James Sheehan - The Law of Second Chances

For the first time Charlie was starting to realize that she might be in some real danger. “But my dog. I’ve got to get somebody to take care of my dog. And I’ve got to tell my mother I’m going out of town.”

Dorothy thought about it for a moment.

“Can your mother watch your dog?” she asked.

“Sure. She does it all the time when I go to Florida.”

“Leave me a key,” Dorothy told her. “And write down your mother’s address. I’ll take your dog over myself tomorrow, and I’ll explain to your mother that you had to go out of town and you’ll call her next week. Anything else you can think of?”

Charlie was bewildered. “I guess not,” she replied.

Dorothy handed her a piece of paper. “Before I forget-if you want to talk to Jack, call this number. Don’t use your phone for anything. Somebody will give you a phone to use. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. I’ll wait here while you get me your mother’s address. Why don’t I meet the dog while I’m waiting?”

“Sure,” Charlie replied again and disappeared back into her apartment.

Dorothy Pierce lived in a tenement on 127th Street off Lenox Avenue. The building was old, the hallway was dirty and dingy, and the neighborhood was nothing to write home about. Dorothy’s three-bedroom apartment was contrastingly neat, nicely decorated, and very clean. It reminded Jack-who had arrived there with Henry on Saturday evening-of Frankie O’Connor’s old place on Ninety-sixth and Lexington.

Dorothy’s children were all grown, but her sixteen-year-old grandson William was living with her. So Jack and Henry had to share a room.

Their bedroom was narrow; the two single beds barely fit side by side with a little space between them. There was a dresser with four drawers, which gave them two drawers apiece. Jack had to hang his suits up in the hall closet. Any room became small when Henry walked into it. This particular one felt like a closet to Jack.

“You and I are getting too close,” he said to Henry that first night as they tried to work their way around each other and get into bed.

“All I’ve got to say is, you better not snore,” Henry shot back.

When they first arrived at Dorothy’s, there was a young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties standing outside the building. He seemed to be guarding the place. He stood on the stoop mostly and walked up the stairs every fifteen minutes or so. Dorothy’s apartment was on the second floor. Another young man was inside the apartment. Henry had simply introduced him as George. He was watching television when Henry and Jack went to bed.

“You’re not going to try and convince me that those two guys are just kids living in the building looking for a little extra money, are you?” Jack asked Henry when they were in their respective beds with the light turned out.

“Why not?”

“Because I can tell they’re both packing. I didn’t see the guns but I know they’re there.”

“Jack, you’re on a need-to-know basis.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’m not going to tell you everything unless you need to know it.”

“It seems like you have an army up here, Henry. And I thought you lived in Florida.”

“My cousin Jermaine, Dorothy’s son, is a businessman. He loaned me a few of his employees.”

“Are some of his employees the ones who are escorting Charlie to Virginia?”

“As a matter of fact, they are.”

“That’s at least four people. You don’t know Jermaine that well. I’m sure he’s not doing this for free.”

“Maybe not. That’s my business, Jack. Remember, I’m the one who got you into this case. I want to make sure I get you and Charlie out in one piece.”

“We want to do things the right way though, Henry.”

“Is that right? Are the people on the other side-the law-and-order side, the side of justice in your eyes-are they doing things the right way? Jack, you do what you do best and leave the rest to me. Trust me. I’m going to stay on the right side of things.”

Aunt Dorothy gave Jack some more advice at breakfast the next morning. William was sitting at the table with Henry and Jack. Dorothy was at the stove making pancakes.

“You’re all right during the day. There are enough white folks up here now it’s not too unusual. You don’t wanna be white and walkin’ around here late at night alone, though.” Henry and William both laughed at Dorothy’s bluntness.

“I’m not kidding and you both know it. William, you’d better get off to school.”

“Yes ma’am.” William finished off the last of his pancakes before standing up, grabbing his backpack, kissing his grandmother, and heading out the door. “Good-bye, Uncle Henry. Good-bye, Jack.”

“See you, William. Have a good day,” Henry answered. Jack just waved. His mouth was full.

After William left, Henry handed Jack a cell phone and a piece of paper with a telephone number written on it. “Use this phone,” he told him. “If Charlie needs you she’s going to call on this phone. If you’re downtown late and I’m not with you, call and let somebody know when you’re on your way home. Don’t take the subway-take a cab right to the door. This neighborhood can be dangerous for you for a lot of reasons. And by the way, Charlie has arrived in Virginia safe and sound.”

On Sunday evening, Jack and Henry met Sam Mendelsohn at a warehouse just off Fulton Street in downtown Manhattan. The warehouse manager, a man named Hector Fuentes, was also there. They were standing by a large truck that was open in the back and stacked full of boxes. Henry was walking around checking the place out while Jack was being introduced to Hector; Henry wasn’t one for meeting people. He became very attentive, however, when Hector started describing the logistics of the transfer.

“You sign the documents over right now to Mr. Tobin,” he told Sam Mendelsohn. “And Mr. Tobin, you be here tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. Ask for me, nobody else but me. Bring the documents and a truck and your people, and I’ll arrange everything. It will go very smoothly, I assure you.”

While they were shaking hands and pretending they actually liked each other, Henry wandered over to the black security guard and struck up a conversation. Ten minutes later, Jack called him to let him know they were leaving.

“This is a setup,” Jack told him when they were on the FDR Drive and headed to Harlem.

“How do you figure that?” Henry asked.

“Come on, Henry-this isn’t a business transaction, it’s a document production. We don’t need bills of lading to transfer this stuff. And this guy Hector has to be present at every step of the way? They want to know exactly when this truck is leaving the warehouse, and Hector is the man who’s going to give them that information.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Henry asked.

“I still have no idea,” Jack replied. “We’ve got to figure out a way to get those documents to Virginia without anybody knowing about it.”

“Jack, you’re actually starting to think like a criminal.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

“It is when you’re dealing with crooks.”

The next morning at nine sharp they were back at the warehouse. Jack had the transfer documents Sam Mendelsohn had given him and was waiting to present them to Hector Fuentes, who had to be paged. Their own truck was not there yet. Jack looked a little concerned, but Henry informed him that it was still in Harlem waiting for his call to come to the warehouse.

Hector Fuentes made them wait for ten more minutes just to let them know how important he was. Finally he showed up, accepted the documents from Jack, and once again led the way to the truck containing the records.