "That should be all I need Claudia. The job shouldn't be too difficult, but if you think of anything else that may help. It's probably better for you if I don't call you so why don't you call back here in a couple of days and I'll give you a progress report."
"You are very kind, you really are.”
She looked a little sad, but her voice held firm, "Please Mr. Black, this means a lot to me. Please take the job personally and take it seriously. To me this really is a big deal."
Those were the last words she said with her slow motion mouth before she leaned over the desk, kissed me softly on the cheek and left the office. All of a sudden the sign looked shiny again.
It was the start of something big...
Chapter Two – Watching
There is no greater evocative symbol of America than the cherished lady. Raising the torch of liberty with one hand and clutching a stone tablet in the other. She has become an icon of everything that is American, a colossal figure standing proudly over the New York Harbor. The fact that she was sculpted, designed and mainly financed by Frenchmen and not Americans is not the biggest surprise to first time visitors; it is the realization that this fantastic piece of architecture is not the huge figure they expect it to be. At only 151 feet one inch tall from base to torch, The Statue of Liberty is actually disappointingly small.
The hundreds of people queuing inside Castle Clinton, for tickets to take them across the Liberty Island Ferry, were obviously not too disappointed. I was sitting on a rather creaky wooden bench around the edge of the old fort, chewing on a pastrami-on-rye, watching the hordes handing over their cash excitedly, awaiting a dalliance with the old girl. The sun was shining warmly and the water was looking calm.
The time was now just after midday and the lunchtime rush was beginning. George Ferriby had just finished his morning shift on the ferry and was heading out of Battery Park towards the Financial District. I finished off my sandwich and stood up to follow him.
I had started the surveillance a little after seven o clock the same morning, waiting patiently outside the small house on East 5th Street until George appeared. He was dressed casually in black slacks, polished boots and a large overcoat. Under the coat, the collar of his Liberty Island blazer poked out and he kept a pair of thick gloves in the pockets, which he wore for a while and then returned.
We walked west along 5th Street until it hit Bowery and then headed due south, through Little Italy, Chinatown and into the Financial district. George walked briskly without looking around him; I followed on the other side of the street keeping one hundred yards apart. It took thirty minutes to arrive at Battery Park. A quick coffee and muffin, at a diner across from the fort, and George went to work, ferrying people by the hundreds across to Liberty Island. He worked diligently and quietly for the next four hours barely uttering another word, stopping only to smile at the pretty ladies and take photographs if asked.
Ava Jameson had been more than a little surprised to see me at six thirty, when she unlocked the office door and hung up her coat and hat.
"Let me pour you a coffee and then come and give me a big hug," I said, and smiled at her, my arms open wide.
She turned in surprise, flashed me a lovely smile and then rushed into my arms, hugging me warmly. "Oh Errol, you're back. I've missed you. Did you have a good time?" she asked, wriggling free and then putting a hand on my cheek.
"It was a nice break. I'm glad to be back but missing it already. Look at you princess you look fantastic."
Ava blushed and shrugged her shoulders, enjoying the compliment.
She had been secretary for the Black & Wentz Detective Agency for three years now. She had always been pretty, but when she first joined us was nothing more than a girl; twenty-two years of age, painfully shy but a genius at running an office. Since then she had matured immensely, her confidence had grown and her beauty had flourished. No longer did she wear conservative, plain sweaters and long, over the knee skirts, but attractive, figure showing attire that not only looked classy and sexy, but very adult. Now, she was truly a woman, but would always be my girl.
She was tall, nearly six foot, with long, straight legs and a firm backside that she always claimed was too big. Her hair was shoulder length, dark brown and wavy. Although not classically beautiful, her face was pretty; she had big, green eyes that were always quite heavily made up with dark eyeliner, a medium-sized, well-shaped nose and soft-boned cheeks. Her mouth was wide with thin lips, which she painted soft pastel colours.
"I'm afraid business is still very slow," she sighed. "Hermeez said it's going to have to pick up soon or we'll all be out of jobs."
"Well my little sweetheart, it already has. Last night a Miss Claudia, surname unknown, came in and hired me. It's nothing big, just a simple surveillance detail, although she pays well and she pays cash." I handed over the hundred dollars as well as a fresh cup of coffee.
Ava's eyes widened as she took the money. She took a small sip of her coffee and put the cash away in her log book. "I hope you've not taken to mugging rich, old ladies whilst you've been away," she said, and sat down smiling.
"She's not old," I said. "And I don't get the impression that she's rich either. In fact she seemed a little mysterious." I shrugged. "Who cares, if she pays promptly she can be as damn mysterious as she likes. I've written down the details on the pad, which is in the tray."
I finished off my coffee, leaned over Ava and gave her a little peck on the cheek. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to love you and leave you. Tell Hermeez that I said hello and I hope to see him for a drink a little later in the day."
"Oh, Errol, before you rush off. Dyke has been calling every day since you left. He wouldn't leave a message, not even with Hermeez, but he looked like he might be in trouble."
"You told him I was away?"
"I simply told him that you were unavailable and that I would pass on the message."
"Okay, I'll deal with it."
Ava frowned and then said, "Did Margaret have a good time? I bet she's lovely and tanned."
She said it coolly then immediately looked like she wished she hadn't. "I'm sorry, Errol, you don't have to answer that. Look I'm just so pleased that you're back."
"Me too, sweetheart. Look, I gotta go."
"And Errol, keep in touch. I haven't seen you for three weeks."
I had arrived at the Ferriby household just in time to catch a glimpse of Claudia kiss George on the doorstep and then close the door. I had decided that it would be a better idea to start the job a little earlier than she had suggested. It would not only give me a good chance to study the subject better, but maybe also allay any nagging doubts about the case in
general. Claudia had left a surprisingly indelible mark on me. She had given me almost nothing to go on, but left an unmistaken sense of mystique. I knew she wasn't telling me everything, that things ran a lot deeper than what she was letting on. They always did. But I was prepared to play it her way and not probe too deep.
I stood on the sidewalk and gazed along the street, at the tall buildings, the lary neon signs, the people all shuffling along aimlessly. George Ferriby headed north up Broadway, took a left turning onto Liberty Street and another left onto Greenwich Street. We were in the heart of the financial district, a place teeming with suited professionals all carrying an umbrella in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Billions of dollars of business was done every day of the year in this relatively small area.
Ferriby ducked into a restaurant on the corner. I followed him in a minute later, handed my coat and hat to the attendant and waited to be seated. The place was small and cosy; it was an open room with several alcoves and large pot plants to give privacy. The lighting was dimmed and soft, jazz music gave a relaxing background. At the far end there was a bar, the rest of the room was filled with small dining tables, most of which were full.
I managed to get a table three away from Ferriby, who was sitting across from a beautiful, redhead. She was drinking red wine and her face was smiling even though her eyes were not. I could not catch what they were saying to each other, but she laughed at his every word. Whereas Ferriby was obviously enjoying displaying his immense humorous talents I got a feeling the lady was a little less genuine, playing along a little.
I too ordered a carafe of red wine, and observed my subject as inconspicuously as possible. They both had soup and a roll, followed by a Caesar salad, but were not really interested in the food. Ferriby enjoyed making the lady laugh, and she never tired of performing to order. Thirty minutes into the rendezvous the redhead put a hand on Ferriby's, very tenderly and he held it in his own before kissing it softly. They then finished their wine, looked around the restaurant and stood. Their lips only met briefly and the lady left, leaving Ferriby to sit on his own for another five minutes before he too left.
I followed him back to the ferry and he simply got back on with his work. His shift would go on for another four hours, I had earlier checked at the office, which was always advertising for ship hand vacancies.
Back at the restaurant, the bartender was very forthcoming.
"Georgy Ferriby, sure I remember. He comes here most days." He looked at his watch and pulled a face as if contemplating nuclear physics. "Usually about lunchtime, maybe between twelve and one."
"And the lady?"
The bartender smiled and tapped his nose with his right index finger. "Wasn't she something?" He whistled through his teeth and gave me a filthy smile. "What I could do with a lady like that."
"Do you know what she's called?" I asked. "Is she Ferriby's wife?"
The bartender found that thought funny. He laughed out loud and shook his head. "Oh no, Georgy's not married, my friend. I don't think he's what you would call the marrying type. No, he's too fond of the ladies. He must have brought, oh maybe four, five different girls here over the last year. No, that fine figure of fresh meat wasn't his wife, although I'd gladly make her mine I don't mind telling you."
I nodded as enthusiastically as I could as the bartender guffawed at his own inanity. In spite of his boorishness he was proving a useful character witness and it would be careless to alienate him just yet.
"How long has George worked down on the ferries?" I asked.
He shrugged. "As far as I know he's only helping out a friend. You gotta appreciate we're not best buddies or anythings. I mean I do hear the odd bit here and there but..." The pause was long enough for me to hand over another five bucks, which was grabbed lightening fast and shoved down the front of the big man's apron.
"Well," he said and moved his head closer to mine, which was already close enough although a well skilled driver could manoeurve the Staten Island Ferry between us. "Well, I heard that Georgy is into a bit of buying and selling, you know what I mean?"
"Nope. Care to elaborate."
"I don't want to say anything, but…" he looked from side to side, "diamonds is what I hear. Brings 'em in from the Continent. Now it sure has been nice talking to you Mr...Mr. whatever your name is, but I got some things I should be doing."
I tipped my hat and left the restaurant.
Whatever George Ferriby was in to was none of my damn business and the more I heard about it the less I wanted it to become my business. The only part I was interested in was the part I was being so handsomely paid to be interested in. In that respect it was looking more and more like sweet Claudia was going to be sadly proven correct. I doubted the assignment would last the week. Tonight would be the meal, where I already had a good idea just who he would be dining with. I would take my camera, get proof of the infidelity and leave it to them. That was the theory, but like all good theories it was full of holes.
Joe's Diner had once been described as the sleaziest joint in the Bronx. That was unfair there were more seedy diners in the Bronx than Chinamen in Peking, and Joe's was by no means the worst. Located only five minutes walk from my own apartment and only a couple of miles from the Yankee's Stadium in the Belmont neighborhood, the small, dingy establishment fails to impress primarily because of its name. The word 'diner' in the title of a place gives the presumptuous idea that beautiful plates of food will be served there; of fresh fruit and salads, of gateaux’s and pastries. None of which are on offer at Joe's. Apart from whatever Joe feels like whipping up on any given day, dishes ranging as wide as pastrami sandwiches to Russian Goulash, the diner is a drinking den. A place where locals gather on an evening to drink, play cards and drink some more. The lighting is poor, the tables are old and battered and the bar has several gunshot marks embedded in it. In short, the place has character and is never short of a supporting cast of them drinking from dusk till dawn sitting on its wobbly barstools.
It was on one of those wobbly barstools that I was now sitting. It just so happened Joe was a good friend of mine. He not only provided the worst fare in the district, but somehow managed to accumulate invaluable information on many of his clientele. This place was home to me. It was filthy, smelly, dingy and full of low-lifes. It was my bread and butter. If I had a dime for every case that had been solved thanks to a conversation in Joe's, I'd be a rich man.
"Should I ask you if you had a good time wherever it is that you been?" asked Joe, "or shall I just bring you a cold beer and mind my own goddamn business?"
"Better stick to the beer old buddy."
Joe smiled and pulled out a couple of cold bottles from the refrigerator. He twisted off the caps and wiped the necks down on his apron before handing one over and then taking a long drink from the other. "That's good," he said and patted me on the back. "Good to see you again Errol, you look well."
"Cheers," I said. "You look like you could do with a holiday."
Joe shook his head and took another drink of the beer, finishing the bottle. He was a large man, maybe 250 pounds with a face that you could lose your wallet in. What little hair he had left was a sandy colour, the same as his eyes. Years of drinking and fine living had made the veins split on his large nose making it redder than a ripened beetroot and his smile was littered with blackened teeth. Although he had a reputation as being a bit of a slob, Joe was the opposite he just had the misfortune of turning every fine piece of cloth into a rag. His clothes were always clean and well pressed but for some reason they just looked scruffy on him. It was said he could get a suit cut at the Savoy Guild and still come out looking like he was frightening the birds for a living.
"Who's the punk you brought in with you Eezy?" asked my friend nodding behind me.
I took a look over my shoulder where a baby-faced youth, dressed in a pin-striped suit was nursing a cola. He looked away the instant I clocked him, pretending to take an interest in a newspaper.
"I'm
not sure," I replied. "He's been with me most of the day. It's nothing to worry about."
"I can make sure he doesn't follow you back out if you like. It's not a problem."
"No thanks Joe, I think I'll leave him there a while longer. See if he gives anything away. Thanks anyway. You could bring me the telephone over here if you don't mind and another of those cold beers."
Joe nodded and went to get the telephone.
Ava answered on the first ring.
"Hello sweetheart, how are you getting on?"
"Errol, it's so nice to hear your voice again so soon. I'm actually getting on really well. I've just this minute got back in the office from a wonderful luncheon down at The Warldorf”
"Hell, I must be paying you well.”
"I didn't spend a dime and before you make a jibe I was dining with a lady. Your lady in fact."
"The future Mrs. Ferriby?"
"The very same and you're right she's not old, although she does appear to be rich. The bill came to over my whole week’s salary. I felt a little bit guilty actually Errol, I had just spent most of the morning investigating her and she was so nice, I can see why you like her."
"I don't recall saying that I like her."
"Maybe not, but I can tell that you do, and you should. She's lovely."
"Lovely, eh? Tell me more about your digging."
"Well, the house she lives at in the East Village..."
"Yes."
"According to the records, she doesn't live there. That address has been unoccupied for three months. The last owner packed up and left for Alabama in February. I checked with the registry and the real estate agents, the property is on the market right now."
"Anything on the straying would-be husband?"
"Only that he hasn't worked on the ferry for long, a couple of weeks in fact. And he isn't meeting anybody from the company tonight either. Not officially anyhows."