Theo walked with a pep in his step as he closed in on the building at Moulton and Leaves. He had seen Capstone’s lifestyle and wanted to be suffused in it. He stopped at the front door and looked himself over. If he wanted the job, he figured he had to dress the part. The brown derby that his father had given him was cocked slightly to the left. The crease in his tan trousers was so sharp it could draw blood. And the matching jacket fit nicely over his torso.
No answer. He knocked again. No answer. Hearing a footfall, he turned and saw a large rotund man coming toward him. The man peered at Theo, causing Theo to say, “I’m here to see Cappie.”
The man said nothing. Theo stood back as the man opened the door and walked in. Theo didn’t move. “You coming?” the man asked.
Theo nodded.
“Follow me,” the rotund man said.
Theo followed at a distance. The rotund man’s skin was the color of the inside of a strawberry shortcake; he was at least a half a foot taller than Theo, and he moved like a bull walrus on land.
The shed was dilpidated, and boards were missing from the one of the walls. Wrought iron rested against a dividing wall. An anvil and other blacksmith tools sat on a table.
The rotund man approached a sliding wood door and rapped it. Someone from the other side of the door slid it open, and the rotund man walked in, followed by Theo.
The air was redolent of beer, whiskey, and smoke. As a patch of smoke cleared, Theo saw Capstone sitting at a desk near the back wall. He looked around the spartan room, starting at his left where he saw the two minx women he’d seen at the rib joint; they looked at Theo and teased him with their eyes, looking at him like he was a steak dinner. To his right were three of Capstone’s associates, each wearing suits and sitting on bales of hay, peering at Theo.
While writing something on paper, Capstone said, “I said at sunset. Where you been?”
Theo recalled that as he spoke to Capstone just outside the entrance to Joe’s rib joint the day he met him, Capstone had said after sunset. But because Theo felt his skin tingle from Capstone’s menacing voice, he dared not gainsay the man who’d provide him with income. He felt it best to apologize. “Sorry I’m late, boss.”
Capstone stood up, adjusting the foulard around his beefy neck. He moved from behind the desk and looked at Theo, who was about fifteen feet away.
The suite was once a stable for horses, but Capstone had it converted for his personal use. The only sign of human occupation was the desk and three chairs. Light passed through from a window up high. When darkness fell, kerosene lanterns were used to shine light on Capstone’s illicit activities.
Capstone stuffed his ubiquitous Cuban cigar in his mouth and picked some fluff from the sleeve of his burgundy suit jacket. Satisfied that the fluff had been removed, he extended his short arms to Theo. “Theo, my boy, welcome to the executive suite. Come to Papa.”
Theo removed his derby and did as commanded. He bent down to allow Capstone to wrap his arms around him. After the embrace, Capstone said, “How you been, boy?”
“Been doing good, Cappie.”
Capstone returned to his seat and propped his stubby legs on the desk. “Ready to start collecting? Can you do that for me, my dear boy?” Capstone said.
“What’s that?” Theo asked.
Capstone looked at Pad, the bull walrus who had escorted Theo inside the shed. Capstone nodded at Pad, which cued Pad to tell Theo his job assignment. Pad said, “Every Wednesday and Friday, your job is to collect numbers from bookies at different locations. Got that?”
Theo was silent.
“This boy here’s dumb, Cappie. Want me to make him talk?”
Capstone hired Pad because Pad was useful in helping Capstone get his money. Pad had worked in a prison mining camp for two years because he was convicted of failing to pay a debt. Coming out of the pestilent mining camp, he had found his way north where he met Capstone. He had become hardened and angry, just what Capstone desired in a man to help him with his business.
“Give him a chance,” Capstone said.
Pad grabbed Theo’s left elbow and ushered him to a corner of the executive room to explain the rules. Pad ended the conversation, saying to Theo, “Don’t let Cappie down.”
“See you Saturday,” Pad told Theo. “Don’t be late.”
Theo nodded and headed for the exit. As one of Capstone’s associates began to slide open the door, Pad said, “You gonna need a piece.”
“Why?” Theo asked.
Pad pulled out a silver whiskey flask, removed the top, and took a swill. As he put the top back on the flask, Pad said, “It’s for your protection, and you gonna need it to enforce payments. Shallow receipts won’t look good around here.”
After Theo left, Capstone looked at his men and asked, “Think he’ll do right by me?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He removed a pistol from the desk drawer and stroked the barrel.
Capstone looked at Pad who was swilling whiskey. “Come here,” Capstone instructed Pad.
“Yeah, boss.”
“Let me see that bottle or whatever it is.”
Pad hesitated. “I don’t want your cheap whiskey,” Capstone added.
He handed the flask to Capstone. Looking at the engraving on it, Capstone said, “Where’d you get this?”
He told Capstone how he had found Robert, the busybody that most town folk knew, dead on the floor. “This shiny bottle was in his vest pocket; I took it.”
Capstone shook his head. “I liked the old man,” Pad said. “After I bought this place from George, he made me promise that Robert could come to the shed every morning for an hour and drink his whiskey. I guess he did that even after George moved to Atlanta.”
Still looking at the flask, Capstone asked Pad, “Do you know the meaning of all this?”
“No.”