the Game
Magge Caldwell has a problem. She thinks that she may have a stalker. The Police are no help. Just another paranoid young girl on her own and away from home for the first time. When Maggie's stalker..
RAIN TRICKLED DOWN the sides of the buildings; light reflected off the damp pavement from street lamps, casting shadows that made the night claustrophobic. The sign for the Crooked Barrel, nestled in the industrial part of the city, shone like a beacon. Maggie Caldwell stepped inside. The place was a mixture of business types and desperate souls; of hipsters and influencers. The air, thick with whiskey and anticipation, was perfect for her to blend in. She made her way through the crowd and slid into a just-vacated booth. Half-finished drinks still covered the table. More cover. Maggie took off her coat, untying her long, dark hair, which fell over her shoulders like a curtain shielding her face. She grabbed one of the abandoned drinks, sniffed it to get an idea of what it might be—Gin—then downed the remains of the glass.
She surveyed her surroundings. Not like she expected anyone there to know who she was. Maggie wanted a lay of the land. And to be certain that the man that was following her didn’t make an unnoticed appearance. For the moment, she was safe. During the overview of the bar, Maggie spied a payphone along the wall that led to the bathrooms. She turned back to her coat, and from the pocket, pulled out a business card that read in large type: Harvey Mann. Below that in smaller type: investigations, and below that a telephone number.
Maggie ordered a gin and tonic from the waitress that came over to clear the empty and half filled drinks then made her way to the phone on the wall. The automatic voice told her how much she needed to deposit for the call and listened to the beeping sound from the receiver.
A gruff voice answered, “Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Harvey Mann.”
“You got him, doll.”
“Can you come to the Crooked Barrel on Fulton Street?”
“Possibly.”
“I got your card from Vickey Baker. She said you’re the person to call if I am in trouble.”
“I take it you’re in trouble.”
“Very much.”
“Be there in thirty. I’ll be the guy in the leather sports coat that sticks out.”
The line disconnected.
Maggie settled into her booth with a fresh drink and waited.
******
HARVEY MANN SAT up in bed. The clock on the nightstand read quarter past midnight. So much for a decent night’s sleep. After ten days of sleeplessness gathering dirt on a philandering city councilman, he was looking forward to a few days’ rest. But her call sounded desperate, and Harvey knew only desperate people call after midnight.
The Market District was on the rise. New bars, restaurants, and nightclubs were popping up every week, giving the area a new lease on life. The Crooked Barrel was one of them. However, it wasn’t the first bar to call that location home. It had replaced Tucker’s Pub, which used to serve the working class when the Market District was still a hub of warehouses and distribution centers.
Even though it had rained most of the day, it did nothing to deter people from venturing out—that was life in the city. Thankfully, it had finally stopped by the time Harvey appeared at the Crooked Barrel. He pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to the bar, and ordered a beer. Harvey took a quick glance around, then walked casually to the edge, where the booths were usually located. If his mysterious caller was in trouble, then he doubted that she’d be sitting in the middle of the room. She would want a good place to look over the bar, the people in it. Movement caught Harvey’s attention. A quick wave from one booth along the wall near the corner. He made one more pass around, then sat across from her.
“You were right. You stick out in a place like this.”
“Only when I want to. So, what’s your name?”
“Maggie. Maggie Caldwell.”
“What seems to be the problem, Maggie?”
“I think someone is trying to kill me.”
******
THE ROOM WAS white. White walls. White ceiling. A stark contrast to the rainy gloom outside the windows. Maggie sat wearing a silk robe in front of a large mirror—with more white lights—as the make-up artist applied her artistic craft to her face as the photographer assistants set up the umbrellas and softboxes for their master. Heart and Soul by T’Pau played in the background.
“What’s the matter?” Vickey Baker asked. “You seem tense today. You’re not worried about being shot by Rampling, are you? He’s really not as bad as they say.”
Maggie cracked a smile, then chuckled. “Vick, he’s exactly as they say, but no, he’s not the problem.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. I feel... feel that someone has been following me.”
“Like a stalker?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve been getting weird rings on my bell to my apartment, and things have been moved around the little courtyard that I have.”
Vickey stopped what she was doing. Looking concerned. “That’s not good, honey. There’s been a rash of attacks on women around the city. I even heard that one model from the CBA Agency got slashed in the face.”
“That’s terrible.”
“You call the police?”
Maggie sighed. “Yeah. But they weren’t very helpful. Without some sort of proof other than my belief that things were messed with, they basically brushed me as a paranoid female living alone.”
Vickey turned Maggie’s chair to face the mirror. “What do you think?”
“Stunning, as always, Vick. Stunning, as always.”
The photographer Rampling appeared in the mirror over Vickey’s shoulder. “Great. Fantastic. You’ve been to wardrobe, I take it? See what you’ll be wearing?”
“Of course.”
“Great. Fantastic. Be ready in ten.” Rampling moved off, directing his attention now to his assistants.
“Wearing? If you can call it that,” said Vickey. Then the two of them shared a laugh. “Listen, Mags, I’m going to put a card in your coat. If you think that you’re in any trouble, call him. He’s a good guy. Rough around the edges, but he helped me out a while back.”
“Thanks, Vick.” Maggie got up from the chair and headed to wardrobe to get ready.
Three outfit changes and four hours later, Maggie had shed her model mask from the photoshoot. Face scrubbed clean and feeling fresh but worn out, Maggie was back in street clothes and stepped out into the steady drizzle the day’s rain had become. Making traveling around the city a bit more difficult and bothersome. Thoughts of a warm bath and a glass of wine filled Maggie’s mind as she walked towards the end of the block. In search of a cab. The only thing standing in the way of that was food. Maggie was starving from model masochism. She feared looking bloated for the shoot. And Rampling was a notorious body shamer when it didn’t have the desired look he was after. But he was one of the top fashion photographers producing work, and with him, shooting her for this ad campaign was going to push her career to the next level.
The cab picked her up at the corners of Webster, Lincoln and Larrabee, the three streets crossing paths kitty corner from Oz park and the famous statue of the Tin Man from ‘Wizard of Oz.’ “Where too?” Maggie thought for a moment. What did she have a taste for? Thai? There was a great place close to her apartment.
An hour later, hunger sated. Drained from the day, the short walk from the restaurant to home felt long and monumental. With her thoughts now turning from a lazy bath to the comfort of bed. Maggie was scarcely through the door when she knew something was amiss. She just wasn’t sure what it could be? Was that light on when she left that morning? Were there dishes still left in the sink? Maybe it was just exhaustion speaking. But she had to admit a presence felt.
An icy sensation fell over Maggie as she entered her bedroom. The jolting shock made her fully aware that someone had either been there or was still. Laid out on the bed, waiting patiently; a set of lacy lingerie sat atop the bed when she turned on the light. Maggie wasted no time in trying to figure out what was going on. The earlier conversation with Vicky about the model being attacked, now front and center.
Back on the street. Heart racing. What was she going to do? Where to go? Should she go to the police? They were little help the first time. So what? Maggie placed her hands in the pockets of her coat. Trying to make herself inconspicuous, and felt the business card that Vickey had given her. Yes, that was the answer. First she had to get some place safe. Up the way, a CTA bus was approaching and Maggie turned towards the street and flagged it down. The bus itself was moderately full. Maggie tried to make any eye contact as brief as possible. A quarter of a second, the only violation she allowed.
Maggie watched people come and go from the bus. Could one of them be the person stalking her? But nobody gave her a second look. Not like they even knew she jumped on the passing CTA and if they did, did they have time to get ahead of it to get on themselves? That would take a vehicle of some sort, and if that was the case, then there was no need to get on the bus. They could follow it until they witnessed her exit. Maggie’s thoughts turned to the lingerie laid out on the bed. What was the plan there? Nothing good. That’s for sure. It made her head hurt.
After an hour, she got off. Maggie wasn’t a hundred percent sure where she was, but after a quick glance at the industrial style buildings, she was sure it was the Market district. Maggie walked quickly, deciding where to go when she saw a neon sign at the corner beckon.
******
HARVEY TURNED, called the waitress, and ordered another round of drinks. “What do you think?” asked Maggie. Harvey was quiet a moment, then asked, “Boyfriend?”
“No. We broke up six months ago.”
“Why?”
“You know how it goes with long-distance relationships.”
“So he wasn’t from here? Didn’t live with you?”
“No. He stayed back in Oklahoma. That’s where I’m from.”
“How did he take it? Bad?”
“It wasn’t great. If you think it’s him, it’s not. Elliott isn’t like that.”
Harvey chuckled. “You’d be surprised.” He waved off the comment she was about to make. “So what about afterwards? No boyfriends here? Sugar Daddies? One-night stands that got too clingy?”
“I mean, I’ve dated a little. And… And, well, a girl has needs.”
“Hey. I don’t judge and I don’t care if you sleep with ten people a week. I’m just trying to develop a pattern of suspects.”
“Well, I definitely don’t sleep with ten people a week. I’m lucky if I go on a date once or twice a month. Modeling keeps me busy. Especially lately.”
“Alright. Apart from the one model that was attacked, you don’t suspect anyone in particular?”
“No. I’m completely in the dark. And that scares me even more.”
“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem.” Harvey downed the rest of his beer. “How about this: Let me drive you home, examine your surroundings, and ensure everything is securely locked up nice and tight. Tomorrow, I can reach out to my contacts with PD about the case of the attacked model to identify any connections between you and any other individuals.”
Harvey led the way around the corner to where he parked. “Nice car,” Maggie said as he unlocked the passenger door. “Thanks. ‘77 Oldsmobile 442.” The car shimmered as the light of the street lamps reflected off the liquid sheen that covered it.
The ride back to Maggie’s apartment was far swifter than the bus ride earlier. The streets were quiet. Almost eerily so. Mostly because of the lateness of the hour. “How many flats are there?” Harvey asked, pausing at the door.
“Three. each has its own entrance. Mine is on the first floor.”
“Nice. You keep a spare key hidden by chance?”
A flicker of concern crossed Maggie’s face. “Yes—under a rock behind the flowers.” She gestured toward the rosebush, moving aside a branch. “That one.”
Harvey leaned closer, flipping over the rock to reveal a silver key nestled in the dirt. “Let’s avoid that in the future, shall we?”
“I never gave it a second thought. My parents did the same thing back home.”
Harvey used the key to unlock the door. Maggie followed him inside. The lights from earlier were still on. Giving the scene a familiar lived in look. Harvey almost expected someone to come around the corner saying: “Oh, you’re finally home.” They moved deeper inside. “My bedroom is just down the hall,” Maggie said, pointing toward a small corridor leading to a partially open door.
Harvey went to the door and pushed it slowly open. Then cautiously stepped inside. After a moment, Maggie hears him say, “Clear.”
“What the fuck!” she said, entering the room. Eyes widening in disbelief.
“What’s the matter?”
“The lingerie. It’s gone.” She pointed towards the bed. “It was sitting right on top of the covers.”
“Lucky you left when you did.”
“Holy shit.” Maggie sank onto the bed, her mind racing as they both grappled with the implications of what had just transpired.
“You sure you don’t want to call the cops?”
“I don’t know. What do you think they’ll do?”
Harvey moved around the room slowly. Taking in the scene. “To be honest—” He paused by the closet door. Then continued, “To be honest, probably nothing. Just a report. But sometimes that helps.”
“Okay, I guess.”
Harvey took Maggie’s arm and gently lifted her off the bed and they both moved towards the door. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go grab a friend of mine.”
“Sure. I guess,” Maggie said, feeling confused as they left the bedroom.
After a few moments of silence, the closet door creaked slowly open, revealing a figure inside. Casting a quick glance around the room, the figure moved swiftly towards the hallway that led to the living room, where a sudden forceful grip seized their arm, launching them violently to the ground. An oppressive weight of a knee pressed firmly into their back, pinning both the arm and person to the ground. Harvey smashed the barrel of his Colt 911 into their cheek as an exclamation point.
“And who do we have here?”
“Oh, my god! Elliott!”
“Elliott? As in the boyfriend in Oklahoma? The one you said wasn’t a problem?” Harvey removed his gun from Elliott’s cheek.
Maggie looked down at the pair. All she could say was, “Yeah. That Elliott.”
Elliott tried in vain to struggle out from underneath Harvey, who had him pinned down nicely.
“Okay. This is how it’s going to go,” Harvey said to his prisoner, “we’re both going to get up nice and slow. Any sudden movements or you try to be stupid and I’m going to hit you in the back of the head. Understand?”
“Ge—Get off—me.”
“Do. We. Understand?”
“Ye—Yes. Yes, I understand.”
Harvey holstered his weapon back behind his back and then slowly removed his weight, then his knee. But kept Elliott’s arm bent behind him. He then placed his free hand on Elliott’s shoulder and, in one rapid move pulled him to his feet.
“Jesus, Elliott. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here because of you. Hoping you came to your senses, but I see I was easily replaced.”
“It’s not what you think, sunshine,” Harvey said. “I’m here because you’ve been stalking around and don’t understand when it’s over, it’s over.” Harvey turned to Maggie. “What do you want to do with him? Call the cops?” Maggie shook her head no. “Then what?”
“I—I don’t know.” She paused a moment, then said, “Elliott, you need to go. Go home. I’m sorry, but you and I know this won’t work. I love you. I really do. But I’m not in love with you. Understand?”
Elliott rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” Then under his breath, “Bitch.”
Harvey bent Elliott’s arm a little harder. “Be nice.” To Maggie, “You sure you don’t want the cops?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Don’t worry, dude,” Elliott chimed in, “I got the message. You can keep her.”
“Like I said before, Sunshine, it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah. Whatever you say. You gonna let me go now?”
Harvey looked to Maggie, who nodded her head. Elliott massaged his arm once it was free. “Think it’s time for us to go,” Harvey said. Harvey guided Elliott towards the door and told Maggie he’d be back. “Where are you taking me?” Elliott asked once they got to the car.
“You and I are going to go for a little ride and I’m going to explain how things are going to work, then you’ll get on a bus and be gone.”
They rode in silence at first. Then, “I thought you were going to explain things,” Elliott said once the silence got to him.
“I figured you were big boy enough to figure it out all by yourself, but okay: Elliott, your relationship is over. It sucks, I know, but it’s just something you are going to have to accept.”
“Yeah, I get the picture. Maggie’s moved on. I just thought—I just didn’t think it would be so easy, you know. Fuck. We’ve only been ‘officially’ broken up for a weeks—”
“Few weeks? She made it sound like it was a lot longer.”
“Well, I guess in her mind. We separated but not broken up. I thought we could work it out. Hell, I was even saving money to move here. But this stupid fucking modeling thing just kept getting in the way.” Harvey just sat, drove, and listened. He knew well enough that Elliott needed to talk it all out. Remembering his age. But then it was a different time, and he was in a different place. Boot camp, then the military saw something in him and they sent him to college before being deployed to Vietnam like most of the others in his class who all went straight in-country. “Or at least Maggie said it was the modeling that kept her too busy. Too distracted from working on us. But I saw what was really going on. A few times after we ‘separated’,”—Harvey had to keep himself from laughing as Elliott said this as sarcastic as he could—”but when I would show up at her place when she was supposedly working there was always some dude hanging around. He even answered the door once when I rang the bell.”
“Really? Maggie told me she wasn’t dating anybody.”
“She told me the same thing…”
“Yeah. Maybe. But why lie to me?”
“Perhaps this is what she wanted. Have her big bad boyfriend show me the door. Put the fear in me. Yada. Yada. Yada.”
Harvey laughed. “You watch too many TV shows, kid. It ain’t like that. Besides, if you saw the guy she’s supposed to be dating, you know I’m not that guy.”
“I don’t know.” Elliott sighed. “I just figured you were the new guy. Maybe Maggie moved on to sugar daddy, but you don’t look like a rich guy—”
“Gee thanks.”
“—I’m just saying you look like a working class guy and not one of the Hollywood looking dudes. Ya know, like that stupid Richard Gere movie. Hell, she’s probably playing you too. Maggie should go into acting.”
Harvey rolled to a stop at the front of the bus terminal on Harrison. “Here we are, kid. Take my advice and move on. Because it sounds like you have it all figured out and that Maggie already has.”
“Don’t worry dude. I got the picture. Four years down the drain.”
“You’re like what? Twenty? Call it a learning experience.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Elliott got out of the car and disappeared into the night.
Harvey reflected on everything the kid said. Maybe he was being played to scare the kid off, but why? And when he met her at the bar, she seemed genuinely upset and scared. Then there was the whole lingerie thing. He meant to ask, but Elliott kept rambling on until he finally figured out the picture in his mind wasn’t the real thing.
Harvey parked in the same spot he vacated an hour earlier. Something felt off as he approached the door to Maggie’s apartment. The door wasn’t closed all the way. From the street it appeared shut, but as he got closer, saw that it was just open enough that he could give a little push and swing it wide.
“Maggie?” Harvey pulled out his gun as he entered. All the lights were on. The same way when he had left. “Hey, Maggie? It’s Harvey Mann.” Harvey could see as he moved further inside that the living room was in complete disarray. In the middle, lying on the floor, the body of a dark-haired girl. The phone started ringing, giving the scene a macabre heartbeat. Maggy lay on her side, blood pulled and soaked into the carpet around her head. The answering machine kicked in. Maggie’s disembodied voice filled the room as Harvey bent down and pulled back the hair covering the damage to Maggie’s face and head. Revealing the brutal beating it took. Disfiguring the once beautiful features of an up-and-coming model. “Hi. This is Maggie Caldwell. I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name, the time you called and a short message, I will get back to you as soon as possible—” That wasn’t happening, Harvey thought “—thanks and have a great day.” The machine beeped, replaced by a new voice. “Mr. Mann. Please pick up. I know you are there and there is so much I like to discuss.”
Harvey pulled the receiver from its cradle. The little tape continued to whirl around its loops. “You have me at a disadvantage,” Harvey said. “I have you at a number of disadvantages, Mr. Mann. But let’s assume you are referring to how do I know who you are and that you are there now.” Harvey stayed quiet. Instead, strained his ears to hear what was going around the voice. Trying to figure out where they were. Obviously, they were some place close. Watched as he entered the apartment to time him to find Maggie’s lifeless form and his dramatic little performance of the phone call. “I have to say how impressed I was by the way you handled that boy. He never stood a chance.” Harvey’s blood turned cold. For him to know that they had to be in the apartment as well. He was so focused on Elliott when he heard him move around inside the closet, he never checked the rest of the rooms and hiding spots. His fuck up cost Maggie her life. “Tell you what,” Harvey said, trying to stay as calm as he could as he spoke. But it was hard to keep the menace from his voice. “Why don’t you tell me where you’re at and I can impress you some more.” The voice on the other end laughed. “I am sure. All in good time. You have entered my game. Disrupted the flow I had by taking poor heart sick Elliott out of the game. What did you do to him? I hope you did not hurt him too badly.” “I dropped him off at the station to give my buddies over there a detailed description of you.” More laughter. Then, “You are so quick on your feet, Mr. Mann, you did not even miss a beat.”
Harvey wished he had grabbed the cordless phone. That way, he could move to the windows and try to get a bird’s eye view. He knew he was on a payphone. But which one and which side of the block? Harvey called up a memory map of the area and realized that probably wasn’t the case. He could think of only one with somewhat of a view of where he was, but as Harvey thought about it, he concluded that his caller may in fact be in one of the apartments across the street. That would make the most sense.
“You are going to make this game so much more fun.”
“Game? Sorry, but I’m not playing in your game.”
“But you already are, Mr. Mann. You have already replaced Elliott, who I had planned to take the fall. I mean, it is the same old sad story of love gone wrong and ends in murder. It is a tale as old as time itself.”
“Yes. Very cliche. But that doesn’t explain how I’m now in your stupid game.”
“Oh, you will see, Mr. Mann. You will see. Until next time.”
Harvey got a bad feeling when the call disconnected. A feeling that perhaps he should leave as soon as possible. But that meant giving up on gathering any evidence, but then—
Harvey knew he was fucked even before he got to the door. The front windows started to flash with twirling red lights. “Hold it right there,” someone said as he walked out the door. “Put your hands up and place them against the wall.”
“Fuck.”