Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde
“It’s me, open up,” she heard him say.
Turning, she looked over the seat and saw Howie crouching at the door. She quickly released the lock and he slipped into the back seat.
“Stay down and don’t turn around, just listen,” he whispered softly.
She relaxed her grip on the knife but felt her shoulders stiffen. “What’s going on, Howie? Whatever it is, I know it’s not good.”
“Listen, Babe, this is important,” he said from the back seat. “Do not go back to the house. Is David there now?”
“No, he’s at his friend Phillip’s house. I’m going to pick him up on my way home from here.”
“Well, get him and then go to that motel with the small court yard on Kedzie and Lincoln across from Lincoln Village. It’s all arranged. Just tell them you want the room for Mrs. Howard. They’ll take care of you and won’t ask any questions.
“Why, what’s going on?” Her fingers curled around the knife again. “Jesus Christ Howie, are we in danger?”
“It’s Paschey. Something’s happened to him and I gotta get organized. You won’t be able to reach me for a few days.”
“Whatta you mean? Howie, I’m scared,” she said, her hand covering her mouth. Reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror, she saw Howie peering out at the parking lot.
“Look, I’m going to be out of town for a few days, but I’ll be in touch. Just remember whatever you do, don’t go home.”
Sliding down again, she snapped, “Howie, what the hell are David and I supposed to do for clothes and for money? Is he in danger right now? Should we—”
“Please Shirley, will ya shut up and listen? Wait two days and then call Fred Berman. You remember him, the lawyer who handled the closing on our house. Here’s his number,” he said, handing her a business card and an envelope. “There’s enough money for the next week and I’ll get you more through Fred, if you need it. Now, I gotta go and don’t worry. Just do as I say.”
The door opened and Howie slipped out.
Bewildered, she slouched down not moving for several minutes before starting the car. Driving to pick up David, she quickly devised a plan to tell him that they were going to a motel for a few days because of a suspected gas leak in the house and would return after it was fixed.
David did not take it well. “What kind of leak? Why can’t Dad get someone to fix it? And what am I supposed to do about school tomorrow?”
“Don’t give me an argument,” she shouted. “We have to do as Dad said, and don’t worry, I’ll drive you to school in the morning.”
He shrugged, raising his hands. “Mom, are you okay?”
“Please David, let’s not talk now, I just want to get to the motel.”
Arriving at the motel, they were ushered into a large room at street level with two king-sized beds. David sat on a bed, waiting while Shirley carefully checked out the room and then sat on the bed across from him.
“Mom, what’s going on? You’re acting strange. And where’s Dad?”
A sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders slumped. Shaking her head and looking down as he watched, not saying anything, she finally said, “look, honey, something happened to Dad’s friend Paschey and Dad is worried, so he wants us out of the house for a few days. I don’t know what it is, but he was concerned because he had to go out of town on important business for a few days and thought it would be better if we weren’t home.”
“What is it with that old guy? He’s so gross. I know Dad plays cards with him and whenever we go to a restaurant downtown, people always ask about him.”
“Look David, he does business with him and has to be nice
to him
.”
“Yeah, I know but don’t you remember that article in the Tribune last year that Dad brought home and got mad at me when I read it and asked him if the Paschey they mentioned in the story was the same guy as his friend.”
“Forget about it David. I told you they know each other and do some business together.”
“I know but it is cool that everybody on Rush Street knows him and Dad and ask them about the football and baseball games.”
“Enough already, We’re trying to be careful and if something bad happened to Dad’s friend, he’s upset and wants to make sure it’s not about some business deal they were in together.” That’s all.”
Turning on the television she tried to find a late news station, but finally settled on the Steve Allen show.
“Let’s watch for awhile and then try to get some sleep. We’ll have to be up early to get you to school in the morning and while you’re there, I’ll find out what’s going on.”
In the morning, while David was taking a shower, she slipped out and bought a newspaper at the motel office. Glancing at it, she ran out and leaned against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath.
“Mob Boss Found”,
screamed the headline of the Chicago Tribune on Tuesday, April 3, 1961. Beneath it was a grisly picture of a blood-soaked Paschey curled up in the trunk of his Cadillac.
The story accompanying the photo read:
The body of reputed mob connected leader Paul “Paschey” Cohen was discovered at 10 p.m. Monday in the trunk of his late-model Cadillac Sedan de Ville, in the parking lot at Ravenswood Hospital. He had been missing since leaving his home at seven Monday morning.
Dwayne Cosgrove 32, a security guard at the hospital, noticed the Cadillac in a space reserved for doctors and went to investigate. He noticed blood leaking from the trunk and found the latch slightly open and lifted it, revealing the body. The police arrived moments later and identified Cohen, who had been stabbed and strangled.
Reports have circulated that Cohen, reputed head of a large illegal gambling organization and loan shark business, who has never been convicted of a crime, had been feuding with Joe “Goggles” Angelo for more than a year over control of gambling operations on the north side of the city.
Three additional unsolved murders in the last eighteen months are believed connected to this latest slaying. The first was alleged Cohen associate Frank Klein, whose body was found in the parking lot at O’Hare Airport in August of last year. In December, two, reputed members of Angelo’s organization, Gerald “Jelly” Marrinella and Felix “The Cat” Lucaso were found beaten and strangled in an abandoned storage shed in Lake Zurich.
Angelo had met Cohen’s former boss, the late Frank Palumbo at Joliet State Prison while serving a seven-year sentence for a bank holdup in 1946 of Talman Savings on south Western Avenue. After his release in 1953, Angelo reportedly began staking out a territory for himself on Chicago’s Northwest Side. An alleged move by him into Cohen’s loan sharking turf ignited the current mob warfare, which police sources believe will lead to more bloodshed before this dispute is resolved.
Discarding the newspaper, Shirley returned to the room to find David waiting with his school books on the bed and the TV turned to the news.
Startled he looked up as she entered, “Paschey’s dead,” he said.
“Oh honey, I know,” she said putting her arms around him.
“What about Dad?” his voice shaking as he trembled in her grasp. “Where is he?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “He’s not involved with this.”
“Please Mom, I’m not such a baby that I don’t know something is going on. Dad always closes doors when he makes mysterious phone calls and then disappears without a word and doesn’t come home until the middle of the night. What is he doing?
Looking away Shirley didn’t answer.
“I don’t even know what he does for a living. Other kids father’s have jobs or businesses. All I know is he gambles and has some strange friends like Paschey. Most people go to work in the morning and are at home at night. Why isn’t he here?”
“He’s out of town working on something new,” she said trying to hold him as he pulled away.
“That old guy Paschey always scared me.. I don’t know how Dad could stand him and he always uses swear words.”
Putting her hand on David’s shoulder, she tried to calm him, “Look honey, Dad assured me that he knew something had happened to Paschey, but he is not involved. He is worried though and wants us to be careful. That’s all I know.”
Turning he let her hug him and rested his head next to hers.
“You know what? Things are sorta hectic right now. How would you like a day off? I know I can use one. Let’s go for breakfast at Walker’s in Wilmette.
“Hmm,” he smiled and after a long silence shrugged. “Will you split an apple pancake with me?”
“Sure; let’s.go,” she said, slowly rubbing his back and rising. .“I also promised Grandma I’d be at her house a little later.”
Holding out her hand, he took it and pulled her up.
They got to the Siegal’s at eleven. “Oh you brought David, isn’t that a nice surprise? No school today?” Molly said as they walked into the entry hall. She pulled David to her in a hug.
“And how ‘bout you?” she asked Shirley, looking over her glasses.
With a quick shake of her head, Shirley replied, “I’m good, but need a favor. David, why don’t you turn on the television in the living room for a few minutes? I want to talk with Grandma about something private.”
“Sure Mom,” he said, as Shirley guided Molly into the kitchen.
Mrs. Siegal poured coffee into china cups and sat down. “I heard about Paschey Cohen,” she whispered.
“Mom, Howie hasn’t had much to do with him for quite some time. In fact, he’s out of town right now working on something new. So I don’t know anything about Paschey except Howie told me not to worry about anything.”
Mrs. Siegal shook her head slowly. “Are you sure? Your father called me early this morning really upset, as soon as he got to the office. He’d heard the news on the radio and wanted to know where you were. He said you weren’t home when he called and asked me to call him as soon as I heard from you.”
“You know Daddy has never approved of Howie and is always cautioning me about him. But don’t worry. I talked to him last night and everything is okay. He did tell me to be careful, but not to worry, he would be home soon.”
Putting her hand on Shirley’s, Molly sighed. “Shirley, you know we worry about you and David, what with Howie’s line of work. I hope you’re right.”
“Please, Mom, I know you care, but right now, I think everything is under control. Howie did tell me, though, to be careful and stay away from our house for a few days. So I’ve arranged for David and me to stay at Doris’s place for a week. I also want to rent a car because everyone recognizes my station wagon. Will you help me with that? I need you to rent it in your name.”
“Certainly, but are you sure it’s okay to do that?
“Yeah, people do it all the time. But do me a favor, don’t say anything to Daddy. “I know how crazy he gets about anything to do with Howie.”
“I can’t lie to your father, but maybe I won’t say anything right now.” Mrs. Siegal nodded, holding her cup at her lips. “When do we have to get the car?”
“How about a half an hour and then maybe we’ll all go to a show; “West Side Story” is playing at the Granada and I can use a little diversion
right now
.”
On Mannheim Road near the airport, they rented a black, four-door Chevy and drove it to a small strip mall in Skokie two blocks from the Rabin’s house and parked it. Then Molly drove them to pick up the station wagon at her house. Mrs. Siegal begged off going to the movie so the two of them went alone.
Afterward, they drove to a quiet street two blocks from their house and parked the station wagon. From there they walked to where they had left the Chevy and drove to Doris’ house, near Devonshire Park in Skokie.
Ten minutes after they arrived, Shirley’s father called. She took his call in the kitchen while Doris went out to the living room and David settled in his cousin’s bedroom to listen to some records. When she hung up, Shirley went to sit with her sister.
“How’s Daddy?” Doris asked, turning off the TV.
“You should’ve heard him. He screamed about Howie. Calling him a son of a bitch and telling me that he’d warned me about him. He just wouldn’t let up. I let him rant and rave about how he’s no good and I should get rid of him. And when I told him Howie was out of town, he went ballistic. Finally he sorta ran out of steam and let me know that I could count on him to be there for me and David.”
“Oh, baby,” Doris said, holding her hand as they sat on the couch. “What about Howie; where is he?”
“Please, Doris. I really don’t feel like talking right now. He’s okay. All I know is that he’s working on something new out of town and should be home in a few days.”
“You know what Daddy said goes for me and Jerry too. Anything you need, you just let me know.”
With her hands covering her eyes, Shirley whispered, “
Thank you
.”
Two days later, she went to meet Fred Berman at his office in an older building on Dearborn near Van Buren. Exiting the elevator on the fourth floor, her high heels clicking on the white marble floor, she walked up to the heavy, wood-framed glass doors of the suite. Finding his name, she pushed open the door and went in.
The carpeted reception area had four maroon leather chairs. Occupying one was an older man in a suit holding a briefcase on his lap and reading the Wall Street Journal. He didn’t bother to look up when she entered. From behind a small, sliding glass window, a young woman in a tailored suit asked if she had an appointment.
“Mrs. Shirley Rabin to see Mr. Berman,” she said.
Before she had a chance to be seated, the receptionist opened the door to the inner office and ushered her in, leading the way along a wall lined with dull green metal file cabinets. As they walked, a well-dressed man at the water cooler nodded. Two secretaries typing at light-colored wooden desks piled with stacks of papers ignored her.
Almost tripping as she caught her heel on the wrinkled tweed carpet, she steadied herself against a cabinet. Phone conversations and the steady click of typewriters gave the impression it was a busy place. As they approached a private office, the receptionist stopped, knocked on the door frame and announced, “Mrs. Rabin.”.
She recognized him as soon as she walked in. Plain-looking but well built with a receding hairline, she remembered liking his light blue eyes. As he stood to greet her, she saw that even though he was only of moderate height, his finely tailored pinstripe suit gave the impression that he was taller.