I looked out my office window. An evening fog was rolling into the bay from the Golden Gate, curling its tendrils around San Francisco. I lit a cigarette and sat down at my desk reading the words on the door. Jonathan Klein: Private Detective it said and there was the symbol of an eye staring blankly at me. The eye was too much, like something in the movies, but I had never gotten around to removing it. Not that I had been busy with anything; I hadn’t had any business for weeks. Nothing. Not any housewives suspecting their husbands of infidelity or even the occasional old woman suspicious that her neighbor was a communist. I turned my grace back towards the window only to turn it right back to the door to see Detective Franks coming into my office. Officer Franks was no stranger to me. He was an upstanding member of the SFPD with nothing but disdain for a certain private detective of whom he thought was not a “real” detective at all.
“Well, what can I do for an officer of one of San Francisco’s finest?”
“I’ll get right down to the point, Klein. We need your help.” He flinched at this last part as if it physically pained him to say.
“You’ve caught my interest. Have a seat and we’ll talk.” I motioned to the chair in front of the desk.
“I prefer to stand,” said Franks putting his hands tentatively on the back of the chair. He was a big man who seemed to fill most of the room but he also moved with the clumsiness of someone who was too big for their own good. I took a seat and leaned back nonchalantly.
“Well,” I said, “let’s hear it.”
“A few weeks ago two inmates escaped from Alcatraz.”
“Escaping from The Rock isn’t any small thing. How’d they do it?” I turned and looked out at the bay. I could faintly make out the dim pulse of the lighthouse on the small island in the middle of the bay.
“That’s just the thing. We can’t figure it out.”
“A couple of guys escape from prison and you can’t figure out how they did it?” I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
“Not so fast, pal. You haven’t heard the half of it. They’ve escaped as in they’re gone and we don’t know where. There’s not an ounce of evidence in their cells. No bars filed through or bent. No marks on walls. It’s like they just disappeared.”
“Now, that is interesting. Still, why come to me?”
“We’re desperate.” Again he flinched. “The possibility that two violent criminals have escaped to San Francisco or somewhere nearby has put this under our jurisdiction but we haven’t turned up a single lead so now the FBI wants to step in and take over the investigation. I can tell you that we hate the feds breathing down our necks.”
“Oh course you do, just like I hate you breathing down my neck.” I didn’t see any reason not to poke a little fun at the detective now that he was at my mercy. Franks’ face was turning red and when he spoke his voice was just a little louder.
“My superiors think that someone from outside might be able to get some information out of the prisoners that they won’t tell to the police. Of course, I told ‘em it was a terrible idea, but like I said before we’re fresh out of leads.”
“I think I’m just about ready to take this case. Just one more question. Why’d they send you to talk to me?”
“Out of everyone on this case I was considered…” Franks gave a sigh of defeat,
“…Closest to you.”
“Well ain’t that funny. You an me we’re just like brothers, right?”
“Don’t push it, Klein. Well, you going to take this case or what?”
“You’ve piqued my interest.”
“Well then, come down to the station tomorrow and I’ll fill you in on what we have.” He opened the door to leave but as he was stepping out he turned. “Oh, one more thing, Klein. I’ll be keeping my eye on you for this entire investigation.”
“I only hope a common private investigator like myself can live up to the high expectations of the San Francisco Police Department.” With that, Detective Franks was gone.
I put out my cigarette and turned back to the window. It was getting late and by now the fog was comfortably sitting over the bay but I could still make out the Alcatraz’s lighthouse. I didn’t like the idea of working with the Detective on this case but work was work and I badly needed it.
***
The next day, I found myself standing on a pier looking out towards the island prison. Detective Franks had filled me in on some of the details. The two missing convicts were Joe Torrio and Charlie Strauss. Strauss had been arrested after a botched bank robbery. He shot two cops before they got him; lucky for him they didn’t die and he got of with life on The Rock. Torrio was suspected of having ties to the mob and had been put away for counterfeiting, racketeering and being an overall slime ball. Franks stood a few feet away talking to some other cops. Between the scowl on his face and the sideways glances towards me I got the idea about their conversation. We were waiting for the police boat that would take us out to the island.
Our trip across the Bay was uneventful. It was a nice day in San Francisco and the water was calm. Alcatraz was coming into plain view, not much more than rocky scrublands with a scattering of buildings. On arrival Franks and I were escorted from the dock to the warden’s house where Franks was to meet with the warden. An honor that I was apparently not worthy of. Franks told me to stay close by but I decided instead to give myself a tour of the island.
I walked along the cell house and the past the industries buildings where prisoners spent their time doing manual labor. Wood, metalworking, tailoring and laundry. Passing by the fenced recreation yard where I saw a group of guards standing around something on the beach. Beach was the wrong word; it was more of a rocky slope down to the water. I made my way down to them, showed them my PI’s license and told them I was there with the authorization of the SFPD.
“So, what do you boys have here?” I asked.
“I think it’s part of a raft. It just washed up.”
“A raft, huh?”
“Looks like army surplus. This was a military base. You think this is how they got off the island?”
“Too early to tell.”
“Klein!” I turned around to see Detective Franks coming over the ridge. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Get up here!”
I ascended the hill at a leisurely pace just slow enough to make Franks impatient. I wasn’t some police grunt and I didn’t like taking orders from him.
“Klein, this is serious. We may have to call off the investigation temporarily.”
“Is that so?” I straightened my hat. The wind was picking up and it looked like the fog was about to move in.
“According to the warden, they’re just apprehended an inmate planning to start a riot.”
“That’s very interesting. Why stop the investigation?”
“C’mon, pal. These guys are sitting on a time bomb. It might be too late to stop the riot.”
“Nonsense, this might be just the lead your investigation needs. Let’s go see this riot conspirator.”
***
The guy accused of trying to incite a riot was just a kid, Thomas North. He wasn’t much more than a common thief who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were holding him in a small room for questioning. I went into the room alone despite fierce protest from Franks. The kid sat on one side of a table, looking around the room as if he was bored. He looked up as I entered. I sat down and offered him a cigarette. He shook his head so I got one out for myself and lit it.
“Kid, you must have a lot of guts to plan a riot.”
“You don’t have any proof I planned nothin’, except for the word of few criminals who for all you know could be lying.”
“The numbers are against you, they’ve got four other inmates who’ve fingered you.”
“You a cop?”
“Nah, I’m a private investigator. The name’s Jonathan Klein.” A small sneer crossed the kid’s face. “Why did you plan a riot?”
“I’m just a victim of circumstance. I ain’t done nothing wrong; how about you put in a good word for me, an innocent man. Then maybe I’ll talk.”
I grabbed the little punk by the shirt and hit him across the face with the butt of my gun. Not hard enough to cause any serious damage but just hard enough to let him know who was in charge.
“I don’t have time for this. I’m going to ask you again; why did you plan it? I want the truth or I’ll make sure you’re in here for a lot longer.” Most of the cockiness in his face was gone.
“Someone put me up to it. Said if I did this he could get me out sooner. Even gave me money. I’ve been hiding it in my cell…”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Who exactly was the person who wanted you to do this?”
“Alright, I’ll tell you and I swear this is the truth. It was a guard. A guard made me the offer.”
“A guard? Do you know his name?”
“No, never even saw his face.”
“Alright, take care kid.”
I got up and went out the door. Franks was waiting for me outside.
“Well, Klein, what did you get out of him?”
“I need all the profiles of the guards.”
“Why? Just what are you getting at Klein?”
“We’re looking for a guard. He’s the key to this.”
“What did that kid tell you? We already checked into all the guards and they have to be background checked to get the job.” Franks’ face turned red. I pushed past him towards the main offices.
It wasn’t far to but by the time I got there things were starting to get serious. A siren was blaring. Apparently there was a full-blown riot was going on. Franks was right behind me growing something under his breath. I asked the person for the files on all the guards.
“You can go on this wild goose chase, Klein, but I’m going to find out what’s happening.”
With Franks out of the way I could concentrate on the guard profiles. I looked through them one by one. It didn’t seem like I’d find anything but then there it was staring me right in the face. The file of a guard named Robert Torrio. Torrio, the same name as Joe Torrio, one of the escapees.
“Franks, take a look at this,” I said, waving the file at him. Franks had been talking to one of the guard captains and now came over to me.
“Take a look at this. Notice the last name. I don’t believe it’s mere coincidence.”
“Like I told you before, Klein, we already background checked the guards. We started with this guy. He checked out.”
“What did you find out?”
“The riot is centered around the industries buildings. Some inmates are using some of the tools as makeshift weapons. A few guards have already been injured.” How was this all related, I thought. Then I hit me.
“Is there anyone watching the boat we came here on?”
“Uh, no. Everyone able has been sent to put down the riot. That includes my men on the boat.”
“Follow me,” I said, drawing my gun from my coat.
“You better be right about this one, Klein.”
Out of the administration offices and down the service road to the dock. The sun was setting and everything had a red-orange glow. Smoke was rising from the other side of the island and I could hear shots being fired. Franks had drawn his pistol and was right behind me. As the dock came into view I saw them. There were three men on the dock heading toward the police boat. As we approached the largest of the three men, whom I presumed was Charlie Strauss, saw us and began shooting at us. He had a rifle normally carried by the guards. Franks and I took cover behind the watchtower overlooking the dock. Unfortunately it was unmanned. The guards had been sent to assist with the riot. Strauss continued firing.
“Klein, cover me. I’ll get to the boat!” Klein yelled as bullets ricocheted off the metal frame of the watchtower. I nodded. As soon as there was a break in the fire we moved out in the open. Franks ran around one side of the dock. I took aim at Strauss who was reloading. He raised the rifle preparing to shoot. I fired several shots. Strauss stumbled backward and fell into off the dock into the water. I ran after Franks, who had reached the boat.
***
“It looks like Joe and Robert Torrio are brothers. Robert had false documents for almost everything, place of birth, parents, everything.”
“But he didn’t bother changing his name,” I said. The sun had gone down. Franks and I stood on the dock looking into the dark water. We had apprehended the Torrio brothers fairly easily. They were unarmed, trying to hotwire the boat. Strauss was dead.
“He was apparently hiding his brother and Strauss in a crawlspace in the guards barracks,” said Franks. “The riot’s over. A few inmates were shot and the rest are in solitary confinement. It was all supposed to be a diversion so that they could escape.”
“Hm,” I said, looking out
towards San Francisco. Against all odds there was no fog and I had a clear
view of San Francisco. I looked out towards the twinkling cityscape as the
waters of the Bay lapped against the dock.