— Chapter Seven —

Broken-Down Brown Shoes

F

elix awoke to the sound of a knock on the door as it opened. He didn’t understand where he was at first as he sat up. He had fallen asleep for almost three hours, and the hotel cleaning maid was coming in to clean the room. The time was ten minutes before eleven in the morning. Felix got off the bed and told the woman he was leaving. His feet felt heavy because he fell senseless with them still on the floor. Felix made it to the lobby, his head still in a fog. Felix asked to have his car pulled around as he was checking out.

He drove north on Lake Shore Drive and back to Orchard Street. When he arrived at his house, he found that only the staff were home. His father and brother were at Williams & Kendell. Felix’s mother was at one of the clubs doing a women’s event.

He went to his room and cleaned up. He emptied his pocket and placed everything he had onto his dresser. Including Jack’s room key, he realized he had forgotten to return to the front desk. He went to his bathroom, showered, shaved, and put on new, clean clothes.

He wore plus-four knickers with an Argyle knitted pattern. Showing large interlocking diamonds in various summer colors in the trousers. He also wore a crisp white dress shirt with a yellow-and-light-blue striped tie. Over the shirt and tie was a bluebird vest with cream pinstripes. Knee-high stockings, showing a pinstriped diamond pattern. Black and white wingtip shoes and a canary yellow golf cap. Finally, he put everything back into his pockets, including the room key so that he could return it to the hotel.

He went to the kitchen and made himself a sizable glass of pineapple juice and something to eat. Felix picked up the kitchen phone and dialed the operator. He wanted to determine which police station was in the Blackstone Hotel’s precinct. Felix finished eating and didn’t talk to the staff. —He soon left the house and headed to North Larrabee Street in downtown Chicago.

Felix drove back into the city to the precinct where they were storing Jack Tate’s body. Once at the station, he asked who he should speak to about his dead friend. Felix ran into a person he hadn’t seen for a long time. His name was Matt Cooper, and he was about the same age as Felix. Cooper was a staff member at the Corinthian Yacht Club when Felix was in high school.

“Mr. Kendell? —It’s me, Matt. —Matt Cooper from the yacht club,” said Cooper. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

Felix had a foggy gaze at Cooper. The man was wearing a police uniform.

“Matt, I didn’t recognize you in the uniform,” said Felix. “I also didn’t realize you became a copper. —How are you?” he asked, shaking the man’s hand.

“I’m fine, sir. —Is there something I can do to help you?” asked Cooper.

“No—no, I’m here about my friend Jack Tate. He was found dead at the Blackstone Hotel,” said Felix.

“Oh, right. —The men took Mr. Tate into the morgue,” said Cooper. “Sorry, I didn’t know Mr. Tate as well as you. Actually, you treated me like an equal. Few members did. —Do you need to see him?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was hoping someone could take me to him,” said Felix.

“Wait here, Mr. Kendell, I’ll be right back,” said Cooper as he turned and headed down the hallway.

As Felix waited for Cooper to come back. He stared at the photos on the wall of the police office, which had hung there for the past fifty years. Each image was a group shot from every year, starting in 1872. In the reflection of one of the framed photos, Felix saw Ruby Lansberry.

She was coming toward him from down the hall. She had already been crying. And when Ruby spotted Felix, the woman ran to him and began crying again. Felix gave her his handkerchief and held her as she sobbed.

“Oh, Felix. —Jack’s dead. I can’t believe he’s dead,” said Ruby. “The last time I was with him, I was so mad at him —I—I.”

“I know. —It’s a shock to me also,” said Felix.

“Do the police know how it happened yet?” asked Ruby.

“Has no one told you anything?” asked Felix.

“I went back to the hotel late this morning, and that is when they told me the police had taken him here. Have you seen him? Does he look bad?” said Ruby.

“No, I haven’t seen him. —I’m waiting to find out who can take me to him,” said Felix.

A moment later, Cooper came back and said. “I talked to my supervisor, and he’s allowed me to escort you to the morgue.”

“This is Miss Lansberry, said Felix. “She, too, was a friend to Jack.”

“I understand. —Did you want to come with us, Ma’am?” asked Cooper.
“NO. —I can’t,” said Ruby.

“Okay, Miss,” said Cooper. “Mr. Kendell, if you could follow me, please.”

Cooper led the way, and Felix followed. Ruby started walking behind. Halfway down the hall, they both stopped and cast an eye towards her, then turned to continue to the morgue. Ruby also followed from a distance. She didn’t know what else to do. —When they got to the final door, Cooper held it open for both of them to walk in. Cooper went to one of the small stainless steel doors against the wall and opened it.

Felix walked right up to it as Cooper pulled the body out. Ruby still stood at the other end of the room next to the door they walked into. Cooper pulled the sheet off the body’s head to show the upper part of Jack’s naked body. The dead man’s face was pale white with blueish lips.

“His parents were already shown the body,” said Cooper. —“They did identify him as their son —Jack Tate,” he said.

“Yeah —that’s Jack. —He looks peaceful,” said Felix.

Ruby came up right behind Felix and peered around him to view Jack. She started crying again.

“My God, he’s dead —I can’t believe he’s dead,” Ruby said, sobbing.

Felix turned her away and escorted her out of the room. He stood with her until Cooper came back out of the cold room. They all went back to the front entrance of the police station.

“Is there anything else I could do for you, Mr. Kendell?” asked Cooper.
“No, Matt. You have been a great help. —Thank you,” replied Felix.

“Sure thing, Mr. Kendell,” said Cooper.

“Matt, one thing,” said Felix. “The police officer at the crime scene told me they took photographs. May I review these photo images?” he asked.

“I would have to get the investigator involved,” said Cooper. “Is this something you want me to do?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” said Felix.

“Okay, if you will, please come this way,” said Cooper, as both men started walking down the hall. “I’ll introduce you to the investigator on the case,” he said.

“Felix,” said Ruby. “I’m leaving. —I can’t be here any longer. I—I must go,” she said to him.

“I understand,” said Felix. “I’ll keep you updated on what happens. —What’s a good number to call you?” he asked.

Ruby gave Felix a phone number that was also the hallway phone on her apartment floor. The young reporter wrote it down in his notebook. Felix and Cooper left Ruby at the police station.

Cooper led Felix to the investigation department. At the Detective desk was a man named McMann. The tired-looking police detective was a forty-something-year-old man, but looked even older. He wore broken-down brown shoes and was sloppily dressed. The man stood 5 feet 9 inches tall and was slightly overweight, with gray hair in his bushy mustache. Whereas Felix was clean-shaven, his hair smoothly combed with pomade. The young reporter was neatly dressed. The two could not be any more opposite from each other.

Cooper introduced them and left them to talk.
“So, Mr. Kendell, is it? What can I help you with?” asked McMann.

“I came to set eyes on these crime photos of the Jack Tate case,” said Felix.

“And why do you want them?” asked McMann.

“I’m hoping that there is anything in them that can help in solving this case,” said Felix.

“Like what?” asked McMann.

“I’m not sure until I review everything you have,” said Felix.

“Mr. Kendell, the police department isn’t here to meet your fetish of snuff photos,” said McMann.

“I’m not a snuff junkie. I knew the man who was murdered. I want to see if there’s anything that could jog my memory from the last time I was in his room before we left last night,” said Felix.

Wait a God-damn minute! You were in the victim’s room the night of the murder?” asked McMann.

“Yes, I was there for a couple of hours before we left to go out last night. We came back to the Blackstone Hotel around one o’clock in the morning. —I may have been one of the last people to see him,” said Felix.

“Is that right? So, you’re more than just someone who knew Mr. Tate. You are a person who was with him most of the night before he died,” asked McMann.

“Yes,” said Felix.

“Well, Mr. Kendell —I would like to interrogate you,” said McMann.

“Fine, but only AFTER I look at all the photos from the crime scene and anything else you have on the case. Then you can ask any question you want,” said Felix.

Detective McMann picked up the file on the Jack Tate case and told Felix to follow him to an interrogation room. McMann opens the door to let Felix in and closes it behind him. He placed everything he had on the table. He pulled out all the photos for Felix to review. Felix picked up one image after another. After he finished the stack, he returned to the first photo and began asking questions.

“What angle was this taken with the camera?” asked Felix.

“That one is behind the couch, looking towards the chair. So are the following groups of shots,” answered McMann.

“Sure, I see it now,” said Felix.

“And these are from the doorway looking into the room,” said McMann.

“Yes, of course,” said Felix. “And these images of Jack’s head. Are these to help show where the bullet hit him?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said McMann.

“Is that blood on his collar?” asked Felix.

“Where? —No, lipstick. These black and white photos can do only so much,” said McMann.

“And here? Is that also lipstick on his neck, under the ear?” asked Felix.

“Yeah, and this shot also shows where the round struck the victim. It was under the base of the skull next to the ear,” said McMann.

“And, you claim this was an execution? How do you know that?” asked Felix.

“Notice where the bullet hole is on the victim’s head?” asked McMann.

“That is where a hitman would shoot their victims. So they drop dead in one shot. Along with the pillow having gunpowder marks on one side and the victim’s blood on the other,” he said.

“The killer used it on purpose?” asked Felix.

“Yes, he placed the pistol’s muzzle against the pillow and the pillow against the victim’s head. POP. The pillow makes it harder to hear the shot. It’s an old trick they use,” said McMann.

“How did this hitman get into the room with Jack?” asked Felix.

“Simple —Mr. Tate let him in,” answered McMann.