by Mary Miley
‘Wait. There’s more.’
‘No time.’ He threw on his jacket and bolted toward the door, leaving me no choice but to follow. We moved so fast I was sure the waitress would take us for eat-and-run dodgers.
‘Listen,’ I gasped as I ran along side of him, our footsteps echoing eerily on the damp pavement. ‘Vesa Leka is not going to recover. The bullets tore up a couple of organs. She’s dying. Very soon. The only weapon she has left is her life. She is luring him to her room. She wants him to kill her. Then he’ll be charged with her murder. That’s how she’ll get her revenge.’
We were too late. Two police cars blocked the hospital entrance where lights blazed. Hospital staff were milling helplessly about the admitting area. Marks was nowhere to be seen.
And Vesa Leka was dead.
THIRTY-FOUR
‘Looked at the right way, the plan was a success,’ I told my grandmother the next afternoon.
It was like a scene from some absurd farce: two ladies sipping tea from dainty porcelain cups in a fussy Victorian parlor as if they were prattling on about the weather, when we were talking about death and violence of the most gruesome sort. But Grandmother was a tough old bird. There was no need to shade the details, so I left nothing out of the history of Vesa Leka.
‘By the time Carl and I reached the hospital, it was too late. Marks had gotten hold of a white coat – someone speculated that he must’ve gone around to the employees’ entrance and snatched one from the changing room. The police guard said Marks walked right past him into Room 7 with a confident step and a short greeting, and he didn’t suspect a thing. Whether Vesa Leka was awake or not, we’ll never know, but he smothered her. Evidently it takes a good while to smother someone, and while Marks was holding the pillow on her face, the guard looked in and saw what was going on. He grabbed for the pillow and tussled with Marks, but as big as that cop was, Marks was tougher. He nearly knocked the guard out. The commotion alerted the night nurse who called for help, but by then, Marks had run out of the hospital. The police are looking for him now.’
‘Another cup please, Jessie.’ I poured from the silver teapot and stirred in sugar and milk the way she liked.
‘Since Carl was Steve Marks’s partner, the police suspected him of being in on the plot. They took him to the station for questioning. I hope he’s been released by now.’ I winced as I considered what Carl would have to say to me when we next met. Whatever affection he had for me would have dried up like raindrops in the desert. I told myself I didn’t care. I was David’s girl, and Carl was just a friend. But it hurt.
‘What about you? Did the police not suspect you as well?’
I shook my head. ‘No, Carl made sure of that. He distanced himself from me quickly, saying he’d been at the diner alone and was just coming back to the hospital to fetch Marks. I had already told everyone I was Vesa Leka’s cousin, so they had no reason to think I was involved with these out-of-town policemen. I said I’d just stepped out for some fresh air. Then I told them her story, about how she was seeking revenge on the five Serbian deserters. A newspaper reporter arrived and began scribbling furiously, so I expect to see the story in this afternoon’s papers.’
‘That should help direct public attention to Marks. I hope they catch him soon. A dangerous man like that who has murdered so many people …’ She made a ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ sound with her tongue and then said, ‘I suppose we will be overrun with newspapermen after the first account appears.’
‘I didn’t give the police this address. I said I was staying at a hotel in the theater district. I’ve told them everything I know about Vesa Leka, except my own part in her plan, and I think it best if I fade away. I’ll leave on tomorrow morning’s train to Los Angeles.’
‘Good, then you’ll be here for today’s dinner. It has probably slipped your mind, but this is Thanksgiving Day, and Delia is preparing a small turkey in honor of the occasion. That and a good night’s sleep should restore your spirits.’ Grandmother set her cup down and folded her hands in her lap. ‘Miss Leka’s plan wouldn’t have worked had you not played your part. How does that make you feel?’
Trust Grandmother to hone in on the key issue.
‘I’ve been asking myself that question all day. Did I help Vesa Leka commit suicide? Is it suicide when you have only a few hours to live? Or did I arrange a murder? I’m afraid I wanted Marks to pay for his crimes badly enough … and she was going to die very soon …’ I sighed and shook my head. ‘I just don’t know.’
‘She was the bait.’
‘I helped her get what she wanted, and she wanted to be murdered. Without me, she would have died in her hospital bed, probably before talking with any reporters, and Marks would have gotten clean away. When she realized that Marks wouldn’t be arrested for having shot her down in the street, she had to revise her plans. A police officer who shot a fleeing man who had himself just shot another man would get a medal, not a noose. Once she realized Marks was going to get away with killing her a second time – those were her words – she devised a way for him to kill her for good the third time. She persuaded me to tell Marks that she was going to recover from her wounds and would tell her story at her trial and to the newspapers. She made it plain – through me – that she knew who he was and that his exposure was imminent. I “accidentally” gave him the necessary details: her room number, the floor, and the layout of the people on duty. She lured him there fully expecting him to kill her. And in doing so, he ensured his own death – or at the very least a life sentence – which let her have her revenge on the fifth deserter. It was not merely vengeance. It was about honor.’
‘They’ll have to catch him first,’ she said primly.
They caught Steve Marks the following day at the train station, when he tried to buy a ticket to Vancouver. The ticket seller recognized him from the artist’s sketch in the newspaper and notified the police, who arrived in force to pry him off the northbound train and charge him with the murder of a hospital patient.
Carl was released after a day in custody, with stern warnings from the local police never to return to San Francisco. Then they told him to be back for the trial or else. When asked if he knew the whereabouts of Vesa Leka’s cousin, the I-cannot-tell-a-lie detective said he didn’t know she had a cousin.
THIRTY-FIVE
The bride wore green – a pale, leafy green that would naturally appeal to an outdoorsy girl like Helen. The groom wore a double-breasted, dark gray sack suit with a pale green shirt to match his intended’s dress. She carried a nosegay of wildflowers we had picked for her that morning at the edge of town. Kit acted as Helen’s attendant, looking … well, if not exactly cherubic, at least presentable, and holding a matching nosegay. We’d put a little curl in her stick-straight hair and brushed her cheeks with rouge. I had the distinct impression that given time, she would grow into an attractive young woman. Larry’s brother, who served as his best man, flipped the records on the borrowed Victrola from solemn orchestral music for the bride’s entrance to lively jazz afterwards.
Mrs Reynolds, Helen’s mother, blinked back tears during the brief ceremony. ‘Oh dear, I’m such a cry-baby,’ she laughed, ‘always weepy at the happiest events. To think, my little girl … married. It seems like yesterday that she—’
‘—caught her first frog?’ interjected one girlfriend, to much laughter.
After the minister had tied the knot, the guests sent up a cheer and descended on the refreshments prepared by Helen’s friends. I had prepared two bowls of fruit punch, one for the wets and one for the drys. It was easy to tell which was which. In the corner, Helen and Larry busied themselves opening their gifts.
‘An electric iron!’ Helen exclaimed, holding the gift aloft like a trophy.
‘I got you this nice new one so you could leave your old one with us,’ teased Melva.
‘And oh, Jessie, thank you for the towels. How lovely and soft!’
‘Open mine next,’ urged Kit, handing her cousin a small b
ox.
‘Why, Kit, this is the most practical gift yet – a sturdy clothesline.’
‘And clothespins too,’ Kit added, in case she hadn’t seen them.
‘Trust you to understand how much a girl like me appreciates those practical items! I’ll be using this every wash day and thinking about you each time I do.’
I stood at the edge of the patio beside Mrs Reynolds. ‘I’m so glad I was able to get back in time – I wouldn’t have missed this for the world! Will you be taking Kit home with you tonight?’ I’d miss the girl. We’d all grown rather fond of her, in spite of her difficult ways.
‘No, not tonight,’ said Mrs Reynolds. ‘The newlyweds are going to spend a short honeymoon at the beach, did you know that? A friend of Larry’s has lent them his cottage. They’ll return Wednesday to pack the motorcar and leave Thursday morning for the long drive to Yosemite, driving Kit home to me in Riverside as they go. If that’s all right with all of you?’
‘Whatever you and Helen have worked out is perfect for us.’
‘I’ll miss my little girl … but she and Larry promise to come home at least once a year. And I’ll have Kit for company.’
When it was time for the newlyweds to go, Myrna passed around a bag of rice, and we lined the front walk to shower the couple as they ran to Larry’s motorcar. Helen threw her nosegay and Lillian caught it. ‘Gosh – and I don’t even have a fella!’ she protested.
‘I’m free,’ teased Larry’s brother.
As the last guest drifted away, Myrna announced, ‘Come on, girls, many hands make light work. Let’s put on our aprons and whip this place back in shape before dark!’
In an hour, no one would have dreamed we had just hosted a wedding. I poured everyone a glass of leftover fruit punch – from the spiked bowl, of course – and we kicked off our shoes and freed our tired toes. Just then, a voice from the other side of the front-door screen echoed through the empty house.
‘Anybody home?’
‘That sounds like Carl Delaney,’ I said. Kit saw my lips and jumped up before I could move. The moment of reckoning had arrived. I polished off my glass of punch for fortification.
I called, ‘Come on through, Carl. We’re all out back, recuperating from Helen’s wedding.’ Kit flew through the house and met him at the door.
‘You’re welcome to leftovers and punch,’ said Myrna when he had joined us.
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ he said genially, helping himself to a large slice of cake. He seemed calm, just like his usual self. I was the one who was perspiring. ‘Evening, ladies. Congratulations, Mrs Reynolds,’ he said to Helen’s mother, giving her a charming bow. ‘I trust the event was a success?’
Carl chatted amicably with everyone for a few minutes, then turned down the volume of his voice and said to me, ‘Might we go out front for a while?’
Lowering his voice prevented the other girls from hearing him, but it couldn’t prevent Kit from reading his lips. No sooner had we excused ourselves than she marched out and joined us.
‘It’s okay,’ said Carl when I raised my eyebrows pointedly. ‘I only wanted to fill you in on the latest news from San Francisco. Nothing secret. I just didn’t want to interrupt the festivities with unpleasant talk.’
Kit settled herself on the porch swing where she had a clear view of both our faces.
‘Carl,’ I began. ‘Let me just say, first, that I want to apologize for not sharing Vesa Leka’s plan with you that night. I couldn’t. I knew that if you knew, you’d prevent it, and try to have Marks arrested yourself, and, well, we wanted …’
To my astonishment, he waved off my halting explanation. ‘I didn’t come here to scold you. I admit, I was pretty steamed that night, and I wish you’d confided in me sooner, but at least give me credit for understanding the position you were in.’
‘Then you don’t think I was wrong?’
‘I didn’t say that. I think we could have handled it differently, but it’s over now, and Marks’s murder trial is slated for January. That’s what we just heard from San Francisco.’
‘I didn’t know anyone at the San Francisco police department was on speaking terms with you,’ I said.
He grinned. ‘They aren’t. But they’ll talk to our captain. And things are friendly again. They were furious that we barged into their territory, guns blazing, no less, ignoring protocol, but when they found we had followed the rules and that they had routed the message to the wrong desk, they cooled off and shared this information to our chief a few hours ago. They’ve charged Marks with first-degree murder. The defense will argue that Vesa Leka was already dead when he came into her room, but the night nurse will testify that she was alive moments earlier when she checked on her, and the police guard will testify that he heard her moaning when Marks was suffocating her. That’s what brought him into the room. So I think our Serbian deserter is headed for a long prison sentence at the very least.’
‘Good.’
Carl gave a satisfied nod and stood to leave.
Kit broke in. ‘Wait. What about my mother’s killer?’
‘I think,’ I began carefully, ‘that we’ve come to the conclusion that her death was a tragic accident …’ but she brushed my words aside with a wave of her thin hand.
‘You’re just telling me that to make me feel better. Ma didn’t accidentally drink rotgut. She didn’t drink hooch, not hardly at all. And never at strange places where she didn’t know where it came from. I know. I used to be with her in lots of those places. And I saw her face. Someone tried to cover up the cuts and bruises but they didn’t. Stop treating me like I’m stupid. Being deaf doesn’t mean I’m stupid.’
‘No one thinks you’re stupid, Kitty Kat,’ said Carl before I could protest. ‘We think you’re young.’
‘So I’m not old like the rest of you, so that means I can’t know the truth? Joe Ardy Zone was mean. He used to hit my mother and call her names.’
‘You saw him do that?’ I asked, horrified.
‘I never saw him do it, but I saw her bruises, and I saw her crying.’
‘Kit,’ said Carl in a gentle tone of voice she could not hear. ‘I’ve considered all that. We know he’s a gangster. I’m sorry your mother ever got mixed up with him – he’s a very bad man, no doubt about that. But I checked on his whereabouts the day your mother died, and he was definitely in Los Angeles, not in San Diego. He couldn’t have killed her.’
‘Where was he?’
‘At home with his wife. There are plenty of witnesses, and not all of them gangsters on his payroll.’
‘Elsie. That’s his wife. Joe doesn’t like her, but they can’t get a divorce because they’re good Catholics. Isn’t that funny? He can kill people and beat up people and break laws, but he can’t get a divorce because he’s so religious.’
Carl and I were silent. She was too young for such cynicism.
‘So what?’ she continued, louder. ‘Who cares where Joe was? He doesn’t kill people himself. He gets other people to kill for him. Mostly Danny Boy. Find out where Danny Boy was the day Ma died, and you’ll find the man who killed her. I know some other people Danny Boy killed. Do you want to know their names?’
‘Sure.’
‘Carl …’ I warned.
He held up his hand to forestall my objections. ‘Sure, Kit, I’d like to know.’
‘Heck Stetson is one. Rube Frankel. Little Man Dragas. Frank Capriano and his brother whose name I forget. You want more?’
‘Sure.’
‘Are you going to arrest Danny Boy?’
‘I don’t have any proof.’
‘What do you need proof for? Everyone knows he’s a killer. Why don’t you just shoot him in the head? That’s what he does.’
‘Because he’s one of the Bad Guys and we’re the Good Guys. We have to follow the law or it will be nothing more than two groups of Bad Guys. And I don’t want to live in a city where two groups of Bad Guys are duking it out for control. Do you?’
She sniffed
with disgust.
‘Look, Kit, we’ve tried to get at Danny Boy and others in the Ardizzone gang, but they’re always a step ahead of us. In cases like these, sometimes the best we can hope for is that they’ll have a falling out and kill each other. It happens more often than you think. But we’re bound to catch a break sooner or later.’
‘No, you won’t. Not ever. You know why? Because Joe always knows what the police are going to do. You know why? Because there’s a stool pigeon inside your headquarters who tells him.’
Carl came out of his chair like a shot. ‘Who?’
She squirmed in her seat. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.
‘Are you sure?’
She nodded. ‘He tells Joe everything.’
‘You said “he”. It’s a man?’
‘I don’t know.’
Carl started pacing. Kit pushed one bare foot against the porch railing to rock the chain swing back and forth. I could tell she was pleased with her own importance.
‘Did you find all this out by reading lips?’ he asked uneasily.
‘I sat in the corner and drew portraits while I watched their lips,’ she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. ‘I didn’t have anything else to do.’
‘That’s how she learned why David Carr’s trial went so badly,’ I added.
‘Because Joe hated David’s medicine whiskey,’ she explained, forgetting that Carl was already aware of the details. ‘It made their lousy hooch look even worse. Their own sales went lower on account of David.’
Carl nodded his understanding. ‘I’d heard about the appeals being stonewalled and wondered … that is, not many people come to trial on charges involving liquor, let alone get convicted and sent to the pokey, unless someone is making a point, so we figured Carr had run afoul of someone big. Just didn’t know who. It wasn’t us locals. Makes sense that it was the feds in cahoots with Ardizzone’s boys. An unbeatable partnership.’
‘Joe had so much hooch coming in and not much going out, Joe said it was backed up. No more room. He said they would have to find another Fort Knox.’