Second Street Station (18 page)

The monthly Wednesday morale booster, as Chief Campbell had put it, consisted of off-duty policemen from Second Street Station gathering for drinks. Clancy’s Bar was mostly a policemen’s hangout anyway, so it didn’t take much effort to organize the gathering. The bar was always three deep, but the Second Street officers were in the back, where there were several tables and room to roam from group to group.

Chief Campbell was holding court in the center, surrounded by a handful of policemen, Sean among them. It looked as if he was spewing nuggets of wisdom to his flock, but he was just being congenial as men moved in and out to get in a word with him. Some of them tried to use these meetings as a chance to impress the chief, some to get to know him better, and others used them as a bulletproof excuse for going home to their wives completely smashed. Chief Campbell knew all his men: the ambitious ones, the loyal, the deserving, and the malcontents. He wasn’t swayed by their behavior on Wednesdays.

“I’m feeling the effects of this good brew,” he announced, holding up his beer mug. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Chief Campbell headed for the bathroom, nodding along the way to his men, including Billy, who was standing next to Officer Russell and another policeman. Officer Russell had already imbibed far beyond his share. He nudged Billy.

“Look who’s here. Our lady savior.”

Mary had just entered Clancy’s. She had already shared a good part of a vodka bottle with Tesla and was well on her way to being soused. But after the bad press she had received regarding the incident in the alley, she didn’t want to appear the least bit tipsy, so she had splashed some cold water on her face. It did little to help, but what the water didn’t do was aided considerably by the juvenile behavior of the policemen as she walked into their lions’ den.

Boys will be boys, and when they make pacts, they’re especially emboldened if they are all together and drink is involved. Mary got a good taste of this behavior at Clancy’s that night. As she made her way to the rear, men stepped in front of her, blocking her way. It was annoying, but it made her determined and helped her focus, erasing some of the effects of the vodka. Trying her best to appear unaffected, she went around each and every one of them. In the back room, she got more of the same. She joined a group of three police officers, who quickly dispersed, leaving her alone. She scanned the crowd, and eventually she and Sean locked eyes. It was easy to read his mind. He had told her he couldn’t help her, and he couldn’t. Frustrated, he shook his head and walked away from her over to the bar.

Officer Russell turned to Billy and the others with them.

“Time to send our lady detective crying into the night.”

“Leave her be,” Billy said. “She’ll be gone soon enough.” Like the others, Billy was upset at Mary’s appointment, feeling it was a slight to all the men at Second Street Station. But it wasn’t personal to him. Mary was just a symbol, a symbol whom he happened to like. He wished her no harm and certainly no cruelty.

Officer Russell had different priorities, and getting revenge on the bitch who’d made him look bad in front of the chief was number one. “Am I the only one whose testicles are still intact?”

After his rallying cry, he gulped down the last of his drink, hoping someone would meet his challenge and join him. No one did, but his boast had made retreat impossible. He straightened up and swaggered out toward Mary. The swagger soon became more of a stagger, but he made it to her. He stood there for a brief moment, staring, grinning from ear to ear. He thought he was being intimidating, but he just looked dazed and stupid. Finally, he mumbled out some words.

“Detective, you know what a johnson is?”

“Sorry?” Mary couldn’t make out what he had said. No one could.

Overcompensating,
Officer Russell spoke much louder and slower, carefully enunciating each word. Now everyone in the bar could hear him, including Chief Campbell, who had just returned from his journey to the bathroom.

“Johnson. Do you know what it is?”

“No, pray tell, what?” Mary answered, humoring him.

The bar was suddenly silent. They all knew this routine. But would Officer Russell actually go through with it? They soon got their answer. With drunken bravado, he dropped his pants. He was totally nude from the waist down. To emphasize his point, Officer Russell, who would never be accused of subtlety, did a pelvic thrust so that his penis flapped in the air.

“That’s a johnson!” he proudly boasted.

All eyes were on Mary. She calmly looked down at his crotch.

“Oh, I see. Like a prick but infinitely smaller.”

For a split second there was complete silence, and then they all burst out laughing. A horde of officers rushed by Officer Russell toward Mary. Billy was first.

“Ah, Mary, how can I stay mad at ya?” And he hugged her.

While the other officers gathered around Mary, Sean made his way through the sea of people at the bar to Officer Russell who had just pulled up his pants. Sean shoved him.

“That’s my sister, you bastard!”

“Ah, piss off, Handley.” Officer Russell shoved him back.

In no time fists were flying. Sean caught him with a roundhouse right that sent him stumbling back several feet. To his credit, Officer Russell was a scrapper. He came right back at Sean. It wasn’t long before the other police officers descended upon the two men and pulled them apart. Within moments, Chief Campbell had gotten between them. Blood trickled down from Sean’s mouth, but he was still struggling to get free from the officers restraining him and that didn’t stop him from goading Officer Russell.

“Not so easy when you’re fightin’ a man!” he shouted.

Chief Campbell had had enough. “Shut up, Handley! Go clean yourself!”

Chief Campbell’s word was law. The men holding Sean let him go. They knew he wouldn’t dare disobey the chief right in front of him.

Mary was all at once surprised and pleased at what had just transpired. She and Sean had had a contentious relationship their whole lives, and yet here he was defending her honor while risking a reprimand at work and maybe his job. Was it possible that, in spite of all their differences, deep down, he really loved his little sister? This thought made her extremely happy. She took out her handkerchief and tried to wipe the blood away from Sean’s mouth, but he shrugged her off, stared daggers at Officer Russell, and then headed to the bathroom. It was typical Sean. Mary couldn’t help smiling.

Chief Campbell put his arm around Officer Russell and took him aside as the rest of the gathering regained some semblance of normalcy. Chief Campbell was not one to mince words.

“You’re fired, Russell,” he said.

“What! You can’t fire me for that!”

“I’m not. You see, you have the distinction of not only being an ass but also a lousy cop.”

Even Officer Russell knew there was no changing Chief Campbell’s mind. Frustrated, he stormed out of Clancy’s, pushing aside anyone in his way.

Chief Campbell turned toward his men. He saw Mary in the middle of them chatting with the others, at last a real part of the group. He caught her eye. She was happy. So was he. He just hoped they’d both feel that way when all of this was over.

Mary was not three sheets to the wind but she had surpassed two. Between the vodka she had drunk earlier and the beers she had with the men at Clancy’s, she had consumed enough alcohol that later, at home, her mind kept wandering from the medical journals she had put aside to read. Edison’s behavior fascinated her, and she wanted to learn more about the wonder drug cocaine, but not this night. She stared blankly at the stack of journals on the table in her apartment, looking for an excuse to procrastinate. It came in the form of a loud knock on her door, followed by a louder male voice with a heavy Brooklyn accent.

“Open up. It’s Sal Dominick of the Brooklyn Trolley Car Company.”

“What do you want?”

“What do ya think, lady? You turned our car into kindling wood, and I got two horses with a case of diarrhea that won’t quit.”

Mary had discussed the trolley incident with Chief Campbell, and he had said he would take care of it. Either he hadn’t yet or nobody had told this Sal Dominick, who apparently possessed the gentility of a Brahma bull. How dare he bang on a person’s door at a time when working people were getting ready for bed! Mary rose.

“Chief Campbell has probably already spoken to—” She opened the door and was stunned. “Charles!”

The ruse over, he exclaimed, “Thank God you’re home!” He rushed by her and inside.

“Sal Dominick?” she asked as she closed the door.

“You can’t have male visitors, but who would object to Sal Dominick?”

Mary laughed, but in spite of his playacting, Charles was on edge. He paced, something clearly bothering him, as he absentmindedly reached into his coat pocket.

“Oh, here.”

He took out a pistol and offered it to her. It was a Colt 1860 army revolver.

“What’s this?”

“I believe it’s a pistol, unless Cadbury’s invented a new style of chocolate bar.” Before Mary could protest, he charged ahead. “Father took it from a Union officer during the war. All it does is stir up bad memories. In your possession, at least I know it will be doing some good.”

“What good?”

“Easing my conscience, for one. There are powerful people who would like to see you disappear. I, quite selfishly, would like you to remain visible and intact. Now, this is loaded, which means it can shoot six times. Have you ever used one?”

Mary recognized the pistol. Sean had practiced with one when he was preparing to join the police force. She had tried it out a few times but was by no means proficient.

“Yes, but—”

“Okay. Now where do you want me to put it?” Charles was not to going accept “no” for an answer, and Mary knew it. She got out a large roasting pan from a kitchen cabinet and lifted the lid.

“My mother gave this to me, also in spite of my protests. I doubt I’ll ever be cooking a roast this huge in this little apartment—even if I knew how.”

Charles placed the gun in the pan. “Hopefully you’ll never need to use it. Done.”

Mary was touched by his concern. She didn’t want to spoil his gesture, and she managed to utter a very sincere, “Thank you, Charles.”

“I’m glad that’s over.” He went back to pacing. “My stomach’s doing flips, and my mind’s useless.”

“It must be love,” she quipped as she put the pan back in the cabinet.

“Certainly”—he smiled then—“but not this.” He clutched his stomach.

“How could I forget? You’re meeting with Edison tomorrow.”

With so many things on his plate, Charles was easily distracted. He stopped and stared at the table. “Medical journals?”

“It’s part of the job.” She took a journal out of the stack and handed it to Charles. “In fact, I just read a study on cocaine in here. It says it causes loss of sleep, deadens the appetite, and can result in violent mood swings. And it is also highly addictive…Our Mr. Edison may have a serious problem.”

But Charles’s mind was on other things. Seeming to ignore Mary’s findings, he put the medical journal down, then mused aloud, “I always wanted to marry a lady doctor.”

“Not a lady detective?”

“The lady detective was going to be my sexy mistress.”

It was the right reply; Mary’s pleased reaction told him so. But Charles couldn’t escape what was troubling him.

“I’m concerned about Father. He’s not well, you know. He hasn’t long to live.”

“How awful! I am so sorry to hear that.” She knew it sounded trite, but she took solace in the fact her words were heartfelt.

“He’s convinced Coca-Cola is the legacy that will validate his existence on earth when he’s gone.”

“That’s absurd. It’s just a fountain drink. What about his family? He has you—”

Consumed with his emotion, Charles interrupted. “Me? I’ve failed to provide him with much joy.”

“Don’t, Charles. Don’t do that.”

“It’s true. I can’t point to anything I’ve accomplished on my own.”

“Some people take longer to find the mountain they want to climb. That’s not—”

“I never spent much time with Father growing up.” Charles continued, “When I was little he was away at the war, and then he was always in the pharmacy fooling with his concoctions.” He turned, facing Mary. “If I can ease his mind by helping him see that his creation will live on, then I’ve done something. Something significant, don’t you think, Mary?” He looked into Mary’s eyes, his expression very much like a little boy’s.