Clip Joint Page 4

  “It’s a fire hazard, miss,” Sam added.

  Hattie nodded. “Aye, suppose so. Still, though. Could tidy up a bit, eh?”

  Sadie struck a match and lit four oil lamps. She passed them out to several of the youths gathered around. They trotted off to far corners of the room. Before long, the light illuminated the dingy space. Hattie shook her head as she took in the sight. The ceiling was high, possibly twenty feet. Two stories of windows decked the side wall, their glass grimy and often missing panes from some errant hail stone or a thrown rock. The floor was wood plank, warped and uneven, gathering dust in its furrows. The furniture in the room was in a state of shocking disrepair, likely abandoned for years, or scavenged from the nearby structures.

  The old warehouse Sadie had led Hattie into stood like a tombstone, dark against the night sky. It was tucked away behind several newer factories, a secret and forgotten corpse rotting away where passersby never cast a glance.

  It was the perfect place for these free pinchers to hide.

  Sadie lifted a chair by its leg, spinning it in her hand to set it upright. With a couple swats and a plume of dust, she presented it to Hattie. “Have a seat.”

  Hattie nodded and sat without delay. Though the place was dilapidated, she’d spent nights in worse conditions out on the Bay. In pouring rain, hip-deep in mud, baking in blistering heat and mosquitos. By comparison, this was the Old Moravia.

  “So,” Hattie began as Sadie settled onto a table top beside the oil lamp, “what do you call yourselves, then?”

  “We call ourselves the Charge,” Sadie replied.

  “Not terribly informative.”

  “That’s the idea.” Sadie reached into the inner pocket of her wool coat to pull out a tiny brass cigarette case. She unsnapped it and fished a smoke from inside, extending it to Hattie. “We don’t advertise. You smoke?”

  Hattie shook her head.

  “We’ve been watching you, you know.”

  Hattie arched a brow. “We being who?”

  “Well, me. I had a partner, but he got snatched last year.”

  She winced. “What do you mean…snatched?”

  “What do you think?” Sadie lit her cigarette with one of her matches. “The goons.”

  “The Crew?”

  “Ha. If only.” She waved the match to extinguish it. “No, Jonas got nabbed down south and was sent upstate to Ithaca.”

  Hattie shuddered at the familiar name. Upstate. Ithaca.

  Sadie released a long drag of smoke. “Not sure if you know about it or not, but nobody wants to be sent to Ithaca. Or, the Farm it’s called in some circles. It’s where free pinchers go when they get caught. They train them to obey, beat all the independence out of them, then they auction…”

  “I know about upstate,” Hattie interrupted. She hadn’t known all the details about the place and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Is that the sort of hell Vincent had grown up in? Had Vito made good on his threat and sent him there?

  Beat all the independence out of them.

  “Like I said, I’ve been watching you,” Sadie continued, unaware of Hattie’s turmoil of thought. “For a while now I’ve had people following you, observing you.”

  “That’s not the best way to put me at ease, you know,” Hattie grumbled.

  “Right.” Sadie smirked and took another puff. “You’re a survivor, Malloy. That’s what I learned from six months of creeping around and watching you from between bushes and buildings. A survivor.”

  “So what is it you want from me?”

  “Should be obvious, huh?” Sadie shook her head. “I suppose not. Haven’t really laid myself bare here, have I? Right, so…we are the Charge.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  “Our purpose is to find all the free pinchers we can—find them before the power barons and the mob does. We find them—” she released a long stream of smoke from between her chapped lips, “—and we get them the hell out of here to somewhere safe.”

  Hattie sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re saving them, then? Where do you send them that’s safe?”

  Sadie eyed her. “Most we send west, when we can get a train car. Rockies, the plains. Not as far as the Pacific—too many moguls there who would grab a pincher to use as their own.”

  Hattie thought on that. “You keep track of them? Know where they all are?”

  “It’s in code, but yes we do. I stay in contact with them as well so I know where the safe places are, if we need to stop using a certain location or method of transportation, if I need to send someone in to assist or relocate a pincher in trouble.”

  That had to have been a huge amount of work logistically. And the money…where was she getting the money for that? But nuts-and-bolts aside, Hattie was impressed. Free pinchers helping free pinchers. It was a glimmer of hope to her, the hesitant dawning rays of what could be a Utopia, or at least a world where pinchers weren’t hunted down and enslaved.

  A tiny girl with dusty blonde hair came into the room, gripping a spindly wooden chair leg, trotting toward Hattie. As she held it out, tiny tendrils of dark brown sprouted from the surface of the chair leg, turning shades of green until they blossomed into a bevy of waxy green leaves. One by one, tiny buds popped open into a spray of daisies.

  Hattie gasped as the bouquet burst to life before her eyes. The girl pushed it toward her with a playful wiggle. Hattie took the sudden bouquet from her hand and with a laugh, the girl ran off up a flight of stairs. Her young feet pounded against the floor boards overhead, sending tiny streams of dust falling in filmy lines between Hattie and Sadie.

  “This is amazing,” Hattie said as she eyed the flowers. Then suddenly the daisies wilted, dropping petals into her lap that melted like snow in a hothouse. The leaves grew brown and papery, whisked away on an unseen breeze in the stuffy building.

  Sadie let out a breath, sending a stream of smoke through her nostrils. “That happens with the young ones. Their powers haven’t fully developed. You get a hint of what’ll be their lives, but their magic tends to be faint and short-lived.”

  Hattie set the bare chair leg aside and reached into her coat pocket for a handkerchief. Her fingers landed on something soft and rubbery. She frowned as she pulled a ripe orange from her pocket, no longer a chunk of solid gold.

  Sadie pointed at the fruit. “That was Sam’s work, wasn’t it?”

  “He turned it into gold. I was sure of it.”

  “Like I said—short-lived. When Sam comes of age and has full control of his powers, he’ll be one of the most sought-after prizes on this continent.”

  “Goose that lays golden eggs?”

  “Which is why I have to get him to safety as soon as possible.” Sadie stabbed out her cigarette and stood up to pace nervously. “He’s just a little boy. Can you imagine what his life would be like if they caught him? The lengths any of these gangsters would go to in order to get their hands on a pincher like Sam? Limitless wealth. Men have become monsters for a fraction of what that orange would have been worth.”

  Hattie nodded. “You don’t have to sell me on the virtue of what you do, Miss O’Donnell.”

  “It’s Mrs.—and call me Sadie.”

  Hattie nodded. “Well, I appreciate what you do. And what you did,” she added as she stood and took a few steps closer to the other woman. “For me, I mean. Those notes you sent to keep me free of the Crew’s clutches.”

  Sadie smiled and shrugged. “It’s not every day I get to meet a full-grown free pincher. Most of the Charge are children. I didn’t really know what to do with you when I found you.”

  “So you don’t have a train waiting to whisk me away then?”

  Sadie squinted. “Actually, I have something else in mind. Something more local.”

  Hattie eased back a step. “Oh, Jesus. You want me to join you.” She could barely keep herself out of hot water, and now this woman wanted her to rescue others?

  Sadie wrinkled her nose at Hattie’s sarcastic tone. “Such enthusiasm
.”

  “I’m sympathetic to the cause, you must know that.” Hattie held her hands up in a placating gesture. “But I’m barely a step away from the Crew. You saw what happened this past August. One wrong turn and they’ll be onto me again. Having me here risks every one of your pinchers. Having me here risks your entire operation.”

  “You’ve got people in the Crew covering for you. You’re running their booze right under their noses. You’ve got access to a boat and a truck. With your illusions? It would make transport so much safer. I’ve got a group holed up in the Carolinas unable to get north past those gangsters out of Richmond. You could help sneak them through.”

  Hattie caught her breath. The woman wasn’t wrong. She could help. But Lizzie and Raymond were already sticking their necks out far enough between her side-bootlegging and keeping her secrets. This would endanger them more than any friendship could bear. And as for the people in the Crew covering for her… Well, they might be keeping what she was close to the vest, but she doubted she could rely on them for any assistance or even to look the other way as she smuggled pinchers under their noses.

  No, it was too dangerous. And if one of these kids got caught and hauled upstate because of a mistake she made, she’d never forgive herself.

  “I…I can’t. I know I owe you for what you did this past summer—”

  “I don’t work off obligation, Malloy. I do what I do because I can’t stand to see our kind in the hands of those who couldn’t give a rat’s ass if we lived or died. Being treated like slaves. Weapons. It’s abominable!”

  Hattie nodded. “I agree, but I’m not in a position right now to get involved. Those Crew connections have dried up, and there’s a chance they still have their eye on me. It’s all I can do right now to keep my own hide free from those bastards.”

  “We need you, Hattie Malloy. And you need us. Without the Charge, you’d be in the Crew’s service right now.”

  “Are you sure you don’t work on obligation?”

  Sadie rubbed her forehead. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intent.”

  “What was, then?”

  “To show you how much you need to work with others. You can’t stay free on your own—not this close to the Crew and the other families. They have people tasked with finding us, you know. They sweep in and nab us. You’re out on that boat in the Chesapeake so often, it’d be insanely simple to bag you in the middle of the night and there you’d be.”

  Hattie frowned. “Might I ask a question?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “Sometimes you say I, and other times you say we. I know you said you had a partner at one point, but is it just you that’s got her hand on the helm right now? Or are there others?”

  Sadie drew in a long breath, then turned away. “My husband was my partner. He was the one who got nabbed and taken to Ithaca. Sometimes…sometimes I still say we even though he’s gone.”

  Hattie wilted a little. “He was killed?”

  “Retrained. Sold somewhere, I suppose.” Sadie turned back toward Hattie, eyes hard.

  Hattie winced. “I… I’m sorry.”

  The other woman nodded. “Made me more careful. Made me more committed to getting every pincher I found to freedom, to make sure no one went through what my husband did.”

  That could have been her. Vincent had sworn if she’d joined the Crew she wouldn’t be sent upstate, but she’d seen firsthand how Vito Corbi broke his promises. That could have been her. Tortured in Ithaca. Broken. Sold to some group of mobsters, never to see her friends or family again.

  This is what Vincent had sacrificed his standing in the Crew to protect her from.

  “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?” Hattie whispered.

  Sadie stepped past Hattie. “Nothing for the nerves, if that’s what you mean. But if you’re thirsty…”

  She pulled open a door, sending a winter wind into the space that shook the candle flames. Crouching down and reaching into a snow bank, she pulled a large ball of snow inside, then leaned against the door to shut it, holding the snowball in the palm of her hand. The snow crunched and stretched, drawing together into a lean-stemmed goblet of shimmering ice. The last dollop of snow snapped into a tiny pour of water, swirling within the ice chalice. She handed the cup to Hattie, who took it with a shiver as the cold leeched into her fingers.

  “You’re an ice pincher,” Hattie marveled.

  “This is my time of year,” Sadie replied as she turned to take a seat. “It takes a lot out of me to pinch ice in the summertime, but in winter? I have more options.”

  Hattie nodded as she sipped the snow water. It tasted clean and sweet. She took a seat once again across from Sadie, balancing the ice goblet between her hands.

  “How did you stay free for so long?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t always free. Grew up near Chicago. Both of my parents were pinchers. They worked for a railroad baron. When I was born, I was allowed to stay with them for about ten years. Then Torrio took over when Colosimo was murdered. Then the rail business went into a decline.”

  “They sold you?”

  “Torrio bought me. Our master liquidated most of his holdings that weren’t nailed into the prairie dirt with crossties and spikes so we all got sold.”

  “Your parents?” Hattie prodded.

  “Split up and sold out west somewhere.” Sadie squinted at Hattie. “That’s a story more common among our kind than I think you realize. You with both parents intact, all living under the same roof like real people, that’s rare.”

  “Pinchers are real people,” Hattie chided, “and I do realize how lucky I am.”

  Sadie shook her head. “Anyways, things got heated quickly in Chicago. Torrio was…distracted. Didn’t know how to use me properly. No handlers. So, one night six years ago, after a dust-up between street gangs, I spiked their car tires and disappeared into the snow. Eventually wound up here.”

  Hattie leaned back in her chair, finishing her water. She set the empty glass onto the floor. With a wave of a finger, Sadie returned the glass into a lump of snow.

  “What’s your end game here?” Hattie asked after collecting her thoughts. “Eventually the gangsters will expand west of Chicago. Those on the West Coast will expand east. They’ll meet in the middle and there will be no safe place for us to be.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, though? There could be an entire generation of free pinchers raised outside their manacles—a generation that knows they have as much right to be free as anyone.”

  Hattie slowly shook her head. “Aye, it’s a noble sentiment. But thinking this would last more than a few years seems a bit naïve.”

  “It’s the only solution I’ve got for the time being.”

  Hattie wrinkled her nose in thought. “But wouldn’t it be better long-term to work inside to try to dismantle the system? Hide in plain sight. Work to subvert these bastards. Chip away at their own economy until they can’t afford the manacles anymore?”

  Sadie leaned forward. “Now who’s being naïve? How long do you think that’ll last? These gangsters capture one of us, they hold the key to the rest. One or two may stay loyal, keep us hidden. But eventually they’ll find a way to turn the thumbscrews hard enough that someone gives us up, and then we’re all in the bag.”

  “It can happen,” Hattie protested. “And it’s a far sight better plan than running and hiding our whole lives. What we need, though, is strong leadership willing to take the risk.”

  “On that point you’re right,” Sadie replied with a lift of her brow. “Which is why we need people like you! Adults who are already convinced of our rights. Grown-ups to show these children what to live for.”

  Hattie sighed. “You don’t want someone like me. Trust me.”

  Sadie leaned back with a smirk. “So… Chipping away at their economy, huh? Is that what you’ve been doing running up to Philadelphia?”

  Hattie frowned. “I don’t suppose that’s any of your busine
ss.”

  “I’ve been watching you. Passing off illusions as paper money. Taking possession of liquor shipments. Reselling them all to the Philly boys. That’s a dangerous game, Hattie.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “But I admire the ambition of it. That’s the sort of guts we need in the Charge. Now, you don’t have to say yes or no tonight.” Sadie stood and offered a hand to Hattie. “You can think it over. Take as long as you like.”

  She took Sadie’s hand and rose from the chair. “You have to understand my family comes first.”

  Sadie nodded.

  “I would help…if I could. If I had time. If I wouldn’t be putting so many people at risk.”

  Sadie brushed past Hattie to open the door.

  Hattie squinted into the frigid wind as she stepped out into the night.

  “We’ll keep an eye out for you, Malloy,” Sadie called after her. “No obligations.”

  The door shut behind Hattie, who found herself alone in a yard of snow drifts. As she turned to weave her way back to civilization, the door opened once again. Sadie stepped out into the yard, the snow easing away to clear a path for her.

  “Actually, since you’re here, I thought I’d push my luck.”

  Hattie lifted a brow.

  Sadie continued, “Next time you’re on the Bay, I wonder if you’d do me a favor. A quick errand.”

  “What sort of errand?”

  “We’ve heard of a camp out on one of the islands near the outlet to the ocean. A place called Bimini, I think. It’s supposed to be some sort of refuge for free pinchers, but we learned it was—”

  “—a trap.”

  Sadie blinked at Hattie.

  “I know where it is.”

  “It’s possible free pinchers have gathered there, following this snipe hunt.”

  Hattie lifted a hand. “You don’t have to worry. A friend and I took care of it.”

  “Still, though. If there’s no one to nab them, they could be there waiting for someone to give them some direction. Would you mind taking a look around, just to be sure?”

  Hattie sighed. “Right, fine. I’ll do it.”