The floating outfit 32, p.1
The Floating Outfit 32, page 1
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Taking out his much-prized Smith & Wesson revolver, Ed Ballinger showed it to the Texans.
The result was not what he expected.
‘You call that a gun?’ asked the Ysabel Kid.
‘Happen you aim to tangle with Reckharts’ men,’ warned Dusty Fog, ‘you’d better get something better than an itty-bitty stingy gun – or make your will.’
Looking at the tiny .32 caliber revolver, Mark Counter nodded. ‘Was I a praying man, I’d shout “Amen” to that.’
Ed Ballinger had a lot to learn about the west ... including how to live by the law of the gun.
THE FLOATING OUTFIT 32: THE LAW OF THE GUN
By J. T. Edson
First published by Brown Watson Ltd in 1968
Copyright © 1968, 2019 by J. T. Edson
First Digital Edition: February 2019
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book
Series Editor: Ben Bridges
Text © Piccadilly Publishing
Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.
Publisher’s Note:
As with other books in this series, the author uses characters’ native dialect to bring that person to life. Whether they speak French, Irish, American English or English itself, he uses vernacular language to impart this.
Therefore when Scottish characters use words such as “richt” instead of “right”; “laird” for “lord”; “oopstairs” for “upstairs”; “haim” for “home”; “ain” for “own”; “gude sores” for “good sirs” and “wha” for “who” plus many other phrases, please bear in mind that these are not spelling/OCR mistakes.
For Myrtle Molloy, the wild colonial girl.
Chapter One – Ballinger’s Plan
‘You’re crazy, Ed,’ stated Captain Francis Mulrooney. ‘If you’re caught at it, nothing can save you.’
The tall, powerful, craggy-faced man seated at the other side of Mulrooney’s desk grinned, showing his prominent teeth. Perched on his head at a rakish angle, the curly-brimmed derby hat pressed down his bay-rum scented hair. He wore a suit of the latest style, though not of expensive material, white shirt and neatly-fastened tie. A lead-loaded, plaited leather billy sagged down his jacket’s outer right pocket. Inside his breast pocket lay a leather wallet holding a gold and silver police lieutenant’s badge and a card identifying Edward Frank Ballinger as a member of the Chicago Police Department’s newly-formed Detective Bureau.
‘It’s likely to be the only chance we’ll ever have of laying the arm on Tony Reckharts, Cis,’ Ballinger replied. ‘Everybody in the Blue Boar’ll be so busy watching Gallus Maggie and Sadie the Goat that I could walk up and snitch the till off the bar counter without them noticing me.’
Slowly Mulrooney crushed out the glowing end of the cigar he held, then studied the face of his most able subordinate. The bulky Chief of Detectives had brains as well as brawn and was also honest; something which did not necessarily follow with his position. Being honest, he hated criminals, especially those of Reckharts’ breed. Not, Mulrooney frankly admitted, that one could find many criminals with Reckharts’ brilliance, knowledge of the law and organizing ability. In fact, Reckharts stood alone in Chicago’s underworld—for which the Windy City might count itself very fortunate. While arresting Reckharts would deal a crushing, if not final, blow to organized crime in the city, Mulrooney did not wish to achieve it at the cost of Ballinger’s life.
If the scheme which Ballinger had just put forward worked—although armchair moralists might question its legality—the evidence he gathered would put Reckharts away for a long time—even if they could not put a permanent end to his menace by hanging him. Should the plan go wrong in any detail, Ballinger faced a stiff jail sentence—or more likely a painful death and a watery grave in the depths of Lake Michigan. Knowing something of Reckharts, Mulrooney expected the latter alternative, for dead men tell no tales.
‘You know what it’ll mean if you get caught?’ Mulrooney asked, and when Ballinger nodded, went on: ‘Then you’re dead set on going through with it?’
‘Sure. I’m sick to my guts of seeing Reckharts and his top men running the law ragged and laughing in our faces every time we haul one of them into court.’
‘Reckon you can trust the Yegg?’
‘He’s a good guy, apart from his habit of busting open safes,’ Ballinger replied. ‘And his family means a lot to him. Reckharts met his sister, she was a good-looking gal—’
‘Was?’asked Mulrooney.
‘That body we fished out of the lake, the one with no face left,’ said Ballinger quietly. ‘The Yegg identified it as his sister. She was four months gone in child—and the family hadn’t seen her since Reckharts took her to his place in Streeterville. Yeah. I reckon I can trust the Yegg.’
‘Then the only way I can stop you going through with this’s to put you in jail,’ growled Mulrooney. ‘You know my position, Ed. Officially I don’t know a thing about this. Unofficially, good luck and I hope you pull it off. Of course, it all depends on whether Maggie and Sadie tangle.’
‘They’ll do that all right,’ Ballinger promised.
All the Badlands, that sprawling area of slums surrounding the stockyards, bubbled with excitement and conjecture. On every street, in every saloon, honky-tonk, dance hall, billiards parlor and brothel only one topic received discussion. A stranger seeking accommodation in the gambling line would have found but one subject on which the citizens of the Badlands wished to stake their wealth: if Gallus Maggie Drayton and Sadie ‘the Goat’ Barkis tangled, what would be the outcome?
When two ladies each seek and aspire to the highest social position in any society, a clash can always be expected. The nature of the clash depends upon what strata of society the ladies grace. As Sadie the Goat and Gallus Maggie each claimed pre-eminence in the city’s lusty, brawling underworld, their clash might be expected to pass beyond the verbal stage and offer its witnesses quite a spectacle. Gallus Maggie, so called because she occasionally donned men’s clothing and supported the pants with suspenders—known as galluses among her numerous admirers—was the belle of the Pine Road Rollers, and ran a saloon with a reputation for toughness only equaled by Sadie the Goat’s establishment, which served as headquarters for the East Stockyard Boys.
Possibly their feud might never have gone beyond the stage of discredit name-calling and boasting, had not romance reared its head. Each lady was aware that the outcome of a clash would be anything but certain and might have stayed content to utter threats and claim a moral victory when the other failed to take up the challenge.
Then Reckharts came along. In his capacity as organizer of crime, he made use of members from the Rollers and the Boys. While visiting the respective hang-outs of the gangs, he made the acquaintance of Maggie and Sadie. Being a man with an eye for the ladies, and an insatiable desire to make conquests of the opposite sex, he wooed and won both—dwelling in the fond belief that neither knew of his relationship with the other. Reckharts knew the fury of a woman scorned, and wanted no trouble with Maggie or Sadie. So he tried to keep his affairs a secret.
Somehow word leaked out. Just how much a certain detective-lieutenant knew about the leak was never established. It could have been pure coincidence that Ed Ballinger visited each gang’s hang-out on the night before the rumors became public knowledge.
Even then the women might have ignored the issue, but word reached Maggie that Sadie openly claimed to have sole right of entry to Reckharts’ Blue Boar Saloon, and that no galluses-wearing cow had best show her face inside. Curiously, at the same time that Maggie heard of Sadie’s threat, Miss Barkis received warning that if she entered the Blue Boar, Miss Drayton intended to see that she did not walk out.
Such a direct challenge could not be ignored on either side. Each gang’s power in its district rested too much on the fear it inspired and, in no small measure, to certain talents displayed by its most prominent female member. Each girl acted as senior bouncer in her saloon, differing only in their mode of evicting a trouble-maker. Gallus Maggie perfected a trick by which she felled the awkward one then pounced on him, or her, gripped the offender’s ear in her teeth and dragged him to the door. If the offender gave further trouble, and sometimes even if he, or she, did not, Maggie would continue biting until she severed the ear from its roots. Behind her bar, kept pickled for posterity, stood no less than ten ears. While not going in for such elaborate trophies, Sadie also used her own technique for dealing with the obstreperous. Lowering her head, she charged at the annoying party like an old billy goat, thereby gaining her name, to deliver a butt to the body which laid her victim in a winded and unresisting heap upon the floor. After that Sadie took whatever further action she considered necessary.
From which it could be seen that a clash between two such talented temperaments had great spectator-interest and value.
Ed Ballinger had been born and raised in Chicago, knowing the sprawling city like the back of his hand. Very little happened that, sooner or later, he did not hear about and he had been
In a way it had been Reckharts’ insatiable lust for women which gave Ballinger his chance. Having his finger in almost every criminal pie in a five hundred square miles area, Reckharts’ ego desired he be called ‘Big Man’ by his underlings. One of them, known as the Yegg, specialized in opening locked safes and other such depositories of wealth. An intelligent man, the Yegg served an apprenticeship in a legitimate firm of locksmiths and safe makers. In the early 1870s he stood at the height of his new, if illegal, profession and brought ‘peter-popping’ to a fine art. Being known as a ‘straight’ man who would never talk if arrested, he found much employment in projects organized by the Big Man; Reckharts paid well, planned and arranged each job so that little could go wrong, and the Yegg might have continued working indefinitely—had he not had a pretty young sister.
Despite entanglements with at least two other ladies, neither of whom would have approved, Reckharts came, saw and conquered the Yegg’s sister. Unfortunately he loved not wisely, but too well. The Yegg’s sister proved to have a strongly independent streak and refused to be patted on the head, presented with money and quietly shunted off into oblivion. It transpired that she had brains as well as beauty, although her selection of male company might have argued against such a possession. She knew enough about Reckharts’ activities to make casting her aside alive and able to talk decidedly risky, and continued to press her demands for a matrimonial settlement.
A wise general, Reckharts never ordered a major assault while support for the opposition hovered on his flank. Knowing the strong family ties between the Yegg and his sister, the Big Man planned accordingly. After sending the Yegg instructions to pop a safe in a business building, Reckharts passed word to a police officer, who augmented his civic salary with donations from the Big Man and gave much useful service in return, giving certain orders.
At which point Reckharts’ plan started to go wrong. While not claiming to be a genius, Ed Ballinger could add two and two with some accuracy. When he saw a police officer dressing in the latest fashions, living in an apartment the rental of which would be equal to almost his full salary, eating at the best places and tossing money around, Ballinger became suspicious. The lieutenant probed to some effect, learning enough to ensure the errant officer’s arrest and dismissal. In order to avoid any scandal against the department, Ballinger handled the matter himself and in private. While tying up the loose ends, even though they could not take him to Reckharts, he, and not the man to which it had been intended, received the instructions for the Yegg’s disposal. Time being short, Ballinger made the arrest instead of assigning it to one of his subordinates. At the back of his mind lurked the possibility that the Yegg might turn informer, given certain facts.
The Yegg accepted his arrest with a fatalistic attitude, regarding it as no more than the law of averages turning against him. Even hearing that the arresting officer had been under orders to either kill or seriously injure him during the apprehension did not change his mind; for he regarded the news as being a police trick.
Pure chance stepped in at that point. Taking the Yegg to headquarters, Ballinger decided to keep the arrest a secret for a time. So he escorted his man through the rear of the building, arriving just as a horse-drawn ambulance brought in a body found in Lake Michigan. The features had been obliterated by vitriol or other corrosive agent, but the Yegg identified the body as his sister, recognizing a birthmark on the shoulder and a scar on the thigh. Chance alone let him see the first mark, glancing with morbid interest as Ballinger drew back the sheet covering the body to look at it. There had been no chance in the second identifying mark, for the Yegg insisted on making sure—or trying to convince himself that the ruined thing before him was not his sister.
From the moment of discovery, the Yegg wanted only one thing: his revenge on the man responsible for her death. Even in his grief, he could think and knew that he could accomplish nothing alone against Reckharts for the Big Man stood behind a barrier of hired toughs. So the Yegg agreed to help Ballinger in every way he could.
Among other things the Yegg told Ballinger, he mentioned Reckharts’ safe and that it contained enough evidence to hang the Big Man and smash his organization. The only fly in that ointment being how to gain access to the safe’s contents. Asking for a search warrant might have struck some people as the obvious answer to the problem, but in law enforcement the obvious only rarely provided the right answer. Reckharts had never been proven the brains behind much of Chicago’s crime and his wealth gave him some considerable social standing with friends in high places. Should Ballinger apply for the warrant, there would be delay in obtaining it. During that delay word would reach Reckharts and allow him to destroy, or hide away, all the incriminating evidence.
The Yegg claimed he could, given the opportunity, open the safe one-handed and left-handed at that. One very important detail prevented him from doing so; the safe reposed in Reckharts’ very private office on the floor above his Blue Boar Saloon’s bar-room. Knowing the value of the safe’s contents, Reckharts took precautions against the wrong people gaining access to it.
Discarding the idea of gaining legal possession of the safe’s contents, Ballinger gave thought to arranging an opportunity for the Yegg to exercise his talents. The smoldering feud between Gallus Maggie and Sadie the Goat presented Ballinger with the basis of that opportunity. Having seen victims of each woman’s eviction methods, Ballinger did not hesitate to set them at each other’s throats. Nobody, not even those who had lost an ear to Maggie or had had hair torn from the scalp by Sadie, ever dared take the matter before a judge which made any attempt at convicting and punishing the women impossible. The way Ballinger saw it, such damage as Maggie and Sadie inflicted upon each other would be in payment for the treatment they had handed to others. Ed Ballinger was neither an armchair moralist, nor a dreamy-eyed liberal-intellectual; so, free from the disinterested bigotry of either, his thinking bore the mark of good, sound commonsense.
Only Ballinger knew that he caught the Yegg in the act of breaking a safe. In fact nobody at headquarters even knew that the Yegg had been there on that fateful night; the two men of the ambulance crew did not belong to the Police Department and knew nothing of the Yegg’s criminal past, believing him to be a relative brought in to identify the body.
Being released, the Yegg acted as he would under normal conditions in the circumstances. He went into hiding and passed word through the usual channels informing Reckharts that the job had gone sour, although he escaped arrest. To add authenticity to the message, the Yegg requested that his sister be informed not to worry and requested speedy re-employment.
Maybe Reckharts would have gone much deeper into the matter, but he found himself with some highly diverting trouble on his hands. His information service at headquarters notified him of the arrest of his man, which accounted for the Yegg’s continued freedom. Reckharts gave no thought to the arrested policeman. On several occasions the Big Man had warned about spending beyond one’s legal earnings, but the fool did not listen. So he had made a slip and Ballinger slammed home the jaws of a trap. Reckharts did not care, knowing that the dishonest lawman could in no way implicate him. While the loss had spoiled one plan, Reckharts could rely on other police contacts. The Yegg apparently had not heard of his sister’s death, and might not. If he did, he could be removed later in the manner planned.
The news which diverted Reckharts was that Sadie the Goat intended to be in his place at noon on Saturday and that Gallus Maggie had expressed her expectancy of being present also. Such a meeting could have only one result. While Reckharts’ ego received quite a boost at the thought of two women fighting for his affections, he wished they could have found some other venue for the fracas. Unfortunately for him, Maggie heard that Sadie would be visiting his place and realized that such an action threw down the gauntlet which she must take up. Curiously, at the time Maggie heard of her rival’s intentions, Sadie was receiving word that Maggie meant to be at the Blue Boar on Saturday at noon in defiance of Sadie’s warning. Possibly each woman felt some trepidation as she heard the fateful words. Yet each knew she must be at Reckharts’ place on Saturday at noon—or get out of Chicago. Too much attention had been attracted to their comments and word of the challenge spread like the wind-blown flames of a prairie fire. Speculation as to the result rose high and each woman knew she could not avoid the issue.
