The Deadly Game

by Norman Daniels

  I said, "I admire your eloquence. Now tell me about the one who was different."

  "You mean Gerard Dennis." He continued like a straight man. "Sure, they had him down on the books as a gent. Well, maybe he did have more brains than the average mug, but he swiped half a million bucks and what did he do with it? Threw it away on women, got himself caught through one of them and where is he now? In stir."

  I put a puzzled frown on my face. "I still don't know what you're driving at, Jack."

  "Which proves you're a stupid jerk just like all other crooks. Listen, Mike, this setup—" He waved his hand at the office—"doesn't fool me one bit. Neither does that flash broad in the front office nor the two hundred dollar suit you wear. You're a punk and you always will be."

  I took my feet off the desk. "I resent the fact that you called Miss Montinez a broad. As for the rest of it, I'd like to call in a witness and have you repeat it all. Let's see you do that, Kane. Go ahead—back yourself up."

  "You'd sue the pants off me," he said with a growl. "And maybe get away with it too, because people are dopes. Especially people on juries. I'm not falling into that trap."

  "Then stop calling me names and get down to facts. If I'm supposed to have robbed somebody, tell me about it and I'll try to prove I didn't. Otherwise you can do one of two things. Get the hell out of my office or arrest me."

  He took a black cigar from his pocket. It was a cheap one without cellophane; some of the dark wrapper had peeled off. He licked the whole thing like a dog licking an ice cream cone, bit off the end and pursed his lips as if to spit it out on my floor. I made a few noises in my throat. He behaved himself, simply lit up and smoked.

  "Last night," he went on. "Somebody did get Mrs. Cooper's necklace, along with a couple of other doodads. If she'd been a reasonable woman, it wouldn't have happened. I wanted to put a man on her tail, but she refused pointblank."

  I thought I knew the reason why—Jim Fielding. "Mrs. Cooper was at the party last night and she wasn't wearing her necklace. I'm sure of that," I said.

  "No, she didn't wear it. She left it at home—hidden, she says. I'd done what I could. I knew she'd seen you and you'd handled the necklace. I persuaded her to let me put a new lock on her door, and there was only one key to it. Just one, Sloan, and she carried it with her. She had it last night at the party you both attended."

  "All right," I said. "She had a key. So what?

  "So somebody opened that lock with a key. Let me repeat-there was only one and she didn't have it long enough for a duplicate to be made."

  I let out a curt laugh. "Kane, you've been a cop too long. You're getting dull-witted. There are guys who can open any lock, most of them with a hairpin."

  "Not this one—or at least we'd have known if it was picked. Her key was used."

  "Did she say I took the key?"

  "She did not—yet. But she's outside, and we're going to thrash this out now. If I find you came close enough to her to swipe that key, I’ll jug you, Mike. I swear I will."

  "Bring her in," I invited, wondering what he thought this would prove. Perhaps in his simple dumb way he thought I'd break down when confronted by her. Mrs. Cooper was undoubtedly the danger Mona had signaled about.

  Kane went to the door, opened it and beckoned to her. She wasn't too eager. I arose and offered her my hand. "I'm sorry about the necklace, Mrs. Cooper. It seems that Captain Kane has a slightly exaggerated idea that I stole it."

  "You, Mr. Sloan?' she gasped. "But really, I made no such accusation."

  Kane said, "He knows that, Mrs. Cooper. You understand we have to follow all the leads. Now we know your apartment door was opened with your key. It had to be. There just wasn't any other way to get in. Sloan, here, knew you owned the necklace, knew its value. He was also at Fielding's party last night, and it's conceivable he could have had something to do with it."

  "But, Captain Kane," she protested. "Why, I've known Mr. Sloan a long time. He's had the necklace more than once—had it for a couple of days. If he's a thief, why didn't he steal it then?"

  Kane said, "Look, Mrs. Cooper, I'm not accusing him. I did not say, at any time, that Sloan is a thief. I only want to know if it was possible that he could have sneaked that key away from you."

  She looked at Kane, then at me and then back at Kane again. She was confused—and with good reason.

  I said, "Mrs. Cooper, the Captain might be a triffle crude in the way he puts his questions. Let me try it. Where did you keep the key?"

  "Why—my evening bag."

  "I see. Now did you put me in possession of that evening bag at any time last night?"

  "Of course not."

  "Did you at any time put it down? So that I might have—shall we say—opened it?"

  She hesitated. "Why, I . . . that is . . ."

  Kane never was the patient type. "Did you or did you not put that bag down last night? At any time?"

  "No," she said. "No, I did not."

  I said, "There you are, Captain. Is there anything else?"

  "No," he said curtly and angrily. "All right, Mrs. Cooper, I'll be with you in a minute."

  She walked to the door and turned her head around before she opened it. She gave me an inquisitive and doubtful look. Then she went out.

  Kane towered over me again. "You're a smart cookie, Mike. Some day I'll find out how you lifted that key. It'll get me a promotion, but more than that it'll stick you in a cell where you belong. Remember what I said—a jewel thief is no different from any other crook. He always makes a slip. When you do, I'll be waiting and in the meantime I’ll make life as miserable for you as I possibly can."

  If I'd made up my mind never to pull another job, I would have changed it then just to show up this stupid bastard.

  He waited to see if I'd make some crack. I didn't—I just ignored him and pretended large preoccupation with a pile of letters on my desk. He slammed the door again when he left. I stayed with the mail.

  Mona came in soon afterwards and she looked worried.

  "Kane bothers me, Mike. He's too damned persistent. He comes here after every job that's pulled, whether it's yours or not."

  "Let him be, baby. So long as he can't get anything on me, we're having the fun, not him."

  "But it's getting too dangerous. Suppose Mrs. Cooper had put her evening bag down where you might have picked it up . . ."

  "She did, sweetheart. How else could I have borrowed the key? But right after she put it down, she went to bed with our host, and I don't think Mrs. Cooper would like to admit that"

  "Then do you think she might suspect?"

  "Who cares? There isn't a thing she can do about it. Stop worrying, Mona, for God's sake. We're in the clear and you'll feel better if you remember that."

  "Yes, Mike. But I've been thinking." She paused, then added, "Look, Mike, promise me you'll lay off for a while. We've got enough legitimate business to carry us. It could even grow if you paid more attention to it."

  I said, "Sure, we'll lay low."

  She hoisted herself up to the edge of the desk. "I don't like the way you just said that—nor the gleam in your eyes. Mike, have you another job planned?"

  I said, "Okay, maybe I have. First, go out front and select a necklace. Any kind you like and put it on. I want to try something."

  She didn't seem too keen on the idea, but her curiosity was aroused and she went out. I opened a desk drawer and took out a slim, rod-like tool that I thrust under my shirt, next to my skin, and held there with an elbow. Then I turned on the small radio we use for news flashes, tuned in on a dance band, and when Mona came in, I saw that she wore a single strand, pearl necklace. That suited me fine.

  "Now what happens?" she asked.

  "The music," I said, "is perfect for dancing and I haven't danced with you in a long time. Besides, you're jittery and dancing is good for the nerves."

  Before she could protest, I had her in my arms and moved her across the floor. After a little bit, she stopped being stiff an
d fell naturally into the rhythm and my lead. Mona was a first-rate dancer, responsive and soft.

  We continued until the record was over and the announcer started a commercial. I walked around and sat down behind my desk. Mona stood facing me.

  "I still don't get it, darling. I was to put on a necklace—"

  "What necklace?" I asked with a straight face.

  Her fingers flew to her throat. The necklace was, of course, gone. For a moment she went white and then started looking around the floor. Then she heard me laughing. I stuck out my hand, opened the fingers and showed her the pearls.

  "Are you looking for these, baby?"

  The color rushed back to her cheeks. "Damn you, Mike you lifted those—"

  "And you never knew it. You felt absolutely nothing."

  "But, Mike—how?"

  I showed her the rod-like instrument I'd dreamed up quit a while before and had finally perfected.

  "With—that?" she asked in considerable awe.

  I showed her how it worked. "A touch at the base sends up a clipper that could cut through steel as if it were cheese. Now look on either side of the tiny clipper. See that tiny pincer-like hook? What's the greatest danger in stealing a necklace off a woman's neck without her knowing it? The fear of dropping it. With this hook you can't. All I have to do is maneuver the lady to a point where nobody can see me operate. Then, in less than three or four seconds, I have the necklace off and in my pocket."

  She wanted to handle the instrument, so I gave it to her. She tried it out, marveling at its efficiency.

  I said, "Another small item not to be overlooked. That gadget has to be carried next to the skin for a long enough period to make it warm with body heat. Then, if I touch the victim's neck, she doesn't feel any metallic cold. You didn't feel a thing, Mona, and yet I touched your neck with it—deliberately."

  "Mike, this is wonderful. You could even make this thing look like a metal pencil. Just slip the tip off when you want to use it."

  I nodded. "I wondered if you'd come up with something like that. It's a great idea and I'll get to work on it. There's plenty of time before I'll want to use it."

  She said, "Then you do have a certain job in mind?"

  "Of course. Did you think I'd sit still just because of Kane? Mona, I'm going after the Brindley pearls."

  "Captain Kane probably knows you had them in here for cleaning and restringing, Mike. He’ll have those pearls watched like the crown jewels."

  "Do you think he could catch me removing them? Honestly now, Mona. With the use of this instrument do you believe Kane would know?"

  "Probably not, and Mrs. Brindley wouldn't even miss them for hours, but count me out."

  "Mona, I never thought you'd get cold feet"

  "Uh-uh, darling. Not cold feet. Cold heart—because I still think this is too dangerous. I don't want you to pull it."

  I rolled the instrument in a piece of flannel cloth and stowed it away in my desk. "I have to, baby," I said. "I want to. Mrs. Brindley takes that necklace out of the bank once or twice a year. She'll wear it at the Fairweather Ball, and that comes off in two weeks. I've already been invited."

  "Captain Kane will have that affair covered as airtight as a plastic bag."

  "I can handle it, baby," I said again.

  Mona came around behind the desk. "You know how I feel, Mike. I'm just worried, that's all. Kane's getting too close."

  "So are you, baby," I said reaching for her. "Remember these are business hours."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It's my nature never to worry, so that's perhaps why I grossly underestimated Captain Kane. I began finding out what he could do a couple of days later. First of all, diamond merchants don't just go out and buy stones when and where they want to. Diamonds are a tightly controlled commodity under a strictly closed corporation. Fresh stones are sold only once or twice a year, at what is known as a diamond auction to which you have to be invited. No invitation, no bidding. I'd come a good distance in the past three years and I'd been buying special diamonds as a matter of course. I was all set for the auction and when an invitation didn't arrive, I thought it was just an oversight and I called up the secretary to get one.

  I was told, rather coldly, that my name wasn't on the list and it was not an oversight. There was nothing I could do. Of course this couldn't stop me from getting diamonds. I could purchase them from men who did attend the auction, but I wouldn't have my pick and I'd have to pay the buyer a profit besides.

  That Kane could be responsible for this seemed awfully remote, so I just put it down to the stupidity of somebody connected with the monopoly. However, a few days later I tried to get credit from a bank and was turned down even though my credit standing was tops. They said something about risks involved with gem merchants in these days of crazy taxes and inflation. I got the money from another bank where I'd never done any business before, but I had to put up some of my personal securities to get it. Still I didn't connect Kane with my troubles.

  I first became suspicious when I visited old Marty Carroll and tried to dispose of some of the surplus stones I'd accumulated over a period of time. Marty knew they were stolen, but they were not at all heated up with publicity or even recognizable as loot from a job.

  Marty said, "I'm sorry, Mike. You just got yourself in wrong lately. Don't ask me any questions and don't come here any more. It ain't that I don't like you or the kind of business you bring, but the pressure—you know how it is."

  This really made me hot. I slammed out of his shop. The cops knew what Marty was even though they'd never proven anything, and yet they could scare him like this. It had to be Kane's work. I could almost smell it. Just to make certain, I went around to one of the fancy hotels and called Ernest Haver's suite, toting my anger like a ball and chain.

  Haver was a fingerman. He wasn't a thief himself, but he would set the stage for the actual crook and he'd helped me a couple of times. Haver maintained a spot in society where he was accepted everywhere and believed to be a personable young man of pleasant character and with money from the estate of a remote relative. With Ernie Haver, a crook paid off handsomely because he was always worth his big cut. I had feathered his nest plenty.

  Haver said, "Oh, it's you, Mike. I'm sorry, but you can't come up. I—I've got someone with me . . . "

  I dropped the phone on the hook in the lobby booth, boarded an elevator and in a few seconds I was hammering on Ernie's door. I said, "Open up, Ernie, or I'll cave the door in. I mean it."

  He must have believed me because he opened up while my hand was still on the door. Ernie was in an opulent dressing gown and he wore a highball in his left fist.

  He said, "Mike, I told you . . . "

  I strolled past him and investigated the other two rooms of his suite. There was nobody with him. I came back to the living room and fixed myself a drink from his bar. Then I sat down.

  "What's the matter, Ernie?" I asked. "Don't you think I can take bad news?"

  He shrugged. "I said I was sorry, Mike. I am."

  "Who rolled out a blackball for me, Ernie?"

  "Mike, you know how it is . . ."

  "Who, Ernie? Who?"

  "Nobody. That is—well . . ."

  I tilted the glass, drank the whole highball down and then put the glass on the table. I got up and walked over to where he was sitting. Ernie looked the part he acted. A thin guy with a thin mustache, a rather undeveloped chin, but handsome in spite of it. He looked like a guy who could energetically play-boy all day and night, but I knew his greatest amount of exercise came from lifting and putting down a glass.

  I grabbed him by the lapels of his dressing gown, hauled him to his feet and pulled his face to within a couple of inches of mine.

  "I asked you a question, Ernie. All over town I'm losing contacts. Not because of anything I've done, but because of pressure. I think I know who is turning the screws, but I want to be sure. So I'm asking you again."

  He tried to pull free of my grasp. "Mike,
I can't . . ." he whined.

  I let go of him with my right hand, slapped him hard and slapped him again. "I can keep this up a long time, pal. I hate to do it, but I can. Tell me who did this and I promise not to come back."

  "God damn you, Mike," he whimpered.

  I slapped him half a dozen more times and I was just getting ready to use knuckles on him when he broke.

  "It was Captain Kane—you knew that. Let go of me, Mike. I'm not the kind of a guy who wants to hate you."

  I let go of him. 'To hell with you, Ernie. I don't need you."

  I jammed on my hat and walked out. I didn't know what to do with myself and, as usual, I gravitated toward Mona's apartment. I wasn't looking for any consolation or forgetfulness tonight. All I wanted was someone to talk to, and Mona could be a fine listener.

  She listened now. I was half aware that the gown she wore was low, but so were my spirits just then. I started getting my troubles off my mind.

  "Kane has gone too far, baby. He's blackballed me with the diamond syndicate auctions, with banks I usually do business with. He's intimidated a guy who buys my surplus stuff and he put his own dirty thumb on the best fingerman in the business. Ernie Haver told me it was Kane."

  "I knew it," Mona said. "I was sure Kane would do something like that."

  "He won't stop me," I said.

  Mona stuck a cigarette between her lips, but had difficulty lighting it with hands that shook too much. I snapped on my lighter and held it for her.

  "Mike, if he's gone to all that trouble, he's gone further. I'm betting you're being tailed around the clock."

  I hadn't thought of that; there hadn't been time. Now that I did I didn't like the idea. It was more than possible however. Once the Robbery Detail decides a man is a thief, they'll spend weeks just following him around.

  I had a cigarette of my own. I blew smoke toward the ceiling and followed it with my eyes. I said, "I wonder if Kane ever slipped somewhere along the line. A man who works as he does is capable of snide tricks and maybe a little larceny on the side."