Delphi collected works o.., p.28
Delphi Collected Works of Peter Cheyney Illustrated, page 28
I pull a newspaper outa my pocket an’ push my finger through so as to make a hole to see through an’ then I stand, underneath a lamp an’ pretend to read the paper, but all the time I am keepin’ my eye on the fellow who is workin’ about the garage, and who, right now, is fixing a flat tyre on one of the cars.
Just at this minute the door at the back opens an’ a guy puts his head around the corner an’ speaks to the guy in the garage. I see that the guy in the doorway is Skendall an’ also that he is sending the other guy out lor somethin’ because the other guy scrams an’ I can see him hurryin’ to a cigarette stand down the street, so I reckon that Skendall has sent him out to buy some.
Skendall stands for a minute in the back doorway an’ then he goes, so I reckon that he has gone upstairs again. I look down the street an’ I can see the garage guy still standin’ at the cigarette stand an’ so I ease across the road pretty quick an’ go into the garage an’ stand in a dark corner which is full of shadows.
A couple minutes afterwards the guy comes back with the cigarettes an’ I watch him as he goes over to the door an’ upstairs. A minute afterwards he comes down again and begins to play around with the flat tyre which is on a car in the front of the garage an’ it is quite easy for me to slip across to the door an’ open it and walk through, pullin’ it shut behind me.
I find myself at the bottom of a flight of wooden stairs an’ at the top I can see a slit of light comin’ from a door. I go up the stairs, an’ look around the edge of the door an’ I look into a bedroom an’ in the corner is Skendall in his shirtsleeves fiddlin’ with a radio.
I pull out the Luger.
“Well, Skendall, how’re you makin’ out?” I ask him.
He spins around. He looks as surprised as if he’d trod on a snake, an’ then he recognises me.
He grins.
“Why, if it ain’t Mr. Rice,” he says, just standin’ there with his big hands hangin’ down by his sides, “an’ why the rod, Mr. Rice, an’ what can I do for you?”
“You sit down there an’ shut your head,” I tell him, “an’ take a tip from me an’ get some quick thinkin’ an do what you’re told otherwise this gun’s liable to go off an’ you’re liable to get yourself a coupla slugs in the guts.”
He sits down, but he is still lookin’ pretty cool, an’ the idea crosses my mind that this is not the first time this guy has had a gun held on him.
“Say, Rice,” he cracks. “Just what is this, a hold-up, an’ what are you after anyway?”
I think I will try something on this guy, because I have figured out that if he was in on the shootin’ of Willie the Goop then he must know the reason for it, an’ it looks to me as if Willie knew somethin’ that he wasn’t supposed to know an’ that’s why they ironed him out.
“Listen, punk,” I say. “You know this ain’t a hold-up, an’ you know what I’m doin’ here. You guys gave it to Willie the Goop, who was a friend of mine just because he knew somethin’ too much for you. Well let me tell you that you’re going to tell me all about it an’ like it, an’ if you don’t then I’m going to take you for a ride that you’ll remember when you’ve got white whiskers an’ double lumbago.”
He gets up. This guy has got nerve alright.
“Yeah, bozo,” he says. “Well now I’ll tell you a few. If you fire that gun off up here there’ll be half a dozen of my buddies around here inside ten seconds an’ what they wouldn’t do to you is nobody’s business. You take a tip from me an’ put it...”
He breaks off an’ takes a sudden dive at me across the room. I drop the gun an’ my head an’ connect with his jaw with my left elbow. He goes down, but he is up almost before he has hit the floor an’ aims a nasty one at my head. I block it an’ swing a right which misses, an’ then we get into a wrestlin’ act with nothin’ barred.
I’m telling you that this guy Skendall was strong, but I’m also tellin’ you that I am a little bit stronger, an’ when I have thrown him an’ fell on top of him an’ banged his head on the floor half a dozen times he starts to go a bit funny an’ weaken.
I get my fingers round his throat an’ press my two thumbs on his windpipe. His eyes start poppin’.
“Now listen, sweetheart,” I tell him. “Are you goin’ to play ball or are you? If so indicate in the usual way. If not I’m just goin’ to go on squeezin’ until you are duly elected for the local morgue.”
He is almost black in the face when he nods his head, an’ I ease up the pressure.
“Now get this, Skendall,” I say. “I reckon I’m on to you. First of all I want you to tell me about that little business last night at Joe Madrigaul’s place. How did Saltierra kill Willie the Goop an’ why? That’s question number one, an’ question number two is, who killed Harvest V. Mellander an’ why? Now think quick and splutter before I start puttin’ your eyes out.”
I get up an’ he gets up too. He is movin’ pretty slow because he has got his hand to his throat an’ I reckon that he is hurt some. The pressure I put on his throat would have strangled a coupla ordinary guys. He makes as though he is goin’ to sit down on a chair that is standin’ by the wall when suddenly he makes a dive for the door.
I have been expectin’ somethin’ like this, an’ I get there first. I slam him one into under the heart with my right an’ I follow with a left hook to the jaw. He tries to shape up an’ so I give him a smasher on the mouth, an’ what his teeth don’t do to my knuckles is nobody’s business. He goes down with a wallop an’ I pick him up with my left hand an’ smack him down with my right again just for luck because these mobsters like Skendall are just a pain in the neck to me anyway.
I sit down an’ watch him. He is pretty well finished. He crawls up to his feet an’ flops down in the chair by the wall with his head lollin’ an’ his tongue hangin’ out. I reckon this guy is about all out for none.
“O.K. little precious,” I tell him. “Maybe you won’t start gettin’ funny around here any more, because if you do I’m goin’ to give you some treatment that I learned off the Phillipinos on the Islands, an’ very likely you will be nutty when I have done with you. Now are you goin’ to talk turkey or do I really get to work on you?”
He nods his head weakly. The last bust in the puss I have given him has hurt him an’ there is a tear stealin’ down one of his cheeks.
“Just too bad, ain’t it?” I tell him. “It’s O.K. for you guys when you are shootin’ people in the dark at restaurant tables or givin’ guys like Mellander the heat in call boxes, but when you get a smack in the puss yourself it don’t feel so good, does it?”
“O.K.” he mutters. “I’m talkin’.... Ouch....” He lets go a groan, an’ is swayin’ so that it looks as if he is goin’ to fall off his chair. I fall for this an’ seein’ that this guy is pretty badly knocked about I get up an’ go over to him; but as I am gettin’ near him I see his eyes move to the door an’ I spin around.
In the doorway is the guy from the garage an’ he has got a rod in his hand an’ as I jump he squeezes it.
I feel the bullet cut through the sleeve of my coat just above the elbow, an’ before he can fire again I am on him.
I’m tellin’ you that I am annoyed. I reckon that there is plenty trouble in this world without any more from these lousy bums who are always durn brave when the other guy ain’t got a gun. I fix this guy.
I punch seventeen different kinds of hell out of him. I paste him until he don’t know which way he’s pointin’ or what his name is, an’ by the time I have finished bustin’ these two guys around the place I am really beginnin’ to take an interest in the job. I just put my heart right into my work.
I lay off ’em when the garage guy is layin’ on his face in the corner cryin’ like he was needin’ his mammy, an’ Skendall has only got two teeth left, then I pick up my gun an’ put it in my pocket. I take the shells out of the garage guy’s gun an’ throw it in the corner, an’ then I run downstairs an’ pull the garage shutters down. I close the place up, lock the doors, turn off the lights, an’ then I go back again to my little playmates upstairs.
They are still lyin’ where I left ’em, an’ they are not takin’ any interest in anything at all.
I walk along the passage an’ I find a bathroom. I full a jug with water an’ I bring it back an’ throw it over these two heroes. Then I give ’em a drink out of the rye flask I have got in my hip pocket an’ sit ’em both up on the bed like nice children.
Skendall does a bit of weavin’ about an’ then he opens his eyes an’ sits up an’ takes notice. His face looks like a map of China an’ the garage guy’s would have won prizes in the blancmange business.
I sit there lookin’ at them. I wait two three minutes till they have got their wits about them an’ then I dive into my secret pocket an’ I bring out my Federal badge. I flash it at ’em.
“My name’s Caution,” I tell ’em. “Lemmy Caution. The guy who bust the Siegella outfit. The guy who brought in Mirandaz and Yellt. I wiped out the Green gang in Arkansas an’ I pulled in Willie Jerelderez who used to like to see guys die slow.
“Now listen. You guys are either goin’ to spill the beans or you’re goin’ to Headquarters booked on a charge of first degree murder of Willie the Goop and Harvest V. Mellander, an’ an attempted murder charge of me — a Federal Agent. I know you never killed either of those guys but I’ll pin it on you an’ you’ll fry for it.
“Now are you talkin’ or are you talkin’?”
Skendall’s eyes are poppin’.
“Jeez,” he mutters.... “Lemmy Caution.... We give up. We’re talkin’.”
V. RUDY GETS TOUGH
OVER IN THE corner I see a box of cigars, so I help myself to one, an’ I make myself comfortable in a big chair that I pull outa the corner of the room. I have got the Luger lyin’ on my knee just in case these guys should think they’ve got a chance to try somethin’, although from the looks of it I do not think they will ever try a muscle act with anybody any more.
“Now listen,” I tell ’em, “if you guys wanta make it easy for yourselves you’re goin to be wise palookas an’ come clean. You’re in one big spot an’ you know it. The only chance you’ve got is to shoot the works, an’ what you’ve got to do right now is to answer the questions I’m goin’ to ask you an’ no holdin’ out.
“Now first of all I wanta know what you know about the Mellander bump-off last night.”
Skendall licks his lips.
“Honest, Mr. Caution,” he says, “we don’t know a thing. How that guy got his I don’t know an’ who stuck him up in that call-box is nobody’s business. But I do know one thing, it wasn’t Rudy Saltierra who done it, an’ I’ll tell you for why. I was workin’ back-stage the whole evenin’ an’ the first time Rudy went on the club floor was when he went through the pass door with this de la Rue dame — the one they call Poison Ivy — an’ this guy Willie the Goop just before she sang her number.”
“How did that dame get the monniker?” I ask him, “An what do you know about her anyway?”
He grins.
“She’s a hot mamma alright,” he says. “An’ has she got what it takes or has she? I’d take a chance an’ leave home myself if I could get my hooks on a honey like that — Poison Ivy or no Poison Ivy.”
He takes a pull at himself an’ I can see that his mind has been strayin’ from business — if you know what I mean — an’ I don’t exactly blame him because this dame has certainly got the works. When they was handin’ out the sex appeal they gave her an extra wallop for luck.
Skendall sorta sighs an’ then he goes on.
“Rudy picked her up some place. She was singin’ in some little dump; had got herself a trial night an’ some playboy that Rudy was acquainted with an’ who was tryin’ to make this dame takes Rudy along just so’s to stop any opposition from one or two other tough guys who was also tryin’ to get a drag on Carlotta. Well, Rudy goes along an’ this dame takes a peek at him an’ lamps his diamond waistcoat buttons an’ then she gives him one of them look-me-over-kid-I’m-hard-to-get sorta looks, an’ Rudy falls like the guy who fell off the Empire State Roof. He goes bats about this dame an’ in about two days she’s got him right where she wants him, an’ he ain’t been the same guy ever since. All he thinks of now is just bustin’ things wide open so’s he can make a lotta jack an’ get spliced up with this baby. But I reckon she’s playin’ him for a sucker because I usta see a lotta things at that place of Joe’s an’ I reckon that she was out for Willie the Goop who was more her style an’ who they say would be durn rich one day.”
I nod.
“How did Saltierra get into the club from back-stage?” I ask.
“He came in the back way,” says Skendall. “There’s a little door at the back that the staff uses. He always used to come in that way an’ he used to leave his hat in her dressin’ room.”
“O.K.” I say. “Now what about Willie? It was Saltierra fixed him, wasn’t it?”
Skendall nodded.
“It was him all right,” he said. “While the dame was singin’ her number I saw him easin’ across the stage at the back. He’d got his hand in his tuxedo pocket an’ I knew he was goin’ to bump somebody. Just when he gets underneath my perch he looks at me an’ winks. Then he pulls the gun outa his pocket, an’ I can see him lookin’ at the silencer on the barrel. Then he puts his hand — the one with the gun in it — behind his back an’ he opens the pass door an’ goes through.
“He comes back right after an’ he looks up at me an’ says. ‘Don’t forget that I ain’t been outa that dressing room over there. Remember you can see the door from that perch. Got that? ‘“
He shrugs his shoulders.
“An’ what was I to do?” he says. “I ain’t takin’ no chances with Rudy Saltierra.”
I grin.
“So he’s tough, is he?” I said. “Now what did he want to shoot Willie the Goop for?”
He shrugs his shoulders some more.
“Search me,” he says. “I don’t know, but I reckon he’s gotta way of fixing anybody that he don’t want kickin’ around. I wouldn’t mind seein’ him fried,” says this Skendall, “so long as he didn’t get me first, because I wouldn’t be the first guy in my family that he’s fixed.”
I look at him.
“Yeah,” I say, “who else has he been executin’?”
“He creased my brother,” said Skendall, “an’ I ain’t forgot that yet. He bust him over the head with a bottle just because he’d had one or two too many an’ gotta bit fresh.”
I do a big memory act an’ I remember the original guy that Duncan told me about — the fellow who talked about this gold snatch in his delirium — was hit over the head with a bottle. I nod my head.
“This was the guy who died down in Bellevue without comin’ round, wasn’t it?” I say. “What was he doin’ with Saltierra anyhow?”
He grins.
“He was a big guy with Saltierra,” says Skendall, “he knew all his business, but he was a close cuss an’ he never talked to me. He got me that job around Joe Madrigaul’s place, an’ Saltierra used to look after me. He’d slip me fifty or a hundred dollars every week just for doin’ my job there an’ for doin’ any odd thing he wanted done.”
I turn to the other guy.
“An’ what about you,” I say.
He looks up.
“I don’t know a thing,” he says. “All I know is I run the garage here. It belongs to Saltierra. I look after the cars an’ I keep ’em fit to go out on the road. This guy got me my job.”
“That’s right,” says Skendall. “He didn’t know a thing. He knows this place is screwy an’ he knows it is a hang-out of Saltierra’s. Say, can I have a smoke?”
I threw him across a cigarette an’ he feels in his jeans for some matches an’ lights it.
“We ain’t big timers with Saltierra,” he goes on, “I reckon he don’t tell anybody much his business except maybe that dame Carlotta.”
“Oh yeah,” I say, “the dame. Tell me about her.”
Skendall laughs, at least he tries to an’ he stops when his face hurts him.
“He’s nuts about her. Just plain nuts. Everybody knows he’s bats about her an’ I reckon she’ll give him the works.”
The cigar is not so hot so I throw it away an’ light myself a cigarette.
“So she’s a hot momma,” I say.
He grins.
“An’ how,” he says. “I reckon that she an’ Saltierra was takin’ this guy Willie the Goop for plenty.”
“Where did this Willie the Goop get his dough from?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t know that,” he says, “but I know he had plenty, an’ I know that this dame Carlotta was playin’ him along, an’ I know that Saltierra knew it. I’ve seen ’em winkin’ at each other behind his back.”
“O.K.” I say, “an’ that’s all you guys know?”
Both these guys hold their heads an’ the way they do it makes me grin because they have got a swell pair of stiff necks between them through trying to get rough with me.
“Listen Skendall,” I say, “there’s just one more little thing. Where is Rudy Saltierra hangin’ out? Has he got one dump or more? Where does he live an’ has he got an office?”
Skendall hesitates for a bit an’ I think that maybe he will hold out on me, but he does a bit more thinkin’ an’ then comes across.
“He’s got a place on Ninth Avenue,” he says — he gives me the number— “You go up the stairs,” he goes on, “an’ when you get to the top there’s the front door of an apartment right in front of you. That’s where he hangs out. But this apartment is a sorta office dump, although its furnished to look like an apartment. Rudy lives in the flat next door, the one on the left as you stand facing the door of the screwy one. All he did was to knock a door through the wall and stick a bookcase arrangement in front of it. He’s at this dump pretty well every night. That’s where the guys come to see him. When he wants to be out he just goes into the dump next door an’ there you are. After that I don’t know a thing.”
