The Heavenly Fugitive

by Gilbert, Morris

  She had received a ticket in the mail by itself with no note or return address. She often got gifts, but usually the giver wanted to be identified. This time there was simply a ticket for the game, so she thought, Why not?

  She arrived at the stadium, fought her way in, and made her way down to seat number eighteen. The seat next to her, number seventeen, was empty. She sat down and began to study the players as they took batting practice. Babe Ruth drew most of the attention of the fans. Whatever else you might say about him, he could hit the ball! Amelia remembered an article she had read about him, in which he’d been quoted as saying, “I try to swing through it, and I hit it with everything I got. It’s a home run or nothin’ for me.”

  As the game started, Amelia entered into the spirit of it right away. She yelled and stamped her feet along with the crowd, waving her arms around when the Yankees got a hit and groaning when they made an error.

  In the middle of the second inning she was aware that a man was making his way to the empty seat beside her. She did not look at him, for she had discovered this was a sure way to get an unwanted conversation going. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him sit down, and then she heard a familiar voice. “Well, this is a real surprise. I’m glad to see you again, Miss Winslow.”

  Amelia snapped her head around and saw Ryan Kildare smiling at her. He was wearing a white shirt, tie, and straw skimmer.

  Instantly Amelia knew where the ticket had come from and felt a tinge of anger. “What about your promise to your mother?”

  “I called her. She said it was all right.”

  Amelia’s anger vanished and she laughed. She could not help it. He was so brash and cheerful she could not take offense. “You are a devious lawyer.”

  “I think that’s redundant, isn’t it? Like saying apple pie à la mode with ice cream.”

  She could only laugh in reply.

  “Are you enjoying the game?” Kildare asked.

  “Very much. You come often?”

  “As often as I can,” Ryan replied. “I doubt if the Yankees will win it this year. Who’s your favorite player?”

  “Lou Gehrig.”

  “Well, there’s a switch. I thought you’d tell me Babe Ruth. Gehrig’s just a rookie.”

  “I like his looks, though. He seems so steady, and I don’t particularly like Ruth. He’s such an immoral man.”

  “I don’t think they check out moral credentials when they sign ball players. Just how far they can hit the ball.” Ryan laughed, and once again she couldn’t help joining him.

  Amelia turned her attention back to the game and found she enjoyed it even more with someone to share it with. The score was one-nothing going into the eleventh inning, when Lou Gehrig slapped the ball out of the park for a homer. She rose and cheered, “That’s the way, Lou! Show that Bambino how it’s done!”

  Aware that she was getting cold looks from several Yankee fans, she laughed and said, “Well, I must go.”

  “Oh, don’t go yet,” Ryan said. “I’ve got a birthday present for you.”

  Amelia laughed. “But it’s not my birthday.”

  “Well, it will be sooner or later. I thought you might like to meet some of the players.”

  Amelia stared at him. “You mean the Yankees?”

  “Yes, I’ve done some legal work for the team once or twice. Gotten players out of trouble really.”

  “Babe Ruth?”

  Kildare grinned. “Yes, for one. Will you come?”

  “You think it will be all right with your mother?”

  “We won’t tell her.” Kildare winked at her and took her arm to lead her down to the field. The players had not yet gone to the locker room, and Ryan said, “Come along. I’ll introduce you to Gehrig.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “No, but we soon will.” He led her up to a big broad-shouldered man, slightly bowlegged, with deep dimples in each cheek and said, “Mr. Gehrig, this is a great admirer of yours. She’s the famous singer Miss Amelia Winslow.”

  Gehrig smiled shyly and shook hands with Amelia. Despite his size, he seemed very timid. “I’m glad to meet you, Miss Winslow.”

  “Congratulations on winning the game, Mr. Gehrig.”

  Lou Gehrig was used to taking second place to Babe Ruth, and his smile broadened, but he dropped his head humbly and muttered, “It’s good for the team.”

  They managed to get a short conversation out of him, but he was a man of few words.

  Ryan spotted Babe Ruth as Gehrig walked away. “Look, there’s Ruth over there. I do know him.”

  Reluctantly Amelia followed Kildare, and they waited until the big ball player had fended off questions from several sportswriters. He saw Ryan and said, “Counselor, you come to get me out of trouble again?”

  “Not this time, Babe. I want you to meet a fine lady, Miss Amelia Winslow.”

  Ruth’s eyes fixed on Amelia. He stepped forward and without hesitation put his arm around her. “Hey, sweetheart, get rid of this guy here. You and me will go steppin’.”

  Amelia felt helpless in his iron grasp. He had been drinking, and his eyes were bloodshot. “I’m afraid I’ll have to beg off, Mr. Ruth.” She sent a pleading look toward Ryan to rescue her.

  “Ah, come on, honey,” Ruth said, pulling her even closer. “I’ll show you somethin’ you ain’t seen before.” The ball player winked obscenely, but then his attention turned to another woman who had come his way, heavily rouged and wearing a skin-tight dress. He dropped his arm and said to Amelia, “Well, you missed your lucky day, honey.” Then he was off, embracing the other woman, who was only too delighted to receive him.

  “What a horrible man!” Amelia said, brushing herself off.

  “Yes, he’s pretty bad,” Ryan agreed, then to change the subject quickly, he took Amelia’s arm and asked, “How about you and me having dinner tonight?”

  “Oh, I don’t think I can,” Amelia said, not anxious to encourage Kildare too much. “But thanks for asking.”

  Kildare hesitated, then said quietly, “My mother will be there.”

  Despite herself, Amelia burst out laughing at his serious face. “I doubt that!”

  “No, I mean it,” Ryan insisted. “Come and see.”

  “I’m afraid of you lawyers.”

  “There’s no need to be afraid of me. I’m just a man with the same hang-ups and problems as the next guy.” He grinned. “Why don’t you give me a try—if you’re not too afraid, that is.”

  Amelia eyed him askance, then took the challenge. “All right, but if your mother’s not there, you’re in big trouble!”

  ****

  A couple of hours later when Amelia had washed up and changed for dinner, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it to Ryan’s smiling face. Smiling back at him, she said, “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

  “You knew better than that. You look lovely, Amelia.”

  “Thanks. So do you.”

  Ryan laughed and shook his head. “You have a way of putting a fellow down.” He did look sharp in a three-piece herringbone lounge suit with a narrow-fitted jacket, cuffed trousers, striped shirt, and black tie. “We’d better hurry. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

  “What’s the rush?” Amelia asked. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” That’s all Ryan would say as he waited for Amelia to grab her purse and wrap and follow him outside to his car, a black Oldsmobile. He helped her in, then ran around to the driver’s side. No sooner had he gotten in and started to drive than he began to talk baseball to her. She sensed that he did not want to talk about his profession—and also that there was some tension in him she had not noticed at the birthday party. From time to time she looked out the window, noting that they had entered a quiet residential area. He suddenly turned to her and asked, “Do you still carry a thirty-eight?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Dom told me.”

  “I’m not carrying it tonight. I thought I’d be safe with
an upstanding lawyer.”

  He smiled at her and nodded. “All right. I’m glad you feel that way.”

  Five minutes later he pulled the car up to the curb in front of a white frame house with dormers in the upper story. He shut the engine off, got out quickly, and opened the door for her.

  “Your mother lives here alone?” Amelia asked as they walked up the front steps.

  “No, one of my sisters lives with her.”

  He knocked on the door, and it opened almost at once. A young woman who Amelia thought must be no more than twenty smiled at them.

  “Amelia, I’d like you to meet my sister, Faye Kildare. And, Faye, this is the lady I told you so much about, Miss Amelia Winslow.”

  Ryan’s sister was also a redhead. She was not tall but had a pleasing figure and a sweet smile. “I’m so glad you could come,” Faye said. “Mother’s been so looking forward to it.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting her too,” Amelia said, stepping inside. “So we’re having dinner here, huh?” she whispered to Ryan. She was relieved to learn that Ryan really had planned to bring her to dinner with his mother.

  “Come along,” Ryan said. Then hesitantly he added, “My mother’s not in good health.”

  “I see.” Amelia followed him down a hallway, where he knocked on a door, waited for a voice from inside, then opened it.

  “I brought you a visitor, Mother.”

  Amelia stepped into the room and saw a woman sitting in a wheelchair. She was wearing a light brown dress, and her hair had turned silver, although Amelia suspected she was not all that old. The woman had the appearance of being very ill, but there was the same sweetness in her that Amelia had seen in Faye Kildare.

  “This is my mother,” Ryan said. “Mother, this is Miss Amelia Winslow.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you, my dear.”

  Mrs. Kildare lifted her hand, and Amelia went over at once to take it. She felt the smallness of the bones, although she guessed that at one time Mrs. Kildare might have been a strong, healthy woman. Amelia smiled, saying, “Your son has told me how hard you are on him.”

  Mrs. Kildare laughed. “I would say it’s the other way around. He’s hard on me.”

  “Mother, would you entertain Amelia while I go help Faye with dinner?”

  “Of course, son.”

  As soon as Ryan disappeared, Mrs. Kildare said to Amelia, “You can call me Judith, dear. Do sit down.”

  Amelia glanced around the room. It was not opulent in the least but was pleasing. The pale yellow walls were decorated with attractive paintings. A vase of fresh flowers bloomed on the bedside table, and she exclaimed, “What beautiful flowers!”

  “Ryan brings them every other day. He never misses. I used to grow a lot of flowers, but I haven’t been able to do that for some time.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Judith Kildare studied the young woman and said, “You’re a singer, I understand.”

  “Oh, just in nightclubs, I’m afraid.”

  “And you’re from Africa.”

  “Why, yes, I am. My father and mother are missionaries there.”

  “How wonderful!”

  Amelia soon found out more about Ryan Kildare than she ever would have from talking to him herself. She even discovered that Judith Kildare’s husband had been a drunkard and had abused them all, especially Ryan, who as a child, had tried to protect his mother and sisters from his father.

  “He put himself through college and law school and kept us all from starving,” Mrs. Kildare explained. “He helped his two brothers get into successful businesses and has encouraged his sisters to marry well. His two older sisters are both married now to decent men who are good providers.”

  Amelia had known nothing of Ryan’s family, and she was glad to hear that he treated them with love and generosity.

  Ryan came back in, announcing that dinner was ready. He grinned at his mother as he got behind her wheelchair and began to push her out of the room. “I hope you haven’t been telling Miss Winslow what a terrible boy I was growing up.”

  “Of course I was. Totally rotten.”

  Amelia laughed. “I don’t think I can believe anything you say, Judith.”

  The meal was delicious—a succulent lamb roast with mint sauce and roasted potatoes. Amelia complimented Ryan on his culinary skills, but he insisted the cooking was all Faye’s doing. Faye stayed by her mother’s side, taking care of her and helping her eat. After dinner they moved to the parlor, where they listened to two or three records, but soon Judith grew tired. Faye encouraged her mother to retire to her room, saying, “You’ve had enough excitement for one day, Mother.”

  Judith Kildare smiled at Amelia as Faye wheeled her from the room. “It was so good of you to come, dear. I hope you’ll come back.”

  “I hope so too.”

  ****

  Pulling up in front of her apartment building, Ryan shut off the engine. He got out of the car, opened her door, and accompanied Amelia to her apartment. She got out her key, but before unlocking the door, she turned to him. “It was a lovely evening, Ryan. Thank you.”

  “You made Mother very happy. I thank you for coming. She doesn’t get many visitors.”

  “She’s such a sweet lady and so is your sister.”

  “Faye deserves all the credit for caring for Mother. She’s there on the front lines, day in and day out—all I can do is pay for it.”

  They were silent for a moment, then suddenly Ryan said, “I’m about to break another promise I made to my mother.”

  Amelia looked up at him and smiled. “I’ll bet I can guess what promise you’re about to break.”

  “I’ll bet you can’t.”

  “I’ll bet you promised her you’d never kiss a girl on your first date.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “You should be the lawyer.” He put his hands on her shoulders and saw her eyes widen. He did not pressure her, but she willingly leaned forward, her lips softening and gently parting. Ryan suddenly saw Amelia as a woman of great passion who kept her emotions bottled up inside. He pulled her close and kissed her, feeling her respond to him as they embraced for a long time. Then he felt her hand pressing lightly on his chest, and he released her.

  “Good night, Ryan. I had a lovely time.”

  “Will you go out with me again?”

  “Yes!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sentence of Death

  “This is good, Sarah. How did you ever learn to cook Chinese food?”

  Sarah Novak’s face beamed with pleasure. She had just brought a steaming bowlful of fried rice and set it down when Amelia had reached out and forked herself a healthy portion. “Oh, I didn’t know how to cook anything when Lee and I got married except Southern cooking. I could fry chicken, but I’d never eaten Chinese food.”

  Phil picked up a cabbage roll, dipped it in the sweet-and-sour sauce, and munched on it with evident pleasure. “Well, I think you ought to start a restaurant. You could call it Sarah Lee’s Chinese Food. Then you could quit work, Lee, and let her support you.”

  Lee Novak reached across and captured his wife’s hand. They were obviously a very devoted couple, and this was the third time they had invited Phil and Amelia to their home for dinner. The Novaks’ children were all grown and married, so it was just the four of them. Novak looked at Sarah fondly and said, “She can cook anything—Italian, Southern, Chinese. It’s a wonder I don’t weigh three hundred pounds.”

  The talk went around the table, and Amelia found herself liking Lee and Sarah very much. They spoke for a time about various relatives who were scattered all over the world, and then finally the talk turned to Tony Morino.

  Amelia was enjoying one of the tiny pastries Sarah had set out on a tray for dessert, and she said, “I met his lawyer a few weeks ago. He seems nice enough. I’ve been out with him a few times.”

  Novak turned his eyes on Amelia and said quietly, “I know.”

  Startled, Amelia glanced at Phil, who s
hrugged his shoulders. “What do you mean you know? Did Phil tell you?”

  “No, but I’ve been watching Tony and the men who work for him. They’ll make a slip someday, and I’ll put them where they belong—in prison.”

  “Surely you don’t think Ryan Kildare is the same kind of man as Morino.”

  “They’re all in it together. You don’t see it like we do, Amelia. It’s brutal. There are killings all the time, and it’s Kildare who gets them off. Just last month they found one of Morino’s men practically standing over a body with a smoking gun, but Kildare got him off. He’s in the dirty business just as much as anybody else.”

  Amelia was upset, for she had grown fond of Ryan. She took a sip of tea from the small porcelain cup and then aggressively said, “Let me tell you about Ryan. He came up the hard way, Lee. . . . ” She proceeded to tell the facts as she had received them from Judith Kildare. She finally ended by saying, “So he’s fought his way up out of nothing and supported his family. I say that’s good.”

  Phil was studying his sister carefully. He knew what an independent woman she was, and he hesitated to comment. He watched Lee, who also seemed reluctant to say too much. It was Sarah who finally said, “Amelia, New York City is a jungle just like Chicago and other big cities. Their gangsters aren’t all as famous as Al Capone, but they’re all just as ruthless.”

  “But Ryan’s not like that,” Amelia insisted. “He loves his family. I’ve seen it.”

  “The man Ryan Kildare got off is guilty as sin and will kill again,” Lee said. “Now, wouldn’t you say that Kildare has to take part of the responsibility for that?”

  Seeing the distress on his sister’s face, Phil decided to change the subject. “Let’s play Mah-Jongg. I feel lucky tonight.”

  They all readily agreed, and soon the couples were playing the popular game. But as Phil took part, he was aware that something was troubling about Amelia’s defense of Ryan Kildare. He made it a point to talk to Lee about this later, but he was fairly certain of the answer he would get.

  ****

  The next day Amelia and Ryan returned to her apartment after a Yankees game, and she invited him in. It was still early, no later than four o’clock, and she fixed coffee and brought out a cake, proudly announcing, “Here, I made it myself.”