Mary Jenkins - Innocent in Chicago Volume Two

"I'd never do that," she said, shocked at the thought that he would say such a thing.

"You may not have a choice, sweetheart. That's what I'm trying to tell you. The cops already have had their eye on Frankie for narcotics, you know that, so they'll get him one way or the other if this whole thing comes to a head. They can put a lot of pressure on a girl like you to get you to talk. So all I'm saying, is… be careful."

She kept her eyes down toward the floor of the car and said, "It doesn't look like I've got much of a chance, do I?"

"Well, just thought I'd warn you. Try not to let it prey on your mind and maybe this whole stinking mess will blow over. How 'bout a drink? I think you could use one."

She nodded and he pulled off onto a side street and toward a bar that she had been to several times before with Frankie.

They went to a booth in the back of the bar and sat down. The place was crowded, even though it was still early in the day.

"I brought you here for a reason," Al said. "A lot of the Evening Star reporters hang out in here and if Flanagan comes in I want you to know what he looks like so you can watch out for him."

He ordered martinis for both of them and she sat back and tried to relax. The day had started out so nicely, so beautifully, and now everything was falling apart right in front of her.

She sipped her drink, letting the sting of the alcohol warm her stomach, hoping that it would calm her quivering nerves. She knew that the police could exert pressure on people, but she had never thought that it would affect her. She couldn't believe that it could happen to her, where had she gone wrong? She wanted to call Harris and ask him what he would do, but she knew that even this was risky now as they may have wire-tapped his line. She didn't want to worry Frankie with this additional problem, but she wasn't sure that she could carry the burden all by herself. She would have to figure out something – something that she could do all by herself.

She finished her drink and Al ordered another round from the waiter. When the waiter returned with their order he told Al that there was a gentleman at the bar who wanted to see him. He strained his neck and looked toward the bar and saw Joe Flanagan!

"Well, well," he said, "looks like we're in luck. Flanagan's at the bar!"

He pointed to a young man wearing a wrinkled trench coat and carrying an expensive looking attache case.

"That, my dear girl, is Flanagan. Your wolf in sheep's clothing. Will you excuse me for a moment while I see what the dear boy wants. He doesn't know that I've been tipping you off, so maybe he'll have something of interest to tell me. Be right back. Order another drink if you want one before I return."

He patted her hand and winked at her and moved down the crowded bar to where Flanagan was standing.

"Afternoon, Joe," he said cheerily, "what brings you into a saloon so early in the day?"

"Not much, Al. I saw your car outside, so I thought that you were probably in here and I've got to ask your advice on something. Do you have a spare minute, it's really very important?"

"Sure, always glad to help a struggling young reporter," he answered, hoping that he had not seen Cynthia with him.

Flanagan looked peaked and troubled and his voice was shaking as he repeated his story to Al.

"I got this phone call the other day warning me to lay off of Harris or I'd be wearing cement shoes and dumped in the lake. I know this guy Harris can play rough, but I don't think he's so stupid as to have me wiped out, especially when he knows that my story will be printed, as is, if anything happens to me." His words came out sure enough, but it was obvious that he was just trying to convince himself and was looking for some reassurance.

"What do you think," he continued. "You've been in this game. Were you ever threatened?"

"Well, I never was very big on exposes, Joe, but it would seem to me that you're getting too close to Harris for comfort if he would threaten you like that."

"That's what I thought and I don't want to give up on this story. It will be the biggest break of my life if things go right and I can follow it through."

"I'm not trying to scare you, Joe," Al said, "but Harris owns a lot of this town, both inside and outside the law and there is no question that you're playing with fire, but from a newspaper standpoint, I think it would be a shame to quit. Have anything new on the case?" He hoped that he didn't sound too inquisitive or too anxious to get information, but Joe seemed eager to talk so he thought he'd take his best shot.

"There have been a few new developments actually. It seems that Frankie Mahoney, a young punk around town has been pretty tight with Harris, supplying him with girls, dope, the whole shot, and if we can get him first I think we'll have a better chance at Harris." Al listened intently, hoping that Joe would go into more detail so that he could be of more help to Cynthia.

"What do you plan to do with him," Al asked. "I've seen Mahoney around, but know him only slightly and it seems that he runs a pretty tight ship."

"It won't be easy, but Mahoney's girlfriend is Harris' shack-up and favorite pastime, so we hope that we can nail him that way. It's just a shot in the dark, but that's the way we plan on working it."

Al was afraid that this is what they would have in mind, but he tried not to let his concern show on his face as he excused himself.

"Good luck, Joe. I hope I was some help, but it's your neck, so do what you think best."

"Yeah, thanks a lot… for listening anyway, I guess you're right. I'll keep you posted," he replied.

Al walked back to the table and sat down.

"Well, what's the verdict," Cynthia asked. "You don't look so happy. What did you find out?"

"It doesn't look good, I've got to tell you that. They plan on getting to Frankie through you and through Frankie to Harris. Looks as though they'll be hounding you first, so be on the lookout."

"Well… that's charming. Now I'll be afraid to walk outside without the fear of someone stopping me and taking me right in. Can they do that?" she asked hesitantly.

"Technically, they can bold you on suspicion of anything at all without proof for seventy-two hours, and in that time they can get pretty persuasive."

"You're so encouraging, Al," she said, trying to laugh, but her insides were churning from fright.

"Well, sweetheart, try to forget it for the time being. I don't think it's something that they're going to do right away. They've got to have pretty strong evidence before they make a move like that. Just play it cool and ride with the punches."

"Well, in that case I think I'll have another drink. Okay?" she said.

"Sure, anything you want," he answered and motioned for the waiter to bring another round.

She finished her third martini and was beginning to feel a little more relaxed. The alcohol was dulling the realization that she could be in some serious trouble, and at least this would take her mind off the problem for the moment.

"Are you going to be all right if I leave you here," Al asked. "I don't think we'd better be seen talking together in view of what Joe just told me. If he sees us I doubt that I will get any more information from him and it could make things worse!"

"No… no… that's okay, I'll be just fine. You go ahead, I'm just going to sit here for a moment and finish my last drink and then head for home. I don't think that I'll say anything to Frankie about this just at the moment, it might make him more nervous and he doesn't need anymore problems at the moment."

"I think that that would be wise, sweetheart. Just keep what I've told you to yourself and wait and see what happens. Don't get depressed. If anything happens you can bet that I'll be right there to see what I can do."