The Heavenly Fugitive (28 page)

“That doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Liar! You’ll try to kill him one day. But if you do, you’re a dead man, Leo. You don’t know what a pest I can make of myself, but let me tell you this. If anything happens to him, I’ll personally see to it you go down.”

Marx remained silent, and Phil, seeing that he was not going to respond, turned and walked away.

Prado muttered to his boss, “Wouldn’t be a bad idea to blast him, Leo.”

Leo Marx was evil, but he was not stupid. “Leave him alone, Jake. We’ll fix him someday, but we’ll do it smart.”

“What about Kildare?”

“His time will come too, but don’t touch it for a while.”

When Phil returned to the table and sat down, Amelia did not speak for a moment. She had watched the encounter and had seen the hatred that emanated from the two thugs. “What’d you say to them, Phil?”

“I told them to leave Ryan alone.”

“Do you think they will?”

“They’d better.” Phil’s words were clipped, and there was a hardness in his face Amelia had not seen before. She realized what a deadly game he was involved in. No man could be soft when dealing with vermin like Leo Marx. Her voice trembled as she said, “I wish you had some other job, Phil.”

Phil reached over and took her hand, smiling slightly. “I wish the same for you, Amelia.”

****

Three days after Phil had visited her at the Black Cat, Amelia heard a knock at her apartment door. She opened the door and for a moment stood there confused. She had seen this young man before but could not remember when.

“Hello, Amelia. I’m Wes Winslow.”

Instantly memory came flooding back. “Why, of course, Wes, come in. I’m so glad to see you.” As the young man entered, she noted his rather shy manner, his lean but strong-looking figure. She had met him at a family reunion. He was the son of Aaron and Gail Winslow. Suddenly she remembered the wonderful article she had read in the
National Geographic,
with the story written by Emily, Wes’s sister,
and photographs by Wes himself. The whole family was very proud of the pair.

“Well, sit down and tell me what all you’ve been doing, Wes. Going around taking beautiful pictures, I suppose?”

Wes smiled shyly and ran his hand through his crisp hair. “Well, not exactly, cousin. I’m doing a story on New York with Robert Alden.”

“Oh, you’re moving up in the world!” Alden was a prominent writer who did pieces on different cities. He had recently won a Pulitzer for his book on Los Angeles.

“How did that all happen, Wes?”

“Oh, he saw my pictures in the
Geographic
and wrote me a letter. He asked me to work with him on his new book.”

“It’s going to be about New York?”

“That’s right. He wants to get it all. The Jazz Age, the flaming youth, and even the criminals. Say, do you know any gangsters, Amelia?”

“Well, I’ve met a few. Would you like me to introduce you?”

Wes said, “No, that’s not necessary, but I do want to get some pictures of the Water Street Mission. Your uncle found out what I was doing, and he asked me to document the mission in my photos.”

“Uncle Barney?”

“Yes.”

“I can surely take you there. When would you like to go?”

“Oh, anytime you’re available. I know you’re busy. Your uncle told me that you’re a professional singer now.”

“Well, I sing in saloons. If you can call that professional, I guess I am.” She smiled wryly and shook her head. “As you can imagine, Wes, none of our family is in love with the idea of my being a nightclub singer.”

Wes did not answer at once but finally said, “Well, you’ll find your way. All of us have to do that. Would tonight be all right?”

“We can go this morning—right now—if you’d like. I’m singing tonight.”

“That would be great, Amelia.”

****

Wes was loaded down with two bulky leather bags containing his cameras and equipment as he and Amelia walked into the Water Street Mission. He’d been looking forward to meeting the director of the mission, a tall man with kindly blue eyes named Roger Helms. Helms was interested in the project that Wes was doing with Alden and said, “I hope you can get us some coverage. We need all the help we can get to let the public know what we’re doing.”

“Well, I’ll do all I can.”

Helms turned to Amelia and said, “Your brother told me you know Ryan Kildare. Did you know that he now has an office right down the street?”

“No, I hadn’t heard that.”

“He’s doing a good job. So many people in trouble who don’t have the money for a lawyer. He stays pretty busy.”

“You say his office is just down the street?”

“Yes, just on the other side of the newspaper office.”

Amelia saw that Wes had already started taking pictures of the mission, and she stayed in the background. Wes Winslow was a shy young man, but with his camera in hand, he became almost aggressive. He took shot after shot of the workers and the building, but mostly of the people who came in for help. Finally, after an hour, she suggested, “Why don’t you come back tonight when there’s a meeting?”

“All right,” Wes agreed. “But I think I’ll stay around now for a while longer. Just to talk to the people.”

“I’ll leave you, then. I’ll be back a little later, Wes.”

“Okay, Amelia.”

Leaving the mission, Amelia walked down the street thinking about Ryan Kildare. She had ambivalent thoughts about him. The man he used to be and the man he now was did not seem to match in her mind. Nonetheless, she was curious to find out what he was up to now. When she reached the
newspaper office, she saw that huddled in just beside it was a small, narrow building with a hand-printed sign reading Ryan Kildare, Attorney. She hesitated for a moment and then walked inside the door. Moving down the hallway, she found his office and stepped inside without knocking. There was no outer office. It was simply one large room. On one side a few law books leaned against each other on a homemade shelf, and behind the battered pine desk sat Ryan. A woman with bleached-blond hair sat next to the desk.

Ryan at once stood up and greeted Amelia.

“Oh, I see you’re busy.”

“We’re just finishing up,” Ryan said, then turned to the woman next to him. “Ruby, don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”

“Thanks, Ryan.” The woman was cheaply dressed and wore too much rouge. There was a bold aggressiveness about her, and she flashed a familiar smile at Kildare. “Give me a call. Maybe I’ll buy you dinner for helping me out.”

“Sometime. You watch yourself, Ruby.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of trouble, Counselor.”

The woman left, trailing an odor of cheap perfume, and Ryan shook his head. “Too bad,” he said. “It’s good to see you, Amelia. Won’t you sit down?”

“Oh, I just dropped by to see your office,” Amelia said. “Is that one of your clients?”

“I’m afraid so. She’s headed for real trouble.”

The woman was obviously a prostitute, and Amelia wondered what would be “real” trouble for a woman of her occupation. She said, “I just brought one of my relatives down to the mission. His name is Wesley Winslow. He’s a photographer, and he’s working with the writer Robert Alden on a book about the city.”

“I read the
Geographic
all the time. I remember that article he did with his sister. It was very good.” He asked, “Are you on your way home?”

“Not yet. I’m going to go back to the mission after a while to see if Wes is done taking pictures.”

“Time for a bite to eat? I’m starved.”

Amelia hesitated, then said, “Yes, I believe I could eat.”

“They make a mean ravioli across the street. The decor’s not much, but the food’s great.”

“I love ravioli.”

Amelia followed him across the street, dodging the traffic. When they entered the small café, a young man in the kitchen spotted them and called out through the serving window into the dining room, “Hey, Mr. Kildare!”

“How are you, Charlie?”

“Doing real good. You tell me what you want. I’ll fix it.”

“We’d like some of that extra-special ravioli you make.” Ryan guided Amelia over to the pass-through window and introduced her to the cook. “This is Phil Winslow’s sister, Charlie. Amelia, this is Charlie Zlinter. Phil helped Charlie out a lot.”

“He sure did.” Charlie smiled broadly and reached out to shake hands through the window. “You tell him hello from me, Miss Winslow.”

“I’ll do that, Charlie.”

They sat down, and Amelia was soon engrossed in listening to Ryan Kildare tell her about the cases he handled now for the poor. Amelia was amazed at how much Ryan had changed. He seemed to be getting real joy out of working among these people who couldn’t help themselves.

The meal came quickly, Charlie bringing it out himself on two platters. She smiled up at him and said, “This smells wonderful.”

“Eat all you want, Miss Winslow. There’s plenty more. Tell your brother to come by here sometime. It’ll be on the house.”

“I got Charlie a job here after he had his trouble,” Ryan explained. “He’s doing real well.”

“You really like what you’re doing, don’t you, Ryan?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Quite a bit different from what you used to do with Tony Morino, huh?”

Ryan shook his head and said quietly, “Yes, it certainly is.” For some time he remained silent, and the two of them enjoyed their meal without speaking. Finally Ryan said, “I wasted a lot of my life, but I’m on the right track now. As strange as it may sound, the best thing that ever happened to me was to get in trouble and have my life threatened. I would never have found the Lord if that hadn’t happened. I guess a lot of people find God like that when they hit bottom.”

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s probably true.”

“I admire your brother so much. He’s doing a hard job and a dangerous one.”

“I’ve tried to get him to find a less dangerous occupation, but he won’t listen to me.”

“I guess he’s a little bit stubborn—like you.”

Amelia laughed. “You think that, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What about you?”

“I’m
firm.
You’re
stubborn.
”

Amelia laughed, then said nothing more as they finished their meal. They left the café and crossed the street to get back to Ryan’s office, only to find the doorway blocked by two men. Instantly Ryan stepped in front of Amelia. “We don’t want any trouble, fellas.”

“Jush give ush a bit of money, and we’ll let ya go,” one man slurred. The two had obviously been drinking.

“Here, I’ll do it,” Amelia said quickly, pulling open her purse.

“No you won’t.” Ryan shook his head and stopped her. “You two move along, or you’ll find yourselves in trouble.”

The men laughed, and one of them, the larger of the two, stepped forward and put his hand on Ryan’s chest. He shoved him backward, causing Ryan to stagger. “You wanna keep your health, don’t ya?”

“Do you want to keep yours?”

At the strange voice beside them, the two men whirled to
see a huge man. The bigger of the two flashed a conciliatory smile. “Hey there, Dom!”

“Be on your way, Fred, and take your friend with you.”

“Why, sure, Dom, anything you shay.”

With cold eyes, Dominic Costello watched the drunks disappear down the street, then turned to Ryan and smiled. “You two don’t need to be roaming around this neighborhood.”

“I guess not,” Ryan said. “Thanks a lot, Dominic.”

“No charge. Fact is, I came down lookin’ for you, Amelia. I went to the mission, and they said you went lookin’ for the counselor here.”

“What is it, Dom?”

“Well, to tell the truth, I’m lookin’ for both of you. Mr. Morino would like to see you, Ryan.”

“What about?”

“Can’t say.”

Ryan shook his head, but when Dom urged him to comply with Morino’s request, he agreed. “I’ll go see him, but I can’t imagine why.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Say, Miss Amelia, why don’t you come along?”

“Me? What for?”

“It’s Miss Rosa. She’s been real sick with the flu. Going crazy in the house. If you got nothin’ else goin’, it would be nice if you could come and visit her.”

“I wouldn’t mind, but I’ve got my cousin with me. He’s down at the mission right now taking pictures.”

“Bring him along.”

Amelia thought of Wes’s statement that he’d like to meet a real gangster, and an impulse seized her. “All right, we’ll go get him.”

“He ain’t a cop or nothin’, is he?”

“No, he’s a professional photographer.”

“Hey, that’s good! Tony’s boy, Jamie, is crazy for cameras and takin’ pictures. Maybe he could talk to the kid.”

The three walked the rest of the way to the mission and
discovered that Wesley was finished. After introductions, they all piled into Dom’s car, and Dom began speaking to Ryan in the front seat. Amelia leaned over to Wes in the backseat and whispered, “Well, you wanted to meet a gangster. You’re going to meet the biggest in New York. Big Tony Morino.”

“No fooling?”

“No fooling, Wes.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

An Afternoon With the Morinos

As Dom pulled the big sedan up in front of the Morino home, he turned to face Ryan and also glanced back toward Amelia and Wes. Clearing his throat nervously, he said, “It’s been a while since you’ve seen Mr. Morino. He’s a little bit different now.” He hesitated, his words coming with difficulty. “His health ain’t been too good lately, and he’s had some . . . well, some business reverses.”

Ryan smiled wryly. “Tony was never noted for his fine manners.”

“Sure, sure. I’m just telling you he’s a little bit edgy. More so than usual. Come on in. He’ll be expecting us.”

Getting out of the car, the three visitors followed Dominic, who held the front door open. When they were inside, he said, “Let me see if he’s ready for you, Ryan.” He walked swiftly down the hall. Opening a pair of double doors, he found Morino sitting behind his desk. “They’re here, Mr. Morino.”

“Who’s
they?
I just sent you to get Kildare.”

“Well, that’s who I went for, but it turned out a little bit different. He was with Miss Amelia Winslow. You remember her?”