1929 (28 page)

They started with the two empty storefronts
at the bottom of the building. They were half-sunken; the store
window at street level, with six steps down to the store
entrance.

“These could command higher rent if they were
fixed up,” he commented, unlocking the door to the first one. The
window had been broken, and it was filthy and neglected inside. It
looked to Aryl that this had been a bakery with rounded, glass
cabinets and a wood fire oven at the rear of the store. It needed
wall repair, paint, fumigating and deep cleaning.

The second storefront wasn’t as badly
run-down and looked like it might have been a general store with
shelves along both walls and a display counter in the middle. Mr.
Fuller took Aryl through each vacant apartment, introducing him to
a few tenants, who poked their heads out to investigate. Two of the
apartments had two bedrooms, and Aryl knew, if the price was right,
there would be a tremendous demand for those. He hadn’t seen
anything in the building that scared him away from the idea. Walls
with holes, doors hanging from the hinges, bugs, and rats were all
things he had been used to dealing with for the last couple of
months. They ended the tour and settled back down at Mr. Fuller’s
table.

“Well, sir, I can tell you that I am
extremely interested.” Mr. Fuller’s eyes lit up. “I do need to talk
to a couple of friends of mine. This would be a joint effort.”

“That's okay. You know where to find me.”

Aryl had one last small but crucial detail to
inquire about.

“This would be a legal contract?” Aryl asked,
as he stood to leave.

“And binding,” Mr. Fuller added. “I would
draw up the papers indicating the terms. You are protected from me
changing my mind or demanding more than ten percent, and I am
protected from you changing your mind or not giving me ten
percent,” he explained.

“But technically, it would be a private
transaction?”

“Yes. Until the building is paid off and then
the deed would carry your name,” he explained. Aryl liked that
plan. They all still owed the bank money as their homes and
furnishings had not fully paid off their debts. If it were on
record that they had any kind of asset, the profit would most
likely be seized.

“When are you looking for someone to take
over?” Aryl asked.

“Honestly, as soon as possible,” Mr. Fuller
said. Aryl sighed and pulled out his notepaper, estimated the three
couples’ dwindled savings and calculated how long it would take to
save for repairs. He shook Mr. Fuller’s hand again and promised to
be in touch. It was snowing, and he hurried home.

He would keep the prospective arrangement to
himself, not wanting to raise false hopes if somehow it didn’t turn
out to be a feasible plan. He went over every detail in his head
and on paper to look for a roadblock of some kind.

He couldn’t find one, so he decided to bring
Caleb up to speed a few days later. He explained the opportunity as
they walked one evening. After every detail was hashed out, Aryl
showed him the figures, and Caleb offered to rerun the numbers and
to secure renters. He knew Shannon and Patrick would jump at the
chance to have a two-bedroom apartment in a slightly better part of
town for no more than they were being charged now. Caleb was
anxious to get home and tell Arianna.

“No,” Aryl said. “Let’s wait a little while.
Let’s tell them on Christmas. We’ll get Jon on board then. It’s
less than two weeks away. That will give us time to work out every
detail,” he suggested. Caleb agreed, although it would be hard to
keep the excitement to himself.

∞∞∞

That evening Aryl did, however, call the
couples together for a meeting at his house. Arianna and Caleb
arrived first. Caleb knew what the meeting was about, and his
excitement was obvious.

Jonathan and Ava arrived later, and
Jonathan’s reluctance to leave his apartment was obvious. His
bruising was significantly better, but his mind-set hadn’t
recovered.

“Okay,” Aryl started when everyone was
settled. “I wanted to talk to all of you about something. I have
come across a possible opportunity, and I really think this one
will work, although I'm still working out the details.” Claire’s
eyes lit up and Arianna looked at Caleb. He smiled, patted her leg,
and wished he could tell. It would help her so much to have
something solid to hold on to. He found restraint since this would
be the only thing he could give her for Christmas. All eyes were
back on Aryl.

“So, what is it?” Claire asked excitedly.

“Well, that’s the thing. I’m not ready to
give any details right now. I can tell you that it looks very
promising, and it’s very attainable if we work hard,” Aryl
explained.

“What is it this time, Aryl? Rice?” Jonathan
asked sarcastically as he looked up for the first time.

“No, it’s not rice, Jon. I can’t explain it
just yet, but I will soon. I promise. For right now, I need us to
save every single penny,” he said, looking at everyone
individually. “Christmas is coming, and we may be tempted to buy
something for each other, but we just can’t. And I’m not just
talking about presents either. We have to save, conserve, and
improvise with everything. When it’s time to do this, we will need
to put together every cent we have. Please trust me on this.”

Everyone agreed, but continued to pressure
Aryl into explaining his plan. He changed the subject to something
that he and Caleb deemed necessary and unavoidable, despite his
speech on saving money just a few minutes earlier.

“Now, my second bit of news, Caleb and I have
decided that we are all going to go see a show uptown tomorrow
night.”

“I thought you just said we needed to save
every penny!” Ava exclaimed.

“Well, yes, we do. However, we also haven’t
done anything fun in a long time. We thought it would be nice to
have a night out before we dive into unprecedented frugality. It’ll
boost morale,” he said, looking at Jonathan. “So, ladies, be
powdered and beautiful tomorrow night by the time we get home. We
need to catch the trolley at seven.”

Arianna was smiling and Claire was worried
about spending money, but excited to go to a show. Ava patted
Jonathan’s hand.

“Doesn’t that sound like fun, Jon?” she
asked.

“Sure. Sounds great.” His voice was monotone
as he looked over and faked a smile.

∞∞∞

The next afternoon, Ava, Claire, and Arianna
went back and forth between their apartments for approval while
trying to decide on outfits and hairstyles. Finally, they gathered
at Arianna’s, so they could take turns in front of the vanity’s
mirror.

“What do you think it is?” Ava asked. “Aryl’s
idea, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I tried getting it out of
Caleb for a few hours last night, but he wouldn’t budge. I think he
knows more than he wants me to believe he does,” Arianna said.

“Aryl won’t tell me either,” Claire added.
“But I haven’t seen him this excited about something since we got
here. I hope whatever it is really does work out.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with
leaving the city?” Ava asked hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Arianna said. “All I know is
I am going to thoroughly enjoy tonight because Caleb made it clear
that money will be spent only on necessary things after this. I
sure hope Aryl reveals his plan soon because life is going to be
downright miserable after tonight,” Arianna said with dread.

They waited anxiously for the men to get home
and hurried them along in getting ready. They dressed in clothing
that they had had no reason to wear since moving, and they looked
utterly elegant as they left the tenement and walked to the
trolley.

∞∞∞

They ordered coffee and crepes in a small
café uptown. Ava glanced at Jonathan repeatedly as he started to
show signs of life in the cozy café. He talked more than he had in
the two weeks since the attack and even laughed at some of Aryl’s
jokes.

When they left the café, Jonathan slipped an
arm around Ava and pulled her close to his side as they walked a
few blocks down Broadway. They had been to many stage shows and
motion picture premieres; they knew the area well.

Once tickets were bought, they walked into
the elegant, mahogany paneled lobby of the Capitol Theater and
stood before the marble staircase that led up to the mezzanine.
Just as Arianna started to take the first step, Caleb stopped and
gestured toward a man in a tuxedo at the other end of the
lobby.

“Is that the guy you needed to talk to?” he
asked Aryl.

“It is. Listen, you all go up and get
settled. I’ll catch up. I need to talk to someone,” Aryl said and
walked over to the manager of the theater. The others watched for a
moment as he spoke with the man, shook his hand, and began talking
animatedly.

“Maybe he’s investing in the theater,”
Arianna whispered to Claire excitedly. Claire gave her a hopeful
smile as they headed up the staircase to their seats.

Claire began to look around nervously when
the theater had filled nearly to capacity and Aryl still hadn’t
joined them. “Maybe you should go look for him,” Claire suggested
to Caleb.

“Nah. You know how Aryl gets. He’ll be
along,” he said.

The lights dimmed and just as the newsreel
began, Aryl appeared, tapped Caleb on the shoulder, and leaned down
to talk to him. “We need to go talk to this guy. This could be a
good opportunity,” Aryl whispered a little too loudly. Caleb leaned
over to whisper to Arianna that he would be back in a few minutes.
She pouted and whined. However, when he told her it was business,
she relented. Aryl apologized to Claire and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. This is
really important,” he pleaded.

“Fine. Hurry back or you’ll miss the whole
thing!” she said. Neither of them said anything to Jonathan who was
absorbed in the newsreel.

“Well, that worked out well,” Caleb commented
as they headed back down the marble staircase to the main
lobby.

“It did,” Aryl agreed. He introduced Caleb to
the manager. They talked of meaningless things before Aryl
commented that they were probably missed by their wives and had to
get back. Someone called the manager’s name from across the room
and he turned and waved, signaling he would be there momentarily.
When he turned around, Caleb and Aryl were gone.

∞∞∞

Victor pulled on his gloves and adjusted his
hat. His car sat parked alongside the road, and he tapped it twice
as he continued down the street. The driver remained in the parked
car near the entrance of the gentlemen’s club, so that anyone
wondering Victor’s whereabouts, mainly Ruth, would be cleverly
fooled. He paid his driver well for his silence and boredom.

Victor began walking the four blocks to his
waiting mistress. He never saw the man who grabbed him from behind.
With his hand over Victor’s mouth, he pulled him back into a dark
alley. Victor’s arms flailed wildly as he tried to get away. A
second man came from behind the dumpster. Victor couldn’t make out
the face that stood before him who wasted no time in delivering two
hard punches to his gut, ending Victor’s struggling.

“No,” the man behind Victor said. “Just the
face.”

∞∞∞

“Where have you been?” Claire complained.
“It’s half-over!”

“Sorry,” Aryl said, settling in his seat. “We
just got to talking, you know.” He turned his attention to the
show.

As they were leaving, they stopped to
introduce Jonathan and the wives to the manager, and Aryl promised
he would be in touch. The girls didn’t notice the manager’s
confused expression as they left the theater. They hurried home,
shivering as the temperature had dropped below freezing. They
talked about what a great evening it had been, and Caleb promised
they would do it again as soon as they had saved enough for Aryl’s
idea. Jonathan’s mood was lighter in the theater, but as they
passed the streetlamp where he was attacked, he returned to his
previous depressed state.

∞∞∞

Aryl woke early to a loud pounding. He
stumbled to the door and opened it to two policemen.

“Are you Aryl Sullivan?”

“Yes,” Aryl said, rubbing sleep out of his
eyes.

“Sir, there was an attack last night, and it
was implied by the victim that you might have been involved,” the
first officer said.

“I don’t see how I could have been since I
was at the Capitol Theater last night with my wife and friends,” he
said calmly.

“Do you have proof of that, sir?” the second
one asked suspiciously. “See, that isn’t far from where the attack
happened.”

“Sure,” Aryl said and turned to dig the
ticket stub out of his coat which hung on a nail by the door. He
handed it to an officer. “If this isn’t good enough, you can talk
to the manager of the theater. My friends and I spoke with him
about investing in the theater before and after the show,” Aryl
said with a yawn.

“This Mr. Smith will vouch that you were
there the whole time?”

“Of course. Go talk to him.”

“Investing, huh?” the first officer said,
glancing around the tenement with a mocking smile. “All right.
We’re going to go talk to the others implicated and see if their
stories match yours. If this Mr. Smith confirms you were there last
night, you won’t hear from us again.”

“Fair enough. Say, who was it? Who thought I
had something to do with this?”

“Victor Drayton.”

“From what I hear, he has plenty of enemies.
Good luck finding the guy,” Aryl laughed and the policeman nodded
knowingly.

“Yeah, but we gotta follow up first on
whoever the victim implicates as a suspect. Particularly with an
attack this vicious,” the officer explained. Aryl waved, closed the
door, and turned to see Claire standing by the sofa with crossed
arms and an angry face.