The Heavenly Fugitive

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Nope, it’s what I want. It gives me more authority to do what I must to clean up these scumbags from our fine city.”

  Phil listened attentively while Lee spoke, imagining himself someday helping to bring criminals to justice, and finally he said, “Well, congratulations on your promotion, Lee.”

  “I didn’t bring you up here to congratulate me. I want to offer you a job.”

  Phil blinked with surprise. “A job! You mean here in your office?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But I don’t know anything about the law—not yet anyway. I want to go to law school, so I’m saving up money. One day I’ll get there.”

  “I know all about that. Your grandmother told me.” Lee leaned forward over the desk, his dark eyes intent. There was a burning intensity about the man that startled Phil. “Look, let me lay it all out on the front porch for you, Phil. I want you to come into my office. You can’t actually be a full-fledged special agent yet—not without some legal training first—but for now you can be an intern, assisting me and learning about law enforcement at the same time. You’ll go to law school and work for me as you can fit it in.”

  “But I don’t have the money to go to law school.”

  “I’ve arranged for a full scholarship for you, Phil. I know a few people and have pulled some strings on your behalf.”

  Phil sat there stunned by this news. “I can go to law school and work here at the same time?”

  “Sure, and I guarantee you, buddy, you’ll learn a lot more about the law working with me in this office than you will in law school.” He laughed abruptly. “You might even get to meet some of the big crime bosses. If you play your cards right, you might even have them take a shot at you.”

  “Lee, I don’t see how I could go to law school and work for you at the same time.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy, but I think it’ll be a good thing for you. You’ll get your law degree eventually, and I’m hoping that I’ll be around for a while, and I’m going to need somebody I can trust. It’s going to be a rough road, and it’s going to be bloody down the way. I’ll put that to you right now.”

  Phil stared at Novak and suddenly knew that this was what he wanted to do. “All right. Let me talk to Amelia and write to my parents.”

  “No, I can’t wait for that. I need an answer immediately. If you can’t make up your mind like that, I can’t use you.”

  Phil stared at Novak and then suddenly grinned. “All right. Yes, I’ll take it!”

  Novak rose from his chair and put out his hand. His grip was hard and firm, and he clapped Phil on the back. “All right. That’s what I wanted to hear. Now you’re playing in the big leagues, boy. The first thing we do is get you a gun.”

  Phil’s eyes grew large. “A gun! Who am I going to shoot?”

  “Anybody that’s shooting at you. Come on. Call your boss and quit that job of yours, and we’ll go over to the law school tomorrow.”

  ****

  Phil Winslow’s life seemed caught up in a whirlwind. He found himself running from early in the morning until midnight or even later. He enrolled in law school, and although the courses did not start till the fall, he had already bought all his books, met his advisor, and started studying for classes that would come.

  As for Lee Novak, he was a whirlwind himself! Phil felt as if he’d been thrown into a swift river and was being carried along with the current. All day long Novak poured information into him, both verbally and in mountains of files. Phil had always had an excellent memory, but the long hours and the mass of materials immersed him so that he hardly knew his name.

  After two weeks of this, Novak looked at his protégé, noting the red-rimmed eyes and the dark shadows. He suddenly said roughly, “Get out of here, Phil.”

  Phil, who was going through a stack of files, turned and blinked with surprise. “What do you mean, Lee?”

  “I mean you’re like a zombie. Go take two days off.”

  “What’ll I do?”

  “Go sleep beside a river. Go fishing. Get yourself a girlfriend and go do the Charleston.”

  Phil could scarcely credit this. “But there’s so much to do, Lee.”

  “It’ll be here when you get back. Now, that’s an order. Go relax and come back fresh Thursday morning. Then I’ll wear you down again.”

  ****

  Phil found it difficult to slow down. His mind was racing with all the facts and files Lee had poured into him. The first day of his minivacation he simply went out to the stables where he used to work. His former boss, Luke DeSalvo, was happy to see him and gladly let him borrow a horse to go riding over the hills. Back in his apartment, he wrote a long letter to his parents in Africa and slept a full eight hours that night, which was unusual for him.

  The second day he got up and washed and polished his car, then set out for a drive. He explored some parts of the city he had never seen and at noon went to visit his grandmother. She was glad to see him, but he noticed that she was very weak. It saddened him, and when he saw how quickly she tired of talking, he left, saying, “I’ll be back soon, Grandmother.”

  “Good-bye, Phillip. Thanks for coming to see me.” Her voice as well as her grasp was weak, and as Phil drove away, he felt uncertain. She looks so small and fragile. I wish Mom and Dad were here to take care of her.

  He stopped by to see Amelia late in the afternoon, but she wasn’t home. So he headed to the Morino estate, where the guard told him he’d find Rosa at the stables. When he parked his Hupmobile and got out, he stopped still, for Rosa was about to mount Boadicea. He moved forward hesitantly. Their last meeting had not been happy, but he felt he needed to say more to her. He approached her and called out, “Rosa, wait a minute!”

  Rosa turned and a mixture of surprise and apprehension crossed her face. “Hello, Phil,” she said. Her voice was tight, and Phil knew she still felt bad about their last meeting. He was encouraged, however, that she didn’t move away but sat quietly astride her horse, facing him.

  “Is it all right if I get a horse and ride with you?” he asked.

  “That’d be fine.”

  Phil chose the big bay that carried his weight well, and soon the two of them rode out across the Morino estate as the sun was going down. Only birdsong and the rustling of leaves broke the silence between them. It was a peaceful evening, but Phil found conversation hard going. He tried to get Rosa to speak about what she was doing, but she answered only in brief replies.

  Finally he said, “I’ve got a new job, Rosa. I’ve been wanting to tell you about it.”

  She turned toward him quickly. “What kind of a job? I thought you were going to go to law school.”

  “Well, actually I’m going to do both. I have a distant relative named Lee Novak. He works for the justice department.”

  “So you’ll be working for the government?” Rosa said uncertainly.

  “Well, mostly for Lee. As his assistant. But the good thing is, Rosa, I get a full scholarship to law school.”

  Rosa suddenly brightened. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I know how badly you want to go.”

  “Well, it just dropped into my lap, and I’m very happy about it. I’ll start in the fall.”

  Rosa pulled Boadicea up to a halt and reached out her hand. “Congratulations, Phil. I know you’ll do as well in law school as you did in college.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m thankful to the Lord for it. I think He’s put it in my way.”

  At the mention of God, Rosa released her hand. She knew God was big in this young man’s life, while to her religion played a very small role.

  Phil sensed her sudden reticence and said quickly, “I work pretty hard, but we could go out together once in a while, or I could come ride with you perhaps. Would you like that?”

  “That would be nice. . . .” she said, a twinge of hope in her eyes. Then she lowered her gaze and went on quickly, “But I don’t suppose you’ll have much time for that.”

  Phi
l knew Rosa was unhappy, and he could not help thinking about their last meeting. He had thought often of her kiss, and it still stirred him to remember it. Looking at her now, he saw that her face was set, and throughout the rest of the ride she said almost nothing. Finally, when they dismounted back at the stables, she said curtly, “Good-bye, Phil.”

  “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

  “I doubt it. You’ll be very busy.”

  Phil watched her as she led Boadicea away, and a stable hand came to take the bay. As Phil got into his car, he felt frustrated. “That wasn’t very pleasant,” he muttered. “I’m afraid she’s still angry with me.”

  ****

  Rosa was indeed unhappy. She had thought about Phil’s kiss many times, and she was certain she was in love with him. She was also certain he did not return that love, that he still thought of her as a child. She moped around the next few days with little laughter about her.

  Her father noticed this and finally said, “What’s the matter with you, Rosa? You don’t look happy.”

  “Nothing. I’m fine, Daddy.”

  Big Tony studied his daughter. The time he had been dreading for years was upon him; soon she would take a man and leave home. He finally said, “Are you serious about any of these young fellows that come around?”

  “No, not really.”

  Suddenly Tony remembered that Dominic had mentioned having seen Rosa riding with Phil Winslow. “It’s not Winslow, is it? You’re not serious about him, are you?”

  “No.”

  “What’s he doing? Is he still in college?”

  “No, he’s graduated. He’s working for the justice department, and next fall he’s going to go to law school.”

  Tony Morino’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. His voice grew tense. “So he’s working for the feds, huh? I want you to stay away from him, Rosa, you hear? It can’t come to any good for us. We’re on opposite sides of the fence now.”

  “But, Daddy—”

  “I’ve given you everything you ever wanted, but I’m telling you, stay away from Winslow.”

  Rosa did not answer. The tears were not far away, and she turned and fled from his study.

  Tony called out, “I’m sorry, Rosa, but it has to be that way.” He knew his words had hurt her, but he shook his head. “She’ll get over him. She has to. We don’t need a guy like that hanging around here.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Passing

  Amelia stepped into her apartment and heaved a sigh of relief. Putting her suitcase down, she closed the door, then walked around, happy to be back. She had returned from a two-week engagement in Miami, and although it had been a triumph of sorts, she was drained of energy. She set about unpacking her suitcase, sorting out the clothes that needed washing, and then went to the phone. She called Phil’s work number but only got a secretary, who informed her that Mr. Winslow was out and would not be expected back until late.

  Amelia was disappointed, for she had hoped to spend the evening with Phil. It was early yet, not much past one, so she decided she would spend the afternoon and perhaps the evening with her grandmother. First she took a long, leisurely bath, filling up the tub and adding a fragrant bubble bath. As she lay there relaxing and soaking up the warmth, she went back in her mind over the events of the past two weeks. She had been so well received in Florida it had astonished her.

  Of course, there were the usual lounge lizards who pursued her, but she had learned their species well and avoided them. Most of them wore their hair plastered back with oil and affected the latest fashions. All of them had a predatory gleam in their eyes no matter how smooth their speech, and as she lifted her leg and scrubbed it with a brush, she had a brief moment of distaste for those men.

  But there had been others who were genuinely appreciative. She had met Mel Thompson, who was involved with the new Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios in some way she did not quite understand. He had urged her to think about coming to Hollywood. She had been polite enough but had shown little interest. She had seen enough of movie making to know that all one did was film one scene at a time and not necessarily in order. The last scene of a movie might be filmed first, and something in the middle might be held over until last. That did not appeal to her as much as giving live performances on stage. She especially hoped someday to star in musicals.

  Finally she finished her bath, dried off, and dressed. She had many dresses now, more than she actually needed. She slipped into her undergarments, then put on a simple straight dress with a low waistline, the skirt falling just below her knees. She put on her shoes, which had a bar-and-button fastening, then a silk cloche hat. She picked up her purse and called a cab. It was a luxury being able to use the cab service, and when the cab came within five minutes, she locked the door and left. The drive was pleasant, although warm. September had been hot in New York, but not as sultry as Amelia remembered it in Africa. She leaned back and, being rather sleepy, dozed off, awakening only when the driver said, “Here we are, miss.”

  With a start Amelia opened her eyes and fumbled in her purse. She paid the driver, adding a generous tip, and then got out of the cab. She walked up the steps and rang the bell. Almost at once a woman in a nurse’s uniform answered, saying, “Yes, can I help you?”

  “I’m Amelia Winslow, Mrs. Winslow’s granddaughter.”

  “Come in, please. My name’s Lily Stockman. I’ve been on duty here for three days.”

  Alarm ran through Amelia, and she turned quickly to the nurse, a tall woman with blond hair and very light blue eyes, obviously of Swedish extraction. “My grandmother’s been ill that long?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What is it?”

  Nurse Stockman hesitated. “She’s had some heart problems.”

  “A heart attack?” Amelia demanded.

  “I’d rather you talk to Dr. Locke. He can tell you much more than I can.”

  “Is he here?”

  “No, but he’ll be by this afternoon at four o’clock.”

  Amelia stood irresolutely, a trace of fear racing through her. “Is it serious, Nurse?”

  “She’s very weak. Dr. Locke is concerned and so am I.”

  “May I see her?”

  “Oh yes. I just finished giving her a bath. Dr. Locke said to keep her very quiet, and I know you wouldn’t do anything to excite her.”

  “Of course not.”

  Amelia followed the nurse upstairs and entered the bedroom, determined to let nothing show on her face. When she saw that her grandmother was awake, she said, “Grandmother, what’s all this? You know I don’t permit you to be sick.” Approaching the bed, she leaned over and kissed the sick woman’s cheek, then pulled up the chair and sat down beside her. Holding the thin hand in both of hers, she said, “I’m sorry. You should have had somebody call me.”

  Lola smiled faintly. “I knew you were in Florida. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Bother me! I’d like to cut a switch to you.” Amelia forced herself to be as cheerful as possible, but she was direly alarmed about her grandmother’s condition. Lola had lost weight and seemed much more fragile than the last time Amelia had seen her. She lay very still with her eyes open, but the eyes were the only sign of life. They were still alert, and when Lola asked Amelia to tell about her trip, she spoke about it cheerfully. Finally Amelia ran out of things to say, and she simply sat there holding her grandmother’s hand. The ticking of the grandfather clock to her left sounded to Amelia like a solemn incantation. The light slanted down through the tall, mullioned windows, lighting up the dusky carpet. Millions of dust motes danced in its beams and formed gossamer shapes as they swarmed in the yellow light.

  Amelia felt uncomfortable and wished the doctor would come to give her the news. She knew it would not be good—she could see that for herself—but she wanted to know what could be done.

  After a period of silence, Lola turned her head on the pillow and asked, “How are things with you, my dear?”

  It se
emed an innocent enough question, one that could be asked under many circumstances. But somehow Amelia knew that her grandmother’s question was not an idle one. She felt the power of her grandmother’s gaze, as weak as the woman was, and dropped her head for a moment, thinking how she might answer. Finally she answered the question honestly, although she had not intended to. “I’m not what I ought to be, Grandmother.” She lifted her eyes and saw the compassion and love in the gaze that met hers, and then it all came out. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what I want. I’m making a lot of money, and people seem to like my singing, but somehow when I’m alone at night, I know this isn’t enough.” She talked on, for the first time ever revealing the doubt and fear and uncertainty that had plagued her. She had learned to camouflage these feelings and even hide them from herself, but now somehow they came pouring out.

  Lola Winslow did not speak for a moment, but she squeezed Amelia’s hand and whispered, “You’ve lost your way, but you will find it again. Jesus will never let you go. You have seen too many lives invested in eternity, my dear Amelia, and you know that in the end, that’s what you must do.”

  Hot tears stung Amelia’s eyes, and she dropped her head and bit her lip. When she looked up, her grandmother’s eyes were closed. Her breathing was very shallow, and Amelia silently held the frail hand for a long time.

  ****

  “I can’t offer you much hope, Miss Winslow.” Dr. Locke was a tall, powerfully built man of some fifty years, with a gray beard and salt-and-pepper hair. He had a pair of direct gray eyes, but his voice was gentle. “She’s been a great favorite of mine. I’ve been the family doctor now for over twenty years, and God knows I would do anything I could to help her.”

  The words struck Amelia like a blow. “You mean,” she whispered, “you can’t do anything at all, Dr. Locke?”

  “I’d like to say that I could, and there are miracles. I believe that God raises people up miraculously when we doctors have failed, but unless God intervenes, we will have to say good-bye to your grandmother.”

  Amelia could not speak for a moment. Her throat was thick, and she knew one more word would bring the tears rushing from her eyes. Finally she said, “She wants to go, doesn’t she?”