I laughed. "She's the best. How about that Gary? And did you meet his squeeze and business partner, Bobby?"
"Yeah. They're made for each other. You know, they flew out here just for the day, just to be here."
I smiled to myself. "I didn't know that."
"Sure. They fly back in the morning."
I sighed contentedly.
Carter kissed me on the cheek. "I wasn't sure whether to tell you this or not."
"What?"
"Marnie called Jeffery." We had parted on very bad terms in June. Right after the war, we'd been lovers. Up until the time I'd met Carter in '47. He was now married. And to a very nice girl, from what I'd heard.
I tightened up. "What did he say?"
"Aw, Nick. I shouldn't have brought him up."
"No. It's OK. What'd he say?"
"She said she didn't completely understand, but it was something about not being able to attend a Christmas party. Went against his beliefs and his wife's beliefs. Marnie said he was polite but not friendly."
I just shook my head.
. . .
I was in bed reading an old copy of Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass that Mike had given me when we first met. I heard Carter's big feet stomping up the stairs. He'd sent me to bed while he finished cleaning up downstairs.
He walked in and closed the door behind him. As he undressed, he asked, "What are you reading?"
"Walt Whitman. I mentioned him to Sam on Friday morning and thought I'd go back to one of my favorites."
"And?"
"I don't know how he got away with it. Listen to this."
Behold this swarthy face—these gray eyes,
This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck,
My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm;
Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with robust love,
And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship’s deck, give a kiss in return;
We observe that salute of American comrades, land and sea,
We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.
Carter was down to his BVDs now and stretched out on the bed next to me. "What do you think he means at the end?"
"'Natural and nonchalant?'" I asked.
"Yeah."
I thought for a moment. "You know, like in the kitchen tonight when you grabbed me and we did a tango. Naturally and nonchalantly."
Carter sat up and looked at me.
"That's the way I feel with you. It's as though we've known each other forever and been this way forever."
I smiled and didn't reply. What could I say to that?
He stood up, walked into the bathroom, and brushed his teeth. I put my book on the table by the bed. Once he was done, he climbed in next to me. I grinned as he rolled over and pinned my arms back.
"Hey!"
He reached down and softly bit my left ear. This was some sort of fetish he had, not that I ever complained. Whispering in my ear, he said, "What's the big secret you have with Henry?"
I laughed. "How'd you know?"
Carter kissed my neck. "You're not the only investigator around here. I have my ways."
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, would it?"
Using his left hand, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them together. He leaned on me and showed me the fingers of his right hand. He looked at them as he wiggled them. "See that, Nick? That's what you're gonna get unless you tell me."
I shook my head. "I don't care what you do to me, fireman. I'm not afraid of you."
"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.
I nodded.
He reached down and began to tickle me. About five minutes later, when I was having a hard time breathing, I said, "OK! Uncle!"
He let me go and rolled over to his side of the bed. "OK, son. Tell me. What's the secret?"
I stood up. I was a little afraid, truth be told. "I need a Camel, first."
He looked at me from the bed and just shook his head. "You can delay all you want. I'm gonna find you out. If you won't talk, I have ways to get to Henry."
"You leave Henry alone. He's innocent." I pulled out a Camel and offered him one. He shook his head, so I put it in my mouth and lit it with my old beat-up Zippo.
Taking in a drag, I said, "Promise you won't be mad?"
He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Let's hear what it is and then I'll tell you." He patted his hand on the bed. "Come on, son. Sit down."
I stood there and thought about it for a moment.
Carter's face went from mock-serious to serious. "What is it? What have you done?"
I opened my mouth to speak and, before I could, he said, "This is about money, isn't it?"
I nodded slowly.
"How much?"
"Eight million."
Carter jumped out of bed and stood there looking at me.
"What did you just say?"
"Eight million dollars. More or less."
"Cripes! What in the world costs eight million dollars?"
"A twenty-story office building at the corner of Market and Montgomery." I couldn't believe I was finally telling him.
"How do you pay for something like that?"
"Bonds. Our part is only about a million."
"Our part?" He crossed his arms.
I nodded.
"When did you start this?"
"November 2nd. After the Halloween Party disaster."
"You already bought the land?" He put out his big hand. "Excuse me, son. We already bought the land?"
I nodded.
He shook his head. "When were you gonna tell me?"
I tried to smile. "At the ribbon cutting."
He looked at me for a long time. I was holding the cigarette in my hand. I felt like I was in a lot of trouble. I hoped if I just stood still, nothing bad would happen.
Finally, Carter sighed and walked over to me. He took the cigarette out of my hand and put it in the ashtray on the bureau.
He took me by the hand and then pushed me down on the bed. I lay there looking up at him, wondering. I couldn't read the look on his face. He turned off the light by me. In the dark, I heard him walk around the bed and get in. After he pulled the covers over both of us, he drew me into his arms and whispered in my ear.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, Nick."
Chapter 11
137 Hartford Street
Sunday, December 20, 1953
8 in the morning
The next morning, I heard the doorbell ring. I looked at my watch and the time was 8 right on the nose.
I turned over and saw that Carter was still asleep. I got up, pulled on my trousers and shirt from the night before, and padded down the stairs to see who it was.
Sam was walking from the front door through to the kitchen carrying a box of food. I followed him and found Mrs. Kopek standing over the stove.
Neither was aware of my presence. I heard Sam say something to Mrs. Kopek who laughed and said something else in reply. And they weren't speaking English.
I backed up slowly and made my way upstairs, into the bedroom, and closed the door behind me. I sat down on the bed and pushed on Carter's arm. "Wake up."
He turned and looked at me. "What?"
"Mrs. Kopek is here."
He rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Really?"
"Yeah. And she brought a mountain of food."
"Good. I'm starving."
"Me, too. Only thing is." I paused and tried to figure out the implications of what I'd heard. "She and Sam are down there talking in Polish."
Carter looked at me and I shrugged.
. . .
The table was covered with food. There were stacks of flapjacks, a big bowl of steaming scrambled eggs, and a plate of sausage links. Mrs. Kopek was standing over the stove cooking bacon. Sam was sitting at the table digging in as if he hadn't eaten in a week.
We stood there for a moment in shock. Finally, I said, "Good morning." Mrs.
Kopek turned and smiled at me.
"Yes. Good morning. Such sleepyheads!"
We both sat down at the kitchen table. Once everyone else was eating, Mrs. Kopek made a plate for herself and sat down to join us.
Everything, of course, was delicious. The sausages were rich and spicy, so Carter was eyeing his cautiously while he was eating the flapjacks. After watching him for a moment, I reached over and speared the sausage on his plate for myself.
I turned to Mrs. Kopek and said, "Carter doesn't like garlic."
She turned her head. "No garlic?" She shrugged in disbelief and then took a forkful of scrambled eggs.
"When did you get here this morning?" I asked.
Mrs. Kopek said, "I take cab and bring breakfast as thanks. I hope you no mind."
I shook my head and looked at Carter who was about to shovel another big bite of flapjacks. He said, "No, ma'am. Thanks for the breakfast."
She nodded and smiled. After taking a drink of her coffee, she sighed. "Oh, Tobias will be very angry when I tell him."
Sam said, "Then don't tell him."
She smiled at him indulgently. "I never lie to Tobias." She wagged her finger at Sam. "Never lie to the one you love. No good."
I looked at Carter who looked back at me. He looked as confused as I was.
. . .
When were done eating, Carter stood up and said, "Sam and I will do the dishes." He looked at me significantly and I took the hint. That would give me time to talk with Mrs. Kopek. I really loved that Carter was beginning to think in these ways, because he was right.
I stood up and said, "Mrs. Kopek, can I show you the Christmas tree we put up last night?"
She looked around. "Is OK to let them wash the pretty dishes? They no break?"
I smiled. "They'll do fine. Please." I gestured towards the sitting room.
She nodded and walked on through as I followed behind her.
Once we were by the tree, I plugged in the lights. It was another cloudy and rainy day, so the lights were a bright contrast to an otherwise gloomy room.
She sighed. "So pretty."
I said, "Yeah. My mother had great taste."
"Your mother? She do this?" Mrs. Kopek looked around the room as if she was expecting to see my mother pop out of a closet.
"She bought a set just like them when I was a child. Carter managed to track these down, which was a big surprise to me."
Mrs. Kopek looked at me. "Where your mother?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. She left in '29 and never came back."
The older woman nodded and then turned to watch the lights and admire the ornaments. "So sad when they leave and you not know why." There was so much melancholy in her words that I wondered if she was talking about Ike or someone else.
I sighed. "Yeah."
We stood there for another long moment. I asked, "Would you like to have a seat? I have a couple of questions for you."
She turned, walked over to the sofa, and made herself at home. I sat down in one of the armchairs.
I asked, "Besides your husband's cousin, who else from Petervald is in San Francisco?"
She put her hand to her mouth and made some remark in Polish. "How?" She shook her head.
I was trying to get her to admit that she knew Sam, but something in her reaction made me realize she was thinking of someone else. "Who is it?" I asked.
She shook her head more quickly this time. "No. I no tell you."
"You know I have to go to the police and tell them what I know."
Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks turned pink. "You know nothing. Only suspicions." She jutted out her chin. "You know nothing at all."
"What about Ivan? He's in jail for something he didn't do."
I thought she was going to stand up and leave. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had. But she sat there, looking at me, as if daring me to say something else. So, I did.
"Did you kill the man on Lombard Street?"
This time she stood up and spat on the floor. After saying a string of words in Polish that sounded like curses, she gathered herself together and walked quickly into the kitchen. After a series of volleys in Polish with Sam, she came back through the sitting room, opened the door, slammed it closed, and was gone. I sat there wondering which particular button I had just pushed.
Sam came into the sitting room as I was standing up. "What did you ask her?"
"Whether she killed the man in the house."
Sam's eyes narrowed and he walked towards me. He menacingly asked, "You did what?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carter standing in the doorway watching us. I crossed my arms. "I didn't accuse her of anything. I just asked her if she did it. I know she didn't."
Sam pointed at the door and heatedly said, "How dare you do such a thing? That lady is one of the finest women I've ever known."
"And how long have you known her, Sam?"
Sam's eyes began to dart around the room. I very subtly motioned to Carter who crossed and stood next to Sam. He quickly looked up and then away. Sam's jaw clenched and he began to mutter in some language other than English.
Carter asked, "What's going on here?"
I thought for a moment and said, "I think Sam is probably Mrs. Kopek's…" I paused and thought. "Her best friend from school? Or a man she once dated until he or she or both of them discovered he was only interested in men. Something like that."
Sam let out a big sigh and nodded. "Yeah. We grew up together in Petervald." I noticed that he pronounced the name of the town in the right way.
I asked, "So, your last name isn't really Halversen?"
"Sure it is. My grandparents moved from Sweden to Ostrava during the Austrian Empire. Then my father bought a store in Petervald and ran that until he died in '37. My mother was Polish, well Silesian, really. But, yeah. I'm from there."
Carter asked, "What about your accent? You don't have one."
Sam looked up and smiled. "I've always been good at languages. Besides Polish, I also speak Swedish, German, French, Russian, and Czech. If things were different, I guess you would call me a 'cunning linguist.'"
Both Carter and I laughed.
. . .
"I left Czechoslovakia when I was 17. First I went to Moscow where all the fun was happening. I ain't no Red, but I wanted to find out what it was all about, you know? Do you know who Sergei Eisenstein was?"
Both of us shook our heads.
"He was a Soviet movie director. I worked on his first big film called Strike." Sam smiled at the memory. "Not in front of the camera. No foreigners allowed. But I helped with lights and the sets." He moved his head from side to side. "If you could call them sets." He smiled for a moment. "That was a wonderful time. So much freedom." He leaned in a bit and grinned. "I was constantly fucking one guy or another the whole time I was in Moscow."
Sam was sitting in the armchair closest to the kitchen while we were on the sofa. He leaned back and sighed. "But then there was a crackdown on foreigners so I made my way to Trieste and signed up on a ship and that's how I got here. We even went through the Panama Canal. It was fun." He paused. "For a while."
He was lost in thought for a moment. We both waited. Finally, he said, "Eventually, I became an American citizen." He stood up and walked over to the Christmas tree. He put his hands in the pockets of his new khaki trousers. Carter noticed me admiring his physique from the rear and gave me a small dig in the ribs with his elbow.
"I'd been here about twelve years and then one day I was walking down Turk Street and I see a familiar face walking towards me. It was Anna. And she was walking with Tobias. I ducked into the doorway of a building and let them pass. I knew she saw me but he didn't, which was good. And they had a boy who was walking next to Anna, holding her hand. After they had walked by, I followed them to the door of their apartment building. Once they walked in, I looked at the directory and, sure enough, it says 'T. Kopek 5-R' right there, big as life."
He sighed. Carter opened his mouth a
nd I shook my head. My rule is to let the witness tell the story. You find out more that way.
"So, I hung around and watched them for a while. I realized Tobias had bought that Maryland Market at the corner and was working there during the day. I saw Anna walk Ivan to school every morning. One day, after she was back from school and Tobias was at the market, I rang the buzzer. When she answered I said, in Polish, 'It's your goody bear.' That was her nickname for me when we were kids. I looked like a stuffed bear when I was young." He turned and looked at us with a smile on his face. He patted his flat belly. "That's why I built this body." He moved his left hand up and down as though he was demonstrating a vacuum cleaner.
We both nodded and listened and waited.
Moving over to the front window, he looked outside into the steady rain and said, "So, I go over there now and then when Tobias is at work and we have coffee. Anna told me about that damn Zbigniew Korkowski and how he'd bought out the family farm from them. I never believed any of it. I knew him. We all grew up together. He was always playing the angles." He muttered something in Polish and turned around to face us.
I asked, "When did you figure out that this was the guy that Ike was shacking up with?"
Sam huffed in disgust. "As soon as I saw his face. He hadn't aged well." He rolled back and forth on his feet. "When Tobias got the letter from the Governor of Silesia, I'm the one who translated it into Polish for Anna. I couldn't believe what I was reading." He laughed. "Ain't it a kick in the ass that it was the conscientious German overlord who made the truth known? I laugh about that every time I think of it."
He walked over and sat back down in the armchair. Looking at me like the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he said, "Now let me tell you about meeting Ivan."
I nodded.
"We met in April at the baths next door to Sugar Joe's. I knew who he was as soon as I saw him. I'd watched him grow up. Anna would show me his latest picture every time she had one. And, of course, he has that scar. Makes him so handsome." He rubbed his hands together as if he was cold and then jumped up again. Walking back over to the Christmas tree, he continued, "At first, I didn't know what to do. He approached me. I'm just the right kinda John for him. Course I don't have that kinda money and he figured that out fast. So, for a couple of months we'd sit in the steam room and talk if we were alone. Then I took him out to dinner. Nothing fancy. But it was a date. At least for me."
The Savage Son (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 6) Page 10