The Duchess of Skid Row, page 5
“What if things go sour? Then you’ll be in trouble too.”
Stephanie poured brandy in each of our coffee cups. She said, “I work for the department too. I have as big a stake in its reputation as anyone else.” She slid along the couch until she could touch my arm with her hand.
“Don’t you see, Jeff? I want to help. But there’s so little I can do, except something like this.”
I was surprised. I had always thought of Stephanie as more or less a pleasant decoration for the front office, as someone to drink with, maybe roll in the hay with if I ever had the chance. I’d always felt that her interest seldom went beyond Stephanie. This was quite a switch.
But then, as she said, she hadn’t had much chance to help. And she had never been faced with a possible departmental blowup like the one that could come out of this mess.
I said, “I can use all the help I can get.”
She squeezed her fingers down on my arm. I said, “And if things do go sour, I’ll do what I can to keep you off the hook.”
She said softly, “I’ll give you all the help I can, Jeff—any kind.”
I grinned at her. “That’s a dangerous thing to say, babydoll. It leaves me a lot of room to operate in.”
“I meant for it to,” she said. She moved another foot closer. I took the hint and reached for her. She came up against me with a quick, sinuous movement….
• • •
Daylight hit me across the eyes. I lifted my head and blinked at it. Stephanie stirred beside me. She took one of my hands and laid it on her bare breast.
“Nice to wake up to, darling?”
“It would be nicer if I didn’t have Ritter or Minto hanging over my head.”
Stephanie’s flesh quivered under my fingers. “I forgot about all that. What are you going to do?”
“Send you off to work and go back to sleep. Tell the DA I’ll call him later. And keep your ears open for me. Okay?”
She slid reluctantly out of the bed. “All right. But be careful, darling.”
She had a possessive way of saying darling that worried me. I kept my back to her, my eyes closed. I didn’t know when she left the apartment. I’d gone back to sleep.
I awoke just past one o’clock. I was stiff and sore and some of the lumps I’d picked up felt worse than before. I drew a hot bath and soaked in it while I read the morning paper.
There were two front-page stories of interest. One was about Johnny’s death; the other about my resigning. Hal Ewing, who had written both, made no attempt to connect the two events.
I didn’t learn much that I didn’t already know. The police were still looking for Johnny Itsuko’s automobile. Lieutenant Maslin claimed he could find no logical motive for the killing. Captain Ritter wasn’t mentioned. Neither was I. As far as the newspaper story went, Johnny Itsuko’s connection with the police force was still unknown.
I was glad Ritter hadn’t yet shot off his face. The less he said, the more chance I had of uncovering the evidence I needed. Once the truth about Johnny’s work came out, a lot of rats would likely run for cover and wait for the heat to die down.
I left the tub reluctantly and went to see what Stephanie had in her refrigerator. It was after three when I took my last cup of coffee and a cigaret to the telephone.
Stephanie answered the phone. “What happened to you, Jeff?”
“I slept in.”
She said quickly, “I garaged your car, darling. I left my keys on the coffee table. You’ll be all right with my car.”
“No warrant out for me yet?”
I tried to make it sound like a joke, but she answered seriously. “Captain Ritter has been in. So has Lieutenant Maslin, but I haven’t heard anything.”
I said, “Put me through to the bossman, babydoll. Maybe he has some news.”
She said, “Will I see you soon?”
“We still have last night’s dinner date to keep. Just come back here. If I’m not around, wait for me.”
“Be careful, Jeff.”
I said I’d be careful. She switched me over to the DA. I said, “This is your former employee.”
He said, “You were right, Jeff. That was a smart move, your resigning.”
“I couldn’t think of any other way to unzip Ritter in a hurry.”
His voice was tight and cold. “If you think you’ve got Ritter on the run, Jeff, think harder. He came up with his evidence today.”
“What kind of evidence?”
He said, “The kind that would have made me ask for your resignation if you hadn’t already given it to me.”
“I said, “Slow down, sir, and tell me what kind of evidence Ritter claims he has on me.”
He said, “Johnny Itsuko’s taped report. Johnny took it in the house last night. His wife gave it to Ritter.”
I said, “Did you hear it?”
“No, I just heard what Ritter said was on that tape. And he wouldn’t dare lie, Jeff.”
I yelled, “All right, what was on it?”
“It puts the finger on you, Jeff, just as Ritter claimed.”
“If that’s true, why did Johnny Itsuko invite me to talk to him last night? If he thought I sold out to the Combine, he wouldn’t have let me get within fifty feet of him.”
“I can’t answer that,” the DA said. “But maybe Maslin can. He wants to talk to you.”
“You mean he wants to book me.”
“He didn’t a half hour ago,” the DA said. “He told me that if you called to tell you to come down. He wants to ask some questions.”
“I’ll bet that’s all he wants. If Ritter has made as big a sucker out of him as he has out of you, Maslin will throw the key away on me.”
I rammed the phone down. I lit another cigaret and dialed Maslin’s office.
He was down in the forensic lab, but I finally got him on the wire. I said, “McKeon here. The DA said you wanted to talk to me.”
Maslin sounded as unperturbed as ever. “That’s right, Jeff. Can you come down? I have something to show you. I’ll be in the lab.”
I said, “I can come down there, but how long do I have to stay?”
“If I wanted you arrested, I’d have you here by now.”
I said, “You’d have to find me first.”
He said, “That wouldn’t be difficult. Or did Stephanie Bartlett hide your car in a downtown garage just to make us think you’re staying at her place?”
I said, “Go to hell. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”
I took a cab, leaving Stephanie’s coupe in case I wanted it for a disguise later. The cab dropped me off at the side entrance near the basement. I walked straight to the lab and into the reception room. Maslin was conferring with Tod Billings, the city’s top lab man.
I went up to them. Maslin gave me a faint smile. He said, “Don’t look so put out, Jeff. Since Griselda isn’t in town, I chose the next most likely one.”
I said again, “Go to hell.”
“By the way, Griselda called the DA’s office and left you a message,” he said.
“Now maybe I can throw all this crap back in Ritter’s face.” I reached for a phone. “I’ll let you ask her where she stands yourself.”
I dialed the DA’s extension. I said to Stephanie, “Put me through to the bossman, babydoll.”
She put me straight through. I said, “Jeff here again. What’s this about Griselda Cletis calling?”
The DA said, “From Los Angeles. She said to tell you that she’s back in town and you can call her there. She seems to think you know the number. Nothing urgent.”
I hung up on him. I said to Maslin, “Griselda’s back from the desert. Do you want to talk to her?”
He said quietly, “I already have the L.A. police checking her out, Jeff.” He nodded to Tod Billings. “Tod has something to show us. Let’s go into his lab”
Tod Billings grinned at me as we walked toward the lab. He opened the door to his lab and we went in. Quite a collection of junk littered the workbench along one wall. I could see that it was mostly metal, twisted and burned. I looked inquiringly at Tod Billings.
He said briskly, “This stuff was taken out of what was left of Johnny Itsuko’s car.”
Maslin said, “Maybe Jeff hasn’t heard.” He glanced at me. “The car was found down by the river. Whoever stole it also tried to blow it up.”
“Not quite accurate,” Billings said. He poked a finger at a particularly twisted piece of metal. “He didn’t just try to blow it up. He knew his business. This is the timing mechanism for the bomb. He had it planted in the right place. He just didn’t count on one item.”
Maslin and I both waited. When Billings had something to say about scientific crime detection, everyone listened. He said, “Itsuko drove a small English car. The demolition expert is probably used to blowing up American cars.” He grinned at us. “No offense meant, but some of those little bugs are just tougher. So he got only half as much destruction as he planned.”
I said, “You called him a demolition expert. Does that mean anything?”
“It means what it says,” Billings answered. “Whoever rigged the car was probably the same person who blew Itsuko’s toolshed and set it afire. The techniques are the same.” He touched a smaller bit of twisted, blackened metal. “This is the remains of the fire bomb we found by the shed. Both jobs were done by an expert.”
I felt a sudden surge of excitement. I knew one man who was a demolition expert. The United States Army had put his abilities to good use. But that had been some time ago. Since then he had gone in for a different way of making a living. His name was Hoxey Creen.
I said, “That lets me out, Maslin. I hardly know a bomb from a Hawaiian pineapple.”
“You could have had a confederate,” Maslin said.
“Name one.”
“There’s Hoxey Creen,” he said. “He’s been a stoolie of yours for quite a while. I don’t know what you’ve got on him, but it must be something powerful to keep a crud like that in line. You could have swapped him his freedom for doing this job.”
I said, “Did you dream this up or did Ritter?”
“It’s only a theory,” he said.
Tod Billings was watching us both; he was obviously puzzled. He said, “You guys argue your problems on your own time.”
“Tell him the rest of it, Tod,” said Maslin.
Billings started pointing out objects on the workbench. “This is the remains of a portable tape dictating machine,” he said. “There’s no sign a tape was on it.” He paused and poked a finger toward a cigaret lighter with a miniature painting on each flat surface. “This was apparently on the seat of the car. A bit of seat cover fiber is caught under the sparkwheel. It must have been blown into the recess where we found it. That’s why it isn’t burned.”
Maslin picked the lighter up and handed it to me. I looked at the two miniature paintings on the sides. They were of oriental ladies, nudes, and not far from being obscene. I turned the lighter over and looked at the butt end. The initials JGM were etched there. My initials.
I said, “What the hell?” I put it back on the bench.
Maslin said, “Can you explain it, Jeff?”
“Sure I can explain it. Griselda gave it to me. She found it in an L.A. oriental store. It’s a whorehouse souvenir from Hong Kong. Griselda thought it was a terrific gag. Only it won’t hold fluid over a day, so I didn’t use it.”
“Did you give it to someone?”
I tried to remember what I had done with it. I had a vague memory of leaving it behind, in the desert shack Griselda and I had shared. But I couldn’t be sure.
“No,” I said, “I didn’t give it to anyone.”
Tod Billings said, “The show’s over. Go outside and glare at each other.”
We went outside. We stopped in the hall. Maslin said, “Could someone have taken it from you after you were knocked down in the shed?”
I said, “I wasn’t out. I could feel. And no one laid a paw on my pockets.”
He grimaced. “Are you being honest or just bull-headed?”
I said, “Why should I try to fake an alibi for myself? That would only obscure things. I want to get at the bottom of this as much as you do. Johnny was my friend, damn it. And I’m on the hook. Sure I could say someone lifted the lighter off me—and then you could waste a lot of energy snooping down a dead-end trail.”
Maslin said, “It’s idiotic reasoning like this that keeps me from locking you up.”
“Ritter will change your mind before long. I hear he has evidence that puts me right in the death cell.”
Maslin said, “You mean the tape recording—Johnny’s report?”
“What else? Or is there more too?”
“According to Ritter, Itsuko’s report stated that there was no doubt about the charges against you.”
“If that’s true why did Johnny want to talk to me last night?”
Maslin said somberly, “Kay Itsuko gave Ritter the tape. She gave me something too—information.”
“Get it said, Lieutenant.”
Maslin said, “According to Johnny’s wife, he didn’t have an appointment with you last night or any other night.”
“Then why did he go out to the woodshed?”
“Because ten minutes before he did, he got a phone call. It was from you, Jeff. You made the appointment with Johnny. He didn’t make it with you.”
6
STEPHANIE was dressed and waiting for me. I stared at the black dress she had poured over herself. It was a little too tight, and a little too low in front. It hinted like hell; it promised; it was just over the edge of being vulgar.
She had added to the effect of the dress by letting her hair down and fuzzing it out. And she wore too much makeup. The change from her usually neat, businesslike appearance was almost enough to be a disguise.
“What’s the idea?”
She looked down at the swell of her bosom. She gave herself a little shake. “Like it? I thought that if you showed up at Nick Calumet’s with a lady, someone might be suspicious. So tonight I’m no lady.”
I went to the telephone. I said to Stephanie, “How did you know we were going to Calumet‘s?”
“You mentioned his leasing the old Forum,” she said. “You sounded suspicious. I deduced the rest.”
I picked up the phone and dialed Teddy Jenner’s private number. I said, “Just remember two tough characters named Minto and Pooly are loose in town. If they show up and try something, don’t be a heroine. Take off.”
She didn’t answer. A sleepy voice answered the telephone. It was Teddy’s. I said, “This is McKeon. I’m coming over there pretty soon. I want to talk to Hoxey. You have him there.”
Teddy told me what to do to myself. I said, “I’m leaving that packet of evidence for the DA. If I don’t call in and have it held, he’ll get it. And if Hoxey isn’t waiting to talk to me, I don’t intend to make that call.”
I hung up. Stephanie said, “Good heaven’s. Who was that you were so tough with?”
I dialed the long distance operator and gave her a Los Angeles number. I turned to Stephanie. I said, “That was Teddy Jenner. I told you about her last night. Hoxey Creen is one of my stoolies, and her boyfriend.”
The operator told me that my Los Angeles number didn’t answer. I said that I’d call later. I hung up.
We took her coupe. I headed across town for Hill Street. Stephanie said, “Where are we going to eat?”
“I thought we’d try Arch’s Gay Nineties,” I said.
“Isn’t he the new man you told me about? The one who might be the front for the Combine?”
I said, “That’s right.”
“Do you think he’ll poison our food?” She sounded half serious.
“I don’t think he’ll do anything. He can’t afford to. If he’s mixed up with the Combine, the quieter he is right now, the better.”
I slowed down to light a cigaret. “It isn’t Arch who worries me. It’s Nick Calumet.”
“When do we go to his place?” She sounded eager, Like a kid looking forward to an adventure.
“Right after we eat.”
She giggled a little. “And what do we do, play pinball?”
“Better than that. We’re going to watch burlesque movies.”
“Isn’t that a little like taking coals to Newcastle?” Stephanie wanted to know.
I didn’t answer that one. I crossed Hill Street and pulled the coupe to the curb next to the mouth of the alley that ran behind the Blue Beagle, Arch’s, and Calumet’s. I said, “We’ll go into the Gay Nineties for a drink. I’m going to leave you and make one quick call. Then we’ll have dinner.”
“You’re going to see this Hoxey Creen person?”
“That’s right. And if Teddy did what I told her, I won’t be long.”
Stephanie slowed her step as we started toward the corner. “You said something about giving evidence to the DA if she didn’t do what you wanted. Isn’t that a kind of blackmail, Jeff?”
“It’s a cop’s kind of blackmail, babydoll. You have to decide whether justice is better served by throwing people like Hoxey in jail or by leaving them loose to help you get the goods on other crumbs.”
“And I suppose it depends in part on the crime you’re holding over his head,” she said thoughtfully.
I grinned at her. “Fishing for information?”
“What’s wrong with my being curious?” she demanded. “I just can’t imagine what a person like that could do to give you a hold over him. I mean, he’s so used to going to jail, wouldn’t he prefer it to being a stool pigeon for the police?”
I held the door to Arch’s place for her. “Not Hoxey, He’s a three time loser. The fourth time means a long, long stretch in this state. Besides, a lot of men will do anything in preference to going back to jail. Including murder.”
I helped her off with her coat and handed it and mine to a hatcheck girl. Arch had the place fixed up with a lot of gilt and red plush. All the lamps were made to look like gaslights. For all the yoicked-up atmosphere, there was a quiet dignity about the restaurant that appealed to me.
