As the Liquor Flows Read online

  “What can I help you with, Miss?”

  “I’m here to visit someone.”

  “Your name?”

  “Evelyn Ford.”

  “And who do you wish to visit?”

  “My brother, Frank Ford.”

  He glowered at me as he yanked a ledger from one of the desk drawers and slowly flipped through the pages.

  “Do you know when they brought him in?”

  “I believe several days ago.”

  “Do you know the charges?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He continued to flip through the pages until he reached the last one. Chicken scratch handwriting bled through the lines with names scribbled in different fonts and different shades of gray pencil lead.

  Name by name, his finger traced the page until he found Frank’s name and cell number.

  “You got any weapons on you today, Miss Ford?”

  My head jerked back in shock. “No.”

  His eyes slit with suspicion. Had I answered too quickly? Had my tone been too shady, as though I hid an evil plot or sneak in a weapon past him?

  Nervousness weakened through my knees. My pulse thumped loudly in my ears.

  Surely, I shouldn’t feel worried. I didn’t have a weapon and wasn’t trying to help Frank escape. Surely, I should be as calm as a breezeless afternoon, and yet, with all those notions, calm was about the last thing I felt in this moment.

  Hesitantly, the guard rose to his feet and glanced at me over his shoulder as he strode away.

  “Follow me, please.”

  I trailed behind him down a short hallway lined with several closed doors on one side and windows on the other. At the end of the hallway, the guard unlocked and opened one of the doors, and we stepped into the vast sea of prison cells filled with men.

  The stench of sweat and human waste burned my nose, so awful that I almost wretched. My eyes watered and my gloved hand trembled as I covered my nose and mouth.

  “Follow me,” the guard repeated.

  Half of the room opened into a long pathway spanning the length of the prison building. Cells lined either side, stacked along all three floors with small catwalks that met in the corners of the room and combined into two sets of stairs.

  Windowless, except for the skylights in the ceiling, the only other light came from the single bulbs hanging in each pen.

  The whole room glowed in a strange orange color that reflected on anything shiny like the crated drain holes in the floor or the occasional gold and silver teeth in the mouths of the criminals.

  I tiptoed after the guard down the middle of the pathway and up the stairs to the second floor.

  A few men whistled as I passed. The bird-like sounds echoed throughout the rows of cells and caused even more men to meander toward us to investigate the commotion.

  “Would you look at the gams on that kitten?” one of them said.

  “Why don’t you hike up that skirt and stick them through these bars. I’ll give you the ride of your life,” another laughed. His lips puckered as he kissed the air in my direction a few times.

  “You’ll have to wait your turn, Sparky.”

  Several of the men within earshot erupted in laughter while I stared at the floor and continued after the guard.

  “Hey baby doll, why don’t you come over here? I promise not to bite.” With his words, another criminal reached out and grabbed the sleeve of my dress.

  My shrill scream echoed through the building. I yanked myself free, just as the guard welded his wooden baton and whacked the man’s arm with a hard crack. The man collapsed to his knees, howling in pain.

  “If any of you other goons or hop heads got any ideas of grabbing this lady again and you will get a worse punishment than just a bruised up arm. Do you understand me?” The boom in the guard’s voice made every man cower and recoil as we continued and the once exuberant catcalls muffled into incoherent noises.

  Halfway down the catwalk, the guard halted.

  “Ford.” He called out.

  A figure sat up on the lower bunk, only visible by his frame from the light of the bulb that flickered with age.

  “Your sister is here to see you.”

  Frank slid out from the bed, rose to his feet, and stepped forward slowly as though he didn’t believe what the guard told him. Of course, how could he? He didn’t know I knew where he was or what he had done.

  Surely, to him, I just believed he’d vanished without a single word like a brother who deserted his sister so he could live a better life, or worse, because a stranger left him for dead in a back alley.

  As he approached, all the anger I suppressed from speaking to Max bubbled through my blood. With my life changed and my innocence at risk, all the fear and confusion pounded down upon my shoulders and left me grasping for my old life back.

  All of this was his fault.

  His stupidity had left me in the horrible situation I now faced.

  He’s still your brother.

  “You only have a few minutes.” The guard marched off, leaving me standing on the catwalk alone. In a last ditch effort to claim authority, he stuck out his baton and whacked every bar as he strode toward the stairs.

  “Evelyn?” Frank asked as we both stepped up toward the bars. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I had a visitor yesterday who told me where you were.”

  “Who?”

  “Who do you think, Frank?”

  He placed both hands on the top of his head and spun around in a circle. “Mr. Giovanni.”

  “Yes, Mr. Giovanni and Mr. Catalano and a man named Dom.”

  Frank froze with his back toward me and stood there for a few seconds before he spun around to face me. “What did he say to you?”

  “What did you get yourself into, Frank?”

  “I just wanted to make some money for an apartment and food.”

  “By committing a crime and getting locked up?”

  “Well, what was I supposed to do? We weren’t exactly doing so great, Eve.”

  “And we aren’t exactly doing any better with you in here.”

  He groaned with my words. An obvious truth he knew he couldn’t refute.

  “So what did you get arrested for?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “You can’t tell me?” I laughed. “You can’t tell me?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’m only living in Mr. Giovanni’s home with him, a stranger whom I’ve never met and have no idea as to how you were involved with, and now you’re telling me you can’t tell me why?”

  “You’re what?” His hands grabbed two of the bars, gripping them so tight his knuckles whitened.

  “Well, apparently, you owe Mr. Giovanni quite a lot of money. Say to the tune of fifty thousand dollars and he wants it. Am I just supposed to yank it from my brassiere? Or, perhaps, I should dig it up from the dirt floor of our rundown hovel?”

  “Damn. I was hoping not to get you involved.” Still holding onto the bars, he hung his head. His eyes shifted to the ground and he heaved a deep sigh. “You can’t get mixed up with Mr. Giovanni, Eve. You just can’t.”

  “Well, I’m afraid you’ve kind of forced my hand on that.” I leaned in, my voice barely a whisper. “Now what did you get us into?”

  “He’s a Kingpin, a very powerful Kingpin.”

  “A Kingpin? What does that mean?”

  Frank’s eyes met mine and he chewed on his bottom lip. “A Kingpin, you know as in the boss of bosses over all the mafia families in Manhattan. They deal in gambling, heroine, prostitution, and running hooch.”

  My eyes blinked as each of his words resonated in my mind.

  Headlines about mafia related crimes in New York had splashed across the newspapers for years.

  Each story dominated with pictures of men shot in the middle of daylight while they finished a meal, walked down the street, or drove in their automobiles. Their bodies discovered after the gruesome deaths with blood splattered w
alls, sidewalks, or the interior dashboard and seats.

  “And you couldn’t find anything else to do for work?”

  “Do you know how much money I could have made us? Those guys are packing thousands every week, heck even every day.”

  “Yeah and where is that money, now? Darn it, Frank, do you know what the last week has been like for me?”

  “Oh and you think I’ve been living up the good life in here?”

  I flung myself at the bars and pressed my face in between the iron. “It’s nothing like wondering if and when you’re going to be forced into someone’s bed without your consent.”

  He released the bars. His arms fell to his side as he hung his head once more. Gutted anguish flickered in his eyes with the reality of my words. “Has he hurt you?”

  “No, not yet. He’s actually been quite kind, for now, at least.”

  “Maybe he’ll send you on rackets.”

  “What is that? What are rackets?”

  “You know, running hooch all around the city.”

  -“Highly unlikely.”

  “Well, maybe. I mean, you don’t know until you ask. You should ask him.”

  “Mr. Giovanni moved me into his house and bought me a whole new wardrobe of expensive clothes. What could he possibly expect in return for such lavish gifts, Frank? Huh? You believe he wishes me to run all over the city in a hundred dollar dress?”

  Defeat hunched in his shoulders and he rested his hands on his hips. “I’m so sorry, Eve. I know that those words aren’t much, but I’m so sorry.”

  The guard’s footsteps echoed behind me.

  I only had minutes left. I needed to let go of my anger. Frank didn’t need a lecture or my bitterness. He needed me to understand.

  “Do you have a lawyer or do you know if you’re getting out soon?”

  Frank shook his head. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, I can and see if I can do anything from the outside. See if Mr. Giovanni can post bail, or perhaps, loan me the money.”

  “You think he’s going to want to do me any favors? Not to mention, if you’re working for him, he’s not going to let you help me.”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t think coppers can’t put two and two together? They see us together then they see you with him. They’ll be knocking on his door faster than you can say my name.”

  “Then we’ll both be free to go.”

  “Eve, I’m being watched in here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s got eyes and connections everywhere. Don’t you get it? If I make one mistake in giving him away or if he decides he’s angry enough with me, I’m a dead man. I’ll be shanked the first chance they get.”

  “Perhaps I can talk to him.”

  “Look, don’t concern yourself with me, okay? You just watch out for you and keep yourself safe. Don’t get too involved in his business. You don’t want to know too much or you’ll become a liability.”

  “Time’s up, Miss Ford,” the guard beckoned.

  I shot him a fleeting glance then met Frank’s gaze. “I’ll come back when I can and try to keep you informed of what’s happening with your case.”

  Frank reached through the bars and grabbed the sleeve of my dress. “Eve, don’t trust Mr. Giovanni.”

  “I think I’ve already figured that out for myself.”

  “Yes, but do trust Mr. Catalano.”

  “Mr. Catalano? Why on earth should I trust Mr. Catalano? He’s the reason you were arrested and locked up.”

  Frank shook his head. “It wasn’t his fault. He did right by doing his job. You can trust him.”

  “Miss Ford,” the guard called out. “Time’s up.”

  Frank released my dress. “Trust him, Eve.”

  EIGHT

  “MAY I INQUIRE as to my brother’s case?” My shoes clicked on the tiled floor as I followed the guard down the hallway toward his desk and the front door.

  He said nothing. His lumbered, heavy footsteps thumped as he rested one hand on the wooden baton holstered in his waist belt.

  “Excuse me, sir? May I—”

  “I’m just a prison guard, ma’am. If you want to know about your brother’s case, you need to go down to the police station and talk to the detective who arrested him. He can give you the information and get you in contact with his appointed attorney.”

  My heart sank. “Very well, then. Thank you for your time.”

  The sun blinded me as I stepped outside. Not even the fresh air of the early spring evening could hide the stench of the prison stuck to my clothes and hair. My mind was nothing but a mess of confusion, anger, and heartbreak.

  Max glanced up from his leaned stance against the side of the automobile and he flicked his cigarette on the ground. His eyebrows furrowed together, not in anger, but in a look of concern.

  My eyes misted with tears as I approached him.

  He raised one arm as if to reach out to console me, but hesitated and instead ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Did you see Frank?” He forced a deepened and gruffer tone as if he wanted to mask his gentleness.

  “Yes.”

  “How is he doing?”

  “As good as can be expected.”

  I watched another automobile driving down the street away from us. The driver’s destination unknown, and yet, I wished for nothing more than to be riding in the back seat as the tires bounced and rolled down the bumpy road.

  For a brief moment, the thought of escaping to a far off city played off as a dream I desperately desired to come true.

  “We should probably get you back to the house now.”

  “All right.”

  Max reached for the door handle, opening it enough for me to slide onto the soft leather cushion seat.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Although it seemed that words sat on the tip of his tongue, he didn’t speak. His thoughts unknown to me as mine had been to him, unreadable, and yet, I sensed a notion of kindness and remorseful guilt. As he tried to shut the door, I stuck out my hand and stopped it.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  My apology resonated through his shoulders, relaxing him. His lips curved into a slight grin, but only for a moment before he gave a slight nod and shut the door.

  The silent softness behind his movement spoke more than words could, an understanding in my request for forgiveness. He strolled around to the driver side before he opened the door and climbed into the seat.

  “Is there anywhere else you need to go before I take you back to Vinny’s house?”

  “No.”

  I caught his gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

  He turned the key and the engine rumbled through the steel under my seat. It vibrated through my muscles and rattled through my nerves.

  I rested my arm on the window frame and watched the prison vanish from sight. My fingers traced along my jaw line while Frank’s words repeated inside my head. The man he told me to trust sat just a few feet from me, and yet, Max proved nothing more than a stranger to me as I cradled my chin in the palm of my hand.

  What did Frank know about him? Did he know Frank would tell me to trust him? And could I let my guard down enough to believe my brother? So many questions swirled around my head that only Max could answer.

  However, could I trust him enough to ask him what I wanted?

  Max continued driving through the streets of downtown, past the industrial warehouses, businesses, and finally the apartment buildings, until we reached the edge of town.

  Houses changed in size and land, from the rundown one-bedroom cottages to the mansions that surrounded Vincent’s property.

  Couples strolled along the sidewalks, either walking dogs or pushing baby carriages. Their smiling faces greeted each other with handshakes and conversation, probably about some mundane topic such as the beautiful weather, last night’s storm, or their upcoming Easter holiday plans. They blurr
ed past the window as we drove by them and their uncomplicated lives.

  So different from the suffering downtown, the two worlds clashed with one another.

  What did they do for a living that no one else could do? What did they know that no one else knew? Why had they not had to bear the heartache and stress that everyone else did?

  Street after street we continued toward the house until Max finally drove up the ostentatious drive. The orange and red colored sunset flecked through the trees against the white house as the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze.

  Max shut off the engine, but didn’t reach for the door handle. Instead, he fiddled with his tie, until finally his curiosity got the better of him.

  “Did you get to speak to Frank for very long?”

  I looked up as he glanced over his shoulder. Our eyes locked.

  “They only allowed me a few minutes. The prison guard said to see the detective who arrested him for information regarding his case and his lawyer. I’d like to do that as soon as possible.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Vinny won’t allow it.”

  “Mr. Giovanni won’t allow it?” My tone oozed condescension. “What do you mean he’s not going to allow it? I have to find Frank a lawyer before the trial.”

  “You can’t do that either. In fact, we shouldn’t even tell Vinny that you visited Frank today.”

  “Do you mean we have to lie to him?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  “If visiting him was wrong, then why did you even take me?”

  “Because you deserved to see your brother and talk to him at least this once.”

  “But I don’t deserve to help him, to find him a lawyer, or help him through his trial?”

  “There is no way Vinny’s going to let you near that jail house, the police station, or Frank’s arresting officer.”

  “Why? Is it because he thinks the detective will assume I’m running hooch, too?”

  Max’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

  “Did you really believe I wouldn’t find out?”

  His fists pounded down on the steering wheel. “Damn it, Frank. I knew he’d tell you. What else did he tell you?”