After finishing for the day, I finally got my boss’ permission to escape the lion’s den. What a nightmare!
Nathan stopped by my desk and offered me a ride. “What was that all about?” he grinned.
“Not now. Let’s talk on the way home.”
Outside, I took a deep breath. “That was a close call. Mrs. Harper was ready to feed me to the sharks.”
“Hate to say I told you so. Good thing Mack bailed you out.” Nathan didn’t even try to hide his smile. I think they enjoyed seeing my public humiliation.
“Mack was a lifesaver. If he hadn’t lied for me, I’d be out of work.” For once, we both agreed about Mack.
As Nathan drove, I described my debacle in detail, imitating Mrs. Harper’s shrill voice and Mr. Thomas’ bark. “The gangs have some nerve, using our photos to blackmail a Federal agent. I hope the editors don’t fall for it next time.” I heaved a sigh. “Guess they won’t let me off my leash anytime soon. And I doubt I’ll be seeing much of Agent Burton.”
“Better stay away from Burton, for your own protection.” Nathan gloated. “Obviously the gangs are trying to provoke him or better yet, run him out of town.”
“Sounds like the Wild West to me. A lawless society.”
“The gangs like to call the shots without any interference. It’s all about control, power, leverage.”
“What if the gangs go after Burton next?”
“He should have thought about the consequences before he took the job.” Nathan shrugged.
He was right. Didn’t Burton realize what he was getting into?
Nathan turned on 25th Street, slowing down by the train station. “Remember our plans? Got everything we need?”
How could I forget? We still needed to figure out the cryptic RR628 notation in Andrews’ ledger. As Nathan parked across from the train station, I marveled at its imposing façade, its geometric carvings and towering columns. Inside, I admired the stylized black and white glass light fixtures hanging low from the high ceilings. I’d never been to New York City, yet, but I imagined that Grand Central Station was at least twice as nice.
“Let’s look around, get some ideas. I’ll go get a train schedule from the station master, and see if it’s a train number.” I found the daily and weekend schedules, and we sat on a carved wooden bench near the trains. Then I pulled out the ledger and compared the arrival and departure times, but it was a dead-end. “These don’t seem to match anything here.”
“Maybe it’s a date? That’s over a week away. What do you suggest we do—sit here all day and wait for a mysterious stranger to appear? Sorry, doll, but I don’t have that kind of time—or patience.”
We wandered around the station aimlessly, studying trains and platform signs, departure times, whatever had a number. “We may be going up a blind alley,” I admitted. Is that what Alice intended?
Frustrated, I watched the travelers rushing around, laden down with trunks and luggage. A few women struggled with children, trying to hold their hands while carrying, or dragging, their suitcases. Nathan offered to help one pretty young mother of four with her luggage, lifting each child onto the departing train steps. I knew he’d make a great dad one day.
“That was nice. Must be hard to handle all those kids alone.”
“She’s in for a long train ride. I wonder what happened to the father?” He surveyed the area. “Say, I’m starving. Want a bite to eat?”
We found a snack bar located near the clock tower, chiming at 6:00 p.m., and sat down facing the ticket windows. Nathan ordered our sandwiches—ham and cheese on rye for me, roast beef on sourdough for him—while I watched the flurry of activity all around. A young flower vendor in a faded hat approached, smiling at Nathan, but I shooed her away, not in the mood for flowers or flirting.
As we ate, I complained: “What a lousy day. First, my story gets cut down to two sentences, then my editors bawl me out for the Surf Club photos. My personal life is none of their business.”
“Being nosy is their stock in trade.”
“You said it.” I heaved a huge sigh. “Can’t believe I had to depend on Mack to rescue me, like a dumb damsel in distress. Worse, now I have gangsters tailing me in gold Bentleys.”
“What do you expect?” He threw up his hands. “You were seen at the Beach Gang’s swankiest club, photographed drinking with the new Prohibition agent! I say Mack deserves a medal.”
“Go chase yourself.” Where was my medal? I almost got fired!
A Negro shoeshine boy with baggy pants held up by red suspenders had positioned himself by the snack bar. When he wasn’t polishing shoes, he energetically tap-danced for change. I threw a few coins in his hat and he beamed at me with nice white teeth. Hard to be down in the dumps with such an enterprising entertainer nearby.
At the next table, an old man with wavy white hair and a long beard stood up to leave, pulling out some change to pay the waitress. I watched as he picked up his satchel and hat and walked off, leaving his spectacles and keys on the table.
“Sir, you forgot your things!” I called out but he kept going. In a flash, I grabbed his items and followed him to the trains. For an old codger, he was fairly agile. I rushed to catch up and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, but you left these on your table.”
He stopped and patted his pockets. “Well, I’ll be. I couldn’t get very far without my keys or reading spectacles. Thank you, miss.”
I watched him walk over to the train lockers, shoulders hunched, select a loose key and pull out his luggage.
“Do you need any help with your bags?” He was short and stout, like my grandfather with a Santa Claus beard.
“No, but thank you for asking, miss. I’ve been managing all these years on my own.”
“Take care, sir. Have a safe trip.” Sadly, I hadn’t seen my grandfather, who lived in Europe, in years.
When I returned, Nathan joked, “Got a thing for old-timers?”
“Only trying to do a good deed, like you. But he gave me an idea.” Eagerly, I pulled out the key and laid it on the table. “His key looked just like this. I think it may open one of these train lockers.”
Nathan’s eyes widened in anticipation. “Let’s go find out.”
I felt like a giddy kid on a scavenger hunt as we darted through the rows of train lockers, looking for number 628. The lockers were arranged in a maze of blocks, but finally we found it in a remote corner, away from the hustle and bustle. Nathan and I exchanged hopeful glances as I inserted the key into the keyhole and turned the lock. Voila’! A perfect fit.
The metal door opened without a hitch, and we peered inside. A long black bag almost two feet long and a foot wide, resembling a doctor’s satchel, sat inside the locker.
Suddenly I got cold feet. Should we open it there or take it straight to Alice? But shouldn’t we check it first, to be safe?
“What are you waiting for?” He nudged me. “Hurry, open it!”
“Hold your horses, Nathan. I feel funny opening a stranger’s bag,” I stalled. Still, curiosity won over courtesy. I squatted down and turned my back to the main room, trying to block any nosy Neds or Nellies from view. I tugged on the zipper and opened the bag wide so we both could get a good look inside.
My breath caught when I saw the contents: The bag contained several stacks of crisp, neat bills—tens, twenties, fifties and hundreds—filled to the brim.
******