The Rum Runner

by Christine Marciniak

  Snake and Patsy exchanged a covert look. Did they, like her, think there was more to the story? How could she find out what they did think without being crass? She may be a police officer, but she was also sitting at the table of the newly bereaved, she needed to proceed with caution.

  “I’m told it was robbery and that the man confessed.” She took the proffered cup of tea from Irene and shook her head to indicate she’d have neither milk nor sugar.

  “Robbery, aye.” Patsy took a sip of his tea. The delicate cup looked out of place in his work-hardened hand.

  “You don’t think so?” She looked back and forth between the two men. “I was told his pay was missing.”

  “And what pay would that be?” Snake asked, looking her straight in the eye. “Whatever he had left after paying his crew he locked in the safe in the Katinka. That wasn’t touched. Not till we got it out and gave it to Irene.”

  How did Mark and the Chief not know that?

  “You didn’t tell that to the investigating officers?”

  Snake shrugged. “Didn’t seem no point.”

  She sighed. Why couldn’t she be the one in charge of this investigation? Then again, they caught the killer. And he’d confessed. What was it exactly she was looking to find out?

  “Where does Jiggy fit into this?”

  The atmosphere in the kitchen became tense. Snake and Patsy exchanged worried glances. Irene’s expression became hard. Clearly, she’d stumbled on something here. No going back now.

  “You told me he was a customer,” Alice addressed the two fishermen. “But you sold your scallops at Martin’s fishery. What did Jiggy buy from you?”

  She was pretty sure she knew. After all, Hank had confirmed that Tomas had been rum running.

  Again, the covert glances back and forth.

  “Folyadék,” mumbled Irene, nearly under her breath.

  “I’m sorry?” Alice said. “What’s that?”

  “Don’t, Irene,” Patsy cautioned.

  She waved his objection away. “Tomas is dead. What harm can come of telling now? Liquor. He smuggled liquor in from rum row and sold it to Chiggy.” The look of defiance on her face dared Alice to make something of it.

  Alice didn’t let her expression change. It was as she thought.

  “Do you think Jiggy had something to do with his murder?” Alice watched them all closely for some clue as to their thoughts. She knew body language was much more likely to give her answers here than words.

  Irene frowned and seemed to contemplate the possibility.

  Snake and Patsy froze and carefully didn’t look at each other. They knew something and they didn’t want her to know it.

  “Not Chiggy,” Irene said, definitively. “He was done with Chiggy.”

  “What do you mean?” Alice asked, ignoring Snake and Patsy, whose faces had gone disturbingly pale.

  “He had new buyer. Salerno.”

  And there was that name again.

  She looked at the two men. “Did he sell his haul to Salerno this time?”

  There was an almost imperceptible nod from Patsy.

  Snake cleared his throat. “We didn’t think it was a good idea. We weren’t sure we could trust Salerno.”

  “Do you think either one of them would kill him?” She studied them all over the top of her teacup.

  Irene shrugged. “Tomas can’t bring him any more liquor if he’s dead.”

  “Where can I find either Salerno or Jiggy?”

  Patsy’s face colored, and he put his teacup down and leaned across the table toward her.

  “With all due respect, miss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go talk to either of them. They are dangerous men.”

  “I’m a police officer,” she reminded them. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, miss. Under normal circumstances. But if you want to talk to these men, bring backup.”

  But she’d get no backup. As far as the department was concerned, the murder was solved. If she was going to talk to them, it would have to be on her own.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, miss,” Snake spoke up. “Let it go. They caught the man who killed Tomas. That’s all any of us really wanted.”

  Was that enough for them? It wasn’t enough for her. There were too many questions. If Salerno was a buyer, why would Hank think he was a pirate? Why would changing buyers get him killed? Saying it was simple robbery seemed like taking the easy way out. There was something more going on here, and Alice felt she was close to stumbling on what it was.

  For now, she’d get no more help from the people around this table. She finished her cup of tea.

  “I had better get back. I appreciate the tea, and I’ll be back after dinner with the typewriter.”

  Irene gave her a sad smile. “Thank you. You may be angel in disguise.”

  “Not likely, just someone trying to help.” She wasn’t doing that much really, just what she could.

  At the door, out of earshot of Snake and Patsy she took hold of Irene’s hands. “You wouldn’t happen to know Jiggy’s given name, would you?”

  “No, miss.” Irene gave her a sad smile. “Just know him as Chiggy Malone. He does business along the river.”

  That would have to be enough for now.

  “Thank you, and I’ll be back after dinner. Around seven, perhaps?” Suddenly she remembered the young children. “Is that too late? Will I be interfering with bedtimes?”

  “Sari goes to bed at seven, but I’ll have the boys do it. It will be fine.”

  This was why it was easier for men to get ahead; they didn’t have to worry about who would care for the children. What Irene needed was a wife. Or a mother’s helper. Or Marty. Alice smiled at the thought. Maybe she could convince her sister to help out tonight.

  “If my sister agrees, and you agree, of course, perhaps she could watch the children while I teach you to type. She’s quite good with little ones.”

  Alice could see the relief wash across Irene’s face.

  “That would be good. Yes. Thank you. If she agrees.”

  Alice was fairly certain she could get Marty to agree.

  In the meantime, she needed to see if she could track down a Mr. Jiggy Malone or Vince Salerno.

  She headed back to the office glad of something to do to help.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Nagy boys showed up so quickly after school that Hank wondered if they’d even bothered to stop home and tell their mother where they were going. He didn’t want to be the cause of any extra anxiety for Irene. She had enough to worry about.

  “Does your mother know where you are?” he asked as they clambered over the gangway into the boat.

  “Yes, sir, Captain,” Ernst said in his boyish treble, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “We even changed out of our school clothes. But we ran fast to get here. The more work we can do, the more we can make to help Mama, right?”

  “That’s right.” Hank suppressed a smile.

  “Should we swab the deck again, Captain, sir?” Kristof, the younger of the two, asked eagerly.

  “Well, no. It doesn’t need it again quite yet.” He’d been thinking about what job he could have the two boys do. Obviously, they couldn’t repair the knocking sound in the engine, and he couldn’t have them inspecting the trawlers. “Today I need you to check our nets for holes.”

  Kristof frowned, looking at the net on the deck, which obviously was made mostly of holes.

  “Extra holes that aren’t supposed to be there,” he clarified, and Kristof nodded.

  “What do we do if we find one?” Ernst asked. “Do we fix it?”

  “Do you know how?” They might. They were Tomas’s sons, after all.

  “Yes sir, Captain,” Ernst answered proudly, and then his face darkened. “I mean Papa showed us how, but we never really did it on our own.”

  Of course they hadn’t; they weren’t even ten years old yet.

  “When you find a hole, you come and get me and
show me how you’d mend it. I’ll let you know if you did it right or not.” He figured he’d have to do most of the mending himself but didn’t mind it.

  The rest of the crew took to the Nagy boys right away, treating them like beloved mascots. Before long he noticed Swede sitting by the boys, patiently showing them how to mend the nets. With the boys in good hands, Hank went up to the bridge to organize things for his next trip.

  Even as he sorted through charts and polished the brass equipment, he couldn’t get Alice Grady out of his mind. He never should have kissed her the other day; it made him want more, much more. And he couldn’t have it. First of all, Alice deserved a whole man, not someone as beset by demons as he was, and second of all, she was a cop, and he was a rum runner. That was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one. Either he would have to lie to her, or she would have to ignore her duty to the law, if they were going to make things work. He didn’t see either of those things happening.

  Why had she come into his life? Only to remind him of the things he couldn’t have? It had been so easy to talk to her. He almost, for a moment, imagined coming home to her in that little house with the picket fence and the boy named Sean. But it was a fantasy.

  The best thing he could do was to not see her again. It shouldn’t be that hard. Their paths had never crossed before this weekend. Why would he think they would cross in the future? He stared out at the sun sparkles on the water. Unless, of course, his brother continued to be involved with her sister. That could make things awkward. He sighed. It didn’t matter anyway. He spent most of his time out at sea.

  Another week and he’d be out on the ocean with his crew. By the time he got back, maybe his brother would have moved on, and there’d be nothing to worry about.

  As the sun moved lower in the western sky, the shadows in the bridge lengthened. He’d have to light a lamp soon if he were to continue working. A tap at his door was followed by Swede sticking his blond head in.

  “Captain, the Nagy boys are ready to be paid. They say they need to go home for dinner.”

  He snapped out of his reverie.

  “Of course.” He reached into his pockets for some coins to pay the boys.

  “They’re good workers.” Swede leaned against the open door. “The guys and I were discussing other jobs they can help us with, if you don’t mind keeping them around while we’re in dock.”

  “Not at all.” He sorted through his handful of change for a couple of quarters for the boys. “I just didn’t want them getting in the crew’s way. We do have real work to do.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem.” Swede shoved his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, they’re good workers, and quick learners. They’ll help, not hinder.”

  “Good to hear.”

  He headed down the metal steps to the working deck where the two boys stood, hats in hand, looking up at him expectantly.

  “We’d keep working,” Ernst said, revealing a gap where one of his front teeth used to be, “but Mama expects us home for dinner, and we don’t want to make her worry.”

  “Of course.” Hank pressed fifty cents into each boy’s hand. “Your mother has enough to worry about, you don’t want to add to it, and you are quite right. Now, on home with you. And I’ll expect you back here tomorrow, as long as your mother says it’s all right. There’s always work for two likely lads to do.”

  The grins that broke across their faces warmed his heart.

  “Off with you now.” He turned away, trying not to think of those boys growing up without their father. He started back up the steps to the bridge but turned to address his crew. “And off with the rest of you, too. Go have dinner. We made good progress today. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Soon he was alone on the Mary B. He inhaled deeply of the sea air and absorbed the silence around him. Not complete silence, of course—the water still lapped along the hull, sea gulls cried out as they circled and dove into the water, the breeze jostled the lines. These were all sounds that he could absorb, that he could sleep to if need be. Even the sounds of other people in the marina, muted conversations and hammering coming from somewhere, were still part of the silence.

  He climbed the stairs back up to the bridge and closed the door firmly behind him. He took the ring of keys from his pocket and sorted through the keys of various shapes and sizes until he found the small silver one that unlocked the storage area in the bench seat under the window. He extracted a half empty bottle of rum and poured some into a glass before returning the bottle to its hiding place.

  He lowered himself into his captain’s seat and sipped the rum, while enjoying the vista of the Arthur Kill and Staten Island. It was better when all he could see was water, but this would do. It was no surprise he liked the open feel of the water around him. It was a far cry from the trenches in France that still gave him nightmares. When on the open sea nothing could sneak up on you. No bombs could drop on your position from some hidden vantage point, obliterating the men to the left and right of you. You were safe at sea.

  He hated these sojourns on land while waiting to set out again on the next fishing trip.

  He drained his glass, waiting for the numbing effects of the rum to give him the courage to go home to the confining walls of his parents’ house.

  The clatter of feet on the metals steps startled him, and he slammed the glass down as someone pounded on the door.

  “Captain! Uncle Hank! Captain Hank!” It was the clear high voice of one of the Nagy boys.

  He opened the door to see both boys standing there, faces tear streaked, eyes panicked.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s Sari. We can’t find her. Will you help?”

  “Sari? Your sister?” He was already following the boys back down the stairs. “When was the last time anyone saw her?”

  “Mama put her in for a nap before we got home from school, and when she went to check on her later, she wasn’t there. She’s been looking everywhere.”

  “Okay, let me get you two home, and I’ll find out where your mother has already looked. We’ll find her. I promise.”

  He didn’t know if that was a promise he was going to be able to keep, but he’d sure do his darnedest.

  He could get back into town quicker with a car. He steered the boys toward his parents’ house. “I need one of the cars,” he announced as he walked through the door, the boys looking around at the grandeur that was the Chapman family home.

  “Is something wrong?” His father came out of the den to meet him.

  “These are the Nagy boys,” he said. “Their little sister is missing. I need to look for her.”

  Douglas came down the stairs. “Come on. I’ll take you where you need to go.”

  “I just need the car,” Hank said, hating every moment they were wasting. “I am capable of driving.”

  “I know. But I can help look. Or whatever anyone needs. Let’s go.”

  They piled the boys into the back of the car and Douglas drove them over the causeway into town. They pulled up in front of the Nagy house and the boys hopped out and rushed inside, heralding their arrival.

  Hank hurried up the front steps two at a time and let himself into the house, following the boys. He stopped short when he saw Alice and her sister, Marty, standing in the living room with Irene.

  “Oh, Hank! Thank God!” Irene rushed to him, and he took her hands in his. They were ice cold and shaking. “Sari is gone! I look everywhere. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve called the police?” he asked, eyeing Alice, though he noticed she was not in uniform.

  “No,” Alice answered taking a step forward. “I was going to teach Irene how to type.” A black typewriter case lay at her feet. “Marty was going to watch the children. We just got here.”

  Marty rushed to Douglas as he came in, clutching at him.

  “We have to help her find her little girl.”

  “We’ll find her,” Douglas assured her, taking her in his arms. For a
brief, crazy second, Hank wished Alice had rushed into his arms like that.

  “Where have you looked?” he asked Irene. This was no time for petty jealousy. “Have you searched the house?”

  “She wasn’t in her bed and I called for her. I’ve looked in all the rooms.”

  “Did you search under the beds and in the cupboards?” Alice asked, with the authority and clear-headedness that came from being a police officer. “When Marty was little, she used to hide in one of those places and then fall asleep. She sent our mama into a panic any number of times.”

  “Boys!” Hank said in his best captain voice. “I want this place turned inside out. Look in any place Sari could fit. No stone unturned. If she is in the house, you will find her.”

  “Yes, sir!” The boys scampered off.

  “Are there any places that Sari is likely to run off to?” Alice asked before he had a chance to. But it was exactly the question he would have asked, so he had no complaint.

  “She doesn’t go anywhere without me.” Irene wrung her hands. “She’s only five. I don’t know where she would go.”

  “Where have you looked?” Hank asked before Alice had a chance.

  “I’ve been to the neighbors’ houses and the splash pool on School Street and even up to Main Street. I took her for a soda at Woolworth’s last week, and she’s talked about it since. But there was no sign of her all the way up to the Amboy Road.”

  Upstairs they could hear the boys scurrying around, looking in cupboards and under beds. Hank didn’t think the girl was here, though, no matter how much he hoped one of the boys would suddenly proclaim that he’d found her.

  “Would she have gone toward the marina?” Hank asked. “Did she know her brothers were going to be helping me?”

  “I don’t know.” Irene could barely hold back a sob.

  “Alice and I will check the causeway.” He took charge, falling easily into his role as captain. “Douglas and Marty can check in town again. You wait here in case she comes back on her own.”

  Irene shook her head, grabbing at his hand. “No, no! I can’t stay here and do nothing. I must go look.”

  Douglas unwrapped Marty’s arms from around him. “You’ll come with me,” he said to the widow. “We’ll check in town again. Marty will stay here with the boys.”