The Duchess of Skid Row, page 7
“What’s that got to do with me?” Calumet demanded.
“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t know you were being investigated.”
“In my business you’re always being investigated,” Calumet said. “And who in hell is Johnny Itsuko?”
“He’s the guy who found out that someone around here is fronting for the Combine. That’s why he was killed. He was going to blow the whistle.”
Calumet ran thin fingers over his jawline. He said slowly, “If I was fronting for the Combine, do you think I’d call attention to it by spreading the rumor that it was moving back into town? Use your head, McKeon.”
“You might if you wanted to get at me. I’m the one who moved them out before. Maybe you figured getting rid of me would leave you a wide open field.”
He said, “I don’t think that cute. Try somebody else. Try Arch. He’s just up from L.A.”
“Why don’t you tell me to try Hoxey or Teddy.”
Calumet was silent for a moment. Then he said, “That business with Teddy. That was a mistake, McKeon.”
I said, “Hoxey works for you. And I hear you beefing at Teddy like a cast-off boyfriend. How do you expect me to add those up?”
He pushed his chair back from the desk. “It wasn’t anything, I tell you. Sure I got sore. You would too if a big dame like that belted you one.”
“What did you go to Teddy for in the first place? She doesn’t strike me as your type.”
“I hired Hoxey to help me set this place up. It’s the first time I ever went in for anything big. And he knows all the angles. So he suggested I get neighborly with Teddy, have her steer some of those fat wallets up to my place. The way Hoxey talked, the deal was all arranged. I went to see her about it. She told me she was tired of playing with people like me. She got insulting. She acted crazy. She accused me of corrupting Hoxey!”
He laughed. “Me corrupting Hoxey Creen!”
It sounded just fantastic enough to be believable. But I wasn’t ready to buy it yet. Not from Nick Calumet.
I said, “That doesn’t explain Minto and Pooly.”
Calumet said, “Whoever they are.”
I said, “As I see it, Nick, they’re the boys the Combine sent up here to help you establish a beachhead.”
“Why would I want any part of the Combine?” he demanded. “I’ve got a good thing going here. Strictly legitimate.”
“Where did you get the money to expand?”
He smirked at me. “I played a three-horse parlay. I made a pile.”
“That could be a cover story, Nick. The Combine sets it up so you win a bundle. Only the dough is really theirs.”
He shook his head. He said, “And what kind of racket am I supposed to be setting up for them?”
“I figured that out too. The only business the Combine is interested in is fast money and a lot of it. Dope is no good in this part of the world. Neither is prostitution. All our whores are small-time, independent operators. That leaves gambling.”
He snorted. “With the joint on Dobbs Island going wide open, who’d sink anything into gambling around here?”
I said, “That’s penny ante. Besides, it takes time to go out to the Island. The Combine is after the kind of set-up where they can get a businessman’s bets without his going to much trouble. Something like a wire service.”
He said, “Help yourself, McKeon. Tear my place apart. If you find a wire service operation, I’ll go confess to killing this Itsuko. Is it a deal?”
I ignored his sarcasm. “You and the Combine aren’t dumb enough to try anything openly. I don’t even think you have the set-up in operation. You’re waiting to see me out of the way. As for confessing to killing Itsuko, you might just end up doing that anyway.”
Calumet said, “I never carried a gun in my life.”
“He wasn’t shot. He was beaten to death.”
He snorted at me. “You think you could get anyone to believe I could do a job like that on a man?”
“You could hire it done. Pooly loves to belt people around.”
“Whoever Pooly is. Have you tried Arch? He’s got the size for it.”
“What gives between you and Arch?”
Calumet said, “He thinks that having a place next door to his lowers the reputation of the neighborhood.” He grinned at that. “And if you don’t like Arch, try Teddy. She’s big enough.”
I said, “I like you and Pooly, Nick.”
He spread his hands. “Sorry I can’t help you, McKeon.” He made a show of pulling some papers forward. “Now if you’re through, let me get to work.”
“I’m not through. Itsuko’s car was blown up. His toolshed was set on fire by a bomb. A real demo expert did both jobs. Hoxey knows the trade. And Hoxey works for you.”
“Hoxey did,” Calumet said. “After that mess with Teddy, I threw him out.”
Short of trying to beat information out of Calumet, I was helpless. And I wasn’t ready to throw my weight around yet. I had the feeling that he was lying to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on just what part of his story wasn’t straight. And he bothered me. He was sounding more sure of himself all the time. He was laughing at me as if he knew he had me stymied.
I started to say something. Then I heard the noise; the step in the hallway. Calumet heard it too. His head came up. He tried to cover the movement but he wasn’t fast enough.
I backpedaled softly to the door. Calumet said loudly, “McKeon, get out of here and let me do my work.”
“You’re slipping, Nick. That was too clumsy even for you.”
I grabbed the doorknob and pulled. The door swung open. I stepped carefully into the hall.
I was in time to see the door leading to the movie section of the building swinging shut. I had a glimpse of Hoxey’s checked sport coat. I started running.
I got the door open and plunged into dimness. I heard movement to my right, toward the last aisle, the area where I had left Stephanie. I went that way. I saw a man moving fast.
I caromed off a customer. He grunted and stepped out of my way. I reached the end aisle. I stopped. I couldn’t hear anything but the whir of machines. I looked up the length of the aisle. Nothing moved.
I peered into the corner made by the two machines. It was dark and empty. I started up the aisle. Only a few people were watching the movies back here. None of them was Hoxey.
I saw someone coming toward me. It was Stephanie. I stepped close to her. “Did you see Hoxey Creen come up this way?”
She said, “I wouldn’t know Hoxey Creen if I saw him. What’s happened now?”
“Did anyone come up this aisle just now?”
She shook her head. She seemed strangely subdued, nervous.
“Did you see all the movies you wanted?”
“I saw enough,” Stephanie said. She sounded faintly bitter.
“Don’t feel bad. That isn’t the kind of movie work you’d want anyway. You don’t gain fame by stripping for a two-bit sideshow.”
She said, “It was rather disgusting.”
I said, “You wait right here.” I left her and went to the end of the aisle. I peered into all the dark corners. They were empty.
I went back to Stephanie. “Let’s get out of here.”
I led her out. Nick Calumet was nowhere in sight. I was just as glad. I didn’t feel like tangling with anyone right now. Something was nagging at my mind. I couldn’t get it enough in focus to see it clearly. But it was there, annoying me.
We reached Stephanie’s coupe. I helped her in and slid beneath the wheel. I turned on the headlights. They splashed across the alley mouth and lighted up a car parked there. They also lighted up a man getting into the car.
He had a face I wanted too badly to see again to forget. The dusting of pock marks on the cheeks, the hard slash of a mouth were things I’d dreamed about.
The man getting into the car was Minto. He stopped and turned his face toward us.
I opened the door of the coupe. I started into the street. Minto popped into his car. The motor roared. He took off, his wheels spraying water from the pavement.
Stephanie said, “Jeff, what is it?”
I climbed back in the coupe. I started after Minto. “That’s the boy who worked me over last night.”
She was sitting close to me. I felt her shiver. “He looks vicious.”
“He’ll look worse after I get my hands on him.”
8
MINTO WASN’T hurrying. I hung about fifty feet behind him. He worked his sedan over to Fifth and headed for town. He turned right on Salmon Way. Then he turned left on Southlake.
I said, “Maybe he’s going to pay me another visit.”
Stephanie sounded nervous. “Shouldn’t you call the police, Jeff?”
“This kind of rat I take care of myself.”
I started to say more but Minto made a sudden right turn. He was going to my houseboat. He jumped the low curb and crossed the wide gravel strip and swung into one of the shadow-darkened parking slots that belonged to the moorage where I lived.
I jumped the curb. I rammed the coupe down the line of parked cars. I swung behind Minto’s car. I braked suddenly and I had him pinned between a low wall in front and me in back.
I climbed out of the coupe. I walked up to his car. I pulled open the driver’s side door. I kept as much of myself behind it as I could manage.
Minto wasn’t inside.
I looked at the wall. He could conceivably have gone over it. But on the other side was the water of the Inlet. And there was no place else he could have gone in the little time he’d had before I drove up. Unless he was crouched between his car and the one to the right.
I opened the rear door. The back was empty too. That meant he had to be between the two cars. I bent and stepped into the back of his car. My idea was to crawl through to the other side.
I got all of myself in the back of the car. I was reaching for the door handle on the right side when the door behind me slammed. I tried to turn but my height was against me. I got my head swiveled around around and that was all.
But it was enough. Minto was standing inside the front door. He had his gun where I could see it. I could also see dirt on his suit. He’d been under his car, waiting to roll out.
I pushed on the handle of the right rear door. The lock clicked back but the door stayed shut.
Minto moved his mouth so that the right side matched the left. I assumed he was smiling.
He said, “Pooly’s leaning on it, McKeon. You can’t get enough leverage to open it. So just relax.”
I sat down on the seat. Minto wriggled his gun hand. “I don’t want to blast you in there. That would make the suicide angle a little hard to believe. But I will if I have to.”
I said, “And if you don’t have to?”
“Then you live a little longer. Long enough for us to set you up dead—as the law likes to put it—by your own hand.”
“You already set me up by letting me tail you here.”
He smiled some more. I said, “Who tipped you off that I was going to be at Calumet’s?”
“Maybe I was just lucky and saw you there.”
I said, “You don’t play with those kind of odds. You were there because you knew I would be.”
“What difference can it make to a dead man?”
He wiggled the gun again. “All right, Pooly. He’s quiet. Move his crate somewhere and get back here. We’ve got work to do.”
I heard the motor of my car start up. I wondered what had happened to Stephanie. I didn’t like what I was thinking. Minto and Pooly weren’t the type to let their gentlemanly instincts get in their way. I was pretty sure they’d make a double suicide set-up if they thought she might know too much.
But there was no outcry, no indication Stephanie was anywhere around. Her little car spit gravel as it was backed away. It swung into a slot farther down the line. The motor died. The door slammed.
Minto said, “Pooly, hurry it up.”
His head swung away from me. The movement didn’t carry his eyes all the way off me, but it changed their angle. I lifted my right hand. I got the door latch down. I set myself to push the door open and dive for the darkness between this car and the one on its right.
Minto’s head started to swing back. A tight, nervous voice said, “Don’t move or I’ll blow a hole through you.”
Minto wasn’t moving. His slit of a mouth was hanging open. His eyes were bulging. The gun in his hand was twitching. Then it was still. I could see beyond his shoulder. A gun was pressed against the back of his neck. Behind the gun was Stephanie.
She looked as if she didn’t know whether to faint or to go off and be sick.
He said hoarsely, “You pull that trigger and so do I. McKeon hasn’t got a chance.”
I couldn’t argue with him. He just might be crazy enough to make that kind of bluff stick. I said, “He’s right. So just hang easy, dollbaby.”
Minto said, “What did you do with Pooly?”
“He’s asleep,” Stephanie said. I could hear her fighting to keep her voice steady. “He forgot to look behind the seat. I hit him with a wrench.”
She sounded proud and scared at the same time.
Minto said, “I’ll deal. McKeon for Pooly. We go; you go.”
“No!” Stephanie said. “You drop your gun or I’ll kill you.”
I said, “Yes, damn it. I’m the one on the open end of his heater.”
Minto licked his lips. I said, “Drop it, Minto. I’ll guarantee your end of the deal.”
“You got ways of making this dame play your way?” he said. He sounded worried. “I never saw a woman yet that didn’t make up her own damn rules.”
I said, “She’ll play my way all right. And my word’s good. Ask any hood down on Hill Street.” I held out a hand.
Minto took a deep breath. He dropped the gun. I caught it. I said, “All right, Stephanie, get away from him.”
“And give him another crack at you?” she demanded.
I said, “That’s right.”
“I won’t do it. I captured him. I want to take him to jail.”
I said, “What good would he be to anybody in jail?”
Minto said, “McKeon, you promised—”
It could have been funny, only he was too desperate to see the humorous side. And I was a little worried about Stephanie doing what I told her.
I said, “If you shoot Minto, I’ll have to shoot you, dollbaby. If you try to run him in, I’ll have to take him away from you.”
She took a deep breath. Her hand was shaking and so was the gun she held against Minto’s neck. Even in the gloom, I could see the color go out of his cheeks.
She pulled the gun down and turned away. I said, “That’s better.”
Minto sighed softly. He climbed beneath the wheel of the car. I could see him fighting the shakes.
I got out. I took the gun from Stephanie. I broke it and emptied it. I did the same with Minto’s. I tossed both guns in the back of Minto’s car. I went to the coupe and pulled Pooly out from under the wheel. He was still asleep. He had a turkey egg above his right ear. He wouldn’t wake up for quite a while.
I dropped him to the gravel. I said to Minto, “Help yourself.”
I put Stephanie in the coupe and drove off. She sat stiffly until I reached her place by a roundabout route. We weren’t followed.
She stayed silent while I escorted her upstairs and inside her apartment. Then she sat on the couch and started to shake.
I found a bottle and brought her a snort. She took it like medicine. She said, “Would you have shot me, Jeff?”
“That’s right. I gave my word.”
“To a—a thug like that!”
“It’s still my word.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t understand men,” she said. “No wonder the world’s in the shape it is. Haven’t you ever heard of expediency?”
I said, “You mean if you gave your word, you’d back out of it?”
“If it meant protecting myself or getting what I needed, I certainly would,” she said. “Any woman would.”
I said, “I doubt that. Some women are loyal to themselves.”
“I guess we just aren’t talking the same language, Jeff.”
She held out her hands. They were trembling badly. She said, “Come here, darling, and do something for my wim-wams.”
I woke up groggy from too much sleep. But as my body came alive, I decided I was in better shape than I had been. I decided that I was about ready to tackle even Arch—if I had to.
I blinked at the beam of daylight coming through the bedroom curtains. I tried to recall what had waked me. Then I heard the steady clang of the telephone.
I climbed out of bed. The clock on Stephanie’s dresser read 2 P.M. I glanced at the bed. Stephanie wasn’t in it.
I went in to answer the telephone.
I said cautiously, “Hello?”
“Well, it’s about time! Where have you been, lover?” It was Griselda.
“I’ve been calling you in L.A.”
“I’m still here. What’s going on up there? Why aren’t you ever home?”
I said, “Home isn’t safe these days.”
She said tartly, “Anyplace should be safer than where you are.”
I winced. I said, “How did you get this number?”
“Your boss gave it to me. My God, I thought you’d have better taste, Jeff McKeon!”
I yelled into the phone, “When I’m in trouble, I take help where I can get it.”
“What kind of help can you get from that walking pair of mammary glands?” she demanded. Her voice lowered. “I know the agreement we made, Jeff. Who you shack up with is your business. But, my God, Stephanie Bartlett….”
I said, “What makes her so different from any other dame I might climb into bed with?”
She sniffed. “I just hope she’s worth the effort. Down here the word is she wasn’t.”
“What did you hear about Stephanie down there?”
Griselda made a harsh sound, which I took to be a laugh. She said, “Just walk down Sunset Strip and drop her name, lover. She left a long string of happy TV and movie people when she went back home. One man described her as being like a chocolate rabbit he got once for Easter. It looked so good, but when he bit into it, there was nothing inside.”
