The Undertaker

I set the tray outside in the corridor and we lay in the lower bunk wrapped around each other for the rest of the morning. It had been a long, painful time since I felt this close to anyone, to someone who I knew needed me as much as I need her.

“You don't suppose this whole thing is just a big adrenalin rush after the Dan Ryan, do you,” I asked as I drew lazy circles on her back with my finger.

“I don't care what it is. I'm not moving… well, except maybe to do that.”

“It's almost 11:00. That stop in Albany is coming up and we need to call Hardin.”

“You'd rather do that than lay here with me like this, stark naked?”

“No, but we can come back and you can have me for the whole afternoon.”

“That's what all the boys say.”

The train rolled on through the beautiful, wooded and hilly upper New York countryside as we got dressed. Sandy gave her head a violent shake and scratched her head wildly with both hands for a few seconds, sending her hair scattering in every direction. She gave it two or three pats to push down the worst parts. “There!” she said. “I'm ready.”

The Albany station was in the lower part of downtown. We looked through the windows but didn't see any cops, strange sedans, or guys in suits and sunglasses, so we got off train and found two pay phones inside the station. I dropped in a couple of quarter and called Senator Hardin's office. As they connected us, I handed Sandy the phone. “You're good at this, get him on the line,” I said.

“Hi,” she said in a bubbly voice into the phone. “Is the Senator in?... I'm sure he is. Tell him Sandy Kasmarek, the cute little butt in the blue silk dress who worked for him in Chicago, is on the phone, and she's pregnant.” She looked up at me and winked. “You still won't interrupt him? Okay, okay, then tell him Peter Talbott is standing next to me… Ah! That name he does know. Yeah, honey, I'll wait… and I was just kidding about the pregnant part... Yeah, I know you knew.” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to me, “When ya gets 'em down, ya pounds lumps on 'em,”

“Who told you that? Bobby McNally?”

“No, Father Tony.” She turned back to the phone. “Hi, Tim, you too... Well, we've been kinda busy. There aren't too many phones out here in the woods.” She rolled her eyes back and forth, mocking him. “The stories in the newspapers? I didn't know we were such celebrities... And you got the overnight package? Good… Yeah, he's standing right here… No, no problem, here he is,” she said as she handed me the phone.

“Senator, good to talk to you,” I said. “Did you look those papers over?”

“I sure did, Pete — may I call you Pete? -– and I interviewed that fat creep Panozzo long enough to know that stuff you sent me is real.”

“Good, because I've got two more drives full of that stuff. One must have a hundred other syndicate-front businesses on it. The other has all the payoffs to cops and politicians, the overseas investments, foreign bank accounts, all of that stuff.”

Hardin went silent for a moment. “Two more drives of that stuff, huh? And all the payoffs. Well, that's dynamite, Pete, absolute dynamite. But those notes of yours about Ralph Tinkerton and those people in Ohio…”

“I can prove it, Senator. Every word.”

“You can, huh? Where are you? We need to get you off the street.”

“Tennessee at the moment, but we're headed your way.”

“Look, Pete, you're in real danger. I can have some people…”

“You have enough to do with what I already sent you. Check out those names, the death certificates, and the graves in Columbus. I'll call you in a day or two, when we get to Washington. Ciao.” I hung up on him. Hardin? The left half of my brain trusted him, because he was a U. S. Senator and because we didn't have very many other options. But, the right half told me I'd be a fool to bet my life on any Washington politician.

I saw Philip again as we got back on the train and had him bring us some lunch, then we locked ourselves in the compartment. Like Sandy said earlier, all that lovin’ stuff burns a lot of calories. That it did. After we ate, I folded the upper bunk up into the wall and lay down on the lower with my clothes on.

Sandy stripped down to her underwear again and looked down at me. “You don't want a bunch of ugly wrinkles in those new clothes now, do you?” she scrunched up her nose and slowly slipped out of the underwear too. I shook my head and started to get undressed, but she pushed my hands away. “No,” she said. “It's my turn.” She slipped out of her bra and panties and with tantalizing slowness, undressed me. Then she pushed me down on the bunk and we made love again. Afterward, she rolled over, put her head on my chest, and we both fell into a deep sleep.

It was 3:00 when Sandy yawned and stretched, supple and sensuous like a big cat unwinding from a long nap. “How long until we get to Boston?” she asked.

“Two, maybe three hours.”

“You're kidding. I must have dozed off.”

“Dozed? Yeah, that was what it was. I'll take the first shower,” I said as I started to roll over her and get up.