She looked to John.
“Looks like you might have a patient,” Rachel said.
When John saw the couple, he smiled.
“No, that’s company,” he said as he stood up.
Rachel smiled too.
“Come on up here and cool your heels on the porch.”
Ed grinned.
“Believe I will,” he said as the smiling woman with the high cheekbones and darker skin followed.
“John, Rachel, I want you to meet my wife Lucy,” Ed said.
“You’re married?” Rachel asked.
“Down at the Fuson County Courthouse a few minutes ago,” Lucy said.
“Congratulations, both of you,” John said as Rachel hugged Lucy.
“I’m so happy for both of you,” she said. “Please, have a seat. I was gettin’ ready to fix a pitcher of lemonade. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be back with somethin’ cold for you,” Rachel said.
“Let me help,” Lucy said as they went inside.
John looked at Ed and smiled.
“Married huh?” He asked.
“I figured it was time to do the right thing for Lucy,” Ed said.
“How are things goin’?” John asked.
Ed chuckled.
“I got the U.S. Attorney and Treasury Department watchin’ every move I make. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re watchin’ me right now. The Milners have got me locked down tight. I still have money comin’ in through the dairy but there ain’t a day goes by we don’t have at least three truckloads of milk and eggs destroyed from them searchin’ for moonshine. Bank examiners in every day checkin’ records and scarin’ off customers — not to mention the constant threat of bein’ arrested for killin’ Uncle Elmer. In other words, ‘bout what you’d expect,” he said.
John shook his head grimly.
“Can I do anything to help?” He asked.
“I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to involve you John. You’re a respected doctor with a pregnant wife. You don’t need my troubles,” Ed said.
“And you don’t either. You’ve helped a lot of people. You’ve got friends willin’ to help,” John said.
“And I appreciate it, I really do. But the Milners will come after anybody who does try to help and they got the damn guv’ment backin’ their play. I’ve got a friend in Chicago and he’s got his own troubles with the Treasury Department. I have a friend in Boston and his only advice was to get out of the stock market as soon as I can,” Ed said.
“Did you? Get out of the market, I mean,” John said.
“Yeah. Dumped all of my stock but that was my biggest source of income. I’ve got a shitload of money but all I can do is hold onto it right now,” Ed said.
John started to speak when he saw a 1924 Oldsmobile roll to a stop behind Ed’s Ford. A man stepped out.
“Doc? Can I see you?” Junior asked.
“Be right back Ed — he’s the husband of a patient,” John said as Ed nodded.
When John got to the street, Junior looked up to him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your company Doc. But I wanted to give you this,” he said as he handed over five dollars. “And I’ll keep payin’ til I get it paid off.”
“Junior, I ain’t worried about it. Is Susan doin’ okay?” John asked.
“She’s fine. She would’ve come with me but she had some washin’ to finish before supper,” Junior said.
“I didn’t expect any postoperative problems but I’m glad to hear she’s doin’ well,” John said.
“I don’t mean to be nosey, but that feller on the porch, is that Ed Elkins?” Junior asked.
John stiffened slightly.
“Yes it is,” he said.
“He a friend of yourn?” Junior asked.
“Yes, he is — a good friend. We go way back. We fought in the Great War together. You recognize him from the newspapers?” John asked.
Junior shifted uncomfortably and acted as though he was torn on what to say next.
“Yeah, I do...but...uh,” he struggled to know what to say next.
“What is it Junior?” John asked anticipating a comment about the charges Ed faced.
Junior suddenly looked resolute and determined.
“Doc, you saved Susan’s life. I think I can help your friend,” he said.
John looked at him curiously.
“Go on,” he said as looked back to the porch and saw the ladies emerge with the lemonade.
“I work part time as a driver for Joe Milner...and I hear things,” Junior said.
“I’m listenin’,” John said.
“You know, Joe’s not a good man but he ain’t not too bad of a feller either. On the other hand, the old man and Lee...,” Junior’s voice trailed off.
“Real assholes,” John said.
Junior nodded.
“Doc, they’re just evil...and that Luttrell feller is just as bad,” he said.
“Well, I think we all had that idea. But I don’t see how that helps Ed,” John said.
“See if he can sneak somebody into the Majestic Hotel. Luttrell is staying on the third floor. Room 303 — that’s his room,” Junior said.
“Again, how does this help?” John asked.
“I’ve had to deliver stuff there...liquor...and...women. I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s best somebody see with their own eyes,” Junior said.
“Is it that bad?” John asked.
“You can’t even imagine,” Junior said.
John nodded.
“Tell you what Junior. This five dollars and what you just told me squares us,” he said.
“Just leave me out of it please,” Junior said.
“You have my word,” John said as he shook his hand.
John walked back to the porch as Junior pulled out.
“Happy patient?” Ed asked.
“We need to talk,” John said.
“Alright,” Ed said.
“But I need to get in touch with Bob first,” John said.
***
Bob grabbed a staff photographer as soon as he got the call from John. They caught the afternoon train to Crystal Springs. They could have driven but it would have taken an hour longer. The photographer was a good one — Clarence “Cotton” LeBeau, a stocky man who walked with a pronounced limp. The limp came courtesy of a German bullet that shattered his right shin at Belleau Wood.
A native of Clinton, Tennessee, Cotton had wavy short platinum blonde hair and a nose flattened one too many times in a brawl. He also had a three—inch scar over his left eye — a souvenir from a New York prostitute who tried robbing him.
In spite of his damaged appearance and gruff exterior, Cotton was easy going and friendly. He referred to himself as a “trouble magnet.”
“What am I gonna be shootin’ in Crystal Springs?” Cotton asked.
“Don’t rightly know but I’m told it will be big and possibly dangerous,” Bob said.
“Does Allen know?” Mutt asked.
“No — and don’t tell him until we’re done,” Bob said.
Cotton smiled a toothy smile. The yellow—stained dentures replaced the teeth he lost to both fighting and years of chewing tobacco and cigar smoking.
“You ain’t a reporter until you tell the editor to go to hell,” he said.
“We’re followin’ a tip and I don’t have time to tell Allen. Besides, if it pays off, he won’t care a bit,” Bob said.
“Yeah but if it don’t, you might wind up on the obit desk and I’ll be takin’ pictures of the damn garden club,” Cotton said. “Then again, some of them old ladies are kinda good lookin’. And all of ‘em can cook.”
Bob shook his head.
“You’re a strange man,” he said.
When they got to Crystal Springs, John met them at the depot. It was about an hour before dark. He hustled them to the car.
Bob noticed a couple of familiar faces getting off of the train behind him but said nothing to Cotton or John.
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“What’s all this about John?” Bob asked.
“Listen to me, we don’t have much time. What I’ve got to tell you I wanted to say it in the car — I don’t want to take a chance on anybody else hearin’ this,” John said as he turned off of Main Street onto Donahue.
“We’re listenin’,” Bob said.
“How good are you with that thing?” John asked.
“The best you’ll find around here,” Cotton said.
“He ain’t lyin’,” Bob said.
John then explained what Junior told him earlier.
“Our plan is to get someone in the room next to Luttrell. Somebody’s already cut a small hole in the wall. We need a photograph or photographs of whatever Luttrell is doin’ in there,” He said.
“Our plan? Who else is on this” Bob asked.
“The less you know, the better,” John said.
“So whenever he gets a photo of whatever is goin’ on in Luttrell’s hotel room I’ll have a great story that will likely ruin the career of the U.S. Attorney,” Bob said.
“That’s about the size of it,” John said.
“I enjoy exposin’ corruption as much as any reporter but I’ve gotta tell you, this makes me feel like one of the hacks from the Louisville Banner,” Bob said.
“There’s a difference Bob. You’re not settin’ anybody up. If what your brother heard is true, this has been goin’ on for some time and the Milners have been bribin’ a federal official to ruin a friend of yours. This guy has it comin’,” Cotton said.
John nodded.
“This ain’t the time to get righteous,” he said.
“Alright. Let’s nail his ass to the barn door,” Bob said.
***
Two of Ed’s men, Charlie — a lanky older man with a bald pate covered in liver spots — and A.C. — a middle aged man with gray hair and a pot belly — managed to get inside the motel and started up to the third floor.
Both were veterans — A.C. of the Great War and Charlie of the Spanish American War.
They wore the clothes of maintenance workers. Charlie carried a toolbox in his right hand and a broom in his left. A.C. carried what appeared to be a portrait wrapped in brown paper. They climbed up three flights of stairs. When they got to the room adjoining Luttrell’s they went inside and Charlie stepped to the window that overlooked the back alley. He waved his hand and in a few seconds, he heard the noise downstairs.
“Fire! Fire!” Someone shrieked.
“Smoke rose from one of the bottom rooms as the manager went room to room and evacuated the hotel. When the last person left the third floor, Charlie and A.C. stepped out into the hallway. A.C. picked the lock on the door Luttrell’s of room and went to work. Charlie took a mirror off of the wall. He and A.C. used hand drills to bore holes in the wall as well as the adjoining room. Charlie picked up a hammer and battered away a large round hole in the sheetrock. While A.C. swept up the debris, Charlie hung a new mirror on the wall. He picked up the old mirror along with the paper and the two of them walked out, making sure to lock the door behind them.
“Puttin’ it in was easier than stealin’ the mirror from that college buildin’,” A.C. said.
“I didn’t know they studied two-way mirrors in chemistry,” Charlie said.
“It’s untellin’ what they study at that college,” A.C. said.
They entered the room next door and Charlie stashed the mirror in the closet. He looked into the room next door.
“I don’t know what Ed plans on seein’ but he’ll get a good look at it,” Charlie said.
“Let’s get comfortable until whoever Ed is sendin’ shows up,” A.C. said.
***
“Take the weekly payment over to the greedy son of a bitch, for all the good it’s doing us,” Jeff said bitterly.
Lee opened the humidor and retrieved a cigar.
“We’re hurting Elkins. One of his people will squeal any day now and when they do...,” he slammed the humidor shut.
“You’ve been saying that for months now. He’s still sending moonshine up north and you’ve not shut down the first still yet,” Jeff said.
“He ain’t sending but just a tiny amount and it’s hard to track his stills. The people in Evans County — and even here in Fuson County — treat him like some kind of hero. They help him hide things and they warn him when we’re coming,” Lee said.
“And he made millions from the sale of his stocks,” Jeff complained.
“He might be making money but he can’t touch it as long as the IRS is hounding him. With him getting out of the market, he must be getting desperate,” Lee said.
Jeff grunted.
“Just make sure we take care of business. The last thing we want is leave him standing and able to get back at us,” he said.
Lee smiled confidently.
“He’s dead. He just don’t know it yet,” he said.
“Just make sure he knows it...and soon. I’m tired of waiting,” Jeff said.
Joe walked in.
“Do you have the payment?” He asked.
Jeff held up the envelope.
“Want me to deliver it?” Lee asked.
“I really don’t mind,” said Joe.
Jeff shrugged.
“Be sure and take a couple of the men with you. I don’t want anything happening to you or the money,” he said.
Lee walked over to the desk and picked up the candlestick phone. Holding the receiver to his ear with his left hand and the transmitter in his right, he gave the order.
“Tell Junior to get the car ready and have Digger ready to go with Joe,” he said and hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.
“I know Luttrell enjoys liquor and the company of young women. Don’t help him enjoy either too much,” Jeff said as Lee grinned and Joe reddened.
“Don’t let him get too tired to work tomorrow,” Lee said.
Joe nodded curtly and left with the envelope of money. Jeff opened the humidor and selected a cigar. He held it under his nose and appreciated its aroma for a couple of seconds.
“I’ll say this for Luttrell, he’s managed to bring Joe out of his social shell,” Jeff said.
“And all it took was a crooked lawyer with a taste for moonshine and whores. The rest of us just picked it up naturally,” Lee sneered.
“Be that as it may, it’s good for Joe to live life now that he’s old enough to sow some wild oats,” Jeff said as he lit the cigar. “But, still I worry that he’s a target for Elkins. Maybe you need to drop by and be sure the men are doing their job and not mixed up in the fun.”
Lee nodded.
“I’ll check on ‘em. If they’re loafing, I’ll jerk a knot in their sorry asses,” Lee said. “I kinda hope Junior is. I’d love to beat his ass and pay a call on his old lady. She’s a fine looking woman,” Lee said.
“If you can’t control your urges maybe you should find a whore of your own,” Jeff said.
“Hmmmph. I got three. I’m looking for something different. Maybe I need to go on out to the far side of the railroad tracks and get me a nigger girl,” Lee said.
“As long as I don’t wind up with a bastard pickaninny for a grandchild,” Jeff said as Lee laughed heartily.
***
John sat with Ed on the front porch, watching the occasional passing car in the dusk of the evening. John rolled a cigarette.
“Everybody should be in place. Hopefully we’ll have some news in a couple of hours or so,” John said.
“Regardless of how this thing turns out, I want you to know I’m grateful to you John — again. And I won’t forget it,” Ed said.
John lit the cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke.
“You’d do the same for me,” he said.
“You’re right. I would in a heartbeat. But you’re not in this kind of mess and I doubt you ever will be. I owe you,” Ed said.
“You don’t owe me nothin’. Just watch yourself and take care of that new wife,” John said as blew out a s
mall haze of smoke.
“You know I tried to hire Bob to run the paper in Silver Point for me right after he graduated,” Ed said with a smile. “Turned me down. Said he wanted to work at a bigger paper and learn all he could while he was young enough to do the job right.”
John chuckled.
“He told me the same thing. I think he likes to make as many powerful people mad as he can and as much as he can. He’d argue with a fence post — been that way all of his life,” he said.
“Knowin’ Bob, I’d say the fence post lost,” Ed said.
John blew out more smoke and smiled.
“More often than not,” he said.
“I want a few of the boys to hang around and watch things for a little while. I’m pretty sure the Milners know we’re friends and it worries me they might try to do something to you or Rachel to get to me,” Ed said.
“I can take of myself. I busted Lee James Milner’s head once and I can do it again,” John said.
“Yeah but he’s chicken shit bastard. He’s a back—shootin’ lowlife and he wouldn’t think nothin’ of killin’ Rachel — and you can’t be everywhere at once,” Ed said.
John nodded.
“Well, you got me there. Alright, tell’em to keep an eye on Rachel — just in case,” he said.
***
Bob and Cotton waited in the motel room. Charlie and A.C. waited with them, explaining Ed asked them serve as bodyguards if the need arose.
“I think we would’ve been okay anyway,” Cotton said as he pulled his jacket open to reveal a model 1911 .45 semi—automatic in a shoulder holster.
“Veteran?” A.C. asked.
Cotton nodded.
“Me too. I landed in France about two weeks before the Armistice was signed,” he said.
“You’re lucky,” Cotton said.
“I saw combat — not much, but it was plenty enough for me,” A.C. said.
“Any combat is plenty enough. I don’t care if you’re fightin’ Spaniards or Germans,” Charlie said.
“Amen to that,” Cotton said.
While they talked, Bob sat watching the two-way mirror. The room was empty at the moment but with darkness descending, he anticipated it wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Bob turned to A.C. and Charlie.
“Boys I wanna tell you somethin’. Whenever somebody goes in that room, no matter what we see, we’ve got to keep quiet. We can’t let Luttrell know he’s bein’ watched,” he said.
Moonshine, Coal, and Hope Page 13