The Deadly Game

by Norman Daniels

  "Wait a minute," Kane said. He stepped in front of Spike and slugged him on the mouth. It was a hard, vicious blow. Spike's frog eyes jumped wide open in surprise. Blood began trickling down over his chin.

  "That's a sample of what you'll get if you make a break, Kane warned. "Okay, Sloan, free him."

  I snipped the gauze. Spike brought his hands around to front and started massaging his wrists. Kane turned to me.

  "Drop down to my office in the morning. By then I'll have this bird singing sweet. The department thanks you. I don't. Come on, you oversized chunk of blubber."

  He pushed Spike toward the door. I said, "Easy, Cap; Take it easy."

  "Who are you to give me orders?" he flared. "As a private citizen, you turned a prisoner over to me. I'll handle him way I see fit"

  "You'd better put cuffs on that guy," I said. "I'd hate to have him break your neck, Captain. Think of all the money I'd lose in that law suit."

  Kane shoved Spike again. The big man offered no resistance. He never said a word, but at the door he turned around and glared at me. I broke his gun, ejected the slugs into my hand and gave the gun to Kane.

  "Not that I don't trust you, Captain, but if I was found with a slug from this rod in me, you could say Spike did it. A slug from your own gun—you'd have a hard time explaining that one. Good night, Captain."

  He shoved Spike again. I closed the door softly on them, double locked it, staggered over to a chair and sat down. I stayed there about two seconds, bobbed up again and carried the whole decanter of whisky back to the same chair. I guzzled it in mouthfuls. I couldn't even taste the stuff.

  Gradually the fuzz cleared out of my brain. I gave a short, unhappy laugh. Kane was a smart guy. Very, very clever. He hadn't even asked me what Spike was doing in my suite. Now I knew what Kane was.

  I got ready for bed, not moving very fast. The whisky had taken a secure grip and the glow felt good, but sometimes I didn't gauge things quite right. Like squeezing shaving cream on my tooth brush and laughing like hell over it. I was pleasantly plastered. Just the thing to begin a new life. It was a new life. I'd been dead forty minutes ago.

  The phone rang as I was getting into my pajamas. I made it without spilling any furniture or falling on my face. Captain Kane's voice came over the wire.

  "Sloan? No need to come to the office in the morning."

  I said, "No? What'd he do, tell all?"

  "I was taking him back in my car and he made a break for it. I killed him."

  I didn't say another word. I hung up slowly and I was as sober as the Chairwoman of the W.C.T.U.

  And I'd thought I knew what Captain Kane was! I was a fool. I didn't have as many brains as Spike had owned and I used them less. I went to the bedroom, turned down the covers and slid between the sheets. Usually I liked to be there with the light on and think. Tonight I just lay there in a semi-stupor.

  The light was still on when I woke up the next morning.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I went to the office after a late breakfast, and the first thing I did was open the vault, take out the .45 and check its ammunition. I made sure there was a slug in the firing chamber and the safety worked easily. With this heavy artillery in my hip pocket, I felt a great deal better.

  What I came to the office for I had no idea, except that it must have been done by sheer force of habit. I had nothing to sell even if a customer came in, and certainly I wasn't interested in buying. It was a quiet place, good for thinking. I did a lot of it, mostly about Sheila. I did wonder what had happened to Mona, and I was half tempted to call her apartment. However, the chances were good that I had enough trouble without starting any more. It was shortly after one o'clock when the phone rang for the first time and startled me almost as much as if it had been a bomb. I wasn't especially surprised at the voice which greeted me.

  "Sloan, this is Maxine."

  I said, "Good—I was wondering how I could get in touch with you."

  "I understand you took very good care of Spike.'

  "I did what I had to do, baby. He was in good health when Captain Kane took him out of my suite."

  "Do you think he's the only man in our organization, Sloan? Do you think you're quite safe now?"

  "No, I don't. That's why I wanted to get in touch with you. I'm wide open and I know it. I can't go to the cops without involving myself, and so—when I'm faced with something I can't fight, I join in. That's what I want to talk to you about.”

  "Good," she said and her voice dropped to a purr. "We'll forget about what happened to Spike. He was a stupid beast anyway. I'll want to see you soon, Sloan."

  "Make that Mike," I said. "If we're going to be partners we might as well be friends."

  "All right, Mike. Shall I come to your office tonight?"

  "Oh, no. Not this time. I'm coming to see you, preferably at your home, but, wherever it is, we must be alone. I do my best talking when there's only one person present"

  “I don't know about that, Mike."

  "What s the matter, don't you trust me?"

  "Yes, I suppose I must. All right. Take down this address. It's Elizabethan Towers—Maxine Hewitt. I'll expect you about eleven tonight."

  "I'm looking forward to it, Maxine.

  "So am I." She hung up rather quickly.

  I went to a movie that afternoon to kill time. Around seven I drifted into my favorite bar and grill, had a steak and plenty of trimmings. I took my time and ordered drinks after the meal was cleared away. Sheila came in around eight-fifty. I crossed the floor in her direction, didn't give a damn who saw me and kissed her soundly. She turned a pretty pink but linked her arm under mine. I took her back to the table. We sat down, I ordered more drinks, raised my eyes and stared.

  "What's wrong, darling?"

  "You have a new necklace, Sheila."

  She fingered the single slim strand and smiled. "You have competition, Mike. Jack gave me this today."

  "Your husband?"

  She nodded. "It's a strange situation, Mike. Understand, there is nothing changed between you and me. But when I think back—when I realize how Jack used to be. He'd bring me little things—not necklaces, of course. Then he was promoted, and gradually he changed. A necklace wouldn't bring back the love he threw away. Not after I'd met you."

  "That looks like a pretty good string of pearls," I said. "I'm in the business, and I ought to know. May I see it?"

  She reached up and opened the catch. "Of course, Mike. I'd like to know how good it is. Jack said it was a bargain he stumbled on. You know—I'd hate to think he gave me something cheap to get back into my affections."

  I ran the pearls through my fingers. "He wasn't a cheapskate, is that what you're trying to tell me?"

  "Yes, that's it. Remember, I'm talking about the man I married. The old Jack. If I made a mistake judging him, then I'd never trust myself again."

  "Meaning with me?"

  She looked frankly at me. "Yes, Mike. I know so little about you now. Much less than I did about Jack. And I know that you’ve been a—a crook. It doesn't matter. Not what's in the past. You've changed, too, but for the better. Not the way Jack changed. If I'd made a mistake in him as he used to be, it would hit me hard."

  I said, "These are worth about four thousand dollars baby."

  "Four thousand? Then they are real?"

  I nodded. "Pearls are tricky to judge. You have to be expert, and I learned the business long ago. Where'd he get them?"

  "I don't know. I suppose he did a favor for someone. He did say they cost him a lot of money, but he felt he ought to do something for me."

  "Very nice of him." I handed the beads back. "Do you think he knows about us and this is his way to win you back?'

  "No, Mike," she smiled. "He hasn't the faintest idea. And I'm ready now—if you are. I know exactly what I'll say in my letter to Jack."

  I took out my handkerchief, touched it to my lips and then idly patted my forehead. I didn't want her to see the beads of cold sweat I knew m
ust be there. I drank my drink too fast and wanted more. I called the waiter over and pointed to my empty glass.

  "We'll be ready to leave in a day or two," I said. "We're going to a town about two thousand miles from here. I read in a trade journal that there is an old established jewelry store for sale, and I contacted the owner. He's an old man and anxious to get out. His terms are good; I can swing it with no trouble. It's a city of a quarter of a million people. I hope that's okay."

  She laid her hand on mine. "Anywhere, darling, so long as I can begin life over again with you."

  "We'll be living in sin, baby."

  She shook her head. "Not with our kind of love. Some day we'll find out how Jack feels about this. Perhaps I can get a divorce. I don't care. I have you and nothing else matters."

  "Those are words I'll remember," I said softly. "Is there any danger of Jack coming home unexpectedly tonight?"

  “No he called me. He may not be home at all. Something happened—another killing, I suppose."

  "Yes," I said in a dry voice, "a killing—maybe."

  She put her elbow on the edge of the table, cupped her chin in her hand and looked at me. "Tell me more about this city—this jewelry store."

  We talked for about an hour and a half. She was so damned good for me. All the jitters I had went away meekly. I felt rested and at ease. I walked her back toward her apartment and took her into a doorway for a good long kiss. She liked that.

  I said "It won't be much longer, baby. I'll close up the office tomorrow or the next day, and then we’ll be ready. Which reminds me, I'd better be on my way. There's a great deal to be done."

  She put her cheek gently against mine. "I wish there was a lot for me to do. It would make the time pass faster. Kiss me once more, darling. I'll meet you again tomorrow night if things go right."

  "Don't take any chances," I implored. "Not at this stage of the game."

  She raised her face for a kiss. "I won't. I promise."

  We held the kiss as long as we could. Then I stood there and watched her walk toward her apartment house. As she turned into the lobby, she looked back and waved. I just stood there thinking that if I disappointed her now, she'd never get over it. I'd have to be very, very careful. I thought about the pearl necklace, too. More than I wanted to.

  I had to walk a couple of blocks before I picked up a cab, and I gave the driver Maxine's address. On the way, I remembered what the Elizabethan Towers were like. You didn't live there unless you had a roll—and a thick one with plenty more being added all the time. I had a few moments of doubt. What if Maxine really did run this racket by herself? With maybe a couple of backers who stayed out of sight. I'd be making a god-awful mistake. One I couldn't possibly rectify.

  Could I have misjudged that blonde for a cheap, round-heeled tart when she was really smart enough to organize and control a gang with men like Spike and Paul Stoker ready to do her killing when she snapped her fingers? The doubts kept pushing at me, worrying me. I sweated again, worse than when Shelia showed me that necklace. I could be walking straight into the jaws of a big trap, and, if I sprung it they'd find one Michael Sloan floating in the river after a couple of days. If there was enough left of me to float.

  A flunky in the uniform of Queen Elizabeth's day saluted-smartly as he opened the cab door. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to salute back, hand him a tip or just walk on by. I walked by. More men in similar uniforms manned the elevators. This was a real formal joint.

  I had to phone Maxine's apartment first and get her okay to come up. It was a warm, inviting okay. I started feeling a bit anxious as the high speed elevator shot upwards. From here on, until I rode down again, conventions were off. Sheila must be forgotten. I had a job to do and I wondered if it wouldn't be just a bit more pleasant than I'd anticipated.

  She opened the door as I took my finger off the buzzer and she was especially prepared for me. She wore a long robe of some kind. It was baby blue and set off that blonde hair perfectly. It would have done better if the blondeness had been real. The gown may have been ankle length, but it certainly wasn't neck high. She was bare skin from her chin right down to her cleavage.

  "My, my," I said with an approving leer, "no wonder you can run an outfit as you do. The boys must fall all over themselves to work for you."

  She didn't answer, just twitched her hips over to a yellow chair and sat down. I put my hat on a table, took a seat opposite her and relaxed. She reached over to a metal cigarette box, found it empty and refused one of mine. Instead she went to the table where my hat lay, pushed it aside and picked up a leather handbag. She opened this and took out a pack of Turkish cigarettes. When she got one going, she crossed her legs and gave me a long, steady stare.

  "I don't think I like you, Sloan. I know I don't like what you did to Spike."

  I said, "I gave him a break, baby. I could have killed him, but I turned him over to the cops. If he chose to make a break for it, that's his own fault."

  "Just the same . . ." she began to argue.

  I cut her short "Spike was going to murder me. I'd have been a true sap if I just stood there and let him do it. Now get this—if you want me to work for you, say so. If you don't, I might as well go home."

  She smiled then, for the first time. "We'll get nowhere arguing. I need you and you need me. Shall we talk about a little job I have in mind?"

  "I listen much better with a glass in my hand, Maxine."

  She balanced the cigarette on an ash tray. "I'd like a drink myself. Excuse me."

  She walked out of the living room, and as she disappeared I got up quietly, went over to the table and opened her handbag, a large, navy blue bag made of leather. Sewn to the inside of it was a holster containing a .32 automatic. Outside of the gun there wasn't anything in the bag to interest me, and I felt disappointed. What I was after was something leading to the guy she worked for. Somebody had set her up in this game, used her as an attractive front. I was back in my chair before she returned with a tray of ice cubes, glasses, ancient brandy and a bottle of sparkling water.

  I fixed a pair of strong drinks, carried them to a divan, sat down and waited for her to join me. She laughed and sat down, accepting the drink and imbibing half of it quickly, as if she'd wanted a drink badly. I draped my right arm over the back of the divan, a couple of inches above her shoulders.

  "I'm in the mood to listen now," I said.

  "Good. We'll get along, Mike, and make a lot of money. You won't be sorry you joined us. I understand you're pretty clever at slipping a necklace off a woman's neck."

  "I've done it without being caught," I said modestly.

  "Tomorrow night the Metropolitan season begins. You know what that means."

  I nodded. "All the worthwhile rocks in town will be there."

  "Among them, the famous emerald necklace owned by Mrs. Suzette Perreau."

  I laughed. "Every crook in town has been shooting at that for years. If you expect me to just walk up and grab it think again. The opening night is attended by all the cops or the jewelry detail, as well as private guards."

  Maxine finished her drink and sat holding the glass, rotating it slowly between both hands. I let my arm drop do a bit until my fingers touched her bare shoulder. If she knew it, she paid no attention.

  "It will be done this way, Mike. As Mrs. Perreau steps out of her car, there'll be a big crowd. There always is. In that crowd will be about ten of my boys. They'll start shoving and pushing, maybe create a mild riot. You'll be as close to Mrs. Perreau as you can get. When the crush begins, you job is to whisk that necklace off. All you have to do then is squeeze your way to the curb. The boys will try to make a path for you. There'll be a car waiting. Get in, and that's all there is to it."

  I had some of my drink and nodded slowly. "Not bad, Maxine. Not bad at all. An organization does help, at that. I think it'll work."

  "Of course it will." She gave a delicious little shiver as I passed my fingers along her shoulder and then down her back. She sudde
nly pulled herself forward. "We ought to have another drink, Mike."

  I said, "Sure," got up and went over to the table where she'd set down the tray. It was a large table. On it was a telephone and a phone number record book lying open. As I mixed the drinks, I looked down at it and nipped over a couple of pages when she couldn't see me do it. Under "M" I found a number. There was no name with it. There didn't have to be. I knew that number well. It belonged to Mona Montinez. I carried the drinks back to the divan.

  I asked, "How many carats do the Perreau emeralds run, baby?"

  "Carats? I—don't know for sure."

  "And has it a diamond clasp?"

  "I suppose so. What the hell, we'll know by this time tomorrow night, Mike. Let's stop talking shop."

  I put the glass on the floor and my arm around her as I straightened up. "Suits me. So do you, beautiful. You suit me just fine."

  She leaned back, pulled my hand down and pressed it against the first swell of her breast. I bent my head and kissed her in the middle of her throat. At close range it was like crepe instead of sweet young skin. Suddenly she dropped the empty glass she held. It rolled under the divan, but neither of us paid any attention to it. Her arms went around my neck, her lips moved toward mine.

  I kissed her hard. At first, I didn't care much whether I did or not, but with the second kiss I started to care. I could tell by the way she breathed and the way her lips moved under mine that she felt the same way. She eased herself down so that she was lying across my lap, and she pulled her legs up onto the divan. I caressed an ankle, bent to kiss her again and stroked the nylon-clad curves of her calves. She made me hold that kiss a long, long time by wrapping an arm around my neck.

  We came up for air after a while. I thought I might as well get something out of this. I cared nothing for her, except what she meant at this particular moment, and I wouldn't have hesitated to double-cross her. I said, "Baby, you're wonderful."

  "Better than other girls you've known, Mike?" She was putting herself in a class with girls. I could have laughed in her face.