The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXVIII

Councilman McCutchen Smith was waiting for me in the Duke’s Club. He was drinking wine and smoking his usual Cuban Cohiba. He waved to me as I crossed the empty lounge to join him.

“What’s eating you?” he said. “Need a drink?”

I shook my head.

“Let me start by saying this: how do you do it?”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I mean, how do you live this double lifestyle: a legitimate front as a well-respected politician and then as a stone cold criminal at the other side? And you seem very comfortable with it.  Not only that, nobody even knew about it.”

“Well,” he grinned. “Let’s just say I’m a genius. I have a question for you too, Harry. Do you believe in stars? I mean, horoscope.”

“Not really,” I said. “But go ahead.”

“I’m a Gemini,” he continued. “Geminis has two personalities in one. I guess that answered your question about how I could maintain two lifestyles very comfortably.”

“Very interesting,” I said.

“Isn’t it?” he muttered. “Now, let’s get down to business. What’s biting you?”

“You said if I scratch your back, you’d scratch mine, right?” I began.

“Sure,” he said.

“Okay, here’s your chance.”

He tilted back his chair and  blew smoke towards the ceiling while listening as I explained about Revkin.

“Reverend Waters told me to put a private investigator to work, digging into his daughter’s background,” I said. “So I hired Revkin. I didn’t know he would did so deep. The bottom line is, he has dug me up.”

 McCutchen Smith looked at me, his face expressionless.

“So what?”

“Well, he is  blackmailing me for five thousand dollars. He said he will hand the information he has collected to the police if I don’t pay.”

“How bad is the information,” McCutchen Smith asked, scratching his jaw with an untrimmed fingernail.

“Not good at all,” I said. “If Lieutenant Ludlum get this information from him, I’m cooked. I haven’t five thousand dollars – nothing like it. If you want me to do this run to Ontario for you, then you must do something fast.”

“Such as what?”

“That’s up to you,” I replied. “I don’t suppose you want to pay him five thousand dollars, do you?”

He threw back his head and gave out a very loud laugh.

“You kidding?” He stood up and hunched his shoulders. “Come on Harry. Let’s go and see this punk. I’m gonna make him stay in line, okay?”

“Are you sure we can do this now, Mr. McCutchen?” I asked. I don’t really want to get mixed up in this. “He’s probably out. Why don’t you go to his office tomorrow? I would like to go with you, but I have to be in Atlantic City tomorrow to attend the inquest.”

He put his big hand on my arm, and his fingers dug into my muscles.

“We will go there now,” he replied. “Revkin will be in – I’m sure of that. Come on, let’s go. This is your mess, but you and me will take care of him together.”

“Take care of him?”

“Just shut the fuck up, Harry,” he said. “And come with me.”

With that said, he led me out of the club, across the sidewalk to where the black Pontiac was parked. We got in, and he sent the car shooting away from the curb.

“His office will be closed,” I said, flinching as councilman McCutchen narrowly missed a couple who were crossing the street.

Councilman McCutchen leaned out of the car window to curse them. He then pulled his head in and gave me a wide, animal grin.

“You amaze me,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“How do you mean,” he said.

“Each time I see you in the papers, you are a respectable politician, with olive oil voice. But now, you are a common thug that I could hardly recognize.”

“Aw, Harry,” he said. “Don’t start again. I already told you the trick: I’m Gemini.”

We were silent for a few minutes, and then he said, “I know where the bastard lives. He and I had done a couple of business together. I assure you, he loves me to death. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me.”

“I can see that you have a ‘master-of-the-universe’ mindset, huh?” I said.

“Oh, shut up, will you?”

I gave up. What’s the point in trying to convince him? So, for the rest of the reckless drive I said nothing to him.

We pulled up outside an apartment block in Perry Hall. Councilman McCutchen, crossed the sidewalk, and pushed open the entrance door and walked up the stairs, three at a time. I followed him up the stairs. He paused outside a shabby door on which was tacked one of Revkin’s business cards. He dug his index finger into the bell-push and kept it there.

There was about ten seconds’ pause, then the door opened cautiously. I had a glimpse of Revkin’s unshaven face before he tried to slam the door shut. But then, Councilman McCutchen was ready for his move. His knee came up and smashed into the door panel, slamming the door into Revkin who went down with a little scream of fear and pain. He sat  down on the floor of the hall, looking dazed. Councilman McCutchen walked in, let me pass then kicked the door shut.

He reached out and hauled Revkin  to his feet by his necktie. The tie tightened around Revkin’s fat throat and his face turned red. He hit councilman McCutchen feebly in his face, his small hands making as much impression on councilman McCutchen as a rubber hammer would make on a lump of steel.

Councilman McCutchen suddenly let go of the tie and gave Revkin  a violent shove. Revkin   went reeling back through a door into a small sitting-room. He fell on top of a small table set for a meal, and he and the table crashed to the floor.

I stood aside and watched.

Councilman McCutchen wandered into the room, his hands in his trousers pockets, whistling under his breath.

Revkin sat in the wreckage of his lunch, his face the color of Sara Lee natural cheese, his eyeballs almost bolting out of his head.

Meanwhile, councilman McCutchen wandered over to the window and sat on the sill. He smiled at Revkin.

“Listen here, you prick,” he said, jerking his thumb at me. “I’m sure you and Mr. Harry has met? He’s my good friend. So, if anyone is going to put a bite on him, it’ll be me. You are warned. And, I won’t tell you a second time. Understand?”

Revkin nodded. He licked his lips, tried to say something, but then changed his mind.

“I learned you have a lot of written stuff about him. Is that true?” Councilman McCutchen went on. “I want you to bring it to my apartment tomorrow morning. I mean, all of it. Do you get it?”

Again Revkin nodded.

“If any of it gets in the hands of Lieutenant Ludlum, or the press, then someone will tip them off about that little job you did in Fells Point. Get it?” Councilman McCutchen went on.

Revkin nodded. I noticed that sweat had began to run down his face.

Councilman McCutchen looked at me.

“It’s done, Harry,” he said. “This prick won’t bother you again. I guarantee it.”

I said it was okay with me.

Councilman McCutchen grinned.

“Good. Anything for a friend. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch your back, right?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“Now, you get off and have fun,” he said. “Mr. Revkin and I are going to have a little session together.”

Revkin’s eyes bulged until I thought they were going to pop out of his face. He waved his hands at me and begged me  in a voice that chilled me, “Please Mr. Harry, don’t leave me alone with him. P-l-e-a-a-se!”

I had no sympathy for him.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” I said to councilman McCutchen.

As I went down the stairs, I heard a sound like the scream of a frightened puppy. Councilman McCutchen is indeed beating the hell out of him.

END OF EPISODE XXVIII

P.S. Episode Twenty-Nine  will be published here next Monday.