Brooklyn on Fire (27 page)

Superintendent Campbell remained calm. “I said you’ve done some fine detective work. I didn’t say it was correct.”

“Prove me wrong, Chief. I’d love you to prove me wrong.”

“First of all, I don’t and never have owned stock in the Long Island Water Supply Company.”

“Then how come your name is on the list?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I have some suspicions. I do know this. I have been an honest policeman my whole career, and there is no possible way I could have made enough money to buy that amount of stock, even at twenty-five dollars a share.”

“And I should just take your word for it.”

“No, but there are other facts to consider. Do you know who just bought the Long Island Water Supply Company?”

“Yes, the city of Brooklyn.”

“Mayor Chapin orchestrated the sale.”

“So?”

“He doesn’t need to steal. He has family money. But he does want to be governor, and he needs Hugh McLaughlin for that.”

“That still doesn’t explain—”

“Hold your horses, Mary. I’m getting to it. I’ve been trying to bring down McLaughlin and his damn Brooklyn Ring for years now, and he knows it.”

“So he buys stock using your name, he has Chapin buy the company for an outrageous profit, and in case anyone investigates, you’re the one who will look crooked.”

“By the time I proved I never bought the stock and didn’t have the money, I would have been forced to resign and been out of his hair.”

“But in all probability no one investigates, and the money is his. I only stumbled upon it because of Sean being framed.” She paused, nodding. It all made sense. “I’m sorry, Chief.”

“I’d have thought the same thing if it were you. Except, you’d be locked up by now.”

Mary smiled as Superintendent Campbell called to his driver and changed their destination to Hugh McLaughlin’s office. Her reunion with George would have to wait. She was happy that she might be wrong but would reserve final judgment until they spoke with McLaughlin. The way things were going, anything was possible. She had to watch Superintendent Campbell carefully. She hadn’t crossed him off her list yet, and she had no doubt that he knew it.

I
T WAS LATE
afternoon and Hugh McLaughlin had just decided where to build the swimming pool at his North Shore house when a drop of water splashed onto the architect’s plans that were spread out on the desk in his office. He looked up at the origin of the leak, a wet spot on the ceiling.
Damn it! Not again!
He ripped the plans off the desk, then folded them and shoved them into a drawer. He grabbed the wastepaper basket to the right of his chair and placed it on the desk under the drip. He then went to his door, swung it open, and roared to his secretary.

“Helen, tell Liam ta get that moron roofer he hired back in here and—” He stopped when he saw the two people standing next to Helen’s desk.

“I’ll inform Liam about the roofer, Mr. McLaughlin, and I was just going to inquire about your availability.” She gestured toward their visitors. “Superintendent Campbell and Miss Handley would like to speak with you.”

Helen answered the ringing phone as McLaughlin instantly turned on his charm, an ability he had no matter how annoyed he might have been. He went over and shook their hands.

“Why, Patrick, it’s good to see ya. You should stop by more often. And, Mary, a beautiful Irish lass is always welcome. Please, come in.”

He waved for them to follow him into his office. He closed the door and pointed to the wastepaper basket sitting on his desk.

“The
Brooklyn Daily Eagle
calls me a kingmaker, and I can’t even get a leak fixed.”

Mary responded with pointed words. “The
Brooklyn Daily Eagle
gets many things wrong. They call my brother a murderer, and now I have proof that he’s not.”

If McLaughlin was concerned, he didn’t show it. “Well, that must be a great relief for ya and yer family.” He gestured. “Please sit down, both of ya. Make yerselves comfortable.”

They both did, Superintendent Campbell on a couch and Mary on a chair facing McLaughlin, who sat at his desk.

“So, what can I do for ya?”

Superintendent Campbell started. “I wonder if you can tell us something about the Long Island Water Supply Company.”

“Ah yes, the water supply. I can tell ya buying it was a masterstroke by Mayor Chapin. Those damn New Yorkers—excuse my language, Mary—”

“It’s okay. I’ve heard and spoken much worse.”

“All right. Those damn New Yorkers wanted to take over Brooklyn and ruin our fine way of livin’. They could have, too. We needed water, but the good mayor’s takin’ care of that.”

“You left out the part where I become a major stockholder in the company, having never invested a nickel.”

“You caught that, Patrick. Good for you. Well, no gall, no glory.”

Mary was surprised to see Superintendent Campbell, who usually stayed cool in any number of tense situations, lose his temper and pound his fist on McLaughlin’s desk. “No gall, no glory! That’s your excuse for framing me for stock manipulation?”

McLaughlin looked at Superintendent Campbell’s fist, which was still on his desk, and responded, completely unruffled, “I apologize if I caused ya any consternation. I changed my name on that list ’cause that company was gonna save Brooklyn. People are suspicious, and I didn’t want a whole hullabaloo croppin’ up over my good investment, holdin’ up the progress of our great city. If it makes ya feel any better, Patrick, I’ve written a letter to the water company explainin’ the mistake and askin’ ’em to change the name back.”

“And I should just believe you?”

“Ya want proof? The letter’s sitting on Liam’s desk for him to personally take over to ’em when he gets in tomorrow. Helen!”

“Don’t bother her, Mr. McLaughlin,” said Mary. “The poor woman is swamped with work. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thank ya, lass. It’s right across the hall. Yer such a lovely, considerate girl. Yer parents must be very proud.”

Mary wanted to tell him where he could stick his Irish malarkey, but that would cause a row that would defeat their purpose for being there. Instead, she went across the hall to Liam Riley’s office. It was tiny with just enough room for a small desk and one thin filing cabinet. McLaughlin wasn’t lying. She saw the letter addressed to the Long Island Water Supply Company sitting on Liam’s desk. She picked it up and was on her way back when a framed letter on the wall caught her attention. It was from Abraham Lincoln.

When Mary returned to McLaughlin’s office, he was laughing.

“I committed murder? Not just one but three? Ya have got to be jokin’, Patrick!”

“I couldn’t be more serious.”

Mary interrupted. “I found the letter. Here it is, Mr. McLaughlin.” And she handed it to him.

He held up the letter. “See, Patrick? I wasn’t lyin’. I don’t have to.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” said Mary. “We should be going, Superintendent Campbell.” He looked at Mary as if she were from another planet, and she continued. “Mr. McLaughlin has answered our questions satisfactorily, and I just realized it’s my mother’s birthday today. Her celebration will start any minute now.”

Superintendent Campbell didn’t move or say anything. He just stared at Mary, trying to figure out what was going on. She looked at him, her eyes telling him to hurry up.

“Please, Superintendent Campbell. I’m already late.”

“What a thoughtful daughter,” oozed McLaughlin. “Yer a rare breed, Mary Handley. There aren’t many of ya left.”

“Thank you, sir. Superintendent?”

Superintendent Campbell was still dumbfounded, but he rose, they all said their good-byes, and he and Mary left. When they were outside the office in the elevator, he turned to Mary.

“Okay, what was that all about?”

“McLaughlin didn’t do it. Commit the murders, that is.”

“That’s an interesting conclusion. I suppose there’s some reasoning that comes behind it. At least, I pray there is.”

“McLaughlin wouldn’t kill for profit and take the chance of it getting messy, like this one has. He’s too powerful. Why risk it when he can just move on to another scheme?”

“That’s it? You pulled me out of there because of your analysis of his personality!” Superintendent Campbell was about to explode when Mary spoke.

“That, and I know who hired Shorty. It was Liam Riley.”

“S
HE LEFT IT
all to the cats?!” screamed Liam Riley. “Fuck, no, that can’t be right!”

Gabrielle Evans’s cats, Vicky and Albert, had been carried to Lester Hackel Jr.’s office in a box by the tall, comely Nordic woman, Miss Amundsen, who had been asked to be their new caretaker. They were busy investigating the room, and upon Liam’s outburst, they turned toward him. Vicky jumped up onto the desk to get a better look.

Lester Hackel Jr. was mortified by Liam’s behavior. “Mr. Riley, there’s no need—”

“That was my uncle’s money! He promised my mother. She can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid she can. He left it all to your aunt, and she had the right to do with it whatever she wished.”

“She talked to these damn cats and made up voices for ’em. She was completely daft, mad as a hatter!”

“I’m sorry, but if your uncle had wanted to protect you, he should have had a proviso written.” Then Lester Hackel Jr. wiped his nose with his handkerchief. He was allergic to cats and couldn’t wait until this piece of business was over and the cats were gone.

“I’m the only living relative, and I get nothing?”

“You do or you wouldn’t be here. Mrs. Evans wanted you to have her King James Bible.” At the moment, Vicky was perched on top of the Bible. As he struggled to get her off of it, sniffling all the time, he continued. “It’s a nice memento, Mr. Riley, a very fine—”

“What happens to everything after the cats are gone?”

“Ah, yes, interesting.” He turned and read from the paper in front of him, “ ‘When my dear Vicky and Albert pass, and I hope that never happens and they live forever—’ ”

“Just get to it, please.”

“All the assets left in my estate will be liquidated and used to create a home for the care of stray animals. It’s to be called Vicky and Albert’s Place.”

“This can’t stand! I’m telling you, that woman was a lunatic!”

“That’s one man’s opinion, and you can contest it if you wish, Mr. Riley. But my father prepared this trust and when a Hackel prepares a document, it is ironclad. Ironclad, I assure you. Now, if you don’t mind, as you can see, I am allergic to cats and there are specific instructions I have to give Miss Amundsen about the care of Vicky and Albert before they can leave and I can stop sneezing.” As if on cue, he sneezed.

Still livid, Liam put on his trench coat, grabbed his umbrella, and headed for the door.

“Mr. Riley, aren’t you forgetting something?” Lester Hackel Jr. held up the Bible.

“Give it to the cats. Maybe one of them’ll become a priest.”

With that, Liam marched out into the rain.

T
HE NOISE FROM
the dripping water was unnerving. The constant plop distracted McLaughlin, preventing him from discerning why Mary Handley’s behavior had changed so radically.

“Helen,” he screamed, “did ya get that roofer yet?”

“Liam hasn’t checked in, sir.”

Annoyed and antsy, McLaughlin decided to find the roofer by himself. He charged into Liam’s office and started rifling through his desk. After searching through several drawers, he found the roofer’s address.

On his way out, he glanced at the letter from Abraham Lincoln that was hanging on the wall. It had been there for a long time and he had never paid much attention to it. But now certain words stood out as if they were magnified. It explained why Mary Handley had been so anxious to leave, and now he also knew exactly what he had to do.

G
EORGE WOKE UP
in an alley not far from Lester Hackel Jr.’s office with the rain pouring down on him. It was now dark outside, he was soaking wet through and through, and his head was throbbing. His first instinct was to go to the office to see if he could peek inside and determine who had entered, but after a few steps, he thought better of it. He was woozy and stumbling, and then he touched his head. He was bleeding. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere, and so he sat down in the street about ten yards from Lester Hackel Jr.’s door. He thought of his plight: a Vanderbilt found lying in the street bleeding. His brother Cornelius would be mortified. Just thinking of Cornelius coping with the family scandal put a smile on his face.

George had to decide what his next move would be. His driver was in a saloon blocks away, and he was sure he couldn’t make it that far. If he were in Manhattan, he’d know where the nearest doctor’s office or hospital was. But he was in Brooklyn, and Brooklyn was a strange land to him. He felt completely lost, but he knew he had to get up and keep moving. It was either that or stay put and catch pneumonia. He’d try to get up soon. He just needed a minute to gather his strength.

“
W
HAT DID THE
letter say?” asked Superintendent Campbell as he and Mary sat in his carriage.

“It was addressed to Major Thomas Evans, to whom President Lincoln had just presented the Medal of Honor at the White House. Besides once again thanking him for his bravery and service to the country, the president mentioned what a pleasure it was to meet his wife, Gabrielle, and his son, Paul. He then went on to write that his son Tad hadn’t enjoyed himself so much since Tad’s brother William had passed away. He asked Major Evans to commend his nephew Liam for playing so well with Tad.”

“So Liam Riley is Gabrielle Evans’s nephew.”

“And probably in line to inherit her estate, which would be significantly reduced if she refused the Long Island Water Supply Company buyout. It all fits. He’s McLaughlin’s right-hand man and has probably been making telephone calls in his name all along.”

“Good work, Mary. How I wish I could hire you.” Superintendent Campbell pulled a folded paper out of his jacket pocket, opened it, then called out the window to his driver and gave him an address.

Mary looked at him strangely. “What is that?”

“Liam Riley’s address. McLaughlin said he wouldn’t be in the office until tomorrow.”

“I figured as much, but—”

“Oh, this,” Superintendent Campbell said, holding up the paper. “I always research and write down all pertinent information about people involved in a case, so I can have it at my fingertips at a time like this. You should try it, Mary. It comes in very handy.”

“I’m sure it does,” said Mary as the carriage took off and started gaining speed.