Complete works of peter.., p.78
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 78
He looks at me an' a sorta odd grin flickers across his face. He don't say nothin'.
"You listen to what I am goin' to say, Joe," I tell him, "an' you try an' be nice an' helpful. Maybe if you are, things will be a little bit easier for you, because if you ain't you're sure goin' to have a tough time."
He grins some more. "I get you, Mr. Caution," he says. "Let's hear the story. Maybe I'll talk an' maybe I won't. Who knows?"
"I do, Joe," I tell him. "You're goin' to talk, baby, an' you're goin' to like it, so let's get that straight before we start.
"First of all," I tell him, "you will probably wanta know just how I knew you was here. This is the sorta thing that would arouse your curiosity, an' I'm goin' to be perfectly straight with you. Somebody sends me a printed throw-out for this dump," I tell him, "an' written along the side of the bill is a little pencil message that if I'm tryin' to find you, maybe I'll find you here. Well, it didn't take me very long to work out who it was would be the most likely person to send me that message. I reckon it would be Toots, the blonde baby."
I feel in my pocket an' I take out the bill. I get up an' I go across to him with the bill held out in my hand.
"Now look, Joe," I tell him, "I want you to take a look at that bill an' tell me if that ain't Toot's handwriting."
I give him the bill an' he looks at it. While I am standin' there I put my hand under the pillow. Sure enough there is an old Colt .45 there loaded up to the brim. I stick it in my coat pocket. He sees me do this, an' he looks a bit regretful. Maybe he was fond of that gun.
"That's O.K.," he says, "it's that blonde dame's hand-writin', an' how did you guess it was her?"
"Work it out for yourself. Joe," I tell him. "The way I figured it out was this: For some reason or other which we do not know at the moment you an' Toots decided to part company. You was both on the run. You knew that the cops were lookin' for both ol you.
"Now I have always found that if there is a time when crooks disagree it is when they are being chased by cops. They get sorta nervy, you know, Joe, they begin to hate each other plenty. So I figured that Toots took a run-out powder on you, but she wasn't content to do just that thing. She was still frightened, see? She was afraid that the next time you came across her you might maybe use that shootin' iron of yours on her, so what does she do? She sends me this throw-out bill, so's I'm goin' to know where you are, so's I will pinch you. Then with you in the cooler she will be safe, won't she?"
He looks across at me an' grins.
"Ain't you clever, fly cop?" he says.
"You're sayin' it, Joe," I tell him. "Me I am the original brain trust. Now, Joe," I go on, "the question I wanta ask you is this. Why is it that Toots is so frightened of you? She ain't afraid of you just because she took a run-out powder on you. Dames have taken run-outs on guys before, but that don't mean to say the guy wants to shoot 'em. There is something else behind it, ain't there, Joe, an' shall I tell you what I think it is? Ain't it a fact that Toots was stringin' along with you in the first place because she couldn't do anything else? Ain't it a fact that Rudy Spigla had told her she'd gotta string along with you, an' that if she tried to take a run-out powder on you or pull any funny business you'd give her the heat?"
Joe hands me back the bill. I take it an' put it in my pocket.
"Are you askin' me or tellin' me?" he says. "I ain't talkin'."
"Just fancy that now, Joe," I tell him. "So you ain't talkin'. Well, maybe you will feel a bit more like talkin' when they put you in the electric chair an' turn on the sizzler. I've seen tough guys like you before, but they always talk some time."
He looks a little bit more interested. "Yeah?" he says. "Well what I gotta talk about? I ain't bumped anybody. Say," he goes on, "are you tryin' to hang this Marella Thorensen bump-off on to me?"
"Not on your life," I tell him. "I don't believe you ever bumped Marella Thorensen, but you did bump Gluck, the morgue attendant, didn't you, Joe? I reckon you was the guy who did that."
"Oh yeah?" he says. "Well, it's your business to prove that, ain't it?"
I can see that this bozo is goin' to be difficult.
"Look, Joe," I tell him, "why don't you have a break? I ain't askin' you to make any statements or confessions. I'm askin' you to tell me if I'm right or wrong on one or two points. Look, tell me this an' it won't do you any harm. When was it that Rudy Spigla first started to go out to the Villa Rosalito? Was it about six months ago?"
He puts on a surprised look.
"So Spigla went out to the Villa, did he?" he says. "Just fancy that now."
"Not only did he got out there, but you knew it, Joe," I tell him. "I reckon there ain't very much that Rudy Spigla has been doin' around this man's town that you don't know about, as for instance," I tell him, "maybe it was you who drove out to the Villa Rosalito after Marella Thorensen was bumped, stuck her body in a car an' chucked it into the harbour, an' that, Joe," I go on, "is usually called bein' an accessory to first degree murder. Another thing," I tell him, "I reckon you are probably the guy who rang through to the Harbour Squad an' told 'em that there was a body floatin' about in the New York dock. Joe, I reckon you know plenty."
He grins. He sits there lookin' like nothin' on earth with a sorta easy smile on his pan that gives me one big pain in the ear.
You gotta realise I ain't got any use for guys like Joe Mitzler. They are all bums. They just string around causin' plenty trouble for one an' all. They are the toughs who do the jobs, the guys who tote guns for the bigger guys. They are just a lousy lotta heels an' they make me sick.
But this palooka has got somethin' up his sleeve, I sorta sense that. I sorta sense that he ain't worryin' too much about me, an' that that is why he is bein' so saucy. Yet this guy knows that if I take him down to the Precinct an' book him the cops down there will give him a rough workin' over that he will never forget if I just give 'em the say so.
Suddenly I get to thinkin' of Oklahoma Joe down stairs. Now it stands to reason that Oklahoma Joe is the guy who has provided Joe Mitzler with a hide-out an' therefore may be considered to be a friend of his. This bein' so, an' knowin' I was a dick, I am wonderin' why Oklahoma was ready an' willin' to give away the fact that Joe Mitzler had gotta gun, especially when he knew that Joe had said he didn't wanta be taken.
I suddenly get the reason. The reason is that Joe has gotta another gun somewhere. The scheme is then a clever one, ain't it, because directly I got the gun from under the pillow I ain't afraid of what Joe may do, am I? The idea is that I will relax an' put my own gun away. After which Joe can produce his other rod an' get busy on me.
This may be the right idea, an' then again it might not. Maybe Joe Mitzler ain't afraid of bein' pinched, an' the only reason that he would have for not bein' afraid of bein' pinched is that he thinks we haven't got any sorta case against him; that he thinks we can't hang either the shootin' of the morgue attendant, Gluck, or the killin' of Marella onta him.
An' Joe is workin' for Rudy Spigla. I am as certain of that as I am that my name's Caution, an' the work he is doin' for Spigla is work that has been done behind Jack Rocca's back, that is another certainty, an' it is for this reason that Joe is hi din' out in the dump of a guy who is not very partial to Rocca.
But there is only one way for me to find out for sure, an' that is for me to put my own gun away, give Joe Mitzler a chance to pull a fast one, an' then see what he does. Well, I reckon I can take a chance as well as any other guy. I lean back in the chair an' I put the Luger back in the holster under my arm, an' I take out my cigarette pack an' get another one out. I am just lightin' it, watchin' Joe outa the corner of my eye, when he pulls it.
He sticks his hand in his shirt an' he pulls out a little .22 automatic that he has got there, an' he sits there lookin' at me an' grinnin' like all the apgs in Hell. I grin back at him.
"Me, I'm surprised at you, Joe," I tell him. "I never thought to see you usin' one of them sissy guns that was made for women."
This gives me an idea.
"But maybe, Joe," I go on, "that was the gun you shot Marella with."
"You're a lousy liar, Caution," says Joe. "I never gave it to Marella, an' if I had I certainly wouldn'ta used this gun. Me, I like a big gun like the one you just grabbed from under the pillow. I ain't ever used this little rod before, but I'm goin' to have a lot of pleasure in tryin' it out on you."
He grins some more. He is a tough guy is Joe, an' I reckon he will kill me just as easy as shellin' a pea. It won't even keep him awake for five minutes any night afterwards, either. That baby is a tough as French nails.
"How come, Joe?" I ask him. "Don't you think you're takin' a whole lotta chances when you start aimin' to bump off Federal Officers? They got a nice hot seat for guys who do that."
"Yeah," he says. "Well, here's one guy they ain't goin' to get. How're they goin' to know that I done it, an' they gotta prove it, ain't they? I reckon that Oklahoma downstairs will prove that you never come here to-night, an' that I never been outa this dump, so how're they goin' to know it's me done it?"
"They'll prove it all right," I tell him. "I reckon they know it was you who chucked Marella inta the dock, an' I reckon they know it was you put that phoney telephone call through to the Harbour Squad to say that there was a body floatin' about. They can do a bit more guessin', can't they?"
"Sure they can," he says. "An' I'll tell you somethin', Caution. It was me that chucked Marella in the dock, an' it was me that put the call through, but the information ain't goin' to be any good to you because I am now goin' to give you some hot lead right in the place where it acts just like a sleepin' draught, after which maybe some friends of mine will chuck you in the harbour too. Just so's to keep everything nice an' square."
I am not feelin' so good. Maybe I was a mug to take a chance with a guy like Joe. I watch him as he heaves himself up to his feet. As he does so he turns the little automatic around in his hand an' do I get one big kick or do I, because this big mug has forgot to push the safety catch down. I remember that he has said that he ain't never used an automatic before, an' it looks like he don't know that there is a thumb safety catch on an automatic.
"How're you goin' to have it?" he says. "In the front or the back, an' would you like it through the head or in the guts? They say it hurts plenty there."
I get up. He sticks the gun up a bit higher. It is pointin' at my chest.
"Ain't there goin' to be a lotta trouble when you shoot that gun off, Joe?" I ask him. "Maybe somebody is goin' to hear."
"I should worry," he says. "They are all friends of mine around here."
I drop my head an' take a dive for him. I hear him curse as he squeezes the trigger an' the gun don't fire. Right then I hit him in the stomach with my head, an' I follow it with a left an' right inta his stomach. Then, I step back an' take a kick at him an' my foot arrives. I catch him a beauty right on the bread pan, an' he lets go a helluva whimper an' drops. I reckon I have hurt this guy.
I take the little automatic off him. I was right the safety catch is on. He just didn't know about it. I slip it in my pocket.
Joe is lyin' on the floor writhin' about. He is not feelin' so good. I reckon he won't cause anythin' to happen for a few minutes so I ease over to the door an' go downstairs, nice an' quiet, with the Luger in my hand. Down at the bottom, I find Oklahoma waitin'. He looks plenty surprised to see me.
"Hi'yah, Oklahoma?" I tell him. "You got a telephone here?"
He says yes. I show him the Luger.
"Get through to Police Headquarters," I tell him, "an' tell 'em Mr. Caution wants a patrol wagon sent around here to pick up Joe Mitzler an' Oklahoma Joe, an' be plenty quick about it."
"What the hell?" he says. "You ain't got nothin' on me. I ain't done a thing."
I prod him inta the room on the ground floor where the telephone is. Just to help things along I smack him one across the snoot that is a honey. All the while he is telephonin' he is tryin' to stop his bleedin' with a handkerchief that never went near a laundry in its life.
While we are waitin' for the wagon I make him go up the stairs in front of me an' bring Joe down. Joe is not at all well. I have kicked this guy so hard that he looks like he is goin' to have a permanent kink in him, an' I gotta admit that this thought gives me a certain amount of pleasure because I am not very partial to guys like Joe Mitzler.
We park Joe on a chair in the corner of the room. He is whinin' a lot an' tryin' to make out that he is goin' to be sick. I light myself a cigarette an' look at Oklahoma.
"Looky, Oklahoma," I tell him. "Why don't you do some quick thinkin'. That patrol wagon is goin' to be here in about ten minutes, an' in the meantime I gotta make up my mind just what I'm goin' to charge you with."
"Yeah," he says, but he don't look so pleased. "What's the choice?"
"I got plenty," I tell him. "First of all there's shelterin' an' harbourin' a crook who is on the run, an' secondly there is bein' accessory to attempt to murder a Federal Officer meanin' me, an' thirdly there is a whole lot of other charges that I can think up if I let my imagination run a bit. Well, do we deal?"
He takes a look at Joe, an' then decided that he has not got to worry a lot about Joe.
"What's the deal?" he asks.
"Just this," I tell him. "I want the low-down on this bird an' the blonde dame, Toots, that has been runnin' around with him, the frail who tipped me off where he was hidin' out. Well . . .?"
"I don't know a lot," he says. "This guy works for Rudy Spigla an' so does the dame Toots. I gotta idea that the Toots dame got her nose dirty with Spigla an' he handed her over to Joe here just so's Joe could keep a sorta fatherly eye on her an' stop her from openin' her mouth too wide."
"Swell, Oklahoma," I tell him. "You're doin' fine. You're makin' it better for yourself every minute. Now you tell me this little thing. When was it that Rudy Spigla decided that Joe oughta keep an eye on the Toots moll? Wasn't that about the time that Marella Thorensen got herself bumped off?"
"That's right," he says. "That was the time."
"O.K.," I say. "That is very good. Now you tell me another little thing. Just what was it that Toots found out that Rudy Spigla was afraid that she was goin' to spill? Wasn't Rudy afraid that Toots knew who the guy was that bumped off Marella Thorensen?"
He looks at me sorta old-fashioned"
"Maybe that was it, if it was a guy," he says.
"An' what might you mean by that crack," I ask him. " Was a guy. Are you suggestin' that it was a dame?"
He grins. "That is just what I am suggestin'," he says. "I thought maybe that it was a dame."
"Well, we'll let that go, Oklahoma," I say. "Now you tell me somethin' else. Just how long has Rudy Spigla or Jack Rocca or either or both of 'em been runnin' drugs around here?"
He looks at me some more.
"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he says.
I reckon I have got this guy at last. He was ready to talk about Joe an' Toots, but he won't talk about the thing that he is mixed up in.
"So you don't know nothin' about that?" I ask him.
"That is a thing that I certainly do not know anything about," he says. "I have said my piece an' I don't know no more."
Right then I hear the patrol wagon arrive an' in a coupla minutes the cops come in. One of O'Halloran's sergeants is in charge.
"You can pinch these two," I tell him. "The guy in the corner who looks like he needs some stomach powder is Joe Mitzler an' you can book him on a charge of attempted first-degree murder of a Federal Officer. Maybe there'll be some other raps later. As for this guy," I go on, indicatin' Oklahoma, "well, I reckon you can take him along too."
Joe looked peeved. "You are a dirty son of a so-an'-so," he says. "Didn't you say you was makin' a deal with me. I told you plenty an' now you are havin' me pinched, an' I would like to know what I am bein' pinched for."
"Sure, honeysuckle," I tell him, "and you are entitled to. I was all ready an' willin' to make a deal with you providin' you shot the works, but you didn't. You didn't tell me somethin' I wanted to know an' you are goin' to pay for not havin' done same."
"Book him on a charge of receivin' an' dealin' in narcotic drugs," I tell the sergeant.
I look at Oklahoma.
"That is the little thing you wouldn't talk about, bozo," I tell him. "An' you wouldn't talk about it because you have personally been handlin' the stuff an' I reckon when the cops take a look around here they'll find plenty evidence, too. Take 'em along, boys."
I take a long walk an' I do some heavy thinkin'. I walk back to where I left the car up on the hill, an' I drive it down to the Precinct an' park around the corner. Inside I find Brendy an' O'Halloran.
"Did you boys have some nice raids?" I ask 'em. "An' did anybody get hurt?"
"Sure," says O'Halloran. "Brendy here got hurt. He was raidin' some dump off California an' just when they are pinchin' everybody in this place some guy busts Brendy a sweet one right across the dome with a soda-water syphon."
"How come, Brendy?" I ask him. "How come that you allowed yourself to be bust a mean one like that?"
He grins. "I was lookin' outa the window," he says. "Some dame's shadow was on the blind on the other side of the road. This dame had a sweet figure too," he goes on, sorta reminiscent. "I was just thinkin' that my wife could do with a figure like that when some roughneck busts me one. I reckon my love for art is goin' to be my ruin."
He gets serious.
"Lemmy," he says. "I gotta hand it to you. We pinched a lotta people an' we've let most of 'em go. We got Rocca an' Spigla in the cooler in separate cells, an' we got one or two other guys we been lookin' for."
"What didya find in the offices, an' the truckin' garages?" I ask him. "Did you come across anything that looks like what I wanted to find?"
He grins. "Did we, boy?" he asks. "We don't find anything in any of the Rocca dumps or yet down in the garages or offices. Not one little thing. But we check up on the cars that are out an' we find that there are two trucks deliverin' silk.
"I send a coupla cruisers after 'em an' we find 'em. One is full of Lee Sam silk all right, an' the other sorta looks like it was empty; that is, until we took the false bottom outa it."
