PART TWO OF THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS!

　

Not far uptown, on River Street between several closed shops, a bar named Maxie’s lit the street with its blinking neon lights in the window and a large garish neon sign up the front of the building.

Inside the clink of glasses and the sounds of a piano playing ragtime. The air in the bar was full of tobacco smoke and the smell of stale beer. The floor was covered with sawdust.

And Santa walked in.

“Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas,” as he walked over to the bar.

Tending the bar was ‘Big Mike’ O’Shea. Fairly tall with a red handlebar mustache covering most of his face below his large nose. He was wearing a red shirt and green pants with green suspenders. His arms were bigger than most men’s thighs and his chest looked like it was made of flat rocks.

“Well, hello there Santa,“ O’Shea says in an Irish brogue. “And what might I be doing for you now?”Well, hello there Santa,“ O’Shea says in an Irish brogue. “And what might I be doing for you now?”

“Well Michael McShamy, how about a glass of milk?”Well Michael McShamy, how about a glass of milk?”

O’Shea’s face turned red when he got his Irish up, and it was turning red now, “how do call me that? Only my maw called me that and … ““how do call me that? Only my maw called me that and … “

“Your mother called you that when you’d just done something naughty, Michael. And she called you that quite frequently, didn’t she?”Your mother called you that when you’d just done something naughty, Michael. And she called you that quite frequently, didn’t she?”

“How do you know what she called me?,“ and ‘Big Mike’ reached across the bar to grab Santa’s collar, but found his hand stopped cold and locked in a grip of iron, while Santa stood there as if playing with a baby.

In a whisper, “I see you when you’re sleeping and I see you when you’re awake. I know when you’ve been bad or good. Now tell me, Michael, has Tony Minetti been here tonight?”How do you know what she called me?,“ and ‘Big Mike’ reached across the bar to grab Santa’s collar, but found his hand stopped cold and locked in a grip of iron, while Santa stood there as if playing with a baby.

O’Shea’s face now turned white. Looking around the bar to see if anyone had heard.

In a soft voice, “Minetti? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”“Minetti? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Michael McShamy, you can’t lie to me. Now, why don’t you tell me what I want to know before I tell everyone in this bar some of the things you’ve been up to? Like talking to the police about the bank job last week and how everyone from that caper got caught. From the police perspective that was a nice thing. From the perspective of the people here, they might consider it naughty.”Michael McShamy, you can’t lie to me. Now, why don’t you tell me what I want to know before I tell everyone in this bar some of the things you’ve been up to? Like talking to the police about the bank job last week and how everyone from that caper got caught. From the police perspective that was a nice thing. From the perspective of the people here, they might consider it naughty.”

If it was possible, Big Mike’s face turned even whiter, “How do you know … OK OK.” Looking around again, Big Mike move closer to Santa, “he was here earlier today. He was meeting with Joey Kucinski and Al Browning. They was in the last booth over there. They left about 3 hours ago. That’s all I know.”“How do you know … OK OK.” Looking around again, Big Mike move closer to Santa, “he was here earlier today. He was meeting with Joey Kucinski and Al Browning. They was in the last booth over there. They left about 3 hours ago. That’s all I know.”

“OK Michael. Who was serving them? Was anyone else here when they were?”OK Michael. Who was serving them? Was anyone else here when they were?”

“Moira was serving them. She’s still here, serving a party in the back room. Alphie Jenkins was here then, and he’s still here somewhere.”Moira was serving them. She’s still here, serving a party in the back room. Alphie Jenkins was here then, and he’s still here somewhere.”

“Thank you Michael. Now that’s being nice. Here, have a candy cane. Merry Christmas!”Thank you Michael. Now that’s being nice. Here, have a candy cane. Merry Christmas!”

The man dressed in red takes a swallow of his milk, and holding the glass, walks toward the back room.

Entering the room he sees several men around a table drinking and eating. The only woman in the room was Moira O’Shawnesy, busty, pretty, in her mid-20s, with long red hair, holding a serving tray, placing large pitchers of beer on the table and taking the empty ones.

“Hey, what are you doin’? This is a private party pal!”

“Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas to you all. Sorry to interrupt, I just want to speak to Moira for a moment.

Moira walks over, “how can I help you … Santa?”“how can I help you … Santa?”

Santa pulls her over to a corner and whispers to her, “well, Moira, I understand you were serving three men earlier today. One of them was Tony Minetti. Did you get close enough to hear what they were saying?”

“I I I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered. Then she looks at the man with the white beard, and slyly says, “besides. If you’re really Santa Claus, shouldn’t you know what they said?”I I I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered. Then she looks at the man with the white beard, and slyly says, “besides. If you’re really Santa Claus, shouldn’t you know what they said?”

“Well Moira, it’s Christmas Eve and I’ve been busy tonight. I haven’t had time to keep tabs on who’s been naughty and who’s been nice this evening. So, I need some help from others. I know you’ve been a good girl this year, and I think you’d like to help me keep tabs on Tony. I know how he hurt your brother, and how you’re taking care of him. It’s why you’re working here on Christmas Eve instead of being with him and your year old baby. Here’s something that can help.”

He places a couple of greenbacks in her hand.

“How did you know about that? No one knows…”

“Will you help me Moira?”

Whispering, “I can’t tell you much, but, yes, Minetti was here. They shut up every time I went over to their table. But, I did see Alphie Jenkins sitting close by and it looked like he was listening to what they were saying.”

“Thank you Moira.”

Turning around, “Ho ho ho. Again Merry Christmas to you,” and placing his glass of milk on Moira’s tray, walks out.”

One of the men at the table turns to Moira and asks, “Hey, Moira, what’d he want?”

Moira gave him a crooked grin, “He was complaining the milk was sour. What does he expect in a bar, straight from the cow?”

“Haw haw haw, complaining about the milk at Maxie’s, haw haw haw.”

Outside in the hall the man in red looks around for Alphie Jenkins.

Alphie Jenkins, short and thin was at a corner table by himself, nursing a beer, looking jittery and nervous. When he saw Santa looking at him his eyes opened round and large and he starts to look around the room in frenzied jerks as if hoping for someone to come and save him from … Santa Claus.… Santa Claus.

“Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas to you all. I leave now to finish my deliveries,” and walks out the front door.

Alphie calms down, but leaves the table and walks to the hall at the back of the bar. Looking around to see if anyone is watching him, he aims himself toward the back door and exits the bar into the back alley.

“Well, Merry Christmas to you Alphie. Or is it Alfred?”

Surprised, Alphie literally jumps in the air with a high-pitched “yeep.” Turning around he sees the Santa who had just left the bar by the front door.

“Well, uh, that is, uh, merry Christmas to you too, uh, Santa.”

“Alfred, that is, you don’t mind me calling you Alfred, do you? Or would you prefer Alfredo?”

“How do you know, I mean, that is, Alphie if you don’t mind.”

“Very well, Alphie. Well, Alphie, I’ve been busy today, as I’m sure you might expect, and well, I’m actually running a little late on my deliveries. And there’s one particular person I have to visit to leave a lump of coal for. Do you think you could help me find that person, Alphie? It might help take you off the naughty list this year. And maybe next.”

“I’m on the naughty list? Wh wh why would I be there?”

“There is that little thing about the money you, um, borrowed from your church cashbox two months ago. And there are those wallets you removed from several people yesterday and there’s that matter of …”

“OK OK Santa. I, that is, I uh. Who do you, uh, who do you need to find?”

“Tony Minetti. He’s been a very bad boy this year.”

“T T T Tony Mi Mi Minetti! Well, see, uh, Santa, I can’t say I know where he is, that is, I mean, I, uh, don’t know, uh, who that is and uh-“

“Now now Alphie. We both know Tony was in the bar this afternoon and you were here too, and you were listening to his conversation with Joey and Al. So, I’m sure you can tell me what you heard. Of course, I’m also sure there’s one person in the bar right now who’d like to know where his wallet is, don’t you?”

Alphie’s face turned whiter than the snow on the ground, his mouth dropped open enough to swallow a reindeer.

He gulped and said, “I, uh, well, now that you remind me, I think I did see Tony and Joey and Al here. They were talking about, well, uh, doing some work, uh, tonight. Said it was a big job, and, uh, it was gonna happen at about 11.”

“And did you happen to hear where that might be, Alphie?”

“Well, that is, uh, I think they said some rich guy. I think the name was Robeson.”

“Would that be Ken Robeson, the writer.”

“I think so. He might have said the guy was hosting a party with some other swells. I, uh, think he mentioned some guy named Grant and maybe Tuttle. Tony was gettin’ suspicious o’ me maybe listening and I had to move to another table.”

“Thank you Alphie. You’ve been very helpful. No coal in your stocking this year.”

“You think I could get a present maybe this year Santa.?”

The man in red turned and gave a stern look, “don’t push it Alphie.”

“Uh, no, of course not. Thank you Santa.”