Philadelphia Noir - Carlin Romano [85]
“You three can go to the devil! I’m William Taitt. My family built this city. I won’t be denied my conjugal rights.”
“Your rights don’t include assault, sir.” This from Martha, which drew a sneering condemnation from Taitt: “How would you, a spinster, know anything about marital rights, madam? Or fornication, unless it’s with a—?”
“Taitt. Silence—”
“Lay a hand on me, Kelman, and I’ll make certain you’re hounded from the city. I am aware that you are in the mayor’s employ, but his relationship with me is one of friendship and camaraderie.”
You may wonder where was I while this altercation unfolded. The truth is that I stood stock-still and slack-jawed. My characters speaking for themselves? Carried along by their own volition? Like the father and son, I watched the scene in silence.
“I’m waiting, wife. You have a child at home, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t, William. How could I?”
“Ah, contrition, Becky … A new guise. But I think not spoken with sufficient sorrow.”
“My sorrow is in seeing you under the influence of drink. You make a spectacle of yourself in front of our friends—”
“You call these people friends? Well, I do not. And I won’t have my spouse hectoring me.” He held her arm tightly as he spoke.
Martha snatched at his sleeve when he attempted to lead Becky away; Kelman grabbed Taitt’s shoulder. Kelman’s fingers may be as long and tapered as a pianist’s, but he’s accustomed to using force when necessary. He’s also tall; when roused he appears taller and even more imposing. Becky’s husband looked puny beside him, as if his fine garments were sturdier than his limbs.
“Let her go, Taitt. Your threats have run their course. She told you she’d return in due time.”
“I ordered you not to touch me, Kelman.” At that, William Taitt yanked a pistol from his jacket, a new derringer manufactured in the Northern Liberties. If you’re a history buff, you’re familiar with the weapon and its eponymous inventor. If not, this is no time for an aside on the Gold Rush of ’49, or the romance of the Old West. Deringer, Henry. Look him up.
When the gun was whipped out, everyone except Taitt froze. This included the dad and kid. I was already doing my zombie impression.
“Not quite the cock-of-the-walk, are you now, Mister Kelman? Unhand me at once, or I’ll do some damage.” Taitt waved the shiny weapon aloft, pointing randomly at the purplish sky. “This is no fowling piece, I assure you. Oh, I know, gentlemen don’t arm themselves on our city streets, but you see, I’m in the vanguard of taste. I set style, I don’t follow it. Who knows, someday derringers like mine may become de rigueur accessories like hats or walking sticks or ladies’ parasols. I intend to have my wife obey me.” He lowered the gun to shoulder height and smiled. “Don’t think I’m not sincere. The pistol’s loaded.”
With that he discharged it, the retort so loud that even the pigeons accustomed to backfiring motorcycles and belching city buses flapped upward in alarm. Above the bank, the starless air filled with the frantic flutterings of their wings. I watched them circling, as black and swift as bats; then I heard a groan and the thud of a body falling while Becky implored: “William, don’t.” Her voice was now whisper-soft, an echo of what it had been. “I’ll do as you say.”
My focus returned to earth, but she and my embattled creations had vanished. In their place was nothing, no muzzy wavering of ectoplasmic matter, no faint entreaties from on high. Night had descended, but it wasn’t darkness that hid my friends from view. They were simply gone, as if they’d never stood on the soil in front of me.
“Don’t leave,” I whispered, but my plea was too late. However those four had managed to materialize, they’d chosen the same means of escape.
“Coo-ool,” the boy said. “Dad, that was waaay cool.” He stood beside his father, who was now lying on the pebblestones, facedown, his head inches from the entrance steps to the Second Bank. The child’s expression as he gazed at his father’s prone form couldn’t have been prouder. Reflecting the glow of an exterior