ROCCO CLIMBED THE STAIRS of the limestone-faced Monarch & Block building in the Gore Park area. The edifice was very old and well-maintained, but the stairs squeaked and the hallway at the top of the stairs was dimly lit. Four doors down, Rocco found the office of Isaac Bain, Member of Provincial Parliament for Hamilton East. Stepping inside, he found a small reception area with an older woman sitting behind a small desk. She wore thick, black glasses and an 1890s Victorian hairstyle.
She looked up without smiling, "Yes sir, how may I help you?"
"My name is Smith and I'd like to see Isaac Bain."
The woman looked indignant, "Mr. Bain is a very important individual in the community. I'm afraid you'll have to make an appointment, like everyone else."
Rocco casually reached into his dungarees pockets, pulled out cash and peeled off a bill, setting it on the desk. Then he peeled off another one, then another and another, setting them on top of the others.
The woman's eyes registered surprise.
Rocco peeled off another bill, slowly setting it on the stack of bills, "I'm sure you could find a very brief opening in his schedule...."
The woman looked a little uncertain as she eyed the cash, "Mr. Smith. I could–"
"Right now?" Rocco set the rest of the bills on top of the others on the desk and looked at the woman.
She quickly reached out, grabbed the bills in her fist and stuffed them down her blouse. Rising from her chair she stepped over to the door, "Follow me, Mr....?" She looked back at Rocco, her hand on the door knob.
"Smith."
"Of course, Mr. Smith." She knocked and led Rocco into the room. "Mr. Smith is here to see you, Mr. Bain." With that said, she retreated quickly, closing the door behind her.
Rocco found himself in a room with a few expensive looking pieces of furniture, walnut-stained wood-paneling, a few old paintings, a wall filled with books and a large desk straight ahead. The room smelled of a burley-based pipe tobacco.
And behind the desk was a startled looking Bain. The politician rose slowly, a puzzled look on his face, "I'm sorry, I don't recall an appointment, Mr. Smith–"
"I didn't have one. And the name is really Rocco DeLuca." He caught the hint of surprise in Bain's eyes but the man tried to cover it.
Bain shook his head slowly, "I'm afraid I don't...."
Rocco gave the man a sardonic smile, "I was sure you'd recognize the name since you've been out at my place." He unzipped his leather jacket, pulled out a photograph and laid it on the desk in front of Bain. Then he sat casually in one of the chairs on his side of the desk, watching the man's reaction.
Bain was still standing, now bent over, an expression of utter shock on his face. He was looking down at a photograph of himself, naked and kneeling between the open legs of the beautiful young woman at the Paradise Club.
"I don't think that's your wife is it?"
Bain sat down with a thud.
"But you do seem to be enjoying yourself."
Bain found it difficult to swallow. He reached out with a shaking hand and placed his hand on the photograph, pulling it across the desk and closer to himself. His voice was weak, "What...what do you want?"
"Information."
The stricken MPP raised his eyes to look across at Rocco, "What kind of information?"
"I understand you have a new bodyguard or driver...or whatever job you claim he has. Tell me about him?"
Bain licked his lips again as he leaned back in his chair, "Why do you want to know about him? He's...no one...."
Rocco cocked his head as he looked across at the man, "Why do I have the feeling you're trying to avoid answering truthfully?"
The man's jowls rippled as he shook his head, "I'm not. I'm just wondering–"
Rocco pointed his finger at the photograph, "You can keep that." Then he stood up and zipped up his jacket, "I have a few more, anyway. They'll look good on your mantle at home. I'm sure that's where your wife will put them. Then again, they would look good next to a newspaper article–"
"Alright, alright, alright," said Bain, nearly going into a panic, shooting forward in his chair, holding his hands out in a pleading manner.
Rocco casually sat down and looked across at the man again, waiting.
Bain sat back heavily in his chair again, his eyes closed. It took a few moments for him to speak, "The man's name is Lee Cressey. He's...a detective with the Pinkerton Detective agency." He opened his eyes and looked across at Rocco, "I was forced to take him with me to the Paradise Club–"
"By who?"
Bain hesitated for a moment, "By Chief Constable Denton Wherley of the Hamilton Constabulary."
Rocco's eyes narrowed as he gave the information some thought. "Why would he do that? Is he a prohibitionist?"
Isaac Bain only shrugged, "I'm...not sure...he never really said why–"
"Keep the pictures in mind," Rocco said harshly.
"I'm telling you the truth. Police forces in the province frequently bring in private investigators from the Pinkerton's Detective Agency to handle certain cases. I wasn't told anything about what the man was doing. All I had to do was take him with me to the Paradise club–"
"How did Wherley even know you went there?"
"He...apparently he was having me followed for some time...."
Rocco now understood, "He was investigating you." When Bain didn't answer, Rocco pushed a little further, "So...what does the Chief Constable have on you?"
Bain took a deep breath and let it out, "A few minor election discrepancies–"
Rocco laughed. "So you rigged your election."
"Not rigged so much...as tweaked a few things," Bain said with a sheepish smile.
Rocco stared at the man for a moment, "So how did my name come up?"
"It didn't really," Bain said.
Rocco's eyes hardened, sending a signal not to screw with him.
Bain shrugged and gestured towards the door, "I...I just happened to hear the Chief Constable talking to Cressey out there in the reception area as they were leaving. My secretary was at lunch at the time and they had left my door partially open when they left. I don't think they realized I could hear."
Rocco gave the matter some thought. "Was the visit to the Paradise Club a one-time thing or...?"
Bain shrugged again, "I'm not sure. Cressey told me he'd be in touch again. But he didn't say when."
"Okay. Do you have any idea where he's staying then?" Rocco asked.
"I'm not positive. But he had me drop him off at The Renaissance Hotel on King Street that night," Bain answered.
Rocco considered the MPP for a moment, trying to judge his truthfulness. Could be a setup. Then again.... Bain started to look a little restless under the scrutiny. I don't think he'd have the balls to steer me wrong. After another moment, Rocco got up from the chair and headed for the door without another word.
"Mr. DeLuca?"
Rocco paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to look back.
Bain was standing up behind his desk, his hand caressing his chin, obviously thinking something over.
Rocco waited.
Bain finally slipped his thumbs into the pockets of his vest," Is it possible...that I could trade some information...in return for those pictures?"
Rocco raised an eyebrow. "What kind of information?"
"Just something else that I overheard between the Chief Constable and Cressey. Something you might find important."
Rocco just stood there, looking at the man, waiting.
Bain hesitated for a moment and then said, "There appears to be a second Pinkerton Detective being used by Chief Constable Wherley."
"I see."
"Wherley said he had received some very pertinent information about you. I have no idea what it was...but that's when I heard your name being mentioned."
"Pertinent information?" Rocco repeated slowly. "Do you know the name of the second Pinkerton agent?"
"Unfortunately, no on that as well," Bain said. He held up a finger, "However...that was when Detective Cressey said...and I quote...I still don't think a woman should be a Pinkerton agent."
That was surprising information to Rocco. And something he had never thought about. He looked at Bain, considering where to take this. "What kind of evidence does the chief Constable have against you, Isaac?"
Bain let out a sigh, "Some unfortunate correspondence–"
"Which would you rather have in your hands? The evidence or the photographs?"
Bain raised an eyebrow, "The evidence, of course."
"Of course. That way you stay in politics and carry on."
Bain gave a single nod.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do. And when you go back to the Paradise club? Take Carmen out back to bang her. Stay put of the rooms upstairs so you don't get your johnson photographed again."