The Heavenly Fugitive

by Gilbert, Morris

  ****

  As soon as Rosa walked into the family room, both Tony and Maria knew something was on her mind and gave her their full attention. They had been reading, and now they laid their books down as Rosa announced, “I have to talk to you, Mom and Dad.”

  “Why, what is it?” Tony asked. “Something wrong?”

  Rosa drew a chair up closer in front of the two and said, “Please, I want you to do me one favor.”

  Maria saw the intensity in her daughter and said, “Why, of course. What is it, Rosa?”

  “I want you to listen to everything I have to say. It may take a while, and I know you’re going to be shocked by it, but please let me say everything, and then I promise to listen to you as long as you want to talk to me.”

  Tony Morino was apprehensive. “What is it? Are you in some kind of trouble, Rosa?”

  “Please, Daddy, just promise me you’ll listen.”

  Tony glanced at Maria and saw the baffled look in her eyes. “Well, sure, Rosa, go ahead. I’ll keep still.”

  Rosa began to speak, talking about her life from way back. She had never completely revealed to her father how unhappy she was, and as well as she could, she kept references to his criminal ties out of it. She spoke of how grateful she was for everything they had done for her, but she also let them know that all the expensive gifts and fancy living had not brought peace to her.

  She had to get to the heart of the matter, and as soon as she mentioned Phil Winslow, she saw Tony stiffen. He started to speak, but then blinked his eyes and clamped his lips shut. She could see the resistance in his body, but she went on anyway. She related what had happened to her and how ever since she had cried out to God, a peace had come over her along with a happiness she had never known.

  “I know both of you are going to be upset by this. We’ve always been Catholic, but I have to tell you that it was all just something on the outside for me. It didn’t change me. I guess you’ve seen in the last few years with all my craziness—my drinking, smoking, and running with a wild crowd—that God hadn’t done anything in my life. And all that time I was going to confession and Mass, but it didn’t change me. Not in my heart. But ever since I called upon Jesus it’s been so different.”

  Maria Morino was transfixed. She could not deny the joy and the reality that seemed to flow out of her daughter. Why, she’s like a new girl, she thought. I’ve never seen her so happy.

  Rosa went on. “I’ve told Jamie, and I’ll tell you, I believe God speaks to people. If He tells me to stay in the Catholic Church, then I will. But if He tells me to leave, then I’ll have to obey Him. Now,” she said, “it’s your turn. Please say anything you’d like to. I love you both and always will.”

  Tony breathed a sigh of relief. He had been expecting something far worse, although he didn’t know what. Now he simply stared at Rosa. To him religion had been merely a matter of form, and when she had spoken of how little it had affected her, her words had gone straight to his heart. His reaction was, It’s never done anything for me either. It hasn’t changed me a bit. My religion has all been on the outside, just like Rosa’s.

  Maria stood. Of all the family, she was the most faithful to her church, but as she came toward her daughter and Rosa stood up, she embraced her. “I don’t understand what it is that’s happened to you, but I know it’s good. I can see it, and I’m so glad you’ve found peace with God. Whatever He tells you to do, I want you to obey Him.”

  Rosa’s eyes swam with tears, and she clutched her mother fiercely. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered huskily. “Thanks for always being there to support me.”

  Tony Morino remained seated, and when Rosa turned to him, waiting for his reply, it was clear he was having a difficult time responding. He looked down at his hands, twisting them and fidgeting in his seat. When he looked up again, he did not say what had first jumped into his mind. He saw the same thing in his daughter his wife saw—a joy and a peace and a contentment that had never been there before. He knew she was different now, and he sat there wondering many things.

  “Well, Rosa,” he said quietly, “I guess I’ve got something to tell you, but first I agree with your mother. I don’t know about this thing that’s happened to you, but I can see it’s good. And anything that makes you happy, you know I’m for it, no matter what.”

  Rosa ran over and threw her arms around Tony. She sat down in his lap, as she had done ever since she was a little girl. Tony enjoyed the embrace and thought, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

  When Rosa stood up, Tony said, “I’ve been talking to Doc Clarkson. He sent me to see a specialist.”

  “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

  “My heart’s not doing too good,” Tony said quietly. “I’ve known it for a long time. Clarkson’s been getting me to eat right and exercise, and most of all,” he smiled rather grimly, “he said I needed to avoid stress. Well, you know how impossible that is for a man like me doing what I do.”

  Rosa stood very still, feeling fearful, for she loved her father. She had known he was not well and that he had never taken care of himself, and now she feared worse news was to come.

  Tony said abruptly, “I’m getting out of everything, Rosa. I’m stepping down. From now on I’ll pursue some of my legitimate business interests, but mostly I’m going to stop and take a look at the world.” He got up and walked over to Maria and hugged her. “I’m going to pay attention to this woman here and do all I can,” he said simply, “to help my kids. Maybe,” he went on with a smile, “you can teach me to ride, and maybe Jamie can teach me to take a picture.”

  At that moment Rosa Morino felt a wave of pure joy. She threw her arms around him again and then felt her mother hugging her. The three stood there, and finally Rosa said, “Dad, go tell Jamie what you’ve just told me. He needs to hear it.”

  ****

  Amelia had accepted Rosa’s invitation to meet her for lunch, but the food they’d ordered had not been touched. Amelia had sat transfixed as Rosa, with her eyes glowing and words tumbling over her lips, poured out the story of her conversion and how things had changed so drastically in her family. Finally Rosa took a deep breath and gave a half laugh. “Well, that’s what has happened to me, Amelia, and I’m so happy.”

  Amelia was touched. She had always liked Rosa, and now she reached over and covered the girl’s hand with her own. “I’m glad for you, Rosa. I can see that there’s something in you that wasn’t there before.”

  Rosa smiled, then asked quietly, “Amelia, can I ask you something?”

  “Why, of course, what is it?”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about salvation—the new birth, as Phil called it. I didn’t know anything about it. I was lost and on my way to hell, and you never said a word to me. Why is that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No, not to me.”

  Amelia became agitated. She put her fork down and then placed both hands on the table, pressing them hard against the cloth. She did not answer for a moment. Then she looked up and said, “I didn’t tell you about it because I don’t have it.”

  “You’re not a Christian?”

  “No.”

  “But I thought—” Rosa broke off in confusion. “You were raised by missionaries.”

  “Being in a Christian home doesn’t make you a Christian—any more than being in a garage makes you an automobile.”

  Rosa stared at Amelia. “I don’t understand. How could you live with people like Phil and like your parents must be and not give your heart to Jesus?”

  “I don’t know, Rosa.” Amelia sat there, and many things passed through her mind. Memories from her past came floating before her. She remembered when she was just a little girl listening to her uncle Barney preaching—how the words he had spoken about Jesus had broken her heart. She had gone forward and given her heart to Him—or so she thought. But as she grew older, she had resisted God at every turn and decided He wasn’t for her. Maybe her commitment as a child wasn’t real, o
r maybe she had willingly turned away. She was never sure, but she knew now that her life might have been very different indeed if she had continued to live her life for Him. Now she felt it was too late. She had blown any chance she had of making things right with God.

  “I’ve always wanted the wrong things, Rosa,” she whispered. “The world’s got a hold on me, and I can’t break away. All my life I’ve run from God. Phil calls me heaven’s fugitive, and . . .” Here Amelia’s lips trembled, and she had to pause for a moment. Finally she shook her head and rose. “I guess I always will be. I’m happy for you, Rosa, but I’m a lost cause.”

  ****

  Leo Marx stared out the window but really saw nothing. His mind, always quick and impulsive, leaped from point to point. He ignored Jake Prado, who stood behind him like a shadow, and when he turned, his eyes glared with rage.

  “Jake, they got me. That DA and his assistant!”

  “You mean Winslow?”

  “Sure. He’s been in my hair for too long, and he’s sharper than anybody I’ve ever been up against.”

  “What’s he got?”

  “He’s got evidence is what he’s got. I got a call from him thirty minutes ago. He’s got it on paper, black and white, enough to put me away.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He wants me to turn state’s evidence. He says he’ll get me a lighter sentence if I’ll do that.”

  Jake Prado stared at his boss. “You’d never do a thing like that. You ain’t no stoolie, Leo.”

  Leo Marx gripped his hands together. He stared at them as if they did not belong to him, and then flung them apart in a wild gesture. He was usually a careful, guarded man, but now facing a long sentence, he cast all caution aside.

  “Okay, there’s one way out of this, and we’re going to take it.”

  “What’s that, Leo?”

  “We’re going to get that evidence back. If I can get it, he can do all he wants to, but he’s got no case. Black marks on paper is all it is, but it’s life or death to me, so we’ve got to get it.”

  “Do you want me to bust into his office? I can get Sammy. He can open any safe ever made.”

  “No, he wouldn’t be fool enough to leave it where we could find it. He’s got to give it to us.”

  “Give it to us!” Prado stared at Marx. “Why would he do that?”

  “He’d do it,” Marx said slowly, “to get something from us that he wants more than he wants me in jail.”

  Jake Prado was shrewd, but he could not understand this. “What do you mean? What have we got that he wants?”

  “Nothing now, but we’re going to.” Marx lifted his eyes and held Prado’s gaze. “We’re gonna snatch his sister, that nightclub singer.”

  “Kidnap her?”

  “That’s right.”

  Jake Prado was a tough individual. He had killed before, but this plan shook his confidence. “You know what they do to kidnappers? It’s the death penalty, Leo.”

  “It’s the death penalty for me if I get twenty years in the pen or even more, and don’t think you’ll get off, Jake. They’ve got the goods on all of us. You included. It’s the only way. We grab his sister, he gives us the papers, and that’s it.”

  “What if he won’t?”

  “He will. I had some people looking at these two. They’re real close, Jake. His own flesh and blood. Don’t worry. Once we get her, he’ll do anything to save her.”

  Jake nodded slowly. “You’re the boss, Leo. How do you want to do it?”

  “It won’t be any problem, Jake. Her name is Amelia Winslow, and she’s working every night at the Orchid Club. Stake her out, and you can either take her there or in her apartment. Probably coming out of the club would be better, but I’ll leave that to you.”

  “Where do you want to hold her?”

  “We’ll take her out to the farm. No one knows about that place.”

  Jake Prado was a simple-minded man who attacked one problem at a time. He nodded. “I’ll do it, Leo.”

  “Call me when you’ve got her out there, Jake.”

  ****

  As Amelia emerged from the Orchid Club, the doorman smiled and said, “Good night, Miss Winslow.”

  “Good night, Kenny.”

  Kenny walked to the curb and opened the door of the cab that had pulled up. He waited until Amelia stepped inside, then shut it firmly and stepped back. The cab pulled away, and Kenny walked back to take his position.

  Amelia gave her address to the cabdriver and said, “You’re new, aren’t you? Usually Kelly takes me home.”

  “His night off, miss.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  The cab moved down the street, and Amelia slumped back against the seat with her eyes closed. She was tired, and she had struggled with her decision about All for Love until she was weary of it. Sid, her agent, thought she was crazy. His hair practically stood on end when she had told him she was having trouble deciding.

  “Having trouble!” he had shouted. “What’s trouble? You’ll make tons of dough and be the brightest star on Broadway. You call that trouble? Come on, wake up, Amelia!”

  Amelia tried to put the thoughts out of her mind, but they would not leave. Suddenly the cab swerved, and she was thrown to one side. Looking out the window, she saw they had pulled into an alley. “What are you doing?” she cried out. She hardly had time to think as the door opened and she was roughly seized by her wrists and dragged out of the car. Panicking now, she opened her lips and screamed, “Help!” But she only had time for that one cry before a blunt object struck her in the temple, and a thousand brilliant, dancing lights exploded across her vision. Then she knew nothing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Amelia’s Choice

  The sun dropped slowly behind the low-lying hills in the west, and for one moment shadow and light seemed to stand still. Rosa held Boadicea’s reins firmly, looking out on the rolling countryside and admiring the pearl-colored air that surrounded them.

  “It’s been a fine day, Phil,” she said, turning to meet her companion’s eyes.

  Rosa had invited Phil to go riding with her at the Morino estate, and he had gladly accepted the invitation. The two of them had ridden hard until both horses were now ready to move more slowly. They slowed their mounts to a walk, and he turned and smiled at her. As the years had passed, thoughts of Rosa had never left Phil’s mind and heart, and now as he studied her face, he knew with a certainty that his life would never be complete without this woman in it. He met her glance and was struck anew by her physical beauty. She had a teasing expression in her eyes and a youthful air. She also presented a provocative challenge, which for all her youth made her a complex and unfathomable woman. Color ran freshly across her cheeks as she studied him. She drew away the curtain of reserve, and at that moment her face graphically registered the light and shadows of her feelings. Phil saw the wonder and fullness of heart that flowed in her. He was aware that her search for love had come to an end, and he knew that he loved her.

  The thought stirred him, but it was not new. It had been coming on for some time. He said nothing until they reached the stables and let O’Connor take the horses, and then as they walked slowly back toward his car, he paused and turned toward her. She turned to him quickly, her eyes beautiful and dark in the deepening twilight.

  Rosa, too, was lost in her own strange and humble thoughts. As he drew her close she saw the scar on his temple and noted the breadth and regularity of his face. She lifted her face and met his lips with hers, clinging to him with a fierce, quick, and loving spirit. She was not quite crying when she kissed him, but an emotion so strong filled her she could not explain it. She only knew that this was right and that she had found a harbor for her love. When he pulled back and searched her face, she smiled at him with tears glistening in her eyes, knowing that her girlhood and all the things that belonged to it were gone, and she came now as a mature woman ready for love.

  “I’ve loved you since I was fifteen years o
ld, Phil,” she whispered.

  Her words caught at Phil, and he held her lightly in his arms. “I don’t know when I started loving you. You were just a child to me then, but you’re not a child any longer, Rosa. You’re a woman.”

  “Do you love me, Phil?”

  The question was simple, childlike. Rosa indeed had a childlike spirit, which had increased since she had found God. Phil tightened his arms. “Yes,” he said. “I love you, and I’ll never love anyone else.”

  “Then that’s enough. Whatever happens, we’ll have each other.” She lifted her lips, and he kissed her again, more gently this time, and the two turned and walked into the gathering darkness.

  ****

  After Phil reached home, he found he could not stop thinking about Rosa. His life had changed, and he knew he would never again be alone. As he started to undress and get ready for bed, he marveled at how things had worked out. A sheer stream of pleasure ran through him as he recalled their evening together, and even more as he thought of the love that shone in her dark, eloquent eyes.

  He sat down on the bed to remove his shoes but paused when the phone rang. Reaching over, he picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Winslow?”

  “This is Phil Winslow. Who’s this?”

  “This is Leo Marx.”

  Instantly Phil grew wary and concentrated on the voice. “What do you want, Marx?”

  “I want the papers you’ve got that can send me to the pen.”

  “You’re not likely to get them.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I might.”

  “If that’s all you wanted to talk about—”

  “Wait a minute. Don’t hang up. There’s one more thing. I’ve got somebody here that wants to talk to you.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “I think you will be. It’s your sister.”

  A cold rush of adrenaline shot through Phil Winslow. It was like the time on a hunt in Africa when he had looked down to see a black mamba rearing up at his feet ready to strike. He had been momentarily paralyzed then, and now was much the same. “Marx, you’d better—”