Innocence Lost

by Sherilyn Decter

  “Now, we’re going to get it up and running again very soon, but I need to make sure that there are no more rats. Stoolies are bad for business. So I need to do it in a way that shows other people that it would be a bad idea to talk to the police, very bad. Provide a bit of motivation to keep their yaps shut. You see my problem? I need to set an example.”

  It’s like he’s a regular businessman, not a kidnapper, murderer, and bootlegger. Keep the tears rolling? Play an Edith card? I can do this. I’m not dead yet.

  “And I can’t let you go. Which is too bad. Really.” Mickey shrugs.

  Not dead… yet.

  “Although Edith’ll be cracked up when she hears about your accident. I expect she’ll get over it, though. She’s a tough cookie, or at least she used to be.”

  “No, I have a son. Please. Tommy needs me.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we can find a place for Tommy. A bright lad like him. Say, hows about this? Just so you don’t worry, I’ll give Tommy to Edith to look after. Edith’s crazy about kids. It’d make her happy, and you could go knowing a good friend is looking out for him.”

  That’s just crazy. “Mr. Duffy, I won’t say anything. I don’t know anything. Why would you want to hurt me? It will only hurt Edith. Why don’t you let me go?”

  Mickey turns to Henry Mercer, who is standing close by. “Okay, that sounds like a plan. Now, what to do about Kelly?”

  Joe’s still alive. For now. Mickey can be arrested for my murder. He and Fanny can look after Tommy. Or Mother. She’d step in.

  “Look, Mickey,” Henry says. “If you really think you need to, poppin’ off a dame is one thing. But you can’t plug a cop, for God’s sake. Sure, we might make a good show of it during those phoney raids, but Mickey, for real? Cop killers attract a lot of attention. And that’ll be bad for business. You know what I’m sayin’?”

  “So, you’re telling me that we’re going to bump this skirt off and let the cop, the real rat, walk? That hardly seems fair,” Mickey says. “I’m telling you. It’s all screwed up. The cop walks and Edith’s friend dies.”

  “I dunno, Mickey. Why waste your time with her? The dame’s not a threat. Maybe just slap her around a bit? Kelly’s the real problem. Pluggin’ her would probably just make sure he came gunning for you,” Henry says.

  I’m not going to die without a fight.

  “Remember that night at the house, Mickey? I was there for Edith. When she needed me. And the next day. And I went over to be with her when you were arrested, so she wouldn’t be alone. You can’t do this to her. I’m one of the few friends she’s got.” Maggie pleads with Mickey.

  He walks away. Several of his closest follow him up the stairs to the office.

  Now what? Oh, where is the Inspector? The gag is yanked back over her mouth.

  * * * *

  Frank is in the front room of Maggie’s house. She’s at the warehouse but, in his current form, he can’t help her. And he needs to get help to her, fast.

  The front door slams and Tommy comes in, “Ma?” He walks past the doorway to the living room and into the kitchen. “Mother?” Frank hears the icebox door open and close. He goes into the kitchen.

  Tommy grabs himself a leftover chicken leg.

  Frank moves close to Tommy. He pictures Maggie tied to the chair in the warehouse. He focuses on Duffy standing over her shouting. Frank imagines all the things that Mickey and his gang could be doing to Maggie, and gathering all those fears together, he blows in Tommy’s face.

  Tommy drops the chicken leg and stiffens. The kitchen curtains flutter. The wave of alarm has reached him. “Mother?” he asks hesitantly, looking around the kitchen. “Mother, are you home?”

  Frank imagines a cold dark place that could be Maggie's grave, and blows that image at Tommy. He imagines the dampness and the earthy smell. The rough texture of the pine box. Frank is startled, momentarily losing his concentration. It is his own grave he is remembering. That sharpens his dread even more as he sends another blast at Tommy.

  The cups on the counter rattle in their saucers. Tommy turns and looks around the kitchen. “Hello, is someone here? Constable Kelly?”

  Frank focuses.

  “Weird.” Tommy rubs the back of his head. “No cookies. No note. Maaaa?” Tommy yells.

  Frank releases another blast. Pain. Fear. Panic. The cups fall, smashing on the floor.

  Tommy races upstairs. “Mother? Constable Kelly? Where are you?” Doors open and slam shut.

  Frank sends a bit more terror his way, and Tommy runs out of the house, slamming the front door. He races in the direction of the police station.

  Frank, clutching his hat to the top of his head, runs beside him, sending dire thoughts into Tommy. They weave between pedestrians on the sidewalk “Hey.” Random people shout. “Look out,” voices call. Tommy is oblivious to the horns blaring and fist-shaking wagon drivers.

  Tommy runs up the police precinct’s front steps and bursts through the door. Frank follows closely.

  “Whoa there, young fella,” says the uniformed officer that Tommy has just plowed into.

  “Sir, I need to speak to Constable Joe Kelly right away. It’s a matter of life and death,” he gasps.

  “Now you just sit here, son, and catch your breath. Then you can tell me all about it.”

  “There’s no time. My mother’s in danger. Constable Kelly is my friend and he’ll know what to do.”

  Tommy struggles against the restraining hold of the officer. “Now hang on there, you can’t just go barging into the squad room. And I don’t even know whether Kelly is at the station. He was downtown at the courthouse all morning. I don’t know if he got back yet.”

  Tommy starts yelling for Joe.

  “You calm down right now, hear?” The policeman gives Tommy a shake. “You sit yourself down and I’ll see if I can find him.”

  Joe rounds the corner. “What’s all the commotion—Tommy what are you doing here, pal? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s Mother. She’s not home, and she’s always home, or there’s a note. And then the cups fell off the counter. I have a really bad feeling, Constable Kelly. I think that something really awful happened to her.”

  Joe’s stomach does a slow roll. Maggie never did show at the courthouse. “Would she be late coming home from some errands?”

  “No,” Tommy shouts. He shoves Joe. “Something’s wrong, you’re not listening to me.”

  “Okay Tommy, be calm, son. We’ll find out what's happened. You go back to the house and wait for her there, just in case she’s late getting home. Hopefully, she’s already back and getting supper started. I’ll go check a few places and talk to some people. If she does come home, you run to the grocery store and call the precinct. They’ll let me know she’s home safe. I’ll keep searching until I hear from you, I promise you. I’ve got this.”

  Tommy hugs Joe around the waist.

  Frank watches Tommy leave the precinct. Joe whips around to a fellow officer, “Hey Bill, do we have any motorbikes in the garage? I need to sign one out for a few hours.”

  The desk officer grabs a clipboard in his hands. “There are two in the garage. Sign here.”

  Joe runs over to the garage and jumps on the back of the motorbike. He stands up and kicks down on the pedal. The engine roars to life and he takes off in the direction of the warehouse.

  * * * *

  Maggie’s been dreaming of Tommy and Jack. Sleeping sitting up. Or maybe she has been killed? She’s not sure. The metal stairs echo; a procession of men, led by Mickey Duffy, come down the stairs. He nods to the man behind her, who yanks the gag lower. Maggie tries to gather a bit of spit to moisten her mouth and get rid of the rough cotton threads that coat her tongue.

  “Change of plan, Mrs. Barnes. You’d better go along with this, ‘cause you’re out of options. One, you were shopping. Or, two, you decided to go to the pictures. You were any place other than here.”

  Maggie nods, eyes wide
in disbelief.

  “And another thing. I want you to keep being friends with Edith. She likes you. But you pretend this never happened; a bad dream, okay. No way Edith should ever find out. It’s business, not personal. Understand? If she wants me and her to go out dancing with you, you will go. You will never tell anyone of this afternoon.”

  Maggie stares at him. It’s like he is dismissing me from a job interview. He’s so calm. Reasonable. “Yes, I understand.”

  “I’m letting you off so that you can take a message back to that nosey cop. Make sure that Kelly understands that there are no more leaks, you hear?” says Mickey.

  He leans in close, “Be real careful how you do that or I’ll make sure your next lodger is the kind of guy who really watches over you and your kid.”

  Maggie gulps, her face pale. Mickey barks behind him to Gus and Fingers. “Take Mrs. Barnes home.” He tips his hat to her and walks away.

  “You’re a lucky broad,” Fingers says as he helps her into the back seat of the car. “Yup, one lucky broad.”

  “The guy’s nuts about Edith. Do anything for her,” says Gus.

  Mickey watches as Maggie is driven away. He turns to Henry, standing behind him. “Never mix broads with business, Mercer. It’s a real headache.” He sighs, shaking his head.

  * * * *

  Joe parks the motorbike in the alleyway behind the warehouse and stands on a pile of wooden boxes to peer in a window. The place is deserted. He sees the chair with the dangling ropes, but there is no sign of either Maggie or Duffy. Joe walks around to the front of the building and gives the doors a good tug. They're locked tight. The place is deserted.

  Fearing the worst, Joe climbs back on the motorcycle. He’ll take a swing past Duffy’s house, and then check on Tommy.

  Chapter 52

  M aggie sees Tommy peering out the front window as she gets out of the car. She hurries up the steps as he barrels out the front door. “Mother,” he yells, rushing into her outstretched arms. “I was so scared. Where were you?”

  Maggie kisses her son on the top of his head and looks at Frank, who is waiting just inside the door, beaming.

  “Ouch,” she says. “Not too tight, son. I slipped and hurt my back a bit.”

  “Your face is scratched and red. And your hands,” he says.

  “I put my hands down when I fell, but not fast enough,” she says.

  Tommy releases her as Joe’s motorcycle screeches to a halt. “Maggie! Thank you Mary, Mother of God. Where have you been?” Joe shouts.

  “Oh my goodness, you fellas. Silly me for losing track of the time. I was out running an errand. And when I knew I was going to be late, I hurried and slipped. I’m sorry you were worried, but I’m home safe and sound now.”

  Maggie leads her little parade into the house. “And goodness, you’ve missed your supper. You must all be starving. How about I get you something to eat? Are you hungry? Is Mr. Mansfield home from school yet? And Mr. Smith, is he here?” Oh no, poor Eugene Smith. I think I’m going to be sick. She staggers slightly, thinking of his murder.

  “Are you okay, Mother?”

  “Like I said, I slipped and hurt my back. That’s why I’m so late. I sat a while at a stranger’s house and waited until I felt a bit better.”

  “They were real nice to bring you home in their car,” says Tommy.

  “They sure were,” says Maggie.

  “I’m sorry you were worried today, sweetie. I’ll make sure that it won’t happen again.”

  “I’m okay, Mother. When you weren’t here, I just got rattled for some reason. It reminded me of when Oskar disappeared, which got me thinking about guns and the river.”

  “That’s some imagination you have, Tommy,” she says.

  Tommy sits happily at the kitchen table, finishing the piece of fried chicken from earlier. He keeps looking at his mother, reassuring himself that she is there and safe. Joe is also at the table, watching her. Frank leans against the back door and gives Maggie a relieved smile.

  Keep it normal for Tommy’s sake. Maggie avoids the looks of Frank and Joe, chatting on about a dress pattern she has seen on her imaginary errand. Habit gets her through preparing a quick dinner. Tommy’s not long finished his chicken leg, and there’s supper on the table.

  Tommy’s loud burp earns him a disapproving look from his mother and a grin from Joe. “I’m so glad you’re home, Mother. I knew you were okay, but Constable Kelly was worried.”

  Joe laughs and gives him a wink. “You gotta watch out for the ladies when they get shopping, Tommy. It’s easy for them to get lost and lose track of time in those big department stores.”

  Tommy gives his mother another tight hug and heads off into the living room to listen to his favorite radio adventure. Frank takes Tommy’s chair, while Joe starts clearing the table. With the sound of the radio drama’s intro music swelling, Joe leans in close to Maggie. “So, what really happened? Tommy came tearing into the police station saying that you were in danger. The shops aren’t open this late. The truth this time, Maggie.”

  Maggie starts filling the sink with warm, sudsy water. “I’ll tell you everything in a minute. But first, tell me what happened in the courtroom. How’d Mickey get off?”

  “Oh, you heard about that, did you? It was a giant farce,” Joe says. “There was no sign of Eugene or the list. Both have disappeared.”

  Maggie chokes back a sob. “Oh Joe, I think he’s killed Eugene. Or had him killed.”

  “What?”

  “In a minute. I want to know what happened in court.”

  Joe gives her a level look, but continues. “It was pretty much what you’d expect. Without any evidence, the DA wasn’t able to bring forward a case. The Judge quickly threw everything out the window. Duffy had the gall to tip his hat to me and wink as he walked past me and out of the courtroom. Cheeky bastard.”

  Joe puts the dishes in the sink, and turns to Maggie. “Your turn. Where were you? What happened? Why do you think Eugene is dead? What did it have to do with Duffy?”

  “Mickey Duffy wanted to talk with me, about those pages. He had me grabbed, right off the street.”

  “Damnit.” Joe says. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

  “I’m fine, just sore. He really didn’t lay a finger on me. But I was tied up. He talked about Eugene like he was dead. He knows you and I are involved in finding those pages. Someone’s been talking to him about what happens at the precinct. Joe, he was going to kill me. Then he decided ‘dames’ aren’t that smart and since I was Edith’s friend, he let me go. But not before he gave me a warning and a message for you to keep your nose out of his business. And he made it clear that it will be dangerous for Tommy and me if you don’t.”

  Frank glowers at her from the table. “Maggie, no more risks. This time you were lucky, but next time?”

  Joe grips the counter. “That bastard. Sorry for the cussing, Maggie, but he hurt you. The man’s dangerous. Look, I wouldn't put you or Tommy at risk for the world, you must believe that. But I can't let Mickey get away with everything he's done: the racketeering, the bootlegging, the bombs, the violence. He’s bribing cops and judges, threatening witnesses. He probably had Eugene killed. Heck, for all we know, he was the one that tossed wee Oskar in the river.”

  Joe turns his back on Maggie, his hands curled into fists at his side. “I’m going to have this out with him. He can’t threaten you.”

  “And then what happens to Tommy and me? After you and Mickey have this big showdown?”

  Joe turns to the doorway, leaving. “I’ve gotta go.”

  Maggie puts a hand gently on Joe’s back to stop him. “Joe wait, let’s think this through. I’m not frightened, and I’m not going to let him scare me off. But he has managed to get away with everything because he has all of Philadelphia in his pocket.”

  Maggie can feel the muscles in Joe’s back stiffen. “What would happen if you only pretend to look the other way? And we wait for him to make another mistake.”

&n
bsp; “I’m no coward, Maggie. I don’t run from a fight.” Joe turns and rests his hands on Maggie’s shoulders. He looks at her sternly. “And what’s this ‘we’ business? You’re not getting into the middle of this, Maggie Barnes. Me claiming credit for those pages was to keep you and Tommy safe. You can’t keep putting yourself in harm’s way. One day you’ll run out of luck.”

  “I’m already in the middle of it,” says Maggie. “More than you know. But we’re smarter than Mickey. He’s got a soft spot. And if he thinks he’s won and you’re cooperating, he’ll get sloppy. He’s going to make a lot more mistakes as he gets cockier.”