Speak Easy

by Melanie Harlow

  Eventually, we reached some unlit docks along the river. I saw no one around. Harry pulled up and tied the boat to a post. After jumping onto the wooden platform, he reached down for me and I was forced to give him my arms. He yanked me roughly to my feet like a small child and marched me to a dark-colored Chevrolet. Opening the door, he shoved me in the back seat. “Lie down back there and be quiet. I don’t have any problem taking you out of this, so you better behave.” He slid into the driver’s seat, placing his gun and my purse beside him, and started the car.

  Could I reach the gun? Not without his catching on to me. I lay back across the seat, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I was trapped.

  #

  After an endless drive on horribly bumpy roads that made my head feel as if someone was beating it with a crowbar, Harry slowed the car. I sat up and looked out the window at a small dilapidated cabin, lit only by the Chevrolet’s headlamps. Panicked, I searched for other houses but saw nothing—just woods. The headlamps went off, and blackness enveloped us. Harry spoke over his shoulder. “No use screaming, so keep your mouth shut. I don’t like girl noise.”

  He put his gun in his coat and got out. When he opened my door, he locked his fingers around my upper arm and dragged me toward the cabin. I’d have a bruise tomorrow for sure. If I have a tomorrow. He led me up a few creaky wooden steps to a lopsided porch and knocked on the front door—a rhythmic series of long and short staccato beats.

  “That’s not the knock,” complained a voice from inside.

  “Shut your mouth and open the fucking door, you idiot,” shouted Harry. “I’ve got her.”

  The door opened, revealing a sparsely furnished room with a plank floor. Ahead of me, a beat-up brown sofa was against the wall. A square table and two mismatched kitchen chairs were off to the left, and in the low light of a few kerosene lanterns, I saw the dim outline of crude bathtub gin equipment in the corner. The door slammed behind us, and lurking there in the shadows was Raymond DiFiore. “Hiya, doll. Glad to see me?”

  “No.” I narrowed my eyes at him, then looked around for Enzo. If he’d set me up, I was going to kick him in the balls, and then kill him. I was pretty sure Raymond would let me.

  “Where do you want her?” Harry asked, releasing his grip on my arm.

  “How much she have on her?”

  “Didn’t count it yet.” Harry pulled the wad of bills out of his pants pocket.

  Raymond snatched it. “I wanna count it.” Harry rolled his eyes but allowed Raymond to shuffle through the bills. “Fifty-six hundred,” Raymond announced proudly.

  “Wrong,” I said. “There’s only five grand there, you idiot. It’s what I owe your father.”

  “Don’t make funna me!” he yelled in my face. “You should be nice. I told Harry not to hurt you. And I sent you a present.” He huffed. “I’ll count it again.”

  A present? The realization turned my stomach. The necklace. Raymond had stolen the necklace from Enzo’s apartment and sent it to me. But why?

  He parsed through the stack of bills with an agonizing lack of haste as I shuddered, disgusted that I had worn a gift from this jerk. And I didn’t see how it made sense. He’d stolen from his own brother? Maybe Enzo isn’t involved.

  “Yep. About Five G’s.” Raymond looked pleased with himself and pocketed some cash.

  “Hey, gimme some too,” demanded Harry.

  Raymond looked put out, but he handed Harry a few bills and tamped the rest of it together. “Should I put this behind the pishmission?”

  “Partition! Partition! How many goddamn times I gotta tell you how to say that word!” shouted Harry. “And it’s not a partition, it’s just a wall. You drive me fuckin’ crazy.” He grabbed the money from Raymond. “Move the sofa.”

  Raymond did as he was told, revealing a removable panel in the wall. Behind it was a stash of guns, booze, and cash. My insides twisted painfully—this was an elaborate setup. What did they want with me?

  Harry shut the panel and moved the sofa back in place. “Now where should I put her? In the bedroom?”

  “Yeah. For now.” Raymond looked at me, a glint in his eye. “I think you’ll like it there, got a little surprise for you.”

  “Wait a minute.” I dug my heels in before Harry could drag me away. “Why are you keeping me here? What do you want?”

  “What everyone wants, doll,” said Raymond with a ghoulish leer. “A piece of the pie.”

  “And since no one was gonna give us any, we decided to serve ourselves.” Harry laughed obnoxiously before giving me a shove down a short hallway to our left. He opened a door and pushed me through it, pulling it closed behind him.

  The room was dark and fetid. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a bed in front of me.

  Someone was on it.

  I gasped, and the person moved. At least it’s not a dead body, I thought with temporary relief. But was it one of them? Pressing my back to the door, I stiffened. “Who’s there?”

  The person sat up. “Tiny?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was Daddy.

  Relief flooded me and I rushed toward him, my throat closing up. Our reunion wasn’t joyful, exactly, but it was as happy as we had ever been to see one another. We embraced the best we could with one of his hands cuffed to a metal bed frame and my wrists tied together. I leaned into him, weeping on his chest, and he squeezed me with one arm. His shirt smelled terrible, but I didn’t care.

  “They kept telling me they were going to hurt you,” he said, sniffling a little. I hadn’t seen him cry since my mother died. “Are the girls all right?”

  “They didn’t hurt me,” I lied, hoping it was too dark for him to see the bruise on my head. When I sat up, I let my hair fall over it, just in case. “And everyone is fine. I had Bridget take them out of town. But what’s going on? Why’d they bring us here?” I attempted to wipe my nose with the back of one bound hand, but it was difficult.

  “I’ve no idea. For days I was kept in a basement room somewhere, and then in the middle of last night I was blindfolded, cuffed, and brought here. Who are they?”

  “The dark one is Raymond DiFiore, Angel’s son. The other is his pal, Harry.” I glanced toward the door and lowered my voice. “Do you think they did this behind Angel’s back?”

  “Why do it this way otherwise?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they just wanted the rest of the ransom money for themselves. But why kidnap me?”

  Daddy’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Tiny. This is all my fault. I should’ve never ignored those black hand letters asking for payment.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have.” A spark of anger shot through me. “Especially not after Vince. You know what these guys are capable of.”

  He straightened up a little. “I know, but it’s never been like this! A man could make his money the way he wanted to, without paying up to anybody.”

  “Those days are over, Daddy,” I said, recalling what Joey told me about independent bootleggers. “Everybody pays up now.” A glance out the lone window revealed no sign of dawn. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and the four walls seemed to close in on me. How had things gone so wrong? Just hours ago I was standing naked in my bedroom next to Enzo. A little hope nibbled at my despair. Maybe he can help us.

  I took a breath. “Angel’s older son, Enzo, came to see me today.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a gang hijacked a shipment of rum he had sent from New York, and he wondered if I was behind it.”

  “Why would he think that?”

  “Because the guy who was behind it, Sam Scarfone and the River Gang, used your hearses to transport the load. A few men were killed.”

  “What! Jesus Christ, Tiny!” The cuffs rattled against the metal bed frame as Daddy got agitated. “Why the hell did he have my hearses?”

  The ropes chaffed my wrists as I jerked my arms around in frustration. “Because I gave them to him. I had to, so he’d allow me to get the whisky I needed to make the ransom mon
ey. See, Sam and the River Gang control bootlegging on the water now,” I said bitterly. “You want to smuggle whisky from Canada, you’re gonna pay him for the privilege.”

  His shoulders squared. “The hell with that!”

  Unbelievable. “That attitude is what got us into trouble in the first place! This is how it is now—you want to run booze, you’re gonna have to pick a side and pay up.” I had to whisper, but my tone was raw with ferocity.

  Daddy scratched his face, which was covered with days-old beard growth. “What’s Joey say?”

  “Joey made his choice. He’s working for Scarfone, and right now he’s in Chicago trying to unload that stolen rum. He’s the one who gave me the last five grand to spring you, which is now in Harry and Raymond’s stash.”

  “Jesus. Musta been a big load.”

  “It was. Not only of rum, but opium too, which I don’t think Scarfone knew.” But just then I realized he might have known the whole time. Maybe that’s why he wanted that shipment so badly. “But we’re not lining up behind the River Gang. I made a deal with Enzo.”

  Daddy jerked his chin at me. “What kind of deal?”

  “In exchange for their leaving our family alone, I promised to get some information out of Joey, just enough for Enzo to get back what he lost in that heist.”

  He was silent a minute. “So then we should line up behind Scarfone—at least, we should make it look like it.”

  Was he right? I supposed so, although the duplicity involved made my skin crawl. One false move in either direction could land Daddy—or me—in big trouble.

  “But we’ve got to get out of here first,” he went on. “If we can escape the cabin, do you know how to get back to the city?”

  “No. We’d need a car. We’re way out of town.” Sitting up taller, I made a decision. “I’m gonna ask them what they want. I can’t stay trapped like this.”

  “No!” The cuffs rattled on the bed frame. “Don’t go out there alone. They might hurt you.”

  “They could have done it already. I don’t think that’s what they want.” I stood up and tried the door. Unlocked. Squinting at the light, I walked into the front room.

  “Hey, who told ya you could come out?” asked Raymond. He and Harry were sitting at the table, counting all the cash I’d seen behind the panel.

  “Enjoy the reunion?” Harry snickered.

  “Listen,” I said. “You got the money. What else do you want?”

  “We’re still thinking about that.” Raymond got to his feet and stretched. His bulky chest strained against his shirt, which probably used to be white but was now grayish with yellowed underarms. It was amazing how someone who looked so much like Enzo could disgust me so much. “My first idea was to take your money and buy some dope to sell. I’m tired of being cut out of all the deals my father and brother make.”

  “But you’re stealing from your own family.”

  Raymond shrugged. “I was gonna give it back—after I doubled it. They’re gonna see how I can be a…asset to the operation.”

  I marveled at the backward logic. “I’m not sure this is the right way to do it.”

  “Nobody asked you, slut,” said Harry. “So shut the fuck up.”

  “Don’t call her that!” Raymond snapped. He moved toward me and I backed up. “Things are different now,” he continued. “Harry told me about the hijacking, and we figure that those hearses were the very same ones we saw at your pop’s garage. So now that I’ve got you too, I’ll make a new plan. Figure out how to use you to my best perantage.”

  “Advantage.” Harry shook his head. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ stupid.”

  “Shut up!” screamed Raymond, his face mottling with rage. He put his hands to his head and grabbed two fistfuls of black hair. “Stop calling me stupid all the time!”

  “Then quit saying stupid fucking things,” Harry said calmly. He didn’t even look up from the cash.

  “You know what,” seethed Raymond, nostrils flaring. “I’m fuckin’ done with you.” With that, he picked up a pistol lying on the table and fired five shots into Harry’s chest and head before I could even blink.

  The noise was deafening. I screamed as Harry’s body jerked and his chair went over backward. Daddy yelled “Tiny!” as my feet pounded down the hallway to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind me, I collapsed on the floor and crawled to the farthest wall, popping stitches in my dress. I opened my mouth to tell Daddy what happened but couldn’t speak. It was like someone was sitting on my chest—I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs, and my ears were ringing from the shots.

  “What?” Daddy kept saying. “What happened?”

  The bedroom door opened, and Raymond appeared. “I had to shut Harry up. I was sick of him.” He held up one finger. “And, he was mean. But this wasn’t in my plans, so now I have to think.” He shut the door, leaving us alone.

  I was numb. “He killed him. Shot him. Right there in the front room. I saw it,” I whispered. “I saw it.”

  “Listen, Tiny,” Daddy said, his voice steady. “I know this is hard, but don’t panic. I think you’re right—if he wanted us dead, he could have done it already. And now there’s only one of them but two of us. Let me think.”

  I was a quivering blob of jelly—I couldn’t think about anything but watching the life being jolted out of a human being. Sitting back against the wall, I hugged my arms to my chest and shivered. Daddy asked me about the roads we took to get here, the area outside, the distance I thought we’d driven, but I couldn’t answer any of his questions. From the front room we heard thumping and scraping and something being dragged across the floor. He’s getting rid of the body, I thought, bile rising in my throat. What if we’re next? My teeth began to chatter. I’m too young to die. I haven’t even lived yet. I never got to see New York or Paris or Enzo with all his clothes off. Would the silent, murky depths of this stinking cabin be the last place I’d see on earth?

  We had to get out. I didn’t care what it took.

  “Daddy,” I said quietly. “If I can convince Raymond to let you go and keep me, will you go?”

  “No! I’m not leaving you with that animal!” Daddy’s whisper was vicious.

  With difficulty, I got off the floor and sat next to him on the bed. “Listen to me. If he agrees, you go back to the city and find Enzo.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s not involved in this, and he’ll know what to do.”

  Daddy went silent, scratching his face again. “You trust him?”

  “I do right now.” It could all change tomorrow. “I just wish I could think of a way to get Raymond to trust me.”

  “You have to give him something he wants, make him think you’re on his side.”

  I shuddered.

  “You’re smarter than he is. Talk to him. Figure him out.”

  I chewed on my lip for a few minutes, thinking it over. I knew what he wanted and how his mind worked. All I had to do was convince him I had a way for him to impress his father and outdo his brother. After a while, a plan formed in my head, but it was risky. How far was I willing to go? “I’ve got an idea. If it works, you know what to do. I’m going to call him in here.”

  “What are you going to say?” Daddy sounded shocked.

  “Just go with it. And if it works, find Enzo as soon as possible.” I took a deep breath. “Raymond! Are you out there?”

  Heavy footfalls thumped down the hall. The bedroom door burst open. “Yeah?” Lit from behind with sickly yellow gaslight, he looked ominous, like a Hollywood monster. His shirt was even more disgusting now, smeared with Harry’s blood. My stomach turned.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  He cocked his head. “About what?”

  “About what you were saying…you know, making your own deals. Getting your own rackets and proving to your pop you can be an asset to him.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, we have an idea.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’
d seen Enzo make before, and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

  With a silent apology to Joey, I said, “I know who hijacked your shipment. I think you could get it back.”

  “How?”

  “Well, my friend Joe is working for Scarfone now. He was bragging to me just today that he’s guarding those loaded hearses in a warehouse until Sunday, and then they’re going to take them to Chicago. But I know where the warehouse is. We could steal back those hearses with the rum still in them. Imagine showing up at the club with all that booze. You’d be a hero.”

  “Yeah, I would.” He dropped his arms and stood straighter. “So where’s the warehouse?”

  “It’s near Eastern Market. But Joe’s not going to talk to you—you’d be shot if you even got close. However, he would talk to my father. You let him go, and he’ll approach Joe and convince him to steal it back for you.”

  “Why would your friend do that?” Raymond asked. “Scarfone will kill him.”

  “Because,” said Daddy. “He’s not going to have a choice. I know a lot of cops, and I’ll show up there with a few of them. They’ll do me the favor of cuffing him in exchange for a few cases of rum. Then me and a few guys drive the hearses to the club for you.”

  “Your pop will give you your own rackets for sure,” I said quickly, my voice oozing admiration, “maybe even the whole club.” I stood and sidled closer to him. “I heard he was going to give it to Enzo, but now that you’re the big time bootlegger, I bet he gives it to you. Then we’ll have that drink you promised me.”