Southern Justice, Part 53

I’m Fixin’ To present part 53 of Southern Justice:

It was late the following Monday afternoon when B. Wendell Hormel and his stooge, Ray McKinley, were having a drink of whiskey out of Styrofoam cups in his office when one of the clerks walked in and handed B. Wendell a message. He looked at it, passed it across his desk to Ray and said, “Looks like you have another lunch date.”

Ray looked down at the note and read it out loud: “Lunch and a tip tomorrow.” Then he looked up at his boss and said, “What the heck does that mean?”

“It means that you’re having lunch again with Judge Hollis Garrett tomorrow. That note is his code. It means he has some information for us and of course he expects to be paid,” B. Wendell said while he was pulling a desk drawer open, out of which he extracted another fat envelope and tossed it across his desk toward Ray.

“What! You’re giving him another thousand?” Ray asked in amazement.

“That’s the old buzzard’s fee, that and lunch,” B. Wendell informed him.

While straightening the knot in his tie Ray asked, “Do I meet him at the same place?”

“That’s correct, Ray, Mary Mac’s Tea Room, he eats lunch there almost every day,” B. Wendell told him.

“What about after I have delivered the goods and had lunch, do you want me to come back here, or meet you somewhere?”

“I want you to return directly here with any information you gather precisely recorded in your head. Then I’ll have a couple of follow up tasks for you.”

Ray was standing outside the restaurant on Ponce de Leon Avenue at lunchtime on Tuesday, when the judge’s driver pulled up to the curb and dropped him off. The ritual was the same: He asked about B. Wendell’s well being, accepted the envelope, ate exactly the same meal as before, and asked Ray to convey his gratitude to his boss.

Once again, as the meal wore down to nothing except sipping sweet tea, Judge Garrett softly said, “Ray, you can tell B. Wendell that a lawyer by the name of Roland James from the firm of Dees, Dees and McGariety, late yesterday afternoon, filed a claim to contest the Haselton will. However you boys want to handle it from here is up to you.”

By two o’clock Ray was back in B. Wendell’s office, where he delivered the Judge’s message.

“That’s exactly what I expected those bumpkins to do,” B. Wendell said with satisfaction. “Now, Ray, the next thing you’re going to do is get yourself an appointment with this lawyer representing the Pic-Ric Boys, Mister Roland James. Tell him you have some important information concerning one of his clients at the Gentlemen’s Club and that you’ll only deliver in person.

“But before you do that,” B. Wendell continued, “I want you to go directly to The Gentlemen’s Club this afternoon. They won’t be open yet so you’ll have to go to the employees’ entrance in the rear. Just knock, and when someone answers just give them your name and tell them you’re there to see Joey Sitka. I’ll call and make sure they are expecting you.”

“Boss, I thought Joey Sitka was in jail!”

“Ray, a man like Joey Sitka doesn’t stay in jail very long,” B. Wendell said as he slid yet another fat envelope across the desk.

“Dang boss! another payoff?”

“Yeah, everybody wants their slice of the pie, Now listen carefully Ray. This is exactly what I want you to do———-”

Ray was whisked directly into Joey Sitka”s office as soon as he arrived at the club. The man instantly intimidated him and as soon as they shook hands a wave of chill bumps swept over him as he realized this man could have him done away with and disposed of before dark.

Ray felt slightly less nervous after he was invited to take a seat. Sitka didn’t make any small talk, just got right down to business when he said, “I understand you have a name for me, Ray. We’ll also need some particulars, just to make sure we get the right guy.”

“His-his-his name is James, Roland James,” Ray stuttered. “He’s a lawyer at the Dees, Dees and McGariety firm.”

Joey Sitka’s fingers worked the keys on his lap top for a few moments before he said, “Ah, yes—Roland. We know Roland. We know Roland very well. I’ll need an address to deliver the package to.”

(tmdunagan@aol.com)