Finian and the cop looked astonished. Taking advantage of that, Artie grabbed Gina’s arm, his other hand clinging to his athletic bag. He broke out into a cold sweat thinking about what would happen if the cop got a look inside. “Leave it,” he said as she bent to pick up the suitcase. “Run!”
They took off. Shouts of surprise sounded behind them. Artie dared to look back and saw the men start forward, but then stop to talk. They had to be wondering why Gina was running away. Everyone thought Gina and her dad were inseparable. As far as he knew, Artie was the only one who was in on their secret.
He’d found out by accident. One late evening after a disappointing haul, he’d gone to see Darrin, just to talk. He wasn’t married to Josie then. They hadn’t even met. Darrin had let him in with obvious reluctance. When little Gina heard his voice, she popped out of her bedroom to hug him.
Before she got too close, her father stopped her with outstretched arm. “Go change,” he said through gritted teeth.
Gina looked down at herself, her tiny blue overalls and white T-shirt covered in soot, and her eyes widened. She ducked her red head, her short hair covered in a kerchief, and ran back to her bedroom, closing the door behind herself.
“What the hell,” Artie said and collapsed onto the sofa. “What did she get into? A roomful of coal?”
Darrin frowned and sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah,” he drawled.
Artie’s mouth dropped open, and he made an effort to close it. “How did that happen?”
“None of your business.”
Artie clenched his teeth so his mouth stayed closed this time and stared at his friend. He didn’t know whether to push Darrin for answers or wait to get Gina alone for her to tell him why. But suddenly he knew why. He’d heard about parents sending their kids into houses through the old milk doors, if the child was small enough, or through the coal chute door if the child could fit. He tried to imagine the horror the child felt the first time he, or she, zoomed down the chute and landed in a pile of coal. Maybe now most of the coal rooms were cleaned out, but there must still be dust left in the chutes. The kid would be told to run upstairs and open an outside door to let daddy or, rarely, mommy in.
He’d been appalled, thinking it was Dickensian when someone had first told him about the process. He could hardly believe it then, and now… Now, he sat, shocked speechless.
“Little Gina,” he finally muttered. “How can you…”
Gina came out of her room again, face scrubbed, in a clean flannel nightgown, her tiny feet bare. She walked shyly over to Artie and leaned against his knee. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, watching Darrin over her thatch of red hair. She still smelled of coal dust.
Darrin’s gaze shifted to the floor, and he didn’t look up until Artie asked Gina, “What were you doing to get so dirty?”
She wrinkled her freckled nose and shook her head. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh, but you can tell me.”
Darrin stirred. “No, Gina. You can’t tell anyone.”
Gina popped her thumb into her mouth and stared at her father with round eyes. Artie wondered if she wasn’t too old to be sucking her thumb. He’d never seen her do it before.
“Give Uncle Artie a kiss and off to bed.” Darrin moved away from the doorjamb and waited while Gina kissed Artie on the cheek and held out her hand to her father. They walked to her bedroom and went inside.
Artie leaned back into the couch cushion and took a deep breath. His stomach clenched as if someone had thrown a punch at it. When Darrin came back into the living room, they argued for hours, but Artie could not persuade Darrin to stop using Gina to help him. Artie showed up at odd times for several weeks to argue some more, but he could never change Darrin’s mind. He didn’t see any evidence that Gina had been in a coal room again, but once he thought he caught a whiff of coal dust in the air when he arrived. That night Darrin told him Gina was already asleep.
After awhile, he gave up. If he turned Darrin in, Gina would lose her father, maybe for years. Her mother had died giving birth to Gina, and Artie wasn’t aware of any other responsible relatives who might take Gina in. Darrin’s parents were dead. He had a brother with an alcoholic wife, and a sister with an abusive husband. Artie couldn’t think of a good solution, and he could no longer be around Darrin and Gina. It both frustrated and hurt him too much.
Now he gripped Gina’s hand hard while they ran. A block from home, he dared to look back again. No one was following. He pulled at Gina to make her slow down. “Act casual. Only one more block to go.”
Gina, gasping for breath, nodded. She must really be scared, Artie thought. We didn’t run far enough to make her so breathless. When they arrived at his apartment building, he looked around again. No one in sight. They walked inside and rode the elevator to one story below Artie and Josie’s apartment. Gina still gasped for air, and Artie began to worry that she was ill. His mind spun busily, thinking about what to do with her.
When the elevator stopped, they made their way upstairs slowly. His hand still clutched his bag as if they were welded together. Gina pushed against her purse to keep it from slipping off her shoulder.
Artie unlocked his door, and they stepped inside. Josie came into the small hallway and stopped short when she saw them.
The love of my life. He almost relaxed. Josie would help him decide what to do. After pecking his wife on the cheek, he led Gina into the living room and pointed at the couch. Gina sank into it, finally letting her handbag strap slide off her shoulder. Her pale face made her bright hair look even brighter, and her blue eyes glittered with the beginning of tears. She didn’t look around, didn’t notice the decorated and lit Christmas tree in the corner, the nativity scene on the mantle, the tawny kitten Josie had rescued a few days ago sleeping on the hearth rug.
Josie gave Artie a questioning look, then headed for the kitchen. Artie sat down in a chair across from Gina and loosened his grip on the athletic bag enough so it fell with a soft plop to the carpet, the loot inside clinking slightly. He worked his cramped fingers and watched Gina kick off her shoes and curl herself up into a ball on the couch. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such misery in one human being in all his life.
The doorbell rang, making Artie jump. His reluctant fingers grabbed the athletic bag once more, and he dashed into the bedroom. After he threw it into the far corner of the closet, he went back to the living room. Josie was letting in the same cop who’d tried to stop Gina, and another one he didn’t know, wearing a suit, not a uniform. Not good. Josie’s eyes were huge and questioning when she looked at Artie. He didn’t blame her for being scared. His whole body tensed, and he purposely loosened his hands, wishing to rub the aching one that had been holding the bag, but restraining himself.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the cop Artie had seen before said to Josie. “We’re here to see Ms. Regina MacIntosh.” Both men held up their badges.
“What for?” Artie scowled.
“We need to talk to her,” the other officer said. He was older, gray at the temples, what used to be called hatchet-faced, with a bulky body almost splitting the seams of his suit jacket.
“She’s in no condition to talk to anyone right now.” Josie’s small chin jutted out, and Artie almost laughed, seeing her defiant stare. Her brown eyes looked even bigger than usual. Part of the reason he loved his wife was because she never backed down.
“It’s all right,” a tiny voice said. Artie whipped around to see Gina standing, swaying, in the hall doorway. He took her arm and steered her back to the couch. The rest followed.
“Have a seat.” Artie, resigned, waved his arm around the room. The police officers sat down, but Josie stood in the kitchen doorway, chin still jutting, arms folded across her chest.
Artie tried to make himself comfortable in the chair he’d sat in before.
The man in the suit said, “I’m Detective Ted Sheffield, and this is Sergeant Larry Armstrong. We’re here about
a robbery that took place two nights ago. Something was left at the scene.”
“How did you know Gina was here?” Artie asked.
Sheffield gave Artie a scornful look. “We have eyes everywhere, Mr. Applegate.”
Artie had no doubt.
“What was left behind?” he asked.
“This.” From his inside suit pocket, Detective Sheffield pulled out an evidence bag with a golden locket on a chain inside.
Gina gasped and touched her throat.
The detective grinned. “Yours.”
Gina squinted at the bag. “How would I know? It’s too far away to tell.”
“Here’s a hint. The chain is broken, and there’s a picture of your mother and father inside.”
Gina moaned.
“Not another word, Gina,” Josie said as she walked over to the couch and sat down next to the girl.
Gina’s a woman now, Artie thought. She’d be tried as an adult. He felt sick to his stomach as he watched the two police officers smirk with satisfaction.
“Here’s the thing.” Detective Sheffield stuffed the evidence bag back into his pocket. “With this evidence, we figured out the operation, and we’re much more interested in prosecuting your father than you, Ms. MacIntosh. If you will cooperate with us, we can almost guarantee the D.A. will work something out with you so that you won’t spend any time in prison.”
Artie stood up and yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling my lawyer. Gina, don’t say another word.” He found Saul Lapin’s number in his address list and hit “talk.”
The police officers stood up, Detective Sheffield shaking his head at Artie. “You get the lawyers involved, and it will take a lot longer to straighten everything out. We’ll have to take Ms. MacIntosh down to the station and book her.”
“No,” Gina moaned.
Artie hit the “end” button on his phone and slowly put it back into his pocket.
They all looked at the tiny figure huddled on the couch. Even the officers looked uneasy.
Detective Sheffield sighed. “We know you were probably forced to enter the houses and let your father in, Gina. In the beginning. The problem is you continued after you reached adulthood. If you give us enough information, we can probably work a deal.”
Gina looked up at the detective, her pale face surrounded by her wild red hair anguished. With obvious effort and determination, she stood up, straightened her shoulders and walked toward the officers. “Let’s go.” She turned to Artie. “I’d appreciate your lawyer’s help.”
Artie nodded.
“We have to cuff you,” Sergeant Armstrong said, pulling a set from his belt.
Gina held out her tiny hands, and Larry placed the cuffs gently on her wrists. “Sorry, Gina,” he murmured. He took her arm and led her out the door, the detective following.
“What precinct?” Artie asked their retreating backs.
The sergeant told him, and Artie called to Gina, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Just what he wanted to do. Voluntarily walk into a police station. He sank back down into his chair and put his head in his hands. Josie came over and patted him on the shoulder.
“Merry Christmas to all,” Artie muttered, and calling up his own determination, retrieved his phone and jabbed the talk button again.
After he and his lawyer discussed the situation and he ended the call, Josie said, “I’m going with you to the station. You can explain everything on the way. Gina looks like she could use a woman friend right now.”
He sighed with relief, stood up and hugged her. “I can always count on you, lover. It’s a long story.”
Keeping his voice low, he told her all about it in the taxi on the way to the police station, becoming more and more tense the closer they got. Josie held his hand and squeezed it during the bad parts. “Gina and her father really love each other,” he said when he’d finished. “There’s no way this is going to end happily.”
“Her father should have thought of that the first time he made her go down a coal chute, Artie.”
Artie sighed. “You’re right, of course. I keep thinking I should have tried harder to make him stop.”
Josie squeezed his hand again. “You tried your best. Stop blaming yourself. I know how hard this is on you, going voluntarily to the police station, dealing with them.”
Artie closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about the police station. When they arrived, his feet dragged as they walked up the steps and inside. The female officer at the desk wouldn’t let them into the secure area without authorization. When Artie’s lawyer came, and after he talked to the officer, they still couldn’t go back, even with him, so they sat on an uncomfortable bench, waiting anxiously.
An hour or so later, Saul Lapin came back into the area, shaking his head. Tall and thin, Saul wore a jogging suit and beat-up-looking athletic shoes. He had a large head with big features—big eyes, big nose, sensuously full lips and really big ears. A mop of wavy brown hair crowned his head, and he wore it a bit long. He sat down next to Artie and sighed. “They have the locket. They know it’s hers because Sergeant Armstrong recognizes both her father and her mother. It has her fingerprints on it. They found it in a house that was robbed two days ago. But she refuses to talk, and of course I’ve advised her to remain silent. They’re looking for her father right now. Either he’s in hiding or he’s out looking for Gina, unaware she’s here.”
“What’s the bottom line, Saul?” Artie wanted to put his head in his hands, but refrained.
“Circumstantial evidence is strong. If they can find any kind of witness, that will about cinch the case. Nothing I can do until after Monday when the judges come in and bail can be set. They’re going to keep her here. They’re hoping her father will come in.”
Josie shifted in her seat. “Will they really make a deal with her if she turns in her father?”
“Probably, but there’s no guarantee. She might still get jail time. She wasn’t a minor when the last theft took place.”
“Is there no way we can see her?” Josie asked.
A commotion in the doorway made them all turn their heads. Artie jumped up when he saw Darrin enter. When Darrin noticed Artie, his face turned into a white mask. But he walked straight toward Artie and took his arm. “Can I talk to you?”
Surprised, Artie nodded. They walked over to an empty corner. “How are you, Art?” Darrin slumped against the grimy wall and sighed deeply. Deep furrows lined his brow now, and his blue eyes looked tired. He still had a thatch of faded red hair and appeared to still be at his correct weight.
“I’d be better if I knew Gina was out of trouble.” Artie stood straight, his fists clenched. He so wanted to punch Darrin in the face.
“I’m gonna work on that. There’s more to this than anyone knows, and I don’t…”
“What do you mean?”
Darrin made an effort to straighten himself up. “We never really robbed anyone. Well, except the insurance companies.”
Now it was Artie’s turn to slump against the wall. “Fraud. It’s worse than I thought. You committed fraud. Did Gina know?”
“No. I was guaranteed we’d never get caught.”
“Because no one was at home when you got there. And no one came home unexpectedly.”
“Right. All set up ahead of time. The homeowners didn’t want me caught because they’d go to jail, too. When Gina was little, I told her we were going to play a new game. She was going down a wonderful slide inside a house. The owners always cleaned out the chute and room as best they could and even left an old mattress or some blankets on the floor for her to land on. The time you saw her, they forgot. I made them pay extra for that one.”
Artie closed his eyes and swayed back and forth. He forced his eyes open and stumbled over to a chair. “Why? Why did you do this all these years? You didn’t need the money. The liquor store did a good business.”
Darrin sat next to him, sighing. “I liked the horses too much. Always had to pay my v
ig. Never could get ahead.”
Artie had never wanted to punch anyone as badly as he wanted to smack Darrin. He looked around the police station and decided it wouldn’t be a good idea. He held his right balled fist in his left hand and squeezed as hard as he could. “You son of a bitch. You need to go tell the cops everything and get Gina out of here.”
“There’s no other way?” Darrin’s eyes clouded over, and he hung his head. “It will be hard on Gina, me being in prison.”
“You should have thought of that before you played the ponies.”
“I thought you could figure a way out. You were always smarter than the rest of us.”
“No one’s smart enough to get you out of this mess. Go talk to Saul, then talk to the detectives. We’ve gotta get Gina out of here.”
Artie stood up on weak legs and walked back to Josie, who watched him come with compassionate eyes. Darrin approached Saul, and they went over to the corner to talk.
“What did he say?” Josie put her hand on Artie’s arm.
“I need to leave.” His whole body felt limp, and he wasn’t sure he could walk another step. He wanted to sit down, but even more, he wanted to get out of this cursed police station.
Josie stood up quickly and put her arm around his waist. “Let’s tell Saul we’re leaving.”
Saul saw them coming and quirked his eyebrows. “You okay, Artie?”
“I will be as soon as I get out of here. Bring Gina to our place when you spring her, will you?”
“Sure.” Saul turned back to Darrin, and Josie guided Artie outside. He took a huge gulp of air, almost regretted its city stink, but then took another. Anything smelled better than the police station.
Back at their apartment, they waited. Josie heated up some of her homemade chicken soup, and Artie ate a few spoonfuls. He showed her his stash, then put the athletic bag back in the closet and shut the door. He paced. He started chewing his nails and made himself stop. Almost four hours later, the doorbell rang.
When he opened it he saw Saul and Gina standing there, both looking haggard. Gina had dark circles under her eyes; Saul had bags under his. Saul guided Gina inside, and everyone settled into spots in the living room except Saul, who stood in the doorway, twisting his hat in his hand. The kitten stretched and padded over to Josie, who took him into her lap. He yawned, showing tiny sharp teeth.
The Artie Crimes Page 5