Three Strikes & You’re Out

Rule 66 , persistence always pays dividends. 

This is my third try trying to nab our crooked mayor, McKenzie on something concrete. 

I long suspected he was involved in some manner in the counterfeit scheme in thwarted but was never able to nail him on anything. He’s a slippery fox. He covers his tail well. Strike one.

And nearly Linked him to the conspiracy to kill the counterfeiter in prison. I’m sure he did that one and I do have evidence that he was coverting with the dead man’s wife and maybe even the father of her unborn child. But she died too. I couldn’t pin him to that either.

I even found out he was connected to mobs as a two bit teenage hood running numbers for a local family, at no coincidence, the father of the same counterfeiter who he had killed in prison. Allegedly, of course I couldn’t nail that one down either. Strike two.

But I know this mayor has criminal blood running through every vein. I have a sixth sense about these things as I have newspaper acumen running through my blood. My father old Henry Beck gave me all the tools I need and I’ve built on that. I’ve gotten to the point that I instill fear in criminals all over town. I like that feeling. Rule 44, the more you scare them the easier it is to catch them. They also always slip up when they’re nervous and I watch them very carefully. 

But McKenzie is a different kind of animal. He’s not incredibly smart, but he’s big time now and he knows how to cover his tracks. He’s got a lot of people working for him and I’ve got a laundry list of my own. Everything connects so easily. His criminal background, his dubious ascension to the mayor’s office as a complete unknown and then conveniently after the counter fitter is put away, his factory conveniently Burns down to the ground right next to the spot where the mayor wants to put a new recreation facility that benefits the entire community. And just in time for his next reelection. He thinks of everything, but I think I’m smarter. I’m building my case one step at a time just like the building blocks in construction. But now I’m on this radar. I only have one strike left or I’m done maybe in more ways than one. He has a way of eliminating obstacles. I’m pretty sure McKenzie is behind all the attempts on my life and there have been many. Rule 71, too many coincidences are not a coincidence. So far, he’s tried to blow me up, drop s heavy chandelier on me and run me off the road into a pond. And those are just the big ones. I’m not accident prone. I’m a target because I know too much. So what’s my next move? I have informants all over the city waiting for him to slip up. I just need one more piece of information to rattle him a little. 

But it won’t be easy he has no shame. He even committed adultery with the wife of the man he had killed, but quite frankly people don’t care about adultery. It may be against Commandments, but it’s not against the law, especially a man and even more so for a powerful man. They’ll probably give him a trophy for It. No, it has to be something really bad. 

As I sit here at my desk in The Old Bug, I’ve chewed more pencils than I care to admit soon they’re gonna start charging me for these pencils. It’s a nervous habit. You have to have a few in this business. And I’m trying to cut down on cigarettes. Somebody recently told me they’re bad for you. I don’t know if I believe it, but it’s worth a try to cut down. Besides they say they might be bad for you. They’re not sure but with all the taxes McKenzie keeps laying on him I gotta try. He obvious has no connection to cigarette manufacturing.

But sometimes you gotta watch your pennies where you can. Newspaper reporters don’t do it for the money. Hardly. Some do it for the glory. Not me. Truthfully I think I do it for justice and to keep our cities safe, but sometimes I think I like the chase too much. It’s exciting.

But I need a lead. And before I know it my editor comes in either a doosey. Rule 98 ask and you shall receive. 

“May, this tip just came across my desk and I thought it was right up your alley. The mayor is asking the city council to pass a law requiring the closure of old high road. 

I grab the piece of paper from his hand to read it for myself. 

“What? That makes no sense. The only thing on that road is the grainery. There are at least 50 people working there.”

And then it was as if I heard a choir of angels sing a harmonious Aah. 

“Wait. I seem to remember some buzz about  another grainery opening on the outskirts of town. And it was owned by the kid of the former Secretary of State. I’ve always suspected McKenzie had connections at the state level. This could be payback.”

He squinched his face at me in disbelief. 

“I’m no fan of McKenzie, but you really think he’d put 50 townspeople out of work to pay back a political debt.”

“McKenzie’s up to his eyeballs and political debt. And he’s not necessarily putting them out of work. I bet they can all get jobs at the new grainery. Then the only person it hurts is the owner of the grainery.”

Now I can tell I have him hooked. 

“Then who owns the existing grainery?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

I grabbed my purse and hat and run out of the newsroom, realizing I didn’t say goodbye to my editor. Oh well, he’ll forgive me when I bring in the story. 

On the way, I need to come up with some cover story to ask questions at the grainery. 

I can’t tell him about this perspective ordinance to close down the only ingress and egress from his plant. I know I’ll say we’re doing a feature on his business. And even though I’m not the business reporter, i’ll say I’m doing him a favor. 

When I arrive at the grainery, I walk right into the office of the big cheese. They must keep a small staff here. But rule 38, the easier the better. I didn’t recognize the name on the door, Mr. Hathaway, so I thought I would probe further. 

“Are you the owner?” I ask.

The short middle-aged balding man looks up from the desk and smiles. 

“Yes I am. How can I help you?”

“I’m May Beck from The News Bugle and I’m here to do a feature on your business for my newspaper.” 

Elated, he fixed his tie and took off his reading glasses, offering me a seat. 

“Well this is quite a privilege. What would you like to know? He said. 

“For starters, how long have you owned this company?”

“We started about 25 years ago.” He offered. 

“We? Do you have a partner?”

He points to a picture on the wall of a younger, looking version of himself and another man. 

“Yes, I have a kind of silent partner, Bud Ryan.”

I stop in my tracks in shock. 

“Did you say Ryan? The same family as the Irish restaurant in town?”

“Yes, now would you like to take a tour?”

He stood up and walked toward his office door. Couldn’t good thing he couldn’t see my face. I didn’t want to give anything away, but the Ryan’s were one of the most notorious mob families in the city. Bud was one of the sons.

This whole case just got a very new complexion. McKenzie had ties to the Taylor and Carrington family, an adjacent mob, family now defunct because of the death of all the principles. But the Ryan’s are one of the main families. They have a huge family tree with a lot of criminal limbs. 

Why would McKenzie go up against the Ryans. They are very powerful and could completely halt his run for reelection just buy stuff in the ballot box or paying off voters. Nothing is beneath them. But maybe he doesn’t know the Ryan’s are involved since bud is a silent partner? 

I pretend to be interested as Mr. Hathaway goes on and on in boring detail about the processing of the grain. 

Then he introduces me to the man barking orders at the workers. 

“Miss Beck may I introduce my foreman, Ned Foster.”

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I extend my hand nonchalantly, but inside, I’m jumping with excitement. The Fosters are one of the other major crime families in the city. If this guy is related, there’s a major conflict here, but they don’t even know it. I better find out. 

“Foster. Is that the same Foster who owns the movie theater?” I ask innocently. 

He nods his head and smiles. 

“Yeah, that’s my dad. He’s the areas media Mogul heels, the movie theater radio station and as a matter of fact, I think he just bought your newspaper.”

I nearly fainted. Not only was this connection sealed, but now one of the crime families in the city has bought my newspaper? This is news to me. I’m going to have to fame an excuse to get out of here very quickly. I need to follow up on this. It could be a game changer for me and my quest against Mayor McKenzie. 

“Mr. Hathaway, I’m sorry we’re going to have to reschedule this. I’m not feeling well,” I pretend.

The very kind Mr. Hathaway leads me out the front door and I walked to my car with a 500 pound weight on my back. 

These big interests are not going to let this grainery go without a fight. In a fight with McKenzie could unturn old stones and reveal a lot of secret trysts and rivalries. 

But then again, I may be dead in my tracks. None of these guys wanna see their name or their business in black-and-white. If we do have a new owner, this could be strike three for me. Or just maybe I could be play a high-level game of chess, pitting them against each other. This could be a sticky wicket, but I’m in too deep to reverse course. I have to get McKenzie if it’s the last thing I do.