The Fixer From Boston – Chapter Eleven
Friday 17th April 1925 – Driving Around Atlantic City:
10:00pm – Going For Wiseacre
Showing mercy is what separates us from the goon squad. They’d tell you it’s a weakness, but what splashing the milk of human kindness has got us is a sawbones to patch up a very bloody and bruised Cherry. A quack without a licence mind you, but then I don’t hear Morello complaining. Groaning yes, but not complaining. Wiseacre Estate must be visited.
The boy took a beating at the abandoned warehouse, courtesy of a crack squad of ex Doughboys.
We left a lot of bodies behind and Berkeley was the one mostly bringing em in. He also swears he took out a fish man out in the bay that was chanting like the one at the Pink Feather.
The Joe that survived, TURNER, is pretty beat up too and it don’t take much to bring him around to our way of thinking on Wiseacre.
With Morello now bandaged up like Tutankhamun we have to hole up out of Town.
The next week is spent making plans and tying up loose ends. Morello’s wounds may take 3 weeks to fully heal.
Saturday 18th April 1925 – Hiding Out In Atlantic City:
In the hopes of stopping detection of this strange coral statuette we construct a lead lined box. It seems more than curious that we have been tracked while it’s been in our possession. It will also aid its easy carriage. Those rotting Fish fingers can now be slung.
Mr Turner is proving more than useful, offering to meet the rest of his guys at the bar they meet at once a week. The plan is to persuade them that the police are on to Wiseacre and also to warn off any other potential recruits. He also reveals that noisy gravel has been laid across the Wiseacre Estate, but there are enough blind spots at the Wiseacre to get us in. Wiseacre’s men aren’t allowed in the house; instead they are housed in a bunk house at the rear of the Wiseacre Estate.
Meanwhile poor Father Jericho is proving to be a hindrance and might well draw unwanted attention. We certainly don’t need Sgt Mullholland linking us to our trail of blood letting.
Jericho is dropped off at the asylum where we interviewed the poor sap who worked at the Pink Feather. I offer up a silent prayer for his sanity. He responds with aimless then frantic gibbering and jabbering’s. May God have mercy?
We decide to send Wiseacre a series of telegrams, to the Wiseacre Estate, in an attempt to lead him on a merry chase.
The opener reads
TELEGRAM:
I have what you want! STOP:
Follow my instructions or Sloane will be told STOP:
Tuesday 21st April 1925 – Sent First Telegram to the Wiseacre Estate:
Set up a trail at various locations across Atlantic City intimating that we have the Deep One, but nothing yet of the Coral.
We painting a picture? Let the bird fly or we tweet to Sloane.
Wednesday 22nd April 1925 – Sent Deep One’s Finger to the Wiseacre Estate:
TELEGRAM:
What’s the rest worth? STOP:
Ickerson come to collect the note herself looking stunning and driving her own limo – which she stalls – she sure ain’t no driver! Don’t look like anyone’s following either.
In between our paper chase we look for a friendly builders merchants who might be willing to supply some TNT. To aid our ruse we purchase a lorry, workmen’s overalls and assorted tools.
Thursday 23rd April 1925 – Wiseacre’s Response:
Wiseacre’s reply in the small ads section of the Atlantic Chronicle is terse and to the point.
TELEGRAM:
You have no idea! STOP:
Return it to us or sweetheart disappears. STOP:
Our response is equally simple and sent to the Wiseacre Estate.
TELEGRAM:
Give us the gold and dame or I walk and it dies. STOP:
Wiseacre responds in the late edition.
TELEGRAM
Where and when for exchange? STOP:
Prove she’s alive! STOP:
End of Steel pier! STOP:
We telegram back.
Fail persuade, Fail Credit Rating. Pay big bribe of $50. Get 12 sticks of dynamite.
That evening we meet with the last two of Wiseacre’s mercenaries, Turner and Wilson.
Apparently Wiseacre ain’t no gent; he threatened Ickerson and forced her at gun point to drive to collect our note.
There are four mobsters on patrol at any one time in the grounds of the Wiseacre Estate and mansion, but one of our guys are on the gate.
Friday 24th April 1925 – Back To See The Dr:
We take Morello and Stone face back to the quack, nice and early before he gets on the hops and booze. He works miracles on Morello.
We also manage to finally find a place willing to hand over a dozen sticks of dynamite for a hefty $50 bucks.
Saturday 25th April 1925 – Assult On The Wiseacre’s Estate
05:30am – Meeting At The Steel Pier
Saturday 25th 5.30 AM. The drive by at Steel Pier is now set up. We leave The Nawab’s pretty Alfa Romeo where they can see it. But instead we stake out at Oberon Ave, where the roads that lead up from Wiseacres converge.
We set up roadworks and barriers and wait in our lorry posing as workmen. Before a large sedan drives past, heading east. Inside we can make out Ickerson, Elizabeth Prendergast and four goons including one of our mercenary insiders, Conroy. He’s night man on the gate.
Could mean an average Joe was now taking his spot.
Thinking on our feet, we realise that it’s too risky to try and take out sedan.
Instead we decide to seize the moment and head to Wiseacres mansion while they are several bodies down.
We reckon it leaves roughly 8 or 9 guys plus a mercenary, the cook and Wiseacre.
Ed and Morello carry silenced pistols, sniper rifles and trench guns.
The pair set off separately, crossing vacant adjacent lots in an attempt to take the flank of the mansion and get a position on the bunkhouse at rear and try and take out at least one of the sentries.
Myself, McNifey and Turner take a more direct approach via the front gate.
Hopefully we can synchronize our efforts
At the rear of the property Ed failed to make hide but the guard similarly fails to spot him.
Morello then stalks his way to the fence shoots his pistol and hits. Ed fires his 38 and misses but hits with his second shot and downs the guard.
Almost simultaneously we approach the gate, still posing as workmen come to finish up works on the house.
I persuade the guard that I really need to use the John. Reluctantly he lets me in to the gatehouse. I offer him the business end of my .45, he sees sense.
I then go to work on the galoot’s tiny mind.
MaGee: “That Wiseacre’s goanna get you a place on the slab. Don’t play the hero and you might get outta here alive. Call your pal over here.”
He beckons to Bill who doesn’t see me. Apparently Bill has a set of keys. Bill and Tony have now both been caught with their pants down!
McNifey gently administers a chloroform nightcap. We tie them up in the gate house toilet. I put on one of their coats and hat and step out to guide the lorry into the grounds.
Around back, the third last sentry walks up to the bunkhouse and is taken by surprise but Morello’s’ first shot is only glancing, and the guard managed to blow his whistle once before Cherry’s second shot puts him down.
Within seconds bodies start pouring out of the bunkhouse. Morello takes up his Mondragon fires but misses a gangster returns fire.
Berkeley shows a lack of peripheral vision and is taken by surprise by the last mercenary, Wilson one of our men on the inside, luckily for him…
The mercenary then fools another wakening guard, lures him to the far side of the bunk house where he and Berkeley hasten him to a long, long dreamless sleep. All three then sneak around to the bunkhouse entrance to take care of the rest. They have the drop and successfully force them to surrender. Morello finds a car key and fob etched with a B.
McNifey and Turner drive our truck round the side of the building, then jump out and sneak to the imposing double front doors.
McGee quickly heads back to the Gate house and calls the telephone line to the main house. He talks to Wiseacre’s butler.
MaGee: “The builders have arrived.”
The Butler tells me to,
Butler: “Remove them.”
I run out gatehouse and toward the truck when suddenly Turner is hurled from doorway 40’ across the drive and hits the deck right in front of me, dead as a dodo! Broken neck. Goddamn!
He must have been hit by a force bolt out of the letterbox, which was open.
McNifey responds by coolly taking out a stick of dynamite, lights it, waits, and then throws it in through the letterbox.
At the back Morello pops a locked window and the Wilson climbs in almost noiselessly. However he is hit by a knife thrown with such force that it lodges in his eye and he slumps heavily on to a thick oriental rug. The perpetrator remains hidden.
However, as luck would have it McNifey’s TNT blows the front doors wide open taking out knife thrower in the process. It’s the erstwhile cook with a penchant for sharp blades. He’s wearing a long necklace with symbol of the many armed Indian God, Shiva.
McNifey creeps through front door and into an exotic glass palm house.
McGee meanwhile pulls the truck under an upstairs window and attempts to climb up the building and gain entry….but fails. Instead he shoots out upper floor bedroom window as a distraction, and goes to climb down…. stopping at front door and spotting Berkeley emerging from a back room.
Believing that Wiseacre must still be upstairs McGee lights a stick of dynamite and throws it up onto a mezzanine level that sits above the large entrance lobby.
Predictably, a big loud bang follows.
A Mondragon shot rings out, Ed, from the library where they entered and then one shotgun blast, Morello. Who was their target?
Someone is coming upstairs from the basement….