The Rum Runner

by Christine Marciniak

  The boys in question thundered down the stairs. “She’s nowhere upstairs,” they exclaimed breathlessly. “We have to check downstairs. Maybe she’s in a kitchen cabinet.”

  “Go,” Marty said, with a light touch on Douglas’s arm. “I’ll keep an eye on the boys. And if she really is in one of the cabinets, we’ll be sure to get word to you.”

  Douglas and Irene headed toward town, while he and Alice turned toward the causeway. The sun was setting behind them, lengthening the shadows.

  “It will be dark soon.” Alice stood straight and tall, all business, which made sense given the task at hand. “Perhaps we should get a lantern.”

  “I have one on the boat,” he assured her. “If we get as far as that without finding her, we’ll get it before turning around and looking some more.”

  “If she went this way, do you think she could have fallen in the water?” Alice kept her voice low, even though Douglas and Irene were already clearly out of earshot. “Do you think she can swim?”

  If she came this way, it was very likely she could have fallen in the water. It was also very likely she did not swim. “We’ll find her,” was all he said.

  They walked slowly, looking from side to side, calling her name, knocking on the doors of the few houses along the causeway to see if anyone had seen the child.

  “Little Sari?” the old woman who lived in the last house asked. “I saw her skip past a couple of hours ago. Called out to her, I did. She’s such a little thing, and I thought it was mighty odd she was out on her own. But then, you never do know with foreigners. They have their own ways.”

  Hank’s fists balled up in anger at the way she spoke about foreigners as if the Nagy family, because they came from Hungary, were inferior in some way. With a featherlight touch, Alice put her hand on his arm.

  “You say you called out to her,” she said to the woman. “Did she tell you where she was going?”

  “Something about the boats. She was going to help her brothers work on a boat. Some nonsense like that. I told her to go home. She was too young to be out and about on her own.” The woman said with a definite air of self-righteousness.

  “And did she go home?” Alice asked, and Hank was amazed at how calm she was able to sound.

  “I assume so, if she was an obedient child she would have, but…” The old woman shrugged. “You never can tell with these foreigners.”

  Hank took a step forward, but Alice’s gentle touch held him back.

  “Thank you,” Alice said and guided him away from the woman’s front door.

  “What were you going to do?” she asked as the door shut behind them. “Beat up an old woman?”

  Realizing how ridiculous that would have been, he shrugged. “I suppose not, but…”

  “No buts,” Alice said, her voice firm. “We know we are on the right track. There’s no time to waste.”

  Of course she was right. She was maddeningly right.

  They walked side by side, alert to any clue that might lead them to Sari. Why had he decided he shouldn’t see Alice anymore? Just because she was a cop and he was a rum runner? Because he didn’t want to impose his damaged self on anyone? Nothing felt more natural than to be working with her. She was calm and organized, not at all like the fluttery females he often found himself spending time with.

  They reached the bridge over the Woodbridge River, and he prepared to cross, heading toward Sewaren and the boats.

  “Wait,” Alice said, reaching out for his arm. “Would Sari know where the boats are? Would she have followed the river?”

  It was a good point. If she had gone all the way into Sewaren and the marina they would have seen her on their way back into town, but no one had. Would a little girl, knowing that boats go on water, have followed the river instead?

  To the north of the bridge the area was too swampy for even a child to get far, but there was a path on the south side. It was muddy and overgrown with brambles and nettles, and it led right to Jiggy’s hut. The last thing Hank wanted to do was bring Alice to Jiggy Malone. But if there was any chance Sari might have gone this way they had to check.

  “You’re going to ruin your shoes,” Hank said as they slogged along the path.

  Alice looked down at her feet and picked one foot gingerly out of the mud. “I suppose so.” She shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter, does it? I can buy new shoes. Sari would be a lot harder to replace.”

  She stooped to study a thorn and called to him.

  “Look, a scrap of cloth. Do you think it could be from Sari’s dress?”

  They hadn’t even bothered to ask Irene what the girl was wearing. They should have asked.

  “It might be.” He called out the girl’s name once more.

  “A footprint!” Alice shouted jubilantly. “And it’s about the right size!”

  Hank breathed a sigh of relief. At least up to this point she hadn’t fallen in the water. He called the girl’s name again. Louder. And then paused, listening closely for any response. Perhaps she had fallen and gotten hurt. Perhaps they would hear a whimper from her instead of an answer. He had to be alert to anything.

  But there was nothing. He couldn’t imagine what Irene would do if she lost Sari so soon after losing Tomas. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

  Ahead of him, Alice was searching the area diligently. She was putting her all into this search. Perhaps it was due to her job as a police officer. It was the kind of thing she was trained to do. But he rather felt that to her it was personal. That finding Sari meant as much to her as it did to him.

  Alice called out Sari’s name, but he was afraid her voice wasn’t resonant enough to carry far. He echoed her call. This time they got an answer. But it wasn’t the cry of a little girl. Instead a man’s voice called out, “Ho! She’s here!”

  Alice looked back at him, startled.

  “We’ve found her!”

  They had, Hank realized as a wave of relief washed over him. To be more specific, Jiggy Malone had found her, for that was who had called out. There’d be no keeping Alice from meeting Jiggy now. He just hoped that in discussing Sari, there’d be no talk of rum running.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alice broke into a run, following the voice that had called out to them. She rounded the bend and saw a stocky man with a long mustache standing outside a ramshackle hut on the edge of the river, a beat-up dock in front of it. There was a small motor boat, maybe a sixteen-footer, tied at the dock.

  “You found Sari?” she asked, barely stopping to catch her breath.

  “Small lassie, about five? Dark braids and a talkative nature?”

  “That’s her.” Hank came up behind her and put a hand protectively on her shoulder. “Where is she?”

  The man nodded toward the cabin. “She fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. First, she told me all about her life and her family, and of course, her favorite, Uncle Hank. She’s Tomas’s daughter?” The last bit wasn’t entirely a question, more of a clarification.

  “She is.” Hank gave a slight squeeze to her shoulder and she couldn’t understand the trepidation she felt coming from him. They’d found Sari. Everything was all right.

  Alice held out her hand to the stranger, though clearly, he wasn’t a stranger to Hank.

  “I’m Alice Grady,” she introduced herself.

  The man looked her up and down in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. He took hold of her hand and shook it.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Grady. Jiggy Malone, at your service.”

  So maybe that explained Hank’s reaction. She’d found Jiggy Malone. This wasn’t the time to ask the questions she had, but now she knew what he looked like and where to find him.

  “You would be Sean Grady’s daughter?” Jiggy still gripped her hand

  “I would.” Of course he knew her father. Everyone in town had known him, or so it seemed.

  “I was in the Knights of Columbus with him,” he said, finally letting go of her hand. Somehow
this didn’t surprise Alice at all.

  “You are in the Knights of Columbus?” Hank asked, astounded skepticism in his voice.

  “I’m a deep man, Hank. A very deep man.” He nodded toward the shack. “I suppose you want to see the little one.”

  “She’s not hurt, is she?” Alice asked. Just because she was safely asleep now didn’t mean she hadn’t had misadventures on her way here.

  “Tired and a bit muddy, a few scratches and scrapes, but those may have been from earlier, hard to tell.” Jiggy grinned, showing one gold tooth off to the side. “She’s fine.”

  He led them into the shack where Sari was curled up on a cot, sound asleep, her hands tucked under her cheek, looking like a little angel. One glance told Alice that Sari was unharmed, and then she spared some attention to look around. Bare boards, with chinks letting the light through, made up the walls, although with only two small windows, one in the front and one in the back, there was not a lot of natural light in the shack. A gas lamp on a Formica-topped table cast a cozy glow. A spirit lamp with kettle sat on the table, along with two teacups, one empty, one still half full.

  “She was thirsty, and the best I had to offer her was a bit of tea.”

  “Very kind of you,” Alice said.

  “Not at all,” Jiggy answered. “Just doing the Christian thing.”

  Hank went straight to the cot and gently picked Sari up in his strong arms. She settled against his shoulder, waking up only long enough to look at him and murmur, “There you are, Uncle Hank. I was looking for you.” She patted his face with her tiny hand and drifted back to sleep.

  Alice’s heart softened toward Hank even more. He tried to put on this veneer of a hardened man of the world, but he was as gentle as a teddy bear with this little girl.

  “I can take you down the river in the boat,” Jiggy said, uncertainty in his words, as if he wasn’t sure how the suggestion would be taken.

  “Thank you,” she said taking a step toward the dock.

  “No,” Hank said firmly. “It will be easier to walk. There’s no place close to their house to tie up anyway.”

  Jiggy shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “Thank you very much.” Alice held out a hand to him. “Her mother will be grateful to know you kept her safe.”

  The tips of Jiggy’s ears turned red. “Least I could do, least I could do,” he murmured.

  “It’s getting dark,” she said to Hank as he turned to head down the path toward home. “Don’t you think it would make more sense to take him up on his offer of the boat?”

  “No.”

  The answer was so short and curt that it took her by surprise. Clearly there was a reason Hank didn’t want to spend more time with Jiggy than need be. Perhaps he knew of his involvement in rum running and disapproved of him. But he knew that Tomas was involved, and he thought of him as a brother. There was more here than met the eye, and she intended to find out what it was.

  Hank walked quickly, and even though he was carrying the child, she struggled to keep up with him.

  “You know Mr. Malone?” she asked, when the path narrowed, and he had to slow down some. It wasn’t precisely a question.

  “I’ve met him before,” Hank admitted.

  “I’ve heard rumors about him.” Alice tried to keep her voice neutral as she pushed branches out of her way.

  Hank’s head jerked toward her and his brows came together in consternation. “There are rumors about everyone if you listen hard enough. Probably even about you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. She wasn’t expecting that sort of response. She figured he’d ask what kind of rumors and that would lead into a discussion about rum running and pirates and maybe give her some clues as to where to look for the reason for Tomas’s death. She didn’t think it was as simple as robbery.

  He was trying to divert her. He wanted her to ask what rumors there could be about her. But she knew these kinds of tactics. She’d interviewed enough suspects, and the ones she hadn’t interviewed personally she’d typed up the reports of their conversations. And while it was natural for her to wonder what rumors there were about her, if any, she could probably guess. After all, she was a woman in what was traditionally a man’s role. There would be speculation that she had slept her way into her position or that she was too manly a woman to interest a real man. But rumors were just that, only rumors. She gave them no credence. Besides, she knew the truth. Anyone else could as well, if they cared to investigate.

  Maybe a direct approach was better when dealing with Hank.

  “Do you think he had anything to do with Tomas’s death?”

  “I thought they caught the man who shot Tomas.” It wasn’t exactly an answer.

  Was he hiding something from her? He clearly knew Jiggy, and presumably knew his activities. He knew that Tomas was a rum runner. What else did he know?

  “How do you know Jiggy Malone?”

  Hank sighed and shifted the sleeping child in his arms. “He has a boat. I have a boat. You get to know people.”

  Undoubtedly that was true, but she suspected there was more to it than that.

  Sari stirred, and raised her head, opening her eyes and looking around. “I want to go home, Uncle Hank.”

  “We’re going there now,” he said gently.

  Alice’s shoulders slumped slightly. So much for getting any information from him about Jiggy. But it didn’t matter. She knew where to find Jiggy herself now. It was enough.

  The silence was now broken by a newly energized Sari.

  “I had an adventure! I wanted to help Ernst and Kristof work on the boat. It sounded like fun. I wanted to swab. I bet I could swab. Do you think I could swab, Uncle Hank?”

  “I think you’d be a master swabber,” he answered cheerfully.

  “But I didn’t find your boat. I looked all along the river but didn’t see it.”

  “You should have waited for someone to take you.” There was no censure in his voice. “It’s not on the river, but on the Arthur Kill.”

  “Oh.” Sari took a moment to absorb this information. “Next time?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Jiggy gave me tea. He’s nice. He says he has the gift of blarney. Do you think I can get that gift too? I like gifts. What’s blarney?”

  Alice smiled as the girl prattled on and on and Hank answered when she paused long enough. Walking behind him, she enjoyed the view of his lean, muscular body. He moved with the grace of an athlete. She could appreciate it now that they had found Sari safe and sound.

  It didn’t take them long to get back to the house, where Marty was keeping the boys occupied by playing poker with them. She threw down her cards when they came in carrying Sari.

  “Oh! Thank goodness she’s okay. Where was she?”

  “She was by the river,” Hank answered, and it was not lost on Alice that he didn’t mention Jiggy’s hut. He set Sari down and she was immediately besieged by her brothers, who wanted to know everything. “I’ll go find Douglas and Irene and tell them Sari is safe.”

  Marty pulled Alice into the kitchen, leaving the door open so they could keep one eye on the children. It wouldn’t do if they lost one of them now. Marty poured a cup of tea for Alice from the waiting pot and then put the kettle on the stove. “Irene will want a cup, I’m sure, when she gets back. She’ll appreciate a fresh pot.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “You let your tea sit so long before you drink it, it’s usually lukewarm by the time you get to it anyway. The old tea will do fine for you.” Leave it to a younger sister to not pull any punches. “She was by the river?”

  “An old fisherman found her and kept her safe in his hut. She was trying to get to Hank’s boat but followed the river instead of going to Sewaren.”

  “Lucky that old fisherman was around.”

  Alice held the cup of tea in her hands and took a sip. She nodded absently. Lucky indeed. But the real luck was that she now knew who Jiggy was and where to find him. His secluded h
ut on the river would be a perfect spot for rum runners to bring in their contraband, if that, indeed was what he was up to.

  “Alice?”

  By the way Marty said her name, Alice suspected she’d said it more than once.

  “What?”

  “You were a hundred miles away.”

  “Sorry. Just relieved we found Sari.”

  “Right. I suppose spending some quality time with Hank didn’t hurt either.”

  Alice’s face flushed, and she knew her cheeks were turning red, but there was no point in trying to lie to her little sister. “No, it didn’t.”

  Before long, Hank was back with Douglas and Irene. Irene scooped her little girl up and held her tight, speaking rapidly to her in Hungarian. Alice didn’t know what she was saying but based on tone and body language she suspected it was along the lines of “I was so worried. I’m glad you are all right. I love you. Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

  There would be no typing lesson tonight.

  “I’ll leave the typewriter here and come back tomorrow,” Alice said to Irene, who was ensconced on her sofa, still holding Sari tight.

  “Not tomorrow. The viewing for Tomas is tomorrow, and the funeral Wednesday. Maybe come back Thursday?” Irene said, looking up at her with entreating eyes.

  “Of course.” How could she not have taken the wake and funeral into account?

  “I’ll drive you girls home,” Douglas said, already standing in the doorway.

  Hank held up one hand to hold his brother off and turned to Irene.

  “Have you had dinner?”

  She looked up at him as if startled by the question.

  “I didn’t think so,” Hank said and turned to his brother. “You take Marty home. Alice and I will cook Irene and the kids some dinner.”

  Douglas and Marty didn’t waste any time leaving.

  “I can’t actually cook,” Alice said to Hank, following him into the kitchen. It was rather embarrassing to admit it, but it would be silly to hide the fact.

  “That’s okay, I can.” He handed her an apron. “You can be my assistant.”