The Girl on the Rush Street Bridge

by Gary Inbinder

Chapter 22: Gunfight on The Potawatomie

part 2

Slim headed up the passageway with Ed, Max and their unfortunate prisoner close behind. Max guessed Ed chose not to return to his cabin for the “friendly chat” because he didn’t want to contaminate his pricey Persian rugs with Schmidt’s blood.

Slim released the crew. Ed took Slim aside to give him orders while Max kept an eye on Schmidt. Then Max and Ed escorted their prisoner into a sparsely furnished cabin. Ed told Schmidt to “make himself comfortable” on a plain wooden chair. Then he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a silver flask. He offered the flask to Schmidt.

“Here, take a snort. It’ll help loosen your tongue.”

Schmidt reached out with a trembling hand, took the flask and swallowed some whiskey. He coughed and stuttered, “Th...thanks, Mr. Mahoney.” Then he handed the flask back to Ed.

Ed turned to Max. “Why don’t you ask the questions?”

Max said, “All right.” He glared at Schmidt. The thug looked back at Max with wide, terrified eyes. Max changed his expression; he smiled and showed his teeth, like a happy cat playing with a mouse. “Now, Harry,” Max said with a cool, calm voice, “I want you to tell us the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but and tell it like your life depended on it... because it does.”

Schmidt crossed himself. “I swear to God, Mr. Niemand. The whole truth and nothin’ but.”

“Good. We know you didn’t come here on your own. Who sent you?”

“Sh... Sharkey. It was Sharkey sent me.”

“Sharkey, huh? Just Sharkey? Don’t he take his orders from someone higher up?”

“I... I don’t know. I mean—”

The back-hand slap came so quickly even Ed was surprised. The force of the blow knocked Schmidt over. He lay on the deck, stunned and bleeding. Max lifted him and placed him back on the chair. Then he pinched his cheeks.

“Wake up, Harry.”

“Huh. What?”

“Harry, this is Max Niemand. I’m asking questions. You’re answering. To refresh your memory, you said Sharkey sent you on this job. Now, Sharkey’s a soldier, like you. I don’t give a rat’s fart about soldiers. I wanna know who gives the orders. And I know you know. Now, if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna hurt you, and I don’t wanna do that. So, I’ll ask again. Who gave the order?”

Schmidt looked down at his hands and said, “Captain Donavan.”

Max glanced at Ed. Ed nodded. Max turned back to Schmidt.

“OK. Captain Donavan. He gave the order for this job. But he takes orders, too. Do you know who from?”

Schmidt looked up at Max. “For this job, I can’t go higher than Donavan. But I know he’s tied to the Davies faction and the Indiana mob.”

“You mean Davies, the reform candidate for mayor?”

Schmidt nodded. “Yes,” he said.

Max smiled. So that’s the connection, he thought. Davies and the Indiana mob. “And what exactly were the orders Sharkey got from Captain Donavan and passed on to you?”

Schmidt hesitated. Beads of sweat poured down his forehead; he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He knew his only chance of survival, and it was slim, was to spill his guts.

“I was supposed to plant a time-bomb in the hold. I snuck on board while the boat was docked. But things got fouled up. The boat was underway before I was able to get off. I disarmed the bomb and hid as best I could. I figured if the boat didn’t go too far out, I could set the bomb, get to the upper deck, jump off and swim for the crib. From there, I could swipe a boat and make it back to shore before The Potawatomie blew. But one of Mr. Mahoney’s guys sniffed me out. So, I shot him. I’m sorry—”

“Spare us,” Ed broke in. “Just tell us what happened.”

“After I shot the guy, I tried to make a break for it. Another guy came down the ladder so I plugged him, too. I climbed up to a passageway and got into a shoot-out. I was down to my last clip when you jumped me.”

“Where’s the bomb?” Max asked.

“In the hold. Don’t worry. It won’t go off. I never got a chance to re-arm it.”

“You’ll show us where it is.”

“Sure, Mr. Niemand.”

There was a knock on the door. Slim entered. Ed walked over, exchanged a few words, then ordered his lieutenant to signal the launch. Slim left, and Ed came back and asked Max to continue the interrogation.

“So, Davies and the Indiana mob wanted to blow up The Potawatomie and maybe knock off Mr. Mahoney and some of his boys in the bargain?”

“Yes, that was the plan.” Schmidt hung his head like a condemned man waiting for the trap to spring.

“How much did they pay you and Sharkey?”

“Five Grand. Twenty-five hundred up front, the rest on completion.”

“Where’s the dough now?”

“In Sharkey’s safe.”

“The Indiana mob has a boat, the Lady of the Lake. I figure they want to eliminate the competition. Is that their play?”

Schmidt nodded. “Yeah... I think so. Sharkey knows more about it than me.”

“And if Davies wins the election, you and Sharkey will have a nice slice of the pie.”

“That’s what Sharkey said.”

“Names,” Ed asked. “I want names of everyone in Chicago connected to this Indiana outfit.”

“Honest, I don’t know ’em all. Like I said, there’s the Davies faction, the opposition party politicians and a few cops like Donavan who support the candidate. For muscle, they got Milt Ritter and his side-kick, an out-of-town gunsel called Lewis. Some Indiana loogans take orders from Ritter and Lewis, but I don’t know their names. Sharkey knows more.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Ed said. “I know the rest.”

Max glanced at Ed, then turned to Schmidt. “You know anything about the O’Neills? Tim, Bob and Mary O’Neill from South Bend?”

Schmidt grimaced, confused. “O’Neill? No, Mr. Niemand. I don’t know nothin’ about them. Honest, I don’t.”

“I know something,” Ed said. “We’ll talk about them later, Max.”

“Now that I told you everything, you want me to show you the bomb?” Schmidt said this hopefully, thinking that his complete cooperation might earn him the right to live another day.

“Yeah,” Ed said. “Then Slim’ll take you back to the dock in the launch. You’ll lay low till the dust settles, then you’ll work for me. But,” he added with a grim frown, “you’ll be on probation. Don’t mess with me, Harry.”

“Yes, sir!” Schmidt said. “You can count on me. I won’t let you down.”

“That’s swell,” Ed said. Then to Max: “You got any more questions for this guy?”

“Yeah, two questions.” Max said. He turned to Schmidt. “First question: Who killed Peg Rooney?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Niemand. Honest, I don’t. Ask Sharkey. He might know.”

“All right. I will ask Sharkey. Last question: You jackrolled a big Dutchman in the alley behind Sharkey’s. A hick from the sticks. He’s a friend of mine. You took a C-note. I want it back.”

“Oh sure, Mr. Niemand. I’ll take care of it as soon as I get my hands on some dough.”

Max shook his head. “That won’t do. What have you got on you now?”

“Uh, just a few bucks and a watch.”

“Let me see the watch.”

Schmidt reached into his pocket, produced an eighteen-carat gold hunter and handed it to Max.

“This and the Mauser pistol might be worth something. I’ll take ’em.”

“OK, Mr. Niemand. Whatever you say.”

“You said you have a few bucks. I’ll take that, too.”

Schmidt frowned and turned over the bills.

Slim returned. “The launch is ready, boss.”

“Good.” Ed said. “Our friend here is gonna show you where he stashed a bomb. Then you take good care of him, like we discussed.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Slim said with a smile. Then to Schmidt: “Come on, pal. Let’s go find that bomb. Then we’ll catch the launch back to the dock.”

Slim escorted Schmidt out of the cabin. Max gazed after them for a while. Then he pocketed the watch and bills and turned to Ed. “Nice watch. Might be worth a C-note. I guess old Harry won’t need it where he’s going.”

“Oh, really? Where’s that?”

“Hell,” Max replied with a deadpan look.

Ed burst out laughing. He kept laughing until he started coughing and tears rolled down his cheeks. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes with a silk handkerchief. “Max, you’re a card. Of course, you’re right. Slim’s gonna give Harry a long drink of water. I can’t let the little rat live. Not after he tried to blow up me and my boat and iced two of my guys.”

Ed blew his nose and stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. Then he walked over to a table where the bottle of Scotch and two glasses rested on the silver tray. “Let’s have another drink. Then I’ll take you on a tour of the boat. After that, we can work out the angles for taking care of Mr. Davies and his associates.”

Proceed to Chapter 23