Two mornings later when Johnny reported for work, the foreman beckoned to him. “Big boss wants to see you, straight back through that door.”
Curious about the summons to the office in the rear, Johnny’s heart pounded while walking the short distance to the back of the warehouse. A knock on the heavy wooden door brought a gruff, “Come in,” from the other side.
The room he entered held sparse furniture. A large mahogany desk dominated the space, behind which sat the man who sent for him. A bald head framed by a fringe of gray hair sat atop narrow shoulders. The small head seemed held erect by a high, stiff collar, adorned by a gray ascot tie. A well-trimmed beard, whitened by age rimmed his jaw line.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, step over here by this desk so I can take a look at you. You’re new to our employ aren’t you?” The voice sounded like rusty nails scraped across slate.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Been close by when some things happened around here, I understand.”
“That’s a fact. Yes, I was.”
“I also hear you consort with some of these street women hereabout.”
“Never came to much, sir. One of them wanted more money than I had. The fire interrupted the second try.”
“Take my advice, sonny, you’ll have nothing to do with any of them. Man can catch something dreadful, if he isn’t careful. ’Sides I wouldn’t know how anyone could abide being near one of them, as ugly as some of them are.”
“I take your meanin’, sir. I’d best give that up before something bad happens.”
“Reason I called you in here, I need someone with a clear head to do some errands for me. One of our good-for-nothing boys got himself into a bind with the police. Can’t use a man like that. You seem to be a lad can think for himself. That fire could have done considerable damage you hadn’t come along when you did. I don’t believe a word that cop says, him always skulking around here with his hand out. Can you drive a horse and trap?”
“Not too well, never tried it, but I’d do what I can if you want to send me somewhere.”
“We’ll see soon enough. Go back to your work crew and I’ll send for you if I need you.”
At the end of the work day Johnny left a coded message in the piling of the riverfront pier indicating that the owner of the warehouse and presumed head counterfeiter approached him about running errands. After stopping at a tavern for a quick supper, he returned to his room on Prince Street for much needed sleep. Then the nightmares began.
Johnny hid in a darkened wood, the foliage thick and ominous. Faint sounds of movement alarmed him but the inky blackness prevented him from seeing what caused the rustling in the underbrush all around him. He gripped his musket until his hands ached. Alone and fearful, he tried to edge forward. Vinous tendrils impeded his step. The disturbance in the scrubby growth seemed to grow closer. His dread increased when the icy fingers of panic began to clench his throat. Figures in black uniforms emerged without warning from the impenetrable gloom, their bayoneted weapons poised. Johnny raised his musket, pointed it at the looming shadow nearest to him and pulled the trigger. The weapon did not fire. Certain he had loaded it; he could only believe that the musket had misfired for a reason unknown to him. The shadows sprang forward, their bayonets aimed at his chest. Johnny awoke with a start, perspiration beaded on his forehead. He stared into the dark of his tiny room clutching his thin blanket, uncertain at first where he was. He slipped back to a deeper slumber, relieved that he had only dreamt the frightening images.
When he awakened again dawn had broken through his window. Dressing hurriedly, he found a cup of the landlady’s strong coffee and one of her buttered biscuits revived him enough to head back to his job. He stretched his muscles while he walked. The achiness and soreness after so many days of strenuous labor had abated.
Early in his shift, Johnny heard a female voice call his name. He turned toward the sound and doffed his cap.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said.
“You’re wanted inside,” she said.
Johnny hesitated.
“C’mon,” she urged with a sharp edge to her voice, “People are waiting for you.”
The woman fell into step alongside him as he hurried to the office in the back.
“Straight in there,” she said, pointing to the office, then whirled on her heel and walked back along the aisle between barrels and crates stored in the cavernous building.
On an impulse Johnny glanced back over his shoulder as she strode away.
“Right through the door, Mister,” she said, sensing intuitively that he would glance back, “never mind looking.”
Johnny knocked softly and entered in response to the direction from inside. The same wizened old man sat behind his desk.
“I’ve got a package for you to deliver,” he said indicating a wrapped bundle in front of him. “Go directly to the address I give you. You can walk the ways, it’s not that far. Do not detour, and above all do not disturb the wrapping. The contents are none of your business. We’ll know if you try to examine what’s inside. The man to whom you’ll deliver it will give you a sealed canvas bag to bring back. Do not delay returning here with the bag.”
“I understand, sir,” Johnny replied. “I’ll get it there and back quick as I can.”
The man whose name he still did not know slid the bundle across the desk to Johnny. He placed a slip of paper on it. “That’s the address, you know where that is?”
Johnny, who grew up in the same neighborhood and knew it well, remained noncommittal. “I have an idea. It shouldn’t be hard to find”
“See that you do and get back here as soon as you deliver it,” the old man snapped.
“I’ll be back right away.”
Johnny tucked the package under his arm and started along the Bowery. He made the delivery with a mental note of the address where he dropped off his bundle. Upon his return, the foreman retrieved the canvas sack he carried and put him back to work on a loading crew. During a lull in the activity, a sidelong glance toward the open door of the warehouse told him that the young woman who had summoned him stood there watching. He averted his eyes quickly but found the attention of the girl caused an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. For the rest of the day he made a studied attempt to keep from stealing glances toward the building. His face reddened when he thought of her and he knew it unwise to pay any attention to the young woman who obviously tried to unsettle him.
When he returned in his room at the end of an exhausting work day, complicated by the errand he ran and the watchful eye of the young woman, Johnny became drowsy and almost sank into sleep. He forced himself alert, coded a message to Philips and Donellan, left it at the designated place on the pier and returned to the rooming house.
Early next morning before reporting to work he hastened to the piling used as their dead drop and cleared the answering message left for him. The note instructed him to watch for one of his back-up team keeping surveillance on the loading dock where he worked. If given a package to deliver, Johnny would indicate with a prearranged signal that he had another assignment to carry out. That day passed uneventfully, however, with no sign of the mysterious young woman or a call to act as a courier.
Donellan and Philips took turns maintaining their observation of the loading dock from a vantage point not far away but in such a manner that only Johnny became aware of their presence. During the day he did eavesdrop on a conversation that told him the name of the old man who gave the orders and managed the various enterprises with the warehouse as their hub. Simeon Barr ran the clandestine activities from the back room office where Johnny received the packages to deliver. Farther back, hidden in the recesses of the building behind the owner’s office, the printing presses the detectives had seen through the window spewed forth their illicit contraband, which after distribution, entered the currency system of the United States economy.
Just the sound of the woman’s voice, along with her alternating flirtatious and imperious mannerisms, intrigued Johnny despite his awareness of her involvement in a dangerous and illegal activity. Even though not particularly pretty or remarkable in any way, he sensed an alluring sensuality about her. Confused and troubled, he found her quirks of personality enticing. He wanted to speak to her even though she remained aloof and hidden through most of the day.
Then with a sense of shame he remembered Deirdre. His quandary about how to contact her still baffled him. The longer he went without seeing her, the more distant her memory became. Johnny dared not confide his thoughts to anyone, conscious that the slightest hint of distraction from his undercover role would mark him as a risk and cause his reassignment.
When on occasion she would appear at the entrance to the loading dock, Letitia’s haughty smirk became a new distraction. Johnny remained at a loss trying to decipher the meaning. The deliveries had become more frequent, and with them Letitia’s imperious summonses to report to the back office. The destinations of the packages varied, so that a regular pattern of who may be the street-level purchasers and distributors of the phony money had not yet emerged. The detectives shadowed him at discreet distances during his deliveries and made a record of the locations.
The next time Johnny cleared his message hiding place, he found a letter from Deirdre forwarded to him by his handlers from the address he had given her months before when he had shed his uniform and began to work for the Detective Service.
Dear Johnny, I haven’t heard from you since you went back to the Army. I hope you are safe and not hurt. When you went back, my feelings of loneliness were so hard to bear. Please write and tell me you are well. I worry so much. Not much news from here. Just a letter from you would be such a comfort. Love, Deirdre
Johnny decided to answer her without telling her his location. He thought of asking one of the detectives to mail a note from Washington but knew how long it would take to reach her. Finally, he made a decision. He would need to tell her that his exact whereabouts must remain secret but that he would try to see her as soon as he could. He sat in his room and composed an answer.
Dearest Deirdre, This letter is mailed from New York. I have been sent back here to do some work for the government. I can’t tell you what it is, but it has to do with why I was able to visit you before without my uniform. It’s such a long story and much too complicated to tell in a letter, but please believe I’m all right and nearby. I would prefer if you didn’t tell your parents. I’m taking a chance by writing to you and have to trust that you will not give away my confidence. It must remain between just us. Right now I can’t get away even for a moment. I think of you always. Here is an address where you can write to me. Please do not disclose it to anyone. Love Johnny.
He mailed it from a post office near the rooming house but hoped it would arrive without him writing a return address on the envelope and that her mother wouldn’t ask too many questions. Johnny held out hope from the tenor of Deirdre’s note that the pressure from Deirdre’s mother to seek a vocation in the convent had abated. Then thoughts of Letitia crept back into his consciousness. He reproached himself for rejoicing just then over hearing from Deirdre and writing her a letter and yet could not push the girl at the warehouse from his mind. Her enigmatic smile so often flashed at him then quickly turned off when he looked at her for a second longer than he should, had given him feelings that bordered on sensual attraction. Johnny began to wait with some anxiety for another request to deliver a package if only to hear her voice call him and hold her gaze for a brief time.
Frequently she would tease him about the shabbiness of his clothing or his awkward, shuffling way when she spoke to him. He found at those moments that he welcomed the attention and did not feel offended at her mischievous taunting. Just to have her pay attention to him gave him qualms of uneasiness. He would feel like an invisible halter had suddenly jerked him when her expression changed and she took on her officious attitude as the boss’s granddaughter and assumed a haughty posture. Perhaps, he reasoned, if he could see Deirdre and hold her close once again these feelings and distractions would pass.
During his next delivery errand, dusk slowly descended on the street while Johnny strode with purposeful steps toward his destination. A figure dressed in dark clothing lunged out of the shadows at him brandishing a large knife. Instinctively, Johnny raised the wrapped package he carried to deflect the attack with the knife aimed at his throat. The knife tore at the paper bundle but gave Johnny a moment to react. He lashed out with a telling kick at which his attacker recoiled and doubled over in pain. Dropping the bundle now torn and spilling its contents, Johnny smashed his fist into the face of his assailant. In the dim light Johnny thought he recognized the man. Not a man at all, just a boy hardly older than he. The youngster, who had formerly delivered the packages that Johnny now carried, had tried to kill him.
The knife clattered to the ground as the boy staggered backward. Johnny swept up the bone-handled blade and turned to face the would-be murderer. Not willing to pursue vengeance, Johnny watched the boy lurch off into the darkness holding his lower regions and gasping in pain. Fast approaching footsteps behind him caused Johnny to spin around. Detective Donellan drew abreast and bent hurriedly to retrieve the contents of the torn package before they scattered across the roadway.
“Good job there, fighting him off like that. This assignment suddenly got more dangerous.”
“I guess he’s mad at me for taking his place,” Johnny said, trying to catch his breath.
“Looks like some of these bills have been torn. You’d better get back to the warehouse and let the old man know you ran into trouble. Can’t deliver this bundle in the shape it’s in now. Nobody would want it. Not good for much, even if they are bogus.”
“Good thing I have the knife to explain what happened. I’d hate to go back without the package, still less bleeding from a knife wound.”
“I shouldn’t be seen with you. Get back to the old man fast as you can. We’ll deal with that hooligan without the police getting involved. A police investigation might expose our operation. We know for sure we can’t trust the cop that walks this beat.”
Johnny slipped the knife into his pocket. “I’ll keep this. Maybe next time I’ll have something to fight back with instead of a bundle of paper.”
Donellan handed him the package with the slashed phony currency, melted away into the fading light and Johnny headed back to his place of employment.
Stopping just outside the office, the sound of a conversation drifted through the wooden door. He entered after knocking softly and deposited the ruined bundle on the desk. The elderly owner of the warehouse sat at his desk in his office, lit by the glow from two oil lamps. Letitia sat in a corner reading a book. She leapt to her feet.
“What happened?” she gasped.
“Indeed,” Simeon barked, “what’s going on?”
Johnny started to explain. “I was waylaid on my way to make the delivery. I think whoever it was wanted the package I was carrying.”
He retrieved the knife from where he had hidden it. “This is what he used to try to cut my throat.”
Letitia stepped forward. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Before Johnny could answer, Simeon Barr snapped: “Quiet, Letitia, let me find out what happened.”
She shrank back to her chair, intimidated by her grandfather’s voice.
“A man sprang out at me from the shadows of a doorway with this knife. I stopped the slash aimed for my throat by sticking the bundle in front of me. That’s how it got torn open. I sort of kicked him, which made him drop the knife. Then he ran off. He looked kind of young, maybe near my age.”
“Hmm,” Simeon croaked. “Not a very experienced cutthroat.”
“No, sir, lucky for me.”
“Mighty strange, though. Someone sent a mere boy to rob a package like that. The police didn’t get involved did they?”
“No, sir, I got back here quick as I could. My guess is he acted on his own. I think it was the boy whose place I took; just mad he lost his spot.”
Johnny glanced across at the girl now staring at him with a mixture of bemusement and awe on her features. A faint smile crossed her lips. Johnny blushed and looked away.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. Come back when your shift is over. We’ll have another package ready. That’s it.”
Johnny turned to leave but found himself stealing another glimpse of Letitia. She met his look with a level stare of her blue eyes. He closed the door behind him and hurried through the darkened warehouse. On his way to his rooming house, he stayed in the shadows, careful to guard against another assailant coming upon him without warning.