Eli's Promise

by Ronald H. Balson

  “I appreciate your concern, Eli, but it’s my career and my life, and I want to help catch those murderers,” Mimi said.

  Eli nodded. “As I was saying, I had decided not to involve Mimi, but recent developments and Mimi’s offer have caused me to rethink my position, only if her assistance can be obtained without placing her in jeopardy.”

  Mimi smiled. Her heart was racing.

  Eli continued. “Mimi, no matter how careful we are, joining our group will pose a risk for you on several levels. Given recent developments, however, I’m willing to give you the option.”

  Mimi spoke up. “Would those recent developments have anything to do with 4.8 billion dollars in government funding for military equipment and the assumption that Vittie’s cabal will be splitting up a fortune in kickbacks?”

  Colonel Mooney sat up straight, raised his eyebrows and looked at his companions. “Comes right to the point, doesn’t she?”

  “I told you she was sharp,” Eli said.

  Special Agent Ryan leaned forward. “You need to think this over, Mimi. The people we’re investigating are very powerful and influential, up to the highest level of government. Not only can they ruin a person’s career, but we have all seen the steps that one or more of them might take in order to conceal their financial crimes.”

  The colonel continued. “Just these last few weeks, their influence on the Hill has successfully funneled an additional five billion dollars into their streams of commerce. How much of that funding filters its way down to their personal fortunes is anybody’s guess.”

  Mimi nodded. “I want to help.”

  “At some future time, your involvement in this investigation will become known. It’s inevitable. You are a young woman with your whole life ahead of you. We want you to appreciate the risk, and none of us would think any less of you if you respectfully declined.”

  Mimi let the message sink in. Maybe she hadn’t thought this through. Maybe taking on some of the nation’s most powerful men was a bridge too far. What if Eli’s plans faltered and resulted in embarrassment for everyone involved? Maybe even a civil liability for defamation of character or false charges? Eli was right: it would crater her career. And what if her involvement were to place her mother or grandmother in danger? Two murders had already been committed. One Albany Park building had been burned to the ground. Powerful men weren’t going to go down without a fight.

  “We want you to take your time and think it over, Mimi,” Ryan said.

  Mimi shook her head. “I don’t need time. They murdered my best friend, and if I can help put them away, I’m not going to back out.”

  “Eli told us that you and Christine spoke often and that she shared her private thoughts with you. Did these include details of what transpired at Nicholas Bryant’s shipping office?”

  Mimi nodded. “Without a doubt, Mr. Ryan. Every day.”

  Ryan stood. “We’re going to leave it there tonight. I want you to go home and think about everything we’ve said. Tomorrow, if you’re still willing, we can begin at noon.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  CHICAGO

  ALBANY PARK NEIGHBORHOOD

  FEBRUARY 1966

  “Welcome back, Mimi,” Ryan said, without getting up from his seat. On the table lay a deli tray from Kaufman’s Bagel Bakery. A pot of coffee sat to the side. “Help yourself,” he said.

  “Thank you. I’m ready to help in any way I can.”

  “Are you prepared to have your memory poked and prodded?” Eli asked.

  She nodded. “I’m here. No second thoughts. Where do you want me to start?”

  “Why don’t you begin by giving us a history of your relationship with Christine and the Zielinski family? From the beginning.”

  “We met at Hibbard Elementary School. We were in the third grade. We became best friends.”

  “Did you know her father was a U.S. congressman?”

  “Everybody knew that, but it didn’t matter to a third grader. What I knew was that Chrissie’s father was in Washington a lot. He wasn’t home all the time like other kids’ dads.” She paused. “Except my dad.”

  Ryan leaned forward. “If it isn’t too personal, Mimi, can I ask you about your dad? I know you live with your mother and grandmother, but not with your dad.”

  “My dad died when I was five. He was a soldier, and he was killed in the war.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Colonel Mooney. “What unit, if you know?”

  “My dad was with the Sixth Armored Division, the Super Sixth. He landed on Utah Beach on June eighteenth, 1944, and joined up with General Patton’s Third Army. He was killed at the Battle of the Bulge.”

  Eli looked as though he had seen a ghost.

  Colonel Mooney walked over and warmly hugged Mimi. “Thank you for sharing. Your father was in one of the finest units the army ever produced. You can be very proud of your dad.”

  “I’ve always been proud of my dad. Upstairs in our apartment, we have my dad’s medals and the flag that was given to my mom. We have a chair at the head of our dining table that remains empty, like the space in my mother’s heart, she would say. We also have my dad’s dog tag, which was carried through the rest of the war by his best buddy, Corporal Dennis Reilly.”

  Eli stared straight ahead. “This is unbelievable,” he muttered to himself. “This can’t just be a coincidence. This is fated.” Tears filled his eyes, and he flicked them away with his fingers. The others looked at him with concern.

  “Are you okay?” Colonel Mooney asked.

  He nodded and softly said, “There is an extraordinary connection here. I was rescued by the Super Sixth. Corporal Dennis Reilly personally saved me and my son Izaak. He lifted me down out of my bed, carried me across the square and helped me find my son. When I was placed onto a medic’s stretcher, Corporal Reilly made sure Izaak stayed with me. So many children were separated from their parents at the end of the war, but it was Corporal Reilly who kept us together.” Eli stood, cleared his throat and left the room.

  “Maybe we should take a short break,” Ryan said.

  * * *

  When the group had reconvened, Ryan asked, “Why don’t you tell us what you know about Nicholas Bryant and Bryant Shipping Incorporated?”

  “I’ve only met him on a half dozen occasions, generally at social affairs at Congressman Zielinski’s home. From what I know, he’s a first-class jerk. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, always flirting, always making snide, inappropriate remarks. At a political function, he’d come up to a woman he didn’t even know and tell her how sexy she looked in her dress and how it turned him on. He made a pass at me two years ago at a dinner party—totally inappropriate—and he put his hand on my knee. I slapped him.”

  “Did all this inappropriate conduct take place after he and his wife separated?”

  “Marital fidelity has never been a serious concern for Nicky. He’s been an unabashed philanderer for as long as I can remember. He continually made advances to Chrissie, and it was a constant problem for her, but she wanted to keep her job and she thought she could deflect them. In the end, she couldn’t; she quit, and it’s probably what got her killed. That and the threats Preston made to her dad and Nicky.”

  “Is it your opinion that Bryant killed Christine?”

  “I don’t have enough information to form that opinion, but he’d be my number one suspect.”

  “Who’d be number two?”

  “It could have been any of Vittie’s cabal, I guess. They all had motivation to silence Preston and Chrissie. Chrissie’s resignation caused quite a disruption, not only for Nicky and his business, but for her dad and the military contractors. There was no one left to keep an eye on Nicky and the cash that was coming in. She knew too much. They didn’t want her to quit.”

  “What about Preston?” Ryan said. “Did he know too much?”

  “Maybe. Preston worked in Vittie’s congressional office. He saw people come and go, though Vittie never allowed him into the meetings.
Right after Christine quit, Preston had a screaming argument with Nicky and Vittie. He threatened to blow the whistle if they wouldn’t leave Christine alone. Was it Nicky that killed them both?” She shrugged. “He’s a violent man, especially when drunk, and that was every day. He socked Chrissie in the face when she threatened to leave him, even though he professed to love her.” Mimi shook her head. “Such a damn shame. She was such a beautiful girl.” Mimi stared at Ryan. “What do you think? What do the professionals think? Was it Nicky?”

  Ryan spread his hands. “Maybe. There are several possible suspects. Bryant is one, but others had reasons to silence Christine and Preston. For the moment, let’s focus on Bryant. I’d like you to tell us as much as you can remember about Nicholas Bryant and his shipping company.”

  Mimi spent the next three hours recounting all of her conversations with Christine that had anything to do with Nicky, Bryant Shipping and the hidden cash. She recalled the day Nicky gave Christine the job. “Actually, Vittie gave her the job. All of Nicky’s shipping contracts came from Vittie. Nicky wouldn’t have a business at all if it wasn’t for Vittie and the military contractors. Military supplies were all he shipped. Chrissie would tell me about the meetings. Businessmen would come in with their briefcases. The meetings were short, and many times the men would leave without their briefcases.”

  “Did Chrissie’s duties involve periodic reports to her father about the cash?”

  “Daily, that’s what I understand. One evening, when I was visiting the Zielinskis’ home, I overheard Vittie telling Chrissie that he suspected Nicky wasn’t properly accounting for all the cash. He also wanted accurate details of who came in and who went out. Chrissie also knew that Nicky was keeping money for himself.”

  Ryan, Mooney and Eli busily took notes and intermittently interrupted Mimi’s narrative with follow-up questions. By the end of the afternoon, the men had written several pages in their yellow pads.

  As they were putting their notes away for the day, Mimi said, “Why have all these men come to Chicago for a meeting? Why not meet in Washington?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I could say it is centrally located, but truthfully Chicago is safer. There are too many eyes in D.C. As a group, they assemble in Chicago once or twice a year. Individuals may come here more often. They meet as a group, but they will each have a private audience with the congressman in his neighborhood congressional office. Tomorrow night, Zielinski; his chief of staff, Michael Stanley; Bryant and representatives of six of the country’s largest military contractors are scheduled to attend a dinner at the Palmer House.”

  Mimi’s jaw dropped. “The Palmer House! Those bastards.”

  “Does that mean something to you?”

  “Don’t you see the irony? That was the scene of the wedding. Last year Vittie threw this extravagant wedding dinner for Chrissie and Preston, and several wealthy businessmen were in attendance. These wealthy men will now sit with wine in their cups and blood on their hands in the very room where they toasted long life and happiness to Chrissie and Preston less than six months ago. And to think, I stood there, microphone in hand, and thanked these murderers for coming.”

  “We’re not sure who the murderers are,” Ryan said, “or the conspirators, but Zielinski did book the dinner at the Palmer House for tomorrow night.”

  Mimi pursed her lips. “I never thought it was possible for Vittie to have any involvement in Chrissie’s death—he loved her so much—but if he can sit and break bread at the scene of her wedding, knowing that one or more of his group killed his daughter, then I guess he’s capable of anything.”

  “He’s not the only member of that group who’s capable of anything.”

  Mimi looked hard at Ryan. “Who was it, Agent Ryan? Which one of them did it?”

  “I don’t think we’re there yet.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  CHICAGO

  ALBANY PARK NEIGHBORHOOD

  FEBRUARY 1966

  “Thank you for taking the day off, Mimi,” Ryan said when the group reconvened two days later. “The information you’ve given us is very helpful.”

  “I’ll do anything to bring those killers to justice.”

  Ryan smiled and nodded. “Of course you would, and I may have a special assignment I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Assignment?”

  Eli shook his head and held up his hand. “Wait a minute, Cliff. We haven’t agreed to proceed with that yet. For the moment, why don’t we continue our background discussions? Mimi, we all know that Preston was spending a lot of money last fall. He had that fancy new car, he had VIP tickets to special events and we understand he had a new wardrobe from Marshall Field’s. Do you know how he came into all that money?”

  “Nathan would know better than I would. Preston talked to him almost every day. Nathan theorizes that Vittie was paying Preston to keep quiet and ensure his loyalty.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  “It came up at the time of the wedding. Preston said that he sneaked into the secret room at the congressional office. The accountant’s room.”

  “Malcomb Friedman?”

  Mimi shook her head. “I wouldn’t know his name. He’s a pudgy guy with greasy hair and glasses. Preston said he had a locked room at the office. No one was allowed to go in there but Vittie, Stanley and the accountant.”

  “But Preston went in there?”

  “Apparently, they left the door open one day. It was just too tempting, and Preston snooped around. He said he saw ledger books and bank records, and told us it was ‘major shit.’ That’s what he said. ‘The kind of shit that could send people to jail.’”

  “Did the congressman know that Preston had entered the room?”

  “I don’t think so, but eventually he must have learned. Preston suspected that the receptionist saw him.”

  “What did Christine say about the secret room?”

  “I never discussed it with Chrissie. In many ways she was so naïve. So clueless.” Mimi paused and swallowed hard. “She had the innocence of a child.”

  “Have you been in the congressional office, Mimi?”

  “Oh, many times, but never in the locked room.”

  Ryan put his yellow pad on the table. “Can you draw a layout of the office and show us where the accountant’s room is?”

  Mimi took the pen and sketched the office. “Right there.”

  Ryan sat back. “Ledgers and bank records. That’s our smoking gun. It will seal the deal.”

  The group decided to take a coffee break. During the break, Ryan and Eli walked over to Mimi and said quietly, “Are you doing all right with this? It must raise a lot of uncomfortable memories.”

  “Of course it does, but I’m doing it for Chrissie.”

  “You mentioned that you’ve been in Congressman Zielinski’s home,” Ryan said. “How many times?”

  Mimi shrugged. “More than I can count. Since I was a child.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “November, after the funeral. I went for a few nights. They were holding visitation.”

  “Have you been there since?”

  “No, why?”

  “Would you have any reason to go to Congressman Zielinski’s house now, say tomorrow or the next day?”

  “Is this the special assignment you mentioned?”

  “It is, but to be perfectly frank, it could be risky,” Eli said.

  Mimi locked eyes with Eli “Count me in.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  FÖHRENWALD

  FÖHRENWALD DP CAMP

  AMERICAN ZONE

  FEBRUARY 1947

  Föhrenwald’s population continued to grow, and despite the initial objections from UNRRA, the camp continued with construction of additional housing. Eli was tasked with supervising, but he didn’t mind. His days were filled with meaningful service. As he was about to leave his home for the construction site, Dr. Weisman dropped in.

  “How is our little fellow doing today?”
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br />   “Much better, Joel. He’s eating well; he has a lot more energy; he’s back in school.”

  “The antibiotics worked well. No coughing, wheezing, shortness of breath?”

  “I haven’t witnessed any of it. How’s Bernard doing? I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to see him for a few days, not since I returned from Garmisch. He’ll want to know what happened, and I almost hate to tell him that we failed again. I’m planning to visit him after work today.”

  Dr. Weisman shook his head. “Bernard’s not well, Eli. He grows weaker by the hour. If you have anything to tell him, you should get over there. Now.”

  * * *

  The nurse handed a surgical mask and gloves to Eli and whispered, “Don’t stay too long. He needs his strength. Every word he says takes a little more out of him. He knows he doesn’t have much more time, but he wants to see his friends, especially you.”

  Bernard was propped up in bed, and his eyes were half-open. His complexion was chalky, his facial muscles had lost much of their tone and his breathing was labored. He spoke in a raw whisper, barely audible. “Hello, my friend. How did it go? When is the trial?”

  Eli stared at his friend. Bernard had given so much to his people and now in his last hours, he deserved the truth, and nothing less, but Eli’s words caught in his throat. He couldn’t tell him the truth.

  “Well, we caught him in the act,” Eli finally said. “Just like you planned, and I can assure you that his black-market visa scheme has come to an end.”

  Bernard smiled weakly, a smile of accomplishment. “Tell me what happened in Garmisch? When is the trial?”

  Trying his best to hold it together, Eli answered, “There’s no need for a trial, Bernard. Max confessed to his crimes. He pleaded guilty. He knew his crime spree had come to an end, so he gave it all up. He even gave up his contact in the United States. They’re all going to jail. There will be no more black-market visas through Max or anyone else.”