The Sandie Shaw Mysteries, The Family: Sandie Shaw, #6

By R T Green

Revenge can be a force hard to fight. When it's a family matter, sometimes it works both ways. Even after nine years.

 

Sandie and Daphne discover their office has been wrecked, the day after the crime boss Sandie's father was responsible for putting away died in prison. Nine years have passed since he brought down the family, and lost his life in doing it.

It was the tragic event that led to Sandie taking over the family business. For a year afterwards, the need for revenge burned away inside her. Then she accepted she'd already got it. The family had been destroyed because of her father's determination to take them down.

The head of the family and his eldest son were incarcerated for a long time. The hoods who worked for them but escaped prison went to work for Capone or Moran. The family was no more.

 

Or so Sandie thought. The wrecked office is a sign someone hasn't got closure. It's not difficult to work out who it is. The boss's second son, considered by his father too soft to join the family business, was out to prove he wasn't soft at all.

It's a dangerous scenario. The message left in the office places a target squarely on Sandie's back. If she doesn't implicate him before he takes the ultimate revenge, lives will be at risk. She's all too aware that someone out to prove he's got what it takes, when in reality he hasn't, makes him the worst kind of loose cannon.

 

The old feelings have returned with a vengeance. When it's a family matter, sometimes it works both ways…

 

Check out everything we do on the rtgreen website. And enjoy!  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wise Owl
• Release date: Sep 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201200060

R T Green

The RTG mission in life is simple... to not be like everyone else! ‘Going Green’ has taken on a new meaning, in the book world at least. Whilst we applaud the original meaning (ebooks are a perfect way to promote that) we also try to present a different angle to it. The tendency these days is that if you don’t look and read like everyone else, you don’t sell books. Maybe there’s some truth in that, but we simply don’t do it. The RTG books have been described as a ‘breath of fresh literary air’, and, by those discovering us for the first time, ‘unexpectedly good’. We know many readers prefer the same-old same old, and that’s fine. It’s just not what you get from the RTG stable. Those who know about such things said it would take five years to become a proficient author... I scoffed at that. They were wise. It took six. It’s one reason why even today we remodel existing books, and will always do so. Right from the early years the stories were always good, but were put into words less well than they could have been! These days we have several series and a few standalones, the hit Daisy series most popular amongst them. In everything we do, the same provisos apply – Never the same book twice. If we can’t think up a good story, it doesn’t get written. The RTG brand is about exciting and twisty plots, a fast pace which doesn’t waste words, and endearing (sometimes slightly crazy) characters. We can never please everyone, but it works for us, and, it seems, for those who appreciate our work. Enjoy! Richard, Ann and the RTG crew

Book preview

Introduction

1920’S CHICAGO. WHAT CAME to be known as the ‘roaring twenties’. For private investigator Sandie Shaw, ‘roaring’ was hardly the flattering kind of description she would ever give it.

Born and raised in the city, she despairs at everything it has become. In her view, Chicago typifies the false decadence gripping America. Only just recovering from the lawlessness of the days of the Wild West, her city and the rest of the country then entered the World War for a brief time, and when that was over, the whole nation seemed to lose all sense of reason.

People went crazy. Prohibition raised its ugly head, and the mobsters and the flappers took over Chicago. Her beloved city had fallen at the mercy of those who believed they were above the law... once again.

In truth, Chicago had long held the reputation of being the most lawless place in America. Prohibition, and corrupt governance, had handed a free meal ticket to the gangsters. It didn’t sit well with Sandie.

Taking over the one-man agency when her father died, and making it a one-woman operation, she knew from the off that in a male-dominated environment she had to be tough, and witty, to succeed.

And that keeping well away from anyone with a machine gun was a big part of staying alive.

She managed it, for eight years refusing to be drawn into anything mob-related. But then one day someone came to call, and without Sandie even realizing what she was getting into, suddenly everything changed, and it wasn’t a one-woman operation anymore.

This time round, Sandie and Daphne discover the office has been wrecked. It’s not long before they find out who was most likely responsible. It brings back tragic memories from years ago, and sends a stab of fear into Sandie’s heart. Where family is concerned, it seems the office won’t be the only thing destroyed.

‘The Family’ does exactly what it says on the tin... tells an emotional and ironic story that centers around the relationships based on family ties, past and present. It also brings bad feelings back into focus... ones which still exist on both sides of the tracks.

Enjoy!

Richard, Ann, and the crew

Chapter 1

STANDING ON THE DOCKSIDE at New York waving people off on the good ship Olympic was becoming a bit of a habit. At least this time there was only one person, and I wasn’t standing there like a gooseberry while my friends said tearful goodbyes.

Daphne and I were waving cheerio to someone on his outward journey. Archie would be gone for three weeks, visiting Rose in England. Even so, it was still a bit of a wrench, watching his diminutive little legs walking up the gangplank.

Sometimes I just couldn’t help feeling like his second mother.

‘I do hope he’ll be alright... four days on that big ship all by himself.’

Daphne’s big eyes stared at me. ‘Are you kidding? By the time he gets to Southampton our walnut will probably have solved a mystery.’

‘You could have gone too, you know.’

‘What, to see Roland or babysit Archie?’

‘Well...’

‘I told you Roland is on an assignment in Morocco, so it would have been pointless anyway. And stop worrying, Archie will be fine... as long as he keeps off the shrimp.’

I shook my head, unable to stop it flicking from side to side. ‘I just wish he didn’t get so seasick.’

She wrapped an arm around my waist. ‘Relax. The more he rides the waves, the more he’ll shake off the seasickness.’

‘And the contents of his stomach.’

Daphne chuckled at my overprotective mumsiness, likely because she had every reason to. ‘Come on, he’s got aboard without tripping over the gangplank. It’s a long drive back, so if we set off now we’ll be in Chicago by late afternoon.’

‘With your driving it might be lunchtime.’

‘I hope you’re not insinuating I’m an irresponsible road user?’

‘Would I?’

‘Yes, actually you would. There’s a blindfold in the glove compartment if you need it.’

‘I think I’d rather see my imminent demise coming, thanks all the same.’

‘I did offer.’

We’d driven to New York the previous day, knowing that making both legs of the journey the same day was way too much, both for Daphne and the Studebaker. With the Olympic due for departure at nine that morning, a night in a metropolis hotel was essential, and quite enjoyable as it turned out. New York wasn’t exactly my favourite place in America, second only to Chicago for being controlled by the mob, but luckily no one got machine-gunned while we were there.

We panned our eyes across the huge ocean liner one more time, and waved a final cheerio to Archie as the luxury ship slipped away from the dockside, with the help of a couple of tugboats. Then it was time to head back to the car.

We didn’t make it home by lunchtime, despite my feigned fears. It had just drifted past four-thirty when we hit the outskirts of Chicago. We decided to check on the office before we headed home to Braeside, to ask the staff in the accountancy firm next to us if anyone had called in while we’d been away.

As we stepped out of the elevator the young secretary we were friends with was in the corridor, just about to leave at the end of her day. She threw her hands to her face as she saw us appear. ‘Oh my god, thank heavens you’re here. I didn’t know what to do...’

We could see by her face something awful had happened. ‘Velma, what..?’

Her eyes flicked to our office door a little way along the corridor. I realised I didn’t need to ask any more questions. The door was slightly ajar, and fastened to the frame with hemp string around the handle. Where it would normally be latched and locked, there was nothing to latch or lock it to.

Velma followed us to the broken doorframe. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to contact you in New York. I discovered it when I arrived this morning. That’s the second time someone’s broken in now. I called the police, and a man came...’

I tried to pull myself together, and wrapped an arm around a devastated Daphne. ‘Was it Frank Kowalski, Velma?’

She nodded. ‘He said he would try to get someone to contact you. Obviously he wasn’t successful.’

‘We left New York just after nine this morning. We’ve been on the road ever since, so he wouldn’t have been able to make contact. We’d better get inside, see what the damage is, and then call him.’

Velma’s hands flew to her delicate face again. ‘Um... you might have to use the phone in my office...’

I frowned to her. Daphne let out a little cry. As we walked through the office door I guess I did too.

The last time it had been turned over, when it was still James’s office, it had been because someone was looking for something. As I held Daphne tight and heard her sobs, the devastation we were looking at was no comparison.

Our office hadn’t been turned over... it had been destroyed.

Frank had left everything more or less as he’d found it, wanting to contact us before sending a squad to sift through our personal stuff. He was one of very few people who knew our home number at Braeside, and he was aware we’d be back sometime that day. He’d likely been phoning several times an hour to speak to us as, thinking we’d head straight home... but of course we’d called into the office first.

He would have wanted to warn us, to prepare us for the shock. We didn’t get that luxury.

Shock was an appropriate word.

Someone sure had a massive grudge against us. The place was wrecked. Our three desks were upside down, most of the legs broken off. The wooden filing cabinets were lying on the floor in pieces, their contents now a carpet at our feet. The sofa and the blind at the window were slashed to pieces. Blood, likely from some kind of animal, was smeared across one wall.

The two telephone cables had been wrenched from their sockets, the receiver wires parted from their parent bases. Absolutely nothing had been left undamaged.

I felt a gentle hand on my arm. Velma’s eyes were glossed over. ‘I’m so sorry. Would you like to use the phone in my office to call Frank?’

I nodded, unwilling to speak right then. I noticed Daphne wipe away a tear, and then nod to me slowly.

I couldn’t find any words of comfort. There weren’t any to find. I followed Velma into her office, and thanked her for the use of her phone.

Even those few words were hard enough to speak.

Chapter 2

FRANK WRAPPED ME UP in his arms the moment he stepped from the elevator. ‘I was going frantic trying to get in touch with you. You’d already left New York by the time I first got to a phone, so I knew you were on your way back. I’ve been calling Braeside like, a hundred times.’

‘You’re a good friend, Frank.’

‘Yeah well, sometimes you need all the friends you can get.’

‘Like right now.’

He nodded, and beckoned to the two officers with him to make a start sifting through the devastation of the office. They would do all they could to find clues, even though whoever it was would most likely have made sure there weren’t any.

Frank shook his head at the awful mess. ‘Geez, ladies, I’m so sorry. This must have happened sometime during the night, when there was no one in the building. They must have had access to the main door though, coz that wasn’t forced.’

Velma handed me a spare key to her office door. Everyone on our floor had already gone home. ‘I’m sorry but I must go. Please use my office as long as you need. Make yourself a coffee or something. Just remember to lock up when you go.’

I thanked her, then slipped a hand in Daphne’s, and led her from the wrecked office to a nice neat one. She looked devastated. ‘Hey... It’s pointless asking if you’re okay, but I’m here for you.’

She nodded, and then threw her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I can’t help thinking this has happened because of me.’

I kind of knew that would be running through her mind. ‘Listen... a few people in this town are still against people with black skin doing well, but this...’ I threw my arms in the direction of our office, even though it was thankfully out of sight. ‘This is more than racial hatred... this is someone with a seriously bad grudge.’

Frank, firing up a ring on the stove to boil a kettle, nodded his head. ‘Yeah, and I got a theory who is responsible.’

‘Frank?’

He indicated Velma’s office chair. ‘You’d better sit down, Sandie.’

‘Oh hell Frank, I need to sit down anyway, but now you’ve actually suggested it I’m kinda reluctant to.’

I sat down anyway, realising that Frank’s theories were usually well-founded. He sank his butt onto the corner of the desk, and removed his hat. ‘You ain’t gonna like this, but something occurred yesterday morning just after you left for New York.’

‘Okay, stop prolonging the agony. Just lay it on me.’

‘Fair enough. We got word Don Cordolini had died in prison.’

My heart missed a beat. What he said wasn’t enough on its own for me to connect to why our office had been wrecked, but it sure was enough to start the butterflies boxing a prize-fight in my stomach.

I narrowed my eyes, still trying to work out where he was going with his theory. ‘I don’t see the connection, Frank.’

‘You wasn’t in that courtroom when Cordolini and his thug of a son were sentenced nine years ago. The look he gave your father was enough to turn an angel to stone. I guess he didn’t tell you he’d been silently threatened?’

I shook my head. ‘Not in so many words. He just said the old man wasn’t too pleased, and laughed it off.’

‘That was your father all over. Especially where you were concerned. He was always determined to shelter you whenever he could. I think he was seriously worried about the repercussions.’

It was my turn to wipe away a tear. ‘Yeah well, he was right to be. He was just training me up when... when he died. I didn’t even know why he was on that road when he crashed, I was visiting a friend when it happened.’

‘But you were intelligent enough to realise it wasn’t an accident.’

I stopped my hands twisting themselves together, knowing the agony wasn’t helping. ‘Of course it wasn’t. When I looked back I start to wonder if my father knew they were after him, and wanted to make sure he taught me some of his skills so I could survive.’

Frank’s head wandered slowly from side to side. ‘I warned him to be careful, until things had blown over.’

‘Talking of blowing over, Frank, that was nine years ago. Now you’ve got a theory it was something to do with the old man dying in prison, after all this time?’

He handed Daphne and me mugs of strong coffee. ‘It’s only a theory, but I put a lot of store in coincidences. This is one.’

Daphne wrapped both her hands around the mug like a little girl who’d fallen off her bicycle. ‘I can see where you’re going, Frank, but nine years later?’

‘Hear me out. As you know, Sandie, Don Cordolini’s son, the second-in-command of the family, was convicted of triple murder. He hung for his crimes. There was no evidence to convict Cordolini himself of the murders, but we got him on extortion and racketeering. Back then the Cordolini family were second only to the Torrio organisation in Chicago. Bugs Moran was small-time then, and Capone came along later. The old man swore vengeance, mostly because he knew that with himself and his son out of commission, the family would suffer.’

‘As they did. A year after the convictions the Cordolini crime family fell apart. Just not before...’

Frank leant over and took my hand. ‘Yeah... not before they took their retribution against your father. I tried to protect him, but...’

My head lowered, all by itself. ‘I know, Frank. We all suffered that day. But I’m still no nearer to understanding the present-day connection.’

‘Okay. You know Cordolini had a second son, right?’

‘Yeah, Pauley. He wasn’t interested in the criminal side of things though.’

Frank laughed mirthlessly. ‘The word on the street said he was. Very much. It was the old man who wouldn’t let him near the business. Said he was too soft, and would be a liability. Apparently that never sat easily with Pauley.’

‘From what I heard, with no one to challenge him he took over the family business when his father and his brother were out of the picture. Maybe the old man was right though. Pauley wasn’t up to it, given that the family business collapsed a year later.’

‘Yeah,