Private Eye: 7

“So, Vinny, or should I call you “Reaper’, what’s next?”

“How ‘bout we go for a boat ride? You can see how the other half lives. It is just a few minutes to the dock.”

“This is a nice ride, Vinny. Business must be good.”

“It is good. I always wanted a Duesenberg. This is the 1929 model J. It has a 420 cubic inch straight eight engine producing 265 horsepower. It has a top speed of 91 miles per hour. It’s the fastest and most expensive American machine on the market. Now I’m bragging but if you want one of these I can show you how to get it.“

“I think I know how you got this and it’s not in my line.”

‘Okay but be ready to be impressed. We’re approaching a straightaway. Hold on!”

“Wow, Vinny, I have to admit I’ve never been in a machine that moved so fast. Everything about this is top drawer. I’m impressed.”

“Okay, we’re coming to the dock. I will introduce you to Freddie ‘Thunder’ McGee. You’ll see why they call him ‘Thunder’.”

“Vinny,” said ‘Thunder’, “it’s been a long time. Are you ready for a fast ride?”

“Freddie, this is Eugene, a private eye, and his partner Paddy. These guys want to meet up with Jim McCarthy. I can vouch for them they’re both straight shooters.”

“Okay, boys, let me introduce you to my boat ‘Thunder’. When I start it up, you’ll hear why I call it that.”

The four men boarded the boat and seated themselves. ‘Thunder’ said, “Is everyone secure. I have lost people when I hit the throttle so fasten your life jackets and hang on.”

The passengers were thrown back in their seats and their faces were distorted with the thrust of the boat. Everybody hung on for dear life. Vinny said,” That is what an airplane engine sounds like. ‘Thunder’ had it retrofitted. The boat can now reach 34 miles per hour making it one of the fastest boats on these waters. The Coast Guard doesn’t have a boat that can catch it.”

“If you think this is loud,” shouted Thunder, “wait until you experience the Adelaide. It has three high-powered Liberty aircraft engines installed left over from the World War. Speed is 35 miles per hour compared to 24 miles per hour for the Coast Guard. Under full throttle, you would think you’re flying. Only experienced it once, but it was a thrill. Not only that but more to our hearts she can transport 6000 cases of whiskey.”

“We’re nearing the ship. Everyone keep their hands in sight and don’t make any fast moves. You won’t see it, but a machine gun is trained on you now.”

As they neared Captain Jim’s boat several sailors were ready with ropes to secure the ‘Thunder’ when it came alongside. A rope ladder was also thrown down.

With difficulty, the four men clambered up the ladder. At times their bodies caused them to swing toward the ship.

“Thunder,” said McCarthy, “I wasn’t expecting you until next week. Who are your friends?”

“This is Vinny ‘the Reaper’, Eugene and his partner Paddy they are private eyes. They have some questions for you. Don’t worry it is nothing about rumrunning.”

“Come aboard, we can have a drink while we talk. Do you have a preference, or shall I bring out my finest whiskey?”

Eugene said, “That’s hard to turn down. We appreciate your hospitality.”

“You have questions. What are they?”

“I have been hired to find the whereabouts of Amelia Monroe. Her sister is worried about her.”

“Amelia is here. I’ll have someone call for her. Right now she’s below deck in my cabin. Assure you she is here of her own free will and in good health. Here she is, you can ask her yourself.”

“Amelia, my name is Eugene Leftowicz, we spoke on the telephone.”

Eugene was not ready for the swell-lookin’ dame standin’ afore him. The likeness to her sister was mind-blowin’, but while Evelyn was a blonde, Amelia sported long, luscious, wavy hair cascadin’ down her back. Instead of them baby blues, Amelia’s peepers were as dark as a shadowy alley. Their shapes were alike, but Amelia had more curves to make heads turn. Eugene had seen her type before. Her luscious lips could make promises her heart had no intention to keep. She was all smoke and mirrors, playin’ with a fella’s heart like a cheap deck of cards. She was a real slick operator, this one.

“So, my big sister sent you. I told you that everything was copacetic. I am enjoying a cruise as the guest of Captain McCarthy, or Jim as he likes me to call him. Now that you’ve seen me, I trust that you will deliver a favorable report to my nosy sister.”

“I will indeed, Miss Monroe. It was not our intention to cause you any trouble. It was just your sister being protective. As I can see that you are being well cared for, I will advise your sister accordingly.”

“Thank you, Captain McCarthy, for your generous hospitality. I hope we haven’t disrupted your day.”

“Not at all, gentlemen, please come again. Thunder, did you want to collect your shipment today or wait until next week.”

“Today is good, it’ll save me a trip and I have assistants to help with the heavy lifting.”

“So, we’ll start loading your usual order of 383 sacks of our finest?”

“Yes please, Jim. I have your payment on hand.”

A loud, rough, and garish low-pitched sound like a tuba played from close range sounded on deck. Eugene noticeably startled exclaimed, “What the hell is that? It sounds like a foghorn, but there’s no fog. What is up?”

“We have an emergency!” shouted Captain McCarthy, “That sound is warning of an approaching Coast Guard vessel. Everyone get below deck. NOW! This could be crazy. Helmsman, change course! Out to sea!”

“I don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry, but Coast Guard has been known to fire machine guns and cannons. We’re in international waters and we’re registered under a British flag. The United States doesn’t have jurisdiction here, but they don’t always follow the rules. We’ll be safer further out to sea. Enjoy your voyage.”

Eugene and Murphy looked at each other in panic mode. “This changes everything,” shouted Eugene over the blast of the foghorn. “I guess we had better get below deck, wherever that is.”

“This way gents,” instructed McCarthy, “a sailor will lead you below deck. Don’t panic, we have enough grub onboard to keep us for a month and more hooch than you could imagine in your wildest dreams. You’ll find the quarters quite comfy. Think of this as a hotel on the water.

“Thunder, we have your boat in tow. There is nothing to worry about.”

A sailor opened the hatch and directed the passengers down the companionway to below deck. As the captain had advised, Eugene and Murphy found the ship’s quarters to their liking. The engines roared and passengers were thrown back in their seats. The sailors had been instructed to treat them as special guests and were prompt in serving glasses of hooch. In Eugene’s mind, he had arrived in heaven.

Amelia joined them for a drink. “Jim said that as a landlubber I should keep you company. We will let the sailors do the sailing.”

“So, Amelia, spill the beans,” prompted Eugene. “We have heard about you from your sister, but I am sure she left out a lot of juice. Please, elucidate.”

“Well, ain’t you bringing out the fancy words? Not bad for a private dick. I’m just a greenhorn trying to get schooled in the real world. Eventually, I hope to learn enough to be able to write about my adventures. These last few weeks have surely provided material.”

“That’s an understatement. Are you aiming to be a bootlegger, or maybe a mob boss? Or haven’t you made up your mind?”

“I know you’re being facetious. See, I know big words too. I’ve met some swell folks lately who have been more than generous in helping me explore my life goals. Where my path will lead is up for grabs.”

A loud boom erupted near the ship. One of the sailors comes down to spill the beans on what’s goin’ down.

“We’re getting’ blasted by the San Diego, a Coast Guard vessel. They’re usin’ a 6-pounder, which was a handy anti-tank cannon back in the war. We’re stuck with a bunch of Colt-Browning machine guns, hardly a match for that cannon.”

“So, what’s the scoop now?” pipes up Eugene, “Will the Coast Guard hop on board? Are we gonna get pinched like in them speakeasies?”

“We’ll try to keep you outta sight and outta trouble. Just take it easy and enjoy the cruise. Sorry to put ya to any inconvenience.”

“Listen here, pal. It really chaps my hide when I gotta wait for my drink. It’s a real inconvenience, see? But let me tell ya, gettin’ blasted by a cannon ain’t nothin’ to scoff at. It’s a whole different ballgame if ya catch my drift.”

“I’ll relay your beefs to the Big Cheese. Now I gotta hit the deck and try to save your hides.”

Captain McCarthy came down and said, “I know you’re all shaking in your boots. Can’t blame ya, but we got this situation under control. You were informed that the San Diego is shootin’ at us with a 6-pounder cannon. The effective firing range of a 6-pounder is 1,650 yards. Our radar tells us they’re a mile away, which is 1760 yards. That means they’re at the edge of their shootin’ range. All we gotta do is create more distance between us and them. We’ve got a speed advantage of eleven miles per hour, or .09 miles per minute. Easy as pie.”

“I ain’t catchin’ the calculations, but I reckon we gotta put our trust in ya to get us outta this mess.”

A second deafening blast erupted. This time da ship was rattled, and da air was filled with da sound of splinterin’ timber and shatterin’ glass. “Holy shit!” exclaimed Eugene. “Is dis da big one? Are we gonna sink like rats in da ocean or get blown ta pieces right here on da ship? I don’t know which is worse. I’d rather take a mobster’s bullet any day. Quicker way to go.”

“Hold on, Eugene. Yer wish might still come true. It ain’t over yet. Least we ain’t takin’ on water, and that’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Murph. You’re a goddamn fountain of wisdom, whatever da hell dat means.”

Captain McCarthy came down again and bellowed, “It’s over. We took a hit, but we are  outta shootin’ range, and we’re headin’ fer da Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” cried Eugene. “We didn’t sign up fer dis. How ’bout gettin’ us back home?”

“I’d like ta oblige ya, but headin’ home means sailin’ right inta da clutches of da Coast Guard. It’s better we keep outta sight. Besides, we can pick up anotha shipment of bootleg liquor while we’re at it.”

“I gotta admit, it’s a relief not gettin’ riddled with bullets no more. Heard the Bahamas got them pristine sandy beaches, but lemme tell ya straight, if we ain’t willin’ to head there, that’s straight-up abduction. Am I right or am I right as Wimpy says in the Popeye funny papers, truth, or am I missin’ something’?”

“You’re spot on, Mr. Leftowicz, and I reckon a judge would see it your way once you educate them about why you were on a rum running’ vessel.”

“Well there is that, I guess. How long before we reach the Bahamas?”

“By past experience, depending on weather, we should arrive in about seven days.”

…

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