One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, Ch 32 by Wayne Fowler |
In the last part Diamond Jim kidnapped Ben from his train and imprisoned him in a basement in the city. Tony dreamed the scene and reported it to Angelo, who accepted the possibility. Angelo knocked and entered his Captain’s office, closing the door behind him. He was about to risk it all. The captain, Richard Costello, looked up, surprise on his face. “Lieutenant.” “Captain, if I could have a minute of your time?” The captain nodded, putting down his pen. “Have you heard anything about a street preacher named Ben Persons?” “Look La Lama.” The captain glared at Angelo. “Yeah, I know all about you. Who do you think had to listen to the Commissioner order you promoted? You think I don’t know it came from Diamond Jim? Diamond Jim wanted you promoted, and guess what? I’ve been watchin’, and I haven’t seen any funny business … yet. But that don’t mean much. Sure, I expected this and that. Expected you to be all of a sudden throwin’ money around like you just got rich. Nothin’. All right. Maybe you’re smart, bankin’ your dough. Maybe you’re just bidin’ your time, waitin’ to pay Diamond Jim back. I don’t know. So what is it. La Lama?” Angelo swallowed hard, and then pinched his eyes into lasers. “What you heard, and what you know is right. Up to where you expected me to be Diamond Jim’s man. I had no hand in my promotion. Ben Persons changed me. I’m not La Lama any more. I went to him, Ben, when I was promoted. He said if I took it, Diamond Jim would think he owned me. If I refused, he would kill me. “Ben, my preacher friend, went to see Diamond Jim. I learned that after. Nobody asked to do nothing. If I was asked, I would come to you, since I believe you are on the up-and-up.” Angelo settled back in his seat. After a moment, the captain said, “Maybe I’ve been a bit hasty. You can understand why. This Ben changed you from La Lama. But Diamond Jim thinks you are still a thug. Preacher Ben goes to Diamond Jim and what? Tells him to lay off you, or something?” Angelo nodded. "Hmmm. You’ve done good work. Worked hard to learn the law. I’ve seen that much. Now, what is it about your preacher? Now.” “I believe he’s been abducted and someone has him here in town.” Angelo did not say that his information came from a twelve-year-old’s dream. The captain drew his hands up to his chin, contemplating. Without saying anything, he got up and strode to his door. Opening it, he yelled for an officer named Dirkowitz, calling him Dirk. No one responded. “Go look up your snitches. I’ll have Dirk here by ten. You meet us at The Tap.” The Tap was a bar owned by a retired cop, frequented by policemen. “There’s no keeping our meeting secret, but at least there we won’t be overheard.” Angelo nodded at Captain Costello with a growing degree of respect. +++ “I don’t know if your preacher friend is captive, or not,” Captain Costello told Angelo and Officer Dirk. “But he chose a rough mission field. He would be safer in Africa preachin’ to a buncha cannibals. Even if we find he’s here, we might not be able to save his hide. He certainly must have known what he was doin’, takin’ those hookers. Who he was makin’ mad. But if you can find where he is, we’ll make a full-scale rescue. Only thing, it’s just the two of you. Don’t involve anyone else, and don’t let your snitches go tell any other cop what you’re up to. It’ll cost that preacher his life.” Costello left Angelo and Dirk to finish their coffee and get acquainted. “The lowest rookie makes lieutenant in less than a month!” Dirk looked at Angelo for the story. Angelo told it to him from the start, from La Lama trying to gut Ben Persons. Dirk nodded through the telling. Finished with the story, Dirk extended his hand. “You take a free doughnut when it’s offered, but find an excuse to take a pass on loot. Or other favors without directly offending anybody. Don’t let yourself get cornered. You help protect me; I’ll help protect you.” Angelo offered his hand for another shake. “Who knows,” Dirk said, smiling. “If you live long enough, you have time to make captain and promote me to lieutenant, or at least detective.” Angelo laughed with him. +++ Ben had been left alone for what he considered an hour, at least. His nose quit bleeding and his cheeks stopped burning. He was grateful not to be blindfolded. The large area was dark, but with acclimated eyes, he could see well enough. He was tied to the wooded shaker chair back and legs with simple cotton rope, but tightly enough that he couldn’t wriggle free. +++ It wasn’t much, but having nowhere else to start, Angelo followed up on a tip that Diamond Jim was at a particular gambling site that he owned. That, in and of itself, was not unusual, he often visited various of his enterprises. Angelo felt to go inside and pay it a visit, despite the certainty that Diamond Jim would not take his brand of involvement kindly and would mark him as a problem to be dealt with. Alone, Angelo entered the premises. Gambling was going on, but Angelo, in the civilian suit that he’d changed into after Tony’s visit, presented no threat. He saw Diamond Jim’s tall, barrel-chested enforcer enter a back room. His hand on his revolver, Angelo followed. “So, this is what you choose, is it, La Lama?” Diamond Jim asked. “You think the clothes makes the man? The badge makes the man?” “Who, the Pope? He’s in Rome, last I heard.” The thug laughed. “You gonna pull that pistol, or just play with it?” Jim asked, staring at Angelo’s hand as he slowly reached toward his own. Angelo drew it. “Stop there, Jim. Where is he?” Despite the muffled gambling noises, they all three clearly heard the crashing sound from beneath their feet. In the basement directly below then, Ben stood up and dropped flat onto his back, shattering the chair and raising a distinct knot on the back of his head that he would dearly like to rub. Ben shook himself in an effort to get loose enough to move. The knots still tied, Ben managed to get his arms in front of himself at least. “You just signed your death warrant,” Diamond Jim stated matter-of-factly, oblivious to Ben's escaping below his feet. “Maybe so. Maybe so. But whatever that noise was, we’ll just stay up here a few minutes. I won’t take your guns, but I’ll shoot you both if either of you move toward one.” In the basement, it took quite a bit of doing, but even with his arms bound to sticks that were formerly chair arms, and the chair legs themselves still tied to his own legs, Ben managed to crawl out through the coal chute, scraping and clawing his way. At the top, Ben had to turn himself around in order to kick out the wooden slats that had the opening boarded up. Leaning nearly upside down in the chute, he barely had the force to get them loose. Walking down the alley, he was a veritable clown show, waddling and hopping. Angelo managed to maintain control of the stalemate for a solid twenty minutes, though he didn’t think he could stand another second of Diamond Jim’s rancorous threats. “I’m leaving now,” Angelo finally said. “I don’t want to shoot anybody, but I will if this door opens before I’m out of the building.” Angelo carefully eased out after a quick glance to see whether anyone stood on the outside of the door. In an act of subterfuge, Angelo charged for a back door just as Diamond Jim’s bullets punched through the office door. Outside, had he looked left instead of simply sprinting to the right, he would have seen Ben hobbling down the alley. Ben made it all the way to the street before finding someone willing to untie him. From there, he walked to a horse-drawn bus, eager to be anywhere away from that block. +++ Finally, Ben made it to Pastor Brown at the A.M.E. church. “Whooie! Yes suh. We can hide you. We shore can. Get you a doctor for that nose, too.” Two hours later, well fed, his nose straightened, and a cot set up inside the church proper, Ben found the altar a good, obviously well-used, place to pray. He dared not expose his friends in the old neighborhood to the thuggery that would certainly follow him had he gone that direction. Ben found a soap box and fitted backpack straps. Using a combination of alleys, business back doors, and even rooftops, he managed to relocate his two and three minute sermonettes all over the business district, preaching God’s love. He was fairly certain that God’s hand of protection was over him as he noticed men that were most certainly on Diamond Jim’s payroll looking right through him. The next day he did the same thing. Keeping his route random, Ben foiled every attempt to corral him. He was grateful that Alexander Bell’s invention of a dozen years past had only just begun to be installed in Chicago. He certainly couldn’t outrun telephone wires. Diamond Jim was frantic, panicky in his venomous ire. He had every man he owned in search of Ben. Every contact was under orders to report his whereabouts. As well, every policeman was tasked with his apprehension. Angelo and Dirk, with opposing agenda, determined to get him onto the first train to anywhere. Ben avoided the A.M.E. church the next night but found shelter in Michael Winslow’s Lutheran Church, showing up drenching wet from a sudden cloudburst. Food, clothing, and a few hours’ sleep, and Ben was off again before sunrise, preaching on the move all over the city proper.
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Wayne Fowler
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