“I never would have guessed it,” I said, and we both laughed.
“They say an Irishman never loses his brogue, you know,” McCready said, “and I suppose I would be a good example of that fine old adage. I gather that you started coming in here because of its propinquity to your current dwelling place.”
“Propinquity — now that is quite a word,” I told him, “one that you don’t hear thrown around every day. I am impressed.” Being around Wolfe for so long, I happened to know what the term meant, but I played dumb, which is not difficult for me.
“Aw, we Irish are always showing off our vocabularies,” McCready said, pretending to be embarrassed. “I suppose ’tis part of our tradition as storytellers. Pay me no mind. Back on the subject of your cousin: Have you had any success in your search for him?”
“None whatever. It seems that Ted has vanished just like that,” I replied, snapping my fingers. “And he has always been such a cautious person. I can’t imagine what would have happened to him.”
“It is strange, all right, Art. I will most certainly keep my eyes and ears open. Being behind the bar, where I find myself much of each day, I hear things — sometimes things I am probably not supposed to hear, if you read me.” He rolled his eyes.
“I read you. But anything you happen to hear will be most welcome. Nobody across the street in the Elmont seemed to know my cousin. I find the residents over there to be a very strange bunch.”
“Oh, and how might that be?” McCready asked, eyes wide.
“It seems like the ones who I’ve run into are very private, to the point of secrecy. By nature, I’m a friendly guy and I like to talk to people, but these new neighbors of mine, if I can call them that, don’t want to talk at all.”
“You said that you hail from Ohio, right?” the barkeep asked.
“I did.”
“Well, I have not yet had the pleasure of visiting Ohio, but from what I have learned in my years in this fair land, people who come from areas away from the East Coast tend to be warmer and more open — like yourself, for instance. While New Yorkers, as I have had occasion to learn, are in general a suspicious lot and not given to making friends easily. Perhaps that is what you now are experiencing.”
“Except my impression is that the people living in the Elmont — at least the ones I’ve met — are not New Yorkers. If anything, I would say they are not even native-born Americans.”
“Really? And where do you think they might hail from?”
“I don’t know, because those I’ve encountered in the halls and the stairways try to avoid speaking to me at all, and when they do, it seems like their grasp of English is somewhere between weak and nonexistent.”
“Hmm. ’Tis something of a mystery, Art. Come to mention it, I have run across a fellow in here, maybe even two or three, who might live in the Elmont and who sound like they originated from somewhere in Europe, I am not sure of which countries. It could very well be that they are among those who are called displaced persons and who have earned the right to come to the United States. As I am sure you are aware, conditions in much of Europe continue to be difficult, even this many years after the end of that horrible war.”
“Yes, I know the rebuilding of the countries over there has been slow, and we are taking in thousands who have nowhere else to go because they’ve lost their homes. Who can quarrel with the action that our country has undertaken?”
“Well said. It might also explain why some of your neighbors across the street are so cautious about talking to strangers. You and I can only begin to imagine what all of the displaced persons here have been through.”
“Good point, I will keep that in mind. Well, it’s time for me to get back to my home away from home,” I said, putting money on the bar to cover my drink and a tip.
“I trust that you shall soon get news about your cousin,” McCready said. “As I told you before, I will be alert as to anything concerning him. You said his name was Ted...?”
“Yes, Ted Horstmann. I will likely be back in here.” The owner nodded a good-bye as I walked out of his tavern, taking a quick look through the doorway at the back room, where the card table sat unoccupied. Once outside, I pondered on Liam McCready’s use of the words “did happen to him” in relation to Theodore. Maybe it was simply his normal speech pattern, or perhaps McCready thought he knew what had already occurred, especially given the fate that had befallen another of the bridge players.
Back in apartment 412 at the Elmont, I took off my sports coat and also the shoulder holster, which I had begun wearing, along with my Marley .38. I was on a case some years ago up in the Bronx in which I left my weapon at home, and the lapse nearly cost me my life. I have never again made that mistake.
I wanted to telephone Saul at home, but there was no instrument in Theodore’s room. The apartment house, if it can be so termed, could hardly afford its residents making calls to heaven knows where. I went downstairs and out, walking across the street and down to a Rexall drugstore on the corner, lit brightly like a beacon on the darkened block. The place was deserted except for a couple of teenagers on stools at the soda fountain making eyes at each other and slurping a chocolate milkshake through straws that went into the same Coca-Cola shaped glass. It could have been a frame out of an Andy Hardy film with Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney doing the guzzling and gazing at each other.
If I popped a balloon right behind them, I would not have broken their trance. The only other person in the shop was a white-jacketed soda jerk who pointedly avoided the loving couple as he straightened goods on shelves in an attempt to look busy.
I eased into the phone booth, closed the door, and popped a nickel into the slot, dialing a number I had memorized long ago. Saul answered after a couple of rings.
“Wasn’t sure that I’d get you at home,” I told him.
“As a matter of fact, I just walked in. I have had myself an interesting evening.”
“So have I. Should we compare notes?”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Saul said, “although I would prefer to do it face-to-face. Got any suggestions?”
“If you don’t mind turning right around and going back outside again. There’s a coffee shop about three blocks from what I’m referring to as my temporary residence. It’s at Forty-Ninth and Eighth, far enough from both the Elmont and McCready’s bar that we’d be unlikely to run into anyone from either of those establishments.”
“I know the place, Archie. Give me twenty minutes to get there.”
Chapter 13
In fact, it was eighteen minutes later that Saul came into the shop and spotted me in a booth at the back. “This cloak-and-dagger stuff is pretty exciting, isn’t it?” he said out of the corner of his mouth as he slid in across from me.
“Yeah, a thrill a minute. Which of us gets to play Bogart?”
“That would be you. I’m more the George Raft type.”
“In your dreams. Now tell me about this ‘interesting evening’ you’ve had.”
“As planned, I went to McCready’s on the off chance that one of the bridge players might show up, and damned if one did — Sid, that’s Sid Meyer.”
“I remember him, the retired barber. Seems like he’s a nice fellow.”
“Agreed. He had read about what happened to Chester, but said he came back to the bar because he was curious about the details and thought somebody might know something.”
“Did he get there ahead of you?”
“No, I beat him by about five minutes. And when I stepped into the back room, I got these weird looks from the pool-playing longshoremen, as if I were a leper.”
“Maybe they were hoping they had seen the last of the bridge players in what they consider their private preserve, so you likely were a disappointment,” I said.