A Burning Cold Morning (Part 16)

crocker company lounge chair courtesy wisc.edu

Leo passed the remainder of that Christmas Day sleeping and sitting around in his favorite chair, a lounge from Crocker Company that had come with the place.  It was not a piece of furniture that he would have chosen himself, but it was well made and comfortable.  In the evening he made himself a simple ham sandwich for dinner and then went to sleep for the night.  Rising at six a.m. the next morning, he shuffled down to the restaurant for breakfast.  He was sitting there, just about to get his first sip of coffee, when he noticed that the place had become eerily silent.  The other patrons were all staring past Leo’s table, some of their mouths agape and most of them with slightly worried expressions on their faces.  A ball of nausea formed in Leo’s stomach as he slowly turned his head, expecting to see Shannon’s henchmen behind him.

tom pendergast

Instead, standing just a few steps away, was Tom Pendergast.   He was an imposing figure, stoutly built and with a round face that exuded a quiet confidence along with a kind of aloof warmth.  His eyes appeared large and peered out from beneath thick eyelids, their icy depth a stark contrast to the rest of his soft face.  The moniker of ‘Murdering Teddy Bear’ had been used more than once behind Pendergast’s back and Leo had to admit that it fit the man well.  He stood there, towering over the seated Leo, not saying a word but instead quietly surveying the clientele.  After several more long moments, he took two steps forward and placed his hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“How’s your breakfast?” Pendergast asked, his voice soft but raspy.

Leo’s hands were shaking a little and he grabbed the cup, still held aloft and about a quarter of the way to his mouth, with both hands to steady it.

“Just fine, just, just starting,’ Leo stammered in reply.

“Good, good.”  Pendergast patted Leo again on the shoulder before sitting down across the table from him.  Leo was lost for what to say and a minute or more passed in silence as he nervously sipped coffee while Pendergast peered at him intently.  Eventually Leo composed himself enough to speak.

“Did you like what,”

“Did you sleep well son?” Pendergast interrupted.

“Well, sure, yes, I guess, I did, yes I slept fine.”

“Good.  You deserved to,” Pendergast replied and then he stood up and walked off, back toward the entrance.  Quickly standing up to follow, wanting to hear some praise for his work, Leo took only one step before the large hand of an equally large man stopped him.

“Good work,” the man said and then slapped an envelope into Leo’s hand before finishing with, “now sit down and enjoy your breakfast.”

Ten seconds later the man,  Pendergast and three others who had been arranged near the doorway were gone and the clatter of people eating slowly returned to the restaurant.  As he sank into his seat Leo could feel eyes glancing over at him inquisitively.   Slowly opening the envelope, he found one hundred and fifty dollars inside, which brought a smile to his face.  Obviously, Pendergast had been impressed enough to give him a fifty dollar bonus on the job.  That had to be a good sign.  Spirits buoyed by the encounter, Leo ate a large, leisurely breakfast before retiring back to his room.  Around noon, while he was dozing off in the lounge chair, a hard knock sounded at his door.  Opening it, Leo was greeted by the somber face of Red Godding.

“Lee, you’ve got trouble,” he said, stepping into the room and then closing the door.

“You mean about the Shannon caper, I suppose?”

“Damn right about that.”

“Ya wanna know something?  Tom Pendergast came by this morning and personally thanked me for doing it, came right to my table at breakfast.”

Red replied only with a skeptical look.

“Well, he came to my table anyway, said I deserved a good night’s sleep, that’s the same coming from him I suppose.  And they paid me fifty extra clams so I must have made an impression, huh?”

“Look, I dunno why he would’a come to see you personally, it’s not really his thing.  But maybe he did.  The caper was his idea after all so maybe he thought it would be a good idea to let you know he appreciated it.  But that don’t mean nothin’ now.  You got a mark on your head from Shannon and you better leave town right now if you plan on living much longer.”

Leo blinked a few times in rapid succession, absorbing the idea that someone had actually put a price on his head.  That was frightening but he was not worried.

“Well, Pendergast’s gonna protect me, that’s what I figure.  I mean, I just did him a big favor.  He wouldn’t let anything happen to me after that, so why should I be afraid.”

“Good lord you are a stupid man Lee, a stupid, stupid man.  You don’t mean a thing to that man or anyone in his gang.  Maybe the real reason he came by was just to look at you before you died.  He had to know about that price on your head because Shannon put that mark out Christmas Day.  And maybe that fifty was just a way to say, get the hell out of town boy.”

Now Leo was not feeling so confident.  “Seriously?  They are just going to hang me out like that after what I did?”

“Without even thinking about it for a second,” Red replied.

“Bushwa!”

“Think what you like Lee, but leave here and do it today.”

Leo leaned back in his chair, slowly stroking his chin.  He still did not completely believe that Pendergast would abandon him, especially after coming to see him personally at breakfast.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied.

Red snorted in disgust, got up and walked out the door.

…to be continued

A Burning Cold Morning (Part 15)

The night seemed to become even more frigid as he crouched among those trees, the cold washing quickly over his sweaty skin and forming a strange layer of frosty ice on his face and hands.  The shivers brought on by that quick freeze ricochet all over his body while he kept his eyes focused keenly out toward the road.  A car passed, and several minutes later another, and then fifteen minutes later they both came back, turning this time into the cemetery.  The vehicles patrolled the grounds and twice they stopped, men stepping out with flashlights and sweeping the beams over the dark recesses between the trees.  The searchers and their lights never came closer than fifty feet from Leo though, and his location and that of the Renault remained undiscovered.  After twenty-five minutes of driving around the cemetery the men parked both cars about one hundred feet away from the copse of trees and all got out to smoke cigarettes.  Complaining loudly about the cold, it also became evident that these men were in fact looking for whomever had stolen the Renault.  One large, bushy looking man brandished a shotgun as he explained what needed to be done to the culprit while the others worried about the consequences of returning to “the big boss” with empty hands.  Finally the men climbed back into their vehicles and headed off, splitting up as they exited the cemetery.

Leo had to admit that he was  very afraid at this point, the shotgun and leisurely description of what it was to be used for disquieting him and making his stomach uneasy.  Although he was already incredibly cold and certain he was going to end up with some pretty severe frostbite, Leo resolved to stay in the cemetery until it was time to stage the car on Christmas morning.  Hurrying back to the Renault with a faint hope in his head, he was rewarded when he discovered a blanket shoved under the passenger seat.  It was dark grey and made of heavy wool, large enough to cover him completely and keep him both hidden and warm.  Although he would have preferred the protection from the wind offered by the vehicle, Leo also did not want to be caught sleeping inside of it on the off-chance that these men came back and checked the cemetery again.  Settling down again into the trees, he wrapped himself up, tucked the edges of the blanket under his body and tried to think about being warm.

After about twenty minutes things got better, his body heat and breath trapped by the thick wool and creating a nice little pocket of comfort.  Eventually Leo drifted off a little bit although he was not warm enough to really fall asleep. He was in and out after that and constantly restless; warm and cold, worried and elated, tired and alert.  Five hours of this was all he could take and so, at five thirty a.m. on Christmas morning 1925, Leo stood up, collected his packages and walked back to the Renault.

It was not light yet although the eastern sky had just those first touches of the approaching sun in it, cold yellow hints of light flashing against the clouds.  He was not sure if the men had stopped looking, or if more had joined in as the night went on.  He did not know if the police were maybe involved by now, or if his bell ringer had squealed on him to someone in the Shannon gang.  What Leo did know was that if all of his risk, suffering and fright was going to be worth anything at all to him, he needed to finish the job.  Determined, he drove toward the river.

Luck was with him again as he encountered no one, not even a pedestrian on their way to an early holiday breakfast or a late returning night worker.  He drove all the way to Ninth Street and then turned left toward the railroad tracks.  He did see a few people then, all of them walking with their heads down against the crisp morning breeze.  No one seemed to be paying attention to him though, so Leo stopping hiding his face under a turned up coat lapel and focused instead on the end of his journey which was just six blocks ahead.

original union depot Kansas City

original Union Depot Kansas City

The old Union Train Depot had fallen into some disrepair since it was abandoned in 1914 in favor of the new Union Station on 25th and Grand.  That place had all of the attention these days, with its ninety-five foot ceilings and huge chandeliers.  The old depot though had historical significance to Kansas City and was especially important to the Rabbits.  Some of their businesses, both legal and illegal, were still run out of the broken down building and it was recognized as the gateway to the main Rabbit controlled areas down by the stock yards and freight houses.  It was for that reason it had been chosen by Leo as the place to leave Joe Shannon’s Renault.  Pulling up diagonally across from the Depot, so that the vehicle would block traffic on Lincoln, Bluff and Ninth Street all at the same time, he hopped out and quickly set up his props.

The sign he propped up against the windshield which faced directly into the traffic on Lincoln.  He then draped one of the dead rabbits over the front grill, it’s cold, furry legs reaching toward the silver Renault logo on the hood.  The other he laid on top of the fender of the driver’s side rear wheel, splaying its hind legs open and twisting the head so it seemed to be on backwards.  The sky was getting lighter now and a glance down Ninth confirmed that a few pedestrians were headed this way although it would be awhile before they arrived to view his work.  Taking a quick glance inside the vehicle to ensure he had left nothing behind, Leo allowed himself both a  smile and small shout of triumph before he strode quickly away down Lincoln.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting at the table of the Savoy’s restaurant and ordering Christmas breakfast.  As he ate that meal and then sat around reading the newspaper he did not quite comprehend the serious nature of his caper.  He saw it mostly as a prank meant to rub a little bit of dirt in the Rabbit’s eyes and embarrass their leader.  Pendergast knew in advance that it would be taken much more seriously than that by Shannon, which is exactly what happened.  As Leo relaxed and sipped coffee, an enraged Shannon, who had been forced to miss the annual Christmas breakfast he hosted for his constituents, was already well on his way to figuring out exactly who was responsible for insulting him.