Rum for the Money

THIRTY - L E S T E R

MONDAY, MAY 18 1925

Lola answers the door herself.

"Lester," she says, quiet. She's dressed like she means to stay in all day and it's a bit sobering.

"Let me in, Lola," I say, "It's an emergency."

She opens the door all the way and shuts it behind me. It's a little surreal to be in this wall again, among the ink prints and the manicured walls.

"What's the emergency?"

"Your brother," I say.

Her eyes flicker. She sinks onto a sofa nestled between a grandfather clock and houseplant and suddenly the room looks far too large for her; she's small and tiny and not at all like the fiery thing dancing, dancing, at the speak.

"He's won," she says, "He's got his way."

"What do you mean?"

Lola presses her hands to her face. "I had it all figured out, Lester. I really did."

"You tell me what's going on," I say, "And then tell me where you've got Müller stashed. I know it was you. Trying to get that money back that you stole from the bank. Who told you the bills were marked?"

Lola stares at me. "I don't have Felix," she says, "Nellie's already been here."

"She came to me, too," I say, "And I saw your brother talking all nice-like to Tim Wells, like they were old pals."

Lola's face is near to crumpling. I can see it in the slight tremble of her chin.

"It's all gone wrong," she says, "I meant to set up the Juniper Gang, to make them look untrustworthy. I paid Carver to steal our own booze and when he double-crossed the two of them I couldn't have been more pleased—there was no way that Father would do business with them if they stole from us—but Carver, the bastard—ratted me out to Joey, and then he had to go and open his big mouth and tell Joey that he was swindled by someone from the old Baron's gang."

"Who?"

Lola laughs. "He used a fake name, of course. He bailed on them and everybody assumed him dead. One of the few to know that Baron's true identity. Everybody said he was filled with so much buckshot he sank right to the bottom of the river. That part of the story isn't really true—he just up and vanished."

"You're telling me that Felix Mülleris this character?"

"I sure am. He's been paying me to keep it hush hush ever since he got here. Does a few little things for me now and then." Lola squeezes her eyes shut. "I was never going to tell anyone. But Joey's got no honor, you know? No sense."

I slide my hand over hers. "He's doing what he thinks is best."

"For his own damn self." Lola stares up at me. "Nellie will never forgive me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't be thick, Lester. What do you think they'll do when they get the information they want out of Müller? They'll get rid of him. And if they don't, what do you think the Baron would do if he found out one of his old employees ratted him out?"

I was being stupid. Hadn't I just seen a body lying in the street a few days before? That's how business worked around here.

"You said he's the only one who knows who this Baron fellow is?"

"That's the rumor," Lola says, "And I don't know what to do."

I get up off the sofa. I know what I have to do.

"I need you to go there and stall," I say, "Understand? I've got this figured out."

"You're just one cop, Lester," Lola says, "Do you know how many Juniper boys are holed up in that joint? You'd be shot full of holes and dumped in the lake in a second."

"This is my job," I say, "And if Müller is as important as you say—maybe he'll talk to us. The law."

Lola stares at me—but only for a moment—that same way she looked at me in the speak a few days past. Intently, admiring.I feel I can do anything.

"I'll stall," she says, getting to her feet, "And you do what you need to do."

I don't waste any time. I go right to the ritzy hotel that Travers is staying in. I'm still buoyed by that one look that Lola's given me; it's made me more determined than ever.

I might be able to book Joey Collins for extortion in the process—it's too sweet to ignore.

I ask the manager to ring for Travers and take a seat but it's awfully difficult to stay still. I've always had a problem with that—staying still. Some lady in an ermine shawl turns up her nose at me. To her I look like I'm playing dress up, on account of my rumpled clothes.

"Howard," Travers says, and I'm gladdened that he looks surprised when he gets a load of my face, "What brings you here? And what on earth happened to you?"

"I'm onto something," I say, struck by inspiration, "I just saw Joey Collins in a meeting with Wells from the Juniper Gang. There's talk of some sort of merger between them." It feels wrong to be using Wall Street lingo to describe a bunch of no-good criminals, but there it is. Funnily enough lying doesn't seem to be much of a problem.

"Any idea why they're meeting?"

"They're resolving their differences," I say, "I overheard that much before Collins recognized me."

"Tim Wells was there?"

"Yes," I say. My insides twist.

"And how did you come to be anywhere near?"

We move over to the cluster of leather chairs. Travers eyes me keenly from behind his spectacles.

"Chance," I say, "I was looking into something else Collins might have his paws in—ransom."

"Ransom?" Travers is suddenly excited now. "Of who?"

"Some nobody," I say, "It's probably personal. To prove a point."

"I don't think so, son," Travers says, "We overheard something on the taps. Seems there's somebody in town who can identify the Baron."

Suddenly I feel like the last to know.

"The Baron's stolen from both gangs," Travers says, excitedly, "We get him—and the other two as well—and that'll be a blow to the entire operation. It's time to show them that our bite is worse than our bark."

"I thought I'd have to convince you," I say. I'm shocked by how easy this is, especially after he bawled me out for making a fool of myself across the border

"No convincing necessary," he says, "We'll need to get a team together at the station. I'll make a few calls to some people I know I can trust. Your station is crawling with paid cronies. We'll need to be careful. Anybody whose palms have been blessed with Juniper or Collins money and they'll get the hell out. Understand?"

I nod and nearly have to jog to keep up with him. I hope this is all the help that Nellie needs. The sun's sinking already in the sky.

"It's going to take a little bit of time to get everybody together," he says, "We need at least ten. Got it? All armed."

"Yes sir," I say. He asks the doorman to send around for his car.

"You ready for a real raid, Lester?"

His eyes, just beginning to go filmy from cataracts, remind me of chipped ice in a bucket. Sharp, and cold.

"You bet," I say.