Brooklyn on Fire (26 page)

When she entered the building, she was immediately struck by how small the office space was. It was one large room with a desk for the secretary up front and three larger desks in the rear, presumably for the executives. Only the secretary was there, which was part of Mary’s plan. She purposely arrived at lunchtime, thinking that the fewer people present, the less chance she would have of someone objecting to her request.

“May I help you?” said the secretary, a thin brunette about Mary’s age who sat with her back as straight as a ballet dancer’s. Mary couldn’t help thinking that she should have been her mother’s daughter.

“Yes, as a matter of fact—”

“Wait one minute. I know you.”

Mary played along. “Yes, you do look familiar.”

“Don’t tell me. I know.” And she thought for a full ten seconds until you could almost see her revelation. “You went to Girls High, didn’t you? That’s it! That’s where I know you.” Girls High School was the first public high school in Brooklyn. It had originally been designed for boys and girls, but there were too many students and, hence, it became a girls’ school.

“Yes, of course,” Mary replied. “You have a great memory.” Mary had never attended Girls High School. After eighth grade, she was sent out into the working world. Instead, she had attained her considerable knowledge from the encyclopedia her parents had bought for Sean, which he never used, and the volumes of secondhand books she routinely absorbed that her father would borrow from a bookstore owner he had befriended. In all likelihood, the secretary had seen her face in the newspapers, but Mary wasn’t going to correct her.

“Miss Crabtree’s shorthand class. That’s where we met. I’m certain.”

“Miss Crabtree. That woman was a real hoot.”

“Two hoots if you ask me, but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. Her class has come in very handy. Very handy indeed.”

“I’m glad you have such a good job.”

“Don’t worry, honey. You’ll get one someday.”

“Why thank you. That’s very heartening. You are a perfect sweetheart.”

“My husband tells me I’m too nice.”

“Don’t you listen to him. You keep being just the way you are.”

The secretary chuckled. “That’s what I told him. I said you conduct yourself the way you see fit, and I’ll behave the way I see fit.”

“Good for you. Now, I wonder if you can help me. I’ve lost touch with my aunt whom I understand was a stockholder here.”

“If she was, she isn’t anymore. The company was just bought.”

“Really? Well then, I hope you had stock. You could’ve made some good money.”

“Just a little, but a little was very nice.” She leaned over to whisper as if someone else were in the empty office to hear. “Three hundred dollars a share. I only paid twenty-five for it.”

“I’m very happy for you.”

“It almost fell through. A big stockholder didn’t want to sell.”

“Some people are so selfish.”

“You’re telling me. But it all worked out.”

“Good. Who bought your company?”

The secretary looked around, then whispered again. “The city of Brooklyn. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but why not? It’s going to be in the newspapers soon enough.”

That was interesting information, but Mary needed to know more if she was going to find a specific person. “Really? You wouldn’t happen to have a list of the old stockholders? Maybe it will have my aunt’s address.”

The secretary shrugged. “I don’t see the harm. After all, they’re no longer part owners.”

She went to a filing cabinet, removed a folder, and then gave it to Mary. She quickly perused the papers and soon came upon Gabrielle Evans’s name. She was by far the largest stockholder. If she had refused to sell at that inflated price, she would have made many enemies among the other stockholders and any relatives who were positioned to inherit her fortune.

As her eyes scanned the rest of the list, she saw several Brooklyn politicians who stood to make a nice amount of profit on the deal. Then the name of the second-largest stockholder in the company popped out at her. It caught her by surprise and she momentarily stopped breathing. She checked it a second and third time. By now, her head was reeling, but there was no mistake. It was right in front of her in black and white: Patrick Campbell.

The second-largest shareholder was Superintendent Campbell!

M
ARY KEPT TELLING
herself it wasn’t possible. Maybe it was a different Patrick Campbell. Superintendent Campbell had devoted his life to police work. He believed in the law. He wasn’t a murderer. Besides, he was her mentor and her good friend. He liked Sean. He would never do this to her and her family no matter how much money was involved. Then the ugly thoughts took over, and unfortunately, they fit together too well. Superintendent Campbell was bound to know Shorty. Billy did, and probably most of the police in Brooklyn. He also hated his new job and hadn’t been himself since he started it. He was getting fat and complacent. Maybe he’d made the conscious decision to cash in, and Sean was a complication he hadn’t expected. These were all theories and suppositions. Mary hoped that she could find some logic that would absolve him, but she kept returning to the fact that he was a large stockholder in the Long Island Water Supply Company. The second largest, in fact. That was too big to be a coincidence. And the more she reviewed the events, the more damning it was.

She had asked Superintendent Campbell to help her every step of the way, and he had always failed miserably. He couldn’t get the police to drop the charges against Sean. He couldn’t stop his transfer to the Raymond Street Jail, and he couldn’t protect him while he was there. He just plain couldn’t. But maybe he never intended to help and…it suddenly hit her. Dr. Lansing had said Superintendent Campbell had placed a guard at the infirmary to protect Sean. She had to get there as soon as she could, and it would take longer now. It had started to rain.

G
EORGE WAS WATCHING
Lester Hackel Jr.’s office from across the street. He stood a few buildings down, where he had sought shelter under a tree. It had started raining hard, with lightning and thunder, and he cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. The danger of standing next to a tree during a lightning storm was obvious, but he ignored it in favor of staying dry. Earlier, when it wasn’t raining, he had let his driver wander off with the carriage to the closest saloon, which was a few blocks away. Since George had already been there for several hours, he figured his driver was feeling no pain by now.

George was contemplating going for a cup of tea or anywhere that he could attain proper shelter when he finally saw some activity across the street. A tall, comely Nordic woman, Scandinavian or German in origin, approached the law office carrying a big box. Having no hands free, she kicked the door a couple of times and Lester Hackel Jr. opened it, beckoning her inside. Not long after that he saw a man pull up in a carriage and get out. He was wearing a trench coat, another item George regretted leaving at home, and quickly opened an umbrella before George could see his face. In true cloak-and-dagger fashion, George stayed low as he stealthily made his way across the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. He planted himself behind a milk wagon and carefully moved around it to get a better view.

The man knocked on the door and waited impatiently for Lester Hackel Jr. to answer. He was fidgety. He pulled out his pocket watch and started to turn to the left in order to read the watch in a better light. This was it. The man was about to show his face, and though George was tense, he was excited and ready. It felt odd that even without Mary, he was enjoying himself.
I’m beginning to really like this sleuthing business,
he thought.

That’s when he was struck on the side of his head with what felt like a sledgehammer. It wasn’t. It was Shorty’s fist.

T
HE RAIN MADE
the journey to the Raymond Street Jail seem longer and far more miserable. Once she arrived, it took a while but Mary talked her way in to see Sean after invoking Warden Wilson’s name no less than a dozen times. The guards finally checked with him, and she was given clear passage.

When Mary entered the infirmary, out of breath from rushing to get there, she saw a guard bent over Sean’s bed. She prayed she was in time.

“Stand away from my brother’s bed! Stand away now!”

The guard slowly straightened and raised his hands, then turned around.

“Billy! What in blazes are you doing here?”

As Billy put his hands down he said, “I’m the one who should be askin’ that question, lass. The way you were screamin’ I thought you had a shotgun in your hands.”

“I didn’t know it was you, and it was scary the way you were hunched over Sean.”

“Well, chess
is
a scary game.” He stepped away, revealing Sean lying in the bed, his head propped up with pillows, with a chessboard and pieces next to him on the bed.

“Relax, sis,” Sean said. “Billy’s just trying to teach me a few moves so that I can give you tougher competition.”

After what had seemed like an eternity, Mary exhaled, smiling as she walked toward them. “You should have started years ago. I’m already eons ahead of you.”

“That’s our plan. Make you feel cocky and then blindside you.”

“How’s the leg?”

“It hurts. I don’t know how useful it’ll be, but the doc said it’ll take time to find that out.” Sean didn’t want to talk about his leg. He pointed to Billy. “How do you like my poor excuse for a bodyguard?”

“You’re guarding him, Billy?”

“I asked Chief McKellar if I could watch the lad until he got on his feet.”

“And Chief McKellar approved it?”

“Ya still don’t understand us, do ya, lass?” Billy turned toward Sean. “He may be a filthy, low-down murderer, but he’s our murderer and we look after our own.”

“Thanks, Billy,” Sean responded sarcastically. “You make me feel really special.”

“The guard at the station certainly didn’t share your sentiments,” Mary remarked.

“He’s a bit dim-witted,” replied Billy, “but most guards are. That’s why I told the one that was here to scram, and I took over.”

“You’re wonderful, Billy. Thank you.”

Mary hugged him, and Billy raised his hands in the air again.

“Careful, girl, or you’ll anger the missus, and she’s handier with a firearm than I am.”

Mary told them she was just there to check on Sean and had to go. She didn’t mention the Long Island Water Supply Company and what she had discovered about Superintendent Campbell. She was still formulating what she was going to do. If she let others know, it might get back to him, and he could have time to prepare an excuse or, worse, take action.

When Mary left the Raymond Street Jail, she still hadn’t decided where she was going. Should she go directly to Superintendent Campbell’s office and confront him, or relieve George and discuss the situation with him? That question was soon answered, because as she stepped out into the pouring rain, Superintendent Campbell’s carriage was parked in front.

“Mary, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“And I can answer it. I was in a meeting when I was interrupted with a telephone call from Warden Wilson informing me you were demanding entry.”

“And you allowed it? I’m surprised.” Mary regretted those words the second they came out of her mouth. She knew Superintendent Campbell wouldn’t let them go unchallenged and she wasn’t ready to reveal her suspicions yet. She started walking, hoping she could avoid the inevitable. At best, it was wishful thinking.

“Come back here, Mary.”

She kept walking. “I hate to disappoint you, but I have a brother in this jail whose innocence I still have to prove.”

Superintendent Campbell told his driver to follow Mary, and the carriage started moving. “Get in the carriage. I’ll take you where you need to go.”

Mary stiffened. “No, thank you. I can find it on my own.”

“Mary Handley, get in this carriage now, and explain to me why you’re acting so incredibly bizarre. Now, Mary!”

She stopped. Mary was soaking wet, still mourning Patti’s death, devastated over Sean’s arrest, and heartbroken over Superintendent Campbell’s betrayal. She wouldn’t have chosen this time as the moment to confront Campbell, but it was as good as any. She got in the carriage.

Superintendent Campbell offered her a towel. “I keep this in my carriage for emergencies. Dry yourself.”

She shook her head. “It’s not necessary.”

“It’s not a choice. You’re dripping all over my carriage. Now dry yourself.”

Mary took the towel and started wiping her face and hands, then proceeded to her hair. She didn’t want to admit it, but it felt good.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Why do you want to know?”

“So I can tell my driver. Do you want him to guess?”

Mary told Superintendent Campbell Lester Hackel Jr.’s address. She figured that was the most logical place to go. Maybe George had found something out, and besides, she desperately needed his support at that moment. When Superintendent Campbell gave the address to the driver, she asked, “Do you know who Lester Hackel Jr. is?”

“He’s handling Gabrielle Evans’s estate.” Mary looked surprised, and he continued. “Don’t you think I follow the crimes being committed in my city?”

“Then you must know about the Long Island Water Supply Company.”

“I’ve heard of it. Why?”

She had to let him know. She informed him of everything she had found out as Superintendent Campbell listened intently. By the time she finished, her voice and temperament had risen to a very intense level.

“Imagine my disappointment, my anger, my complete outrage to discover the man I admired
, my mentor, my friend,
was not only involved in murder for profit but committed crimes
against my family
. How could you have become so completely depraved?! Have you no shame?!”

Superintendent Campbell didn’t so much as flinch at the news. He slowly sat back and scratched under his chin, a habit he had while thinking, and calmly responded.

“I’m proud of you, Mary. You’ve done some very fine detective work.”

“Thank you. I had a good teacher,” she said pointedly.

“What’s your next step? Are you going to arrest me?”

“You know I can’t do that. I have to inform the proper authorities.” Suddenly, Mary’s emotions took over. Her outrage exploded out of her body. “Damn it, Chief! I don’t understand any of this. I thought you cared about us. Why the hell did you do it?”