The Coach House (36 page)
“Calm down, Marie. I didn’t know he was a mobster. And in fact, I still don’t know if he’s one.”
“Believe me. He is. Karen, I am in fear for my life here. Don’t you understand that?”
“Guess I do now. I’m sorry.”
Marie heaved an onerous sigh before going on. “C’mon. Let’s go. I’m going to check out just one jewelry store and then we’re going home.” She grabbed Karen’s arm. “This was a bad idea coming here,” she muttered.
The jeweler offered Marie five hundred dollars for the pair of rings. Desperate for money and now afraid to be in downtown Chicago any longer, she took it.
They entered Union Station an hour before their train was to depart. Karen wandered over to a newsstand to buy gum. Marie browsed through a magazine.
Marie saw the man approach her in her peripheral vision but didn’t look up from her magazine until he heard his voice.
“Nice look,” he said.
She turned her gaze to the face that belonged to the all-too-familiar voice. “What are you doing here, Richard?”
“Oh, a little birdie told me you were in town. We really need to talk, you know.”
“I have a train to catch.”
“It doesn’t leave for another forty-five minutes.”
He knows what train I’m on.
She scanned the area for Karen. “I have to go.”
He reached out for her arm. “She’ll be fine. Let’s find someplace to talk.”
Marie jerked her arm from his grip. “No.”
Where the hell is she?
“What are you afraid of, sweetheart?”
“Leave me alone or I’ll scream.”
“Scream, and the authorities will come. Is that what you want?”
Marie bit her lip as she stared into his eyes.
“I know all about your involvement with the break-in, my darling,” he said through a grin. “But I don’t think the authorities do.”
“What do you want?” she asked, trying hard to be calm.
“I just want to talk to you. What would be the harm in that?”
“This isn’t a good time. I’m with…”
“Karen Franklin. I know.”
How could he know her name?
She gave him an intense look and heaved a sigh. “I don’t trust you, Richard.”
He flashed one of his winning smiles. “You can trust me.” His voice was low and calm. “Maybe not some of the people I associate with, but you can always trust me.”
She looked past him anticipating Karen walking up to them any second. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I have plenty to say to you. All I ask for is fifteen minutes.” He reached out for her arm again.
She took a step back.
“When can we talk, my dear wife?”
“I told you I have nothing to say.”
“And I told you I do.” He looked at her with a seriousness she had never seen before. “I want you to come back home.”
Marie shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
She looked around to see who was in the near vicinity. “Too much has happened, Richard. Too many lies,” she whispered.
“One thing I never lied about to you was how much I loved you. I still do.”
Marie held her breath and tried not to look too long into his eyes.
“I’ll make it up to you, hon. Please come home.”
Her voice was faint. “No.”
He stood there, stoic and expressionless, for several seconds. When his face started to flush, he held up both his hands. “Okay. I give up. You win.” He shot a mocking smile. “I was just trying to make things easier…for both of us. But I see you’re not up for that.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Karen approached her within seconds of Richard leaving. “Ready?”
“Where were you?”
She held up an ice cream cone. “While you were chatting with that good looking guy, I thought I’d go next door for an ice cream.” She slurped the side of the cone with her tongue. “Is everything alright?”
“Mm-hm.”
The train ride back to Kansas City was drenched in awkward silences. Karen repeatedly apologized for the incident with Peanuts, and Marie agonized over her encounter with Richard.
She didn’t know what to make of Richard’s demeanor. He didn’t show that high level of confidence he had always had before, and, when he spoke, he almost sounded humbled. She kept reminding herself he was a salesman and always got what he went after, no matter what it took. And she was what he was after, at least for the moment. Maybe his intentions were honorable…and maybe not.
Marie went back and forth whether to tell Karen who he was. It bothered her he knew her name. It was one thing that she was within Richard’s scope, but an entirely different matter when it came to her friend. In the end, she decided not to tell her.
Marie tried to put the Richard encounter behind her in the weeks that followed. Her job at the phone company turned out to be more suitable than she had first anticipated. Her boss was impressed with her work, and whenever there was an opportunity to give her more responsibility, he gave it to her. While not the same level and type of position she held at Marshall Field’s, she was pleased with it, especially given her situation.
One day Susan Anderson, the woman in Personnel who first interviewed Marie, called her into her office. “Marie, a man came here earlier today looking for you,” she told her.
Marie immediately thought it was Richard.
“I didn’t give him any information, of course, not even that you worked here. But I thought you would want to know.”
“What did he look like?”
“In his forties maybe. Short and a little stout.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“He said he was your uncle and had been looking for you for a long time, ever since he heard your mother died. He said when he learned you might be working here, he came right over.”
“Well, I don’t have any uncles, at least not that I know of,” Marie explained, wondering if in fact she did have an uncle.
Susan’s face showed definite concern. “Listen, it’s almost quitting time. If you want someone to walk you to your car, let me know, and I’ll arrange for it.”
“Well, I don’t have a car. I’ve been walking to work.”
“Let me give you a lift home then.”
Marie had been keeping a floppy brimmed hat in her purse just in case and wore it out of the building to Susan’s car. She peeked out from underneath it to see if anyone suspicious was in the area.
“That’s the man. Across the street. That portly guy with the cigar.” He stood slightly behind an oak tree whose leaves had just turned orange and gold in honor of autumn.
Marie looked at him from under the brim of her hat as they drove by, her nerves stretched tighter than piano wire. There was something uncomfortably familiar about him, but his body was turned in such a way, she couldn’t get a clear look at his face. She was beginning to think there may be more than one short fat cigar-smoking creep in Richard’s malign circle of friends.
“Thank you for driving me home, Susan. I don’t know who he is, but you can never be too careful.”
“How about if I pick you up and drive you home the rest of the week?” she offered.
The more Marie thought about the short fat cigar-smoking man, the more unsettled she became. She decided to heed Karen’s advice and talk to the Atchison police.
Rather than walking into the police station cold, she called first to make an appointment, thinking that would ensure she met with the appropriate person. She gave the woman who answered the phone a brief explanation of the nature of her call. After being put on hold for several minutes, the woman told her that Officer Tony Macri would be happy to meet with her the following day.
Before going to the police station, Marie made a list of the things she wanted Officer Macri to know. She struggled with how much to tell him. She wanted the police to know she was scared of what Richard or one of his cohorts might do to her, but she didn’t want to give out too much information for fear it could make her situation worse. Like the meeting she interrupted the day she fled. She knew something illegal was going on, but she didn’t know exactly what. And then there was the possibility she could be wrong about what she thought she heard. After all, she was behind a closed door, and more than one person was talking at a time. If she was right about the possible extortion plan against Fiefield Hospital, the authorities should be made aware of it. But if she was wrong, that could end up being a regretful accusation.
She also went back and forth about confessing to the break-in. On one hand, she didn’t want to go to Chicago to face possible charges. On the other hand, it would be better if she confessed rather than have Richard turn her in. She decided to play that one by ear.
She definitely wanted the police to know about the portly cigar-smoking guy. If they saw him just hanging around, maybe they could question him.
Her appointment was at 3:00 p.m. The station was walking distance from her apartment.
“I have an appointment with Officer Macri,” she told the woman behind the reception desk. She was asked to take a seat.
After waiting ten minutes, she was escorted to a small room toward the back of the station. There she waited another ten minutes.
Nothing could have shocked her more than to see Richard walk into the room. Her heart started beating twice its normal rhythm. She glared at him for several seconds without saying anything.
He closed the door behind him but remained standing. “Hello, Marie.”
“What are you doing here?”
“The nice policeman here called me to let me know you wanted to see me, so I came right over.”
Marie got up to leave. Richard caught her arm.
“Not so fast, sweetheart.” Marie didn’t face him. His voice was soft but firm. “Look, I don’t appreciate you telling law enforcement you’re afraid of me. That’s not very good for my image. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut. Otherwise, I may have to have a conversation with one of my boys.” Marie didn’t respond. He let go of her arm and left the room.
Completely dumbfounded, Marie stood in the middle of the room trying to absorb what had just happened.
This is amazing. He’s got connections everywhere. And now I can’t trust the Atchison police?
Within a minute, an officer entered the room. “Okay, Miss Costa. Please have a seat and we can discuss your situation.”
Marie’s throat was tight. She was afraid the words weren’t going to come out. “That won’t be necessary,” she said halfway out the door.
She couldn’t get out of the police station fast enough. After giving the immediate area outside the station a once over for Richard or his car, she walked in the opposite direction of her apartment just in case he was waiting for her there. She ducked in a drug store and called Karen.
“Can you pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here.”
Karen arrived ten minutes later and drove Marie to her dress shop. They went into the back room.
“Now what’s going on? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Marie told Karen about her run-in with Richard.”
“What!? How’d he know you were going to be there?”
“Apparently his connections with the police go beyond Chicago. Or maybe he knew someone who knew someone. I don’t know. They all seem to stick together, though.”
“Marie, what are you going to do? I mean, what do you think he meant by ‘talk to one of his boys?’”
Marie gave Karen a dubious look.
“You just can’t ignore him.”
“Well, what can I do? I can’t go to the police.” Marie let out a heavy sigh. She hated the thought of uprooting the comfortable refuge she had created for herself in Atchison. “And I’m not going to run again. I’m done running.”
“As much as I’d hate to see you go, maybe…”
“He’d just find me again, Karen. I know him.”
“He’s not going to stop until he gets you back.”
