The good news? Things are starting to fall into place. The bad news is where it’s leading Johnny.
I walked in through the back door of the Angie’s Bar and Grill and made a detour to talk to Angie. She was as usual, cleaning glasses and wiping down the bar. I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen Angie without a rag, cleaning something or other. She stopped to look up from her reflection on the polished oak bar.
“Hey Johnny,” she made a couple of circles with her rag, “What’s up?”
I pulled out a stool and sat down, put my elbows on the just polished wood.
“Too early for a beer, Angie?”
Angie looked around at the couple of old guys at the far end of the bar.
“Well, they been here since 10am. So, I think it might be okay.”
While she drew me the beer, I asked, “Hey Angie, you know Danny Alonzo?”
She placed the beer in front of me.
“What? That a trick question? Everybody around here knows Danny.”
“I mean did you ever have a conversation with him, or do you know him just by his reputation?”
She stopped her polishing mid circle.
“Honey, you might think I was born behind this bar, but I have been known to consort with humans now and then.”
“Did you ever consort with Danny?”
Now she stood up straight and gave me a smile—a rare thing from Angie.
“I did, sir.”
I admit I was surprised at her remark. I just didn’t see Angie as someone who “consorted” much, if any.
“I’ve known Danny for quite a while actually. I think he used to work with your old man.”
“Yeah. In fact, I just came from his place.”
There was a moment of silence between us, then Angie put her elbows on the bar right in front of mine.
“So, as I started this brilliant conversation, What’s up, Johnny?”
“I’m looking into Vinnie’s murder. Pop told me that Danny’s got a group fighting the union again.”
“Do you really want to get involved in this, Johnny? These guys are tough.”
I looked at Angie. “Vinnie was my pal, since we were kids. I’m not going to let this go. I heard Danny and his followers are meeting at the St. George Hotel, but I don’t know when,” I said.
Angie said, “I think you’re out of your depth, even if you are a war hero.”
“Maybe so. At least I knew who the enemy was when I was in the trenches,” I answered, “I’m kinda in the dark about a lot of this. Except for the fact that everyone wants me to keep out of it.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said, “But if won’t stop, I heard the meeting was tomorrow at 10pm in the Gold room.”
I knew that Angie had her ear to the ground and even when she wasn’t listening her customers loved to talk. But I was surprised at these revelations.
I got up, went into my pocket to pay for the beer. She held her hands out palms up.
“This one’s on me. It may be your last.”
“No worries, Angie. Like I told my old man, I’m pretty good at this.”
Angie smiled. “I wouldn’t have told you anything if I didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself,” she said. Then she went back to wiping the already pristine bar. “But you watch your ass, I’ll never find another sucker to rent that upstairs office again,” she said.
“You’re a treasure Angie,” I said.
She looked up. “Don’t you go spreading ugly rumors about me now. And by the way, you and your not so ex Toni, promised to make sure that Annabel stays on the college track. I know she wants to be just like Johnny Stone master detective.”
“She’s a kid, it’s only a phase. I’ve already told her ‘No go,’ as far as sleuthing is concerned.”
“Johnny, I hear you, but you’re missing something very important for some reason.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“Annabel is no kid anymore. She’s grown up. I guess you haven’t noticed because, you’re, well, family sort of. But the boys around the bar sure notice. She might be grown up on the outside but on the inside, not so much.” She gave me a half smile, “I might have babied her a little,” then almost to herself, “but I was just trying to protect her.”
“No worries, Toni’s been on the job as well and if she thinks I’m cool, she practically idolizes her.”
I left Angie as she went back to wiping the already glistening counter, while I climbed the stairs to my office.
I sat down at my desk, pulled out my rolodex and looked up Freddie Jackson over at The New York Sun. The Sun used to be one of the best read papers in the city, but had fallen on hard times. To make a baseball analogy, they were in last place, aka the basement. I knew Freddie from my days before the war, when the Sun was at least in second or third place in the standings. I heard he was poking around the waterfront lately. Too many bodies floating in the river, I guess. He picked up right away.
“Jackson,” he barked into the mouthpiece.
“Freddie, it’s Johnny Stone.”
His voice relaxed. “Hey Johnny. It’s been a while. What can I do for you?”
I’d seen Freddie at Vinnie’s wake, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him.
“I’m looking into Vinnie’s murder, Freddie.”
He gave a very audible sigh. “Johnny, I know you guys were good friends, but I’m not sure that digging into this is a real good idea.”
“I heard you’re doing some digging yourself,” I said.
“That’s different Johnny, it’s my job.”
“This is my job,” I said.
“Who’s paying you, Johnny. Who’s your client?” Freddie always cut right to the chase.
“I hear you, Freddie, but this is personal.”
“That’s what makes me nervous, Johnny,” he said. “It never works when it gets personal.”
“Freddie, you wouldn’t be one of the top reporters in the city if you didn’t get personal.”
I could hear him relent. “Okay, Okay. So, we’re knights in shining armor, the both of us. As I said, what can I do for you?”
“Tell me what you know about Danny Alonzo.”
Freddie chuckled, or laughed outright, or maybe he just choked.
“You got eight hours? That may take us into May of next year.”
“I know he’s meeting with other union members at the St. George hotel tomorrow,” I said. “What do you know about that?”
For a good twenty seconds there was silence on the phone. I wondered if he’d hung up. In a softer voice he said, “Where are you, Johnny?”
“In my office.”
“Get here in the next half hour.”
This time I hung up the phone, grabbed my hat and shut the door behind me.
I took the subway at Court Street and spent the next twenty minutes going over everything that I’d learned in the last week. It wasn’t much. Everyone knew the Mob ran the waterfront and despite ‘ILA president for life,’ Joe Ryan’s swearing that the waterfront was “Clean,” to the press, the Mayor and anyone else who would listen, few, very few, took him at his word. What I couldn’t figure out was why they hit Vinnie’s place, even if he was moonlighting for Danny’s growing rebellion. Vinnie was a sweet guy, did an okay business, but was a really small fish in a very big pond. If they wanted to send a message, why not go after someone close to Alonzo? Danny liked the spotlight and that light spread a circle around his closest aids. I hoped Freddie would have some answers.
I got out of the subway at Chambers Street and walked across the street to The Sun building at 280 Broadway. I glanced up at the big ornate clock with The Sun’s Emblem sitting like a crown on top of the four-sided sculpture that told, among other things, the time and the temperature. The clock was running slow today, maybe it’ll catch up tomorrow I thought to myself. I was practicing some optimism.
I walked into the dusty, noisy, paint peeling off the walls, newsroom. The large room hadn’t had a makeover since the building was built back in 1846.
While I spend long hours in my office doing nothing—waiting for the phone to ring, trying to figure out whether the Dodgers are going to break my heart again, or deciding if I want to put up a dart board – The Sun’s newsroom was like fifty unfit men on amphetamines; typing, swearing or pleading with someone on the phone, yelling out for the copyboy. As I passed by the row of reporters banging out the late edition, I got plenty of salutes, some with smiles, some with sarcasm. I was a local hero when I was fighting in the Pacific, but my new role as a private dick didn’t make me the most popular guy in the place. I had gotten a few calls asking for some dirt on a client and I always disappointed them.
Freddie came out of his small office.
“Come on in,” he said. I did and he closed the door behind him.
Freddie was tall around 6’4” and skinny as a rail. His hair was fire engine red and always looked like it was cut with garden shears. Freddie had gotten out of the infantry by working for the OWI, the Office of War Information. But in spite of his gangly appearance, he was one of the toughest street fighters I knew. Before the war, we’d been in a couple of scrapes in some neighborhoods we had no right to be in, and I’d seen him in action.
Freddie leaned back in his chair, reached into his desk drawer and threw me a pack of Lucky Strikes. I took one and tossed it back. He pulled one out, took out the gold lighter his father left as a going away gift when Freddie was ten years old; his father then hit the road, never to be heard from again. I lit mine with a match I pulled from my front pocket.
“Okay,” I said, “What can you tell me about Alonzo and this meeting? Does it connect in any way with Vinnie’s murder? Do you know who did the hit?”
Freddie put up both hands, “Whoa, Johnny. Slow down.”
I just stared at him. After what seemed like a full minute, Freddie spoke.
“I honestly don’t know who killed Vinnie,” he said, “although I suspect it was muscle from out of town.”
I waited, he continued.
“What I do know is that Danny Alonzo is making a lot of people, the wrong people, very upset. I haven’t put a finger on it yet, Johnny, but there’s some kind of power struggle going on within the mob and Ryan’s boys. With Dunn in Sing Sing, looking at the electric chair, there’s talk that he’s willing to rat on the whole pack of wolves to stay alive.” Freddie turned in his chair, this time looking out one of the building’s dirty windows. He turned back to face me.
“Ryan’s having a testimonial dinner thrown for him next week. I wouldn’t be surprised to see some of the mob’s boys will be there.”
“And the Mayor?” I asked.
Freddie lit another cigarette, leaned back and blew a smoke ring that put mine to shame.
“O’Dwyer will be there,” he said with a smirk.
I gave him one of my famous raised eyebrows—I had two.
“There’s been some whisperings about our civic minded Mayor.” He paused. “If some of the stories are true, he’s got his hands in some not-so-clean rackets—and they include the waterfront and the cops.”
“Yikes!” I said.
“Yikes is right,” answered Freddie, “the whisperings are just that, nothing near proving. But let’s just say there’s a lot of people who would rather not have their boats rocked right now.”
“Including Lansky, Anatasia and that crowd?” I asked.
Freddie shot me with his index finger, “Bingo.” He blew the imaginary smoke from the top of his finger.
“So, what can we do?”
Freddie got serious. “First, this has to be the last time we meet in the office. I am investigating the Waterfront, and I am getting somewhere, but I don’t need it known that I’m hanging out with you.”
I shrugged.
“Don’t take it personally, we can work some of this together, but I want to keep this as quiet as I can before I start printing stories.”
“Worried?”
“Damn right I am.”
Freddie rose from his chair. So did I. He led me to his door.
“Let’s meet on the corner of Henry and Clark Street, opposite the hotel before the meeting,” Freddie said as he opened the door. “We’ll see how close we can get to the action,” we shook hands, “Meanwhile, Johnny, don’t go busting down any doors.”
I left the building with more questions than I had when I came in. Freddie did bring me up to speed about the mob’s musical chairs, but it didn’t help me connect why they picked on Vinnie. But somehow, I felt that I was moving in the right direction, just don’t ask me why.
