| General Fiction posted January 10, 2025 | Chapters: |
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Sure would like to get outta Dodge
A chapter in the book Ben Paul Persons
Ben Paul Persons, chapter 16
by Wayne Fowler
In the last part Ben Paul and Sylvia attempt to learn who robbed the bank and to clear Ben Paul’s name, allowing them to continue home.
Chapter 16
“Just as you’d guessed,” Sylvia said. “801 S. C is an apartment building.”
“On to the Weisenharts. Who’s closest?”
“Probably John. Good thinking about getting a city map from the motel office. Turn left at the light,” Sylvia directed.
“Could be it. Fine enough home to be a bank manager. But what’s that old ’54 Chevy doing parked around back. You would almost think they were trying to hide it.”
“Maybe restore it? You know like for a car show?”
“No one restores ’54 Chevys. ’55, ‘56, ’57 I’ll give you. But not ’54. And no bank manager would own one.”
“I have to move,” Ben Paul said. “A trash truck is coming.”
Before his words were out, Sylvia jumped from Tank to unlid the galvanized can. Reaching in, she extracted two plastic trash bags and quickly slung them into the back seat. “Go!” she yelled.
Ben Paul did.
“Not to the motel,” Sylvia said.
Ben Paul was already headed out of town at a speed that would not get them pulled over but hurry their departure.
After opening the trash bags, Sylvia commented, “How stupid could they be? Two bandanas of the same color as the robbers.”
“And the cloth money sack.”
“They must have liked the gloves and leather jackets,” Sylvia added.
“And they still need the canvas satchel.”
“Now what?” Sylvia asked. “Is this enough to take to the police?”
“Afraid it doesn’t disprove my involvement,” Ben Paul replied.
“I wish we had Wiesenhart’s phone records.”
“You don’t suppose the robbers are actually in Weisenhart’s house, do you? I mean, why else would the car be there? Maybe they’re holding the wife hostage until they can get away free? Maybe they’re hurting her.”
Sylvia understood Ben Paul to mean in a sexual context, and shuddered. After a moment she replied, “But that doesn’t explain Missy Pucker-face.”
Ben Paul furrowed his brow. “First, we need to get our fingerprints off these trash bags, and then get them safely back into Weisenharts’ can… now that the collection truck is gone.”
“Then?” Sylvia asked.
“Neighbors might know something. We have to get more.”
“Sure wish we could get their phone records,” Sylvia repeated.
+++
“Hello, I’m Benjamin Persons. Do you have a minute?”
“What can I do ya for?” the rotund man in sweats asked, a rosy, alcohol shine on his cheeks.
“Well, my wife and I are considering building a house in the neighborhood, but we’ve had previous unpleasantness within neighborhoods. We’d like to know if folks in the area would be receptive to forming a homeowner’s association.”
Ben Paul quickly added before the subject became too broad. “It would deal with junk cars parked in the yard, like that old Chevy across the street.”
“I noticed that myself. Surprised a banker would even have it. Showed up yesterd’y. But the wife, now, she wouldn’t take kindly to somebody countin’ ‘er chickens. Loves ‘em bug eatin’ birds. Makes the yolk orange, know what I mean? “You ain’t really from the Assessor’s Office are ya? Here to see my add-on?”
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been a big help.”
“What now?” Sylvia asked after they’d driven away from the neighborhood.
“The Salvation Army.”
“You’re going to call out the troops?” Sylvia chided.
Ben Paul smiled. “No, I need black clothes.”
“You’re not going to be a cat burglar!”
“I was thinking more Zorro,” Ben replied, smiling. “No, but we need to get the trash back in the can. And we need the tag numbers on that car.”
Sylvia thought a minute. “Drive us back to the Weisenhart’s. No one knows me. I’ll knock like I’m selling Amway. Just to see if they have a dog,”
It made sense to Ben Paul and he said as much as he circled a block. “Maybe you can get a feel for whether the wife is being held hostage. But don’t you need samples, or something?”
“If asked, I’ll just say my case is in the car and it’s too heavy to just lug around for nothing. It’s lame, but so what?”
Ben Paul liked her attitude and said as much.
“No dog,” she reported after her recon. “And the woman who acknowledged being Mrs. Weisenhart seemed natural enough. I didn’t pick up on anything.”
Ben Paul nodded.
+++
“It’s an Illinois tag.” Ben Paul handed Sylvia the note where he’d copied the registration information.
“Where’s you get this?
“On the steering column. Most cars had it there up until the 60s. I tried the glove box, but it was stuck and I didn’t want to make that much noise. The door was bad enough.”
“No lights came on?” Sylvia asked.
“No, but I left the car door open. I’d turned off the dome light.”
Sylvia read the name on Ben Paul’s note. It was meaningless to her.
“It’s a long shot, but I need to call Chicago,” Ben Paul said.
“The owner of the car?” Anxiety was obvious in Sylvia’s voice.
“No, Angelo’s son, or nephew. If Angelo had a son, he’d probably be a cop.”
+++
“Who are you asking for?” the officer answering the phone asked.
“Officer Caruso,” Ben Paul said, knowing how much of a long shot it was.
“Let me get you Personnel. Wait a minute. The only Caruso I knew was a sergeant and he retired a year, or so back.”
“Is there anyone around who might know him? It’s important.”
“Lemme get you to his precinct. Ask for Detective Muskovitch. He’s old enough to know him.”
“3-1-2-5-5-5-6-6-7-1. Got it. And thank you very much. Ben Persons. Yes, that’s right.” After a moment of listening, Ben Paul said, “No, no sir. That was my father. Thank you, sir. He’s been gone a long time, but I’ll tell him when I see him in the hereafter. Thank you.”
“What was that all about?” Sylvia asked. “That man knew your father?”
“No, but his reputation lives. It’s like he’s a saving-saint among the hooker crowd. When a lady gets rescued, she’s been Personned. Get it? Ben Personned.”
Sylvia laughed. Grasping Ben Paul’s hand, her expression said it all.
“Hello, Detective Muskovitch?”
“Yeah. Who wants ta know?” The tone was not friendly.
Leading with his ace, Ben Paul threw it out. “I knew The Blade, Angelo Caruso.” Ben Paul’s wait seemed interminable.
“Yeah. So did a lotta people. What’s that got to do with me?”
Ben Paul told him his name and story, and that he needed a friendly officer to help clear him of the bank robbery.
“Ben Persons, huh? Well, you ain’t gettin’ Caruso’s number… ‘cause he’s dead, buried over ta Mt. Carmel Cemetery. They claim he ate a bullet, but I don’t think so. Door knob was wiped clean. Who does that, wipe off the doorknob then off himself?”
“Nobody, that’s who.” Ben Paul played back.
“What’s the name you got?”
When Ben Paul told him, Muskovitch responded immediately. “He’s a moke! Tied to the mob. A nobody, but tied. Got warrants up here. We haven’t been able to find him. Tie him to a tree an’ we’ll come down an’ get ‘im.”
“Will do, Sergeant. And thank you. And oh, by the way, Angelo was not a suicide. I knew him. He had daughters. He was planning on retiring. The number 1290 on his grave stone is a train number. Bad cops would have blamed the Mob.
“I think Angelo was sure that any clue he left in the house would be destroyed, maybe burned down. He put it on the stone that he probably preordered.”
“And no one wipes the doorknob before offing hisself,” Muskovitch repeated.
+++
“So now what?” Sylvia asked after hearing the details of the call.
photo courtesy Linda James, pexels
Amway - a pyramid system of door-to-door soap product sales
Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Tony Bertelli: protege' of Ben persons (Sr)
Angelo, La Lama, Caruso: Chicago friend of Ben Sr., Police lieutenant
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Amway - a pyramid system of door-to-door soap product sales
Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Tony Bertelli: protege' of Ben persons (Sr)
Angelo, La Lama, Caruso: Chicago friend of Ben Sr., Police lieutenant
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