Death Comes Early

by William R. Cox

  Jack considered this. “And there’s nothing on the Colyers?”

  “Not a damn thing. No strangers in town, nothing.”

  “What about this Frankie Yarbo?”

  “Yes. I been thinkin’ about him since I read his name in the letter. He’s the Syndicate.” Damon shook his head. “The Syndicate wouldn’t knock off the Colyers. Not unless they had to. And Cancelli ain’t Syndicate. He’s got connections with them, sure, or he couldn’t operate. But they wouldn’t kill for him. It ain’t sensible, believe me.”

  “Cancelli is bootlegging with Syndicate backing, right?”

  “So Alvin says.”

  “Let’s believe Alvin, just once. Then we have to stir up Cancelli in order to maybe find out who killed the Colyers.”

  “It’s a long way around. Still, like you say, if Alvin was going to blow the whistle, it could be.”

  “You’re not happy about it.”

  “The Feds could take over,” said Damon. “We should call them, right now. If they take over, we get lost in the shuffle. We’ll never see Cancelli again—until he gets out of Leavenworth or Atlanta. He can do a jolt in those cans standin’ on his head.”

  “We don’t call the Feds. I take the responsibility,” said Jack promptly.

  Damon looked at him. “You can’t trust me, you know.”

  “Who knows it better?”

  “On the other hand, we might find the guy who killed Ted.”

  “For once we agree.”

  “That letter. Alvin was drinkin’. He never would have written it if he wasn’t swacked. He could be wrong about some things.”

  “Not about Camp, nor Eloise. We know that.”

  “I guess we got to give him leeway.” Damon got up from the chair. “If I turn this in, they’ll go to the Feds. It’s got to be among us chickens.”

  Rose Marie came in. She was wearing a print dress which had not been manufactured in Hobartville. It emphasized every salient point, highlighting her thrusting breasts.

  She said, “You boys. So serious. I haven’t had any lunch. And I must look for a job.”

  Damon said eagerly, “Have lunch with me. Like to talk to you about Alvin and all.”

  Amused, Jack said, “Yes, Rose Marie, go with Damon. He can help you find work. He knows everybody in midtown.”

  She said, “I’d be delighted, Hal.”

  They went out together. At the door Damon said, “I’ll be in touch, Jack. I’ll maybe need you.”

  “Sure you will. Because you’re going it on your own, looking for a way out.”

  Damon nodded. “That’s right.”

  Jack picked the automatic pistol from the table where Rose Marie had left it. The safety was still off. He clicked it in place, started for the bedroom, then changed his mind. He went to the closet and rummaged until he found an old belt-holster. He unthreaded the leather around his waist and tried the effect. The pistol sat close and snug.

  He went out of the apartment and took another taxi back to the restaurant.

  eleven

  Max Somerwell listened carefully to what Jack had to say. Lila moved restlessly, frowning. Downstairs the after-lunch drinkers argued back and forth about nothing. Jack’s head ached.

  Max said, “Yes. I see.”

  “You see what?”

  Max blinked behind his thick eyeglasses. “Why, it all dovetails very nicely. Cancelli is operating a huge bootleg alcohol operation. I have some figures on that. The government is being cheated of about five hundred million per year in taxes. State treasuries lose another two hundred and fifty million. It affects the tax situation very severely.”

  “Max, no figures, please. Do you know anything about this which will upset Cancelli?”

  The little man folded his childlike, helpless hands. “Cancelli will be more dangerous if aroused. I fear for Lila. I’ve told her. Cancelli is determined to have Colyer Lodge to offset his losses. He does not need the property. He wants to hurt Lila in any way he can.”

  Lila said, “I don’t believe that, not entirely. Pete wouldn’t stick out his neck to get the Lodge. He wouldn’t have Alvin or Ted murdered for it.”

  Jack said dispiritedly, “There’s no evidence that Pete had anything to do with the killings. There’s no evidence at all, period. Except I could smell him out. That’s a hell of a nothing deal.”

  “I advise you to remain out of it,” said Max.

  Jack regarded him with dissatisfaction. “You advised Alvin and Ted. They got killed.”

  The myopic eyes went blank. “I am looking out for Lila’s interests at present.”

  “You damn well seem to be taking care of everyone excepting me. You’re discreet, all right, Max. Too damn discreet. If you don’t want to work for me, say so.”

  Max said stiffly, “If I have a choice, I shall continue to look after Lila.”

  “You don’t have much choice. You either work for me or you don’t.”

  Max got up, trying to straighten his oddly bent body. “I will turn your affairs over to whomever you designate.” He took Lila’s hand, bending over it, making himself graceful by sheer dint of will. “My dear, you may rely on me.”

  Lila looked past him to Jack, shook her head. She said sweetly, “Why, Max, thank you. Please keep trying. I will want that divorce, you know.”

  “Nothing will prevent me from serving you.” He went out, not looking at Jack.

  Lila said, “You shouldn’t have jumped on him.”

  “The little jerk kept things from me. If I’d known about Ted’s affairs …”

  She interrupted him. “I knew. Nothing could be done about Ted. He was too concerned about Alvin. He died because of Alvin, I am positive of it.”

  The telephone rang. A woman’s impersonal voice asked, “Mr. Jack Ware?”

  “Speaking.”

  “I understand that you are willing to accept the bodies of Alvin and George Colyer?”

  Stunned, he could not answer for seconds.

  “Mr. Ware?”

  “Yes… Who is this?”

  “This is Mrs. Mole. The autopsies have been completed and the bodies are ready for release, sir. Will you accept them?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes. I’ll make arrangements.” He hung up the phone. He sat back, sweating a little despite the air conditioning.

  “What was it?” Lila asked.

  “The corpses,” he said. His voice sounded odd. Ted and Alvin. The coroner and the medical examiner and the police are through with the clay. They have poked and cut and probed and pondered. We can have the remains.”

  “Oh!” She mirrored his shock. “Oh. We haven’t really thought about them, have we? That they are dead bodies.”

  “Like in the war,” he said. “A man is killed, you don’t think of it until after the action is over. Ted is gone. There’ll be a funeral. A big affair. All the sports people. A sermon. Flowers. The bar will do a roaring business that day.”

  “Jack,” she said softly, “I’m sorry. You loved him, I didn’t. It should have been the other way.”

  “A wake, they’ll hold a wake. It won’t be called that, but they always do it. The big spenders will be out.”

  She said, “Jack, please.”

  He called downstairs to Pat Shapiro. He said into the phone, “Pat, you’ll have to get an undertaker, arrange for things.”

  “I got a cousin,” said Pat.

  “Tell your cousin to call City Hall. Pick up Alvin and Ted and give them the treatment. Charge it to me.”

  “Cousin John’ll know what to do. I—I’m sorry, Boss.”

  “Flowers, the works,” said Jack. “All the way.”

  “A double funeral.”

  “Double header,” said Jack.

  “Okay, Boss.”

  There was a tap at the door. Jack went to it and opened it wide. Eloise and Cy Camp walked past him. They were not exactly steady on their feet. Eloise went to Lila and stood beside her, swaying.

  Camp said to Jack, “Sorry to break
in on you this way. Thought I ought to say something.”

  “All I need is some trouble from you,” said Jack.

  “No trouble.” The stout man looked at his wife. His voice was thick but he articulated clearly. “Alvin Colyer. No good. He was no good.”

  “That is not precisely news.”

  “Didn’t kill him. Wouldn’t have killed him. Eloise might have. She didn’t.”

  “You might tell that to the police.”

  “Police—I buy and sell their bosses. Money can buy them, but not everything.” He paused, looked at his wife uncertainly, went on, “Tried to tap Cancelli’s phone. Couldn’t make it. Cancelli gives me a look. As though he were laughing at me. I don’t like it.”

  Eloise said suddenly, “He looks at Lila, too. He has got it in for you, Lila, I hope you know it.”

  Lila said, “Pete has it in for everyone.”

  Camp said vaguely, “Been drinking too much. Domestic matter. Hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Yes,” said his wife clearly. “He beat me last night again. See?” She turned her head and the light struck on a bruise ill-concealed by make-up.

  “What I wanted to say.” Camp ignored her. “Found out through an agency man. Ted Colyer made his bet on Gold Bug after Alvin had been run off. I mean Ted couldn’t have been in on that, could he?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t know that.”

  “I didn’t have to,” said Jack.

  “You trust people. Very silly, trusting people.”

  “Especially your wife,” said Eloise. “You’re not cute, Cyrus. You never were. Alvin Colyer was cute and he was sweet.”

  Camp lifted a hand and started toward her. His plump face was like hard dough, his blue eyes flamed. Jack stepped in front of him, shouldering him so that he missed his direction and sat heavily on a chair.

  Camp said, “You dirty bitch. You rotten, lousy, bar-hopping whore.”

  “You see?” Eloise was bland, calm. “Not cute. Not at all sweet. Alvin was both cute and sweet. Good in bed, too. Not good any other way, but good in bed.”

  Camp tried to get up but Jack bore down, using his weight, careful not to manhandle him.

  “I’ll kill her,” groaned Camp. “So help me, I’ll finish her.”

  “A divorce is less trouble to all concerned,” said Jack. Dealing with drunks was an old story, but this was a special case, fraught with danger.

  “I’ll never divorce her. I’ll break her once and for all.”

  “You know, you nearly made it,” Eloise said brightly. She was in that stage of intoxication when for a brief time everything is superbly clear. “The whips and those other tricks, I nearly began to like them. It was because I drink too much. I always did. Then Alvin was murdered and I sobered up for a day. I wondered if you did it. I knew you would have liked to. Then I knew you didn’t have that kind of nerve.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that!”

  “That’s what I thought. But I can, you see. You’re a mixed-up little sadist, that’s what you are.”

  Jack said, “Take it easy, will you? Both of you.”

  Lila shook her head at him. She was watching Camp. The millionaire was growing smaller in the chair. It was probably the calmness of Eloise which had penetrated his drunkenness. He whimpered, “No. You can’t do this to me. It’s—it’s indecent.”

  “I can do more than this,” said Eloise.

  “No! Stop!”

  “Pete Cancelli had Alvin killed, one way or another. If you had any courage, you’d go after Cancelli. Beat on him. You’re as rich as he is. He had Ted Colyer killed, too.”

  “You can’t prove that, can you?” asked Jack.

  “I don’t have to. You know it. The police know it. Even dear Cyrus knows it.”

  “I’m drunk,” said Camp, putting his chubby hands to his face. “I never get drunk. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “You’re losing your stomach for anything but the little whips,” said his wife.

  Lila whispered, “I think you’ve proved your point, Eloise. I think you’re free, if you want.”

  Camp said to Jack, “I should never drink. Have you got something I can take?”

  “No, we don’t sober them up. We don’t make them buy it and we expect them to carry it out of here.”

  Eloise said, “Money, money. Horses, horses. He poses for a man with everything.”

  Lila touched her arm. “Maybe you’d better lie down awhile. Jack has a bed in there.”

  “Not yet,” said she. “I want to tell him some more. About Alvin.”

  Camp shook himself like a dog coming out of water. “Alvin was no damned good. I don’t care what she says. Ted was fine, but Alvin was no good.”

  “Better than you if he had your money,” said the inexorable voice. “Better than you when he did have money.”

  Jack stepped between them, unable to stand more. He said to Camp, “Look, I’ve a favor to ask. I’d like a list of your real estate holdings in New York.”

  “Real estate?”

  “The coal companies in particular.”

  “Coal business? No good. All fuel oil, now. Family started in coal, wood, all that. Got out, silos rented to people.”

  “Yes, I would like to know the locations and the lessees.”

  Eloise started to say something, but Lila lifted her and led her to the bedroom. Camp watched them apathetically, saying, “Call Olson… Wait, I’ll do it.”

  He put the call through, gave instructions. He sat back in the chair as Jack made a list of the locations. He seemed thoroughly confused. The list was long and Jack was very careful to get it right.

  Downstairs everything ran as usual, Jack noted through the window. He moved behind his desk. Camp looked miserable, but it was impossible to feel anything for him but distaste.

  The two men sat, ill at ease.

  Camp mumbled, “I’m sorry. Dirty linen, all that.”

  “It wasn’t particularly nice.”

  “She’ll be sorry, too.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Camp asked, “You think I’ve lost control? Maybe I have, at that.”

  “I think you could face it.”

  Camp got up and went to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink.

  Jack said, “That won’t help, not now.”

  “I’ll take my wife and go home.” He started for the closed door of the bedroom.

  Jack intercepted him, taking his elbow, steering him. “Sorry, but we’re all out of whips.”

  “You can’t stop a man from seeing his wife.”

  “Wouldn’t try,” said Jack. He tapped on the door. Lila opened it on a crack.

  “She’s asleep.”

  Jack said, “Let him look at her.”

  Camp didn’t move. His eyes had turned hard gray and were slitted in his round face. “You’re in league with her. You and that other bitch just like her.”

  Jack said, “Now you are asking for it.”

  “Bitches. Both of them.”

  “Then leave them alone.” He couldn’t take the first punch, he did not want to take a punch.

  “I want my wife.”

  “Something tells me you’re not going to get her.”

  Camp made a quick move. Jack shoved him so that he caromed off the exit door, then slapped him hard across the chops. Camp drew back a fist, then dropped it.

  “Want to try it?”

  “I can’t whip you.”

  “You ought to learn something else. When you whip a bitch, you’ve got to keep her tied up.”

  “I can wreck you. All of you.”

  “Maybe. The mood I’m in right now, I’ll give you reason. Alvin was right, you and Pete Cancelli are alike. You hire your muscle.”

  “I’ll close this place. I’ll make a public scandal out of Eloise.”

  “You can try that, too. I don’t care.”

  “I want my wife.” It was a scream now, and he was over the edge. “Nobody can stop me from having my wif
e!”

  Jack hit him as he charged. The flesh around the belly was soft. Camp let out a small, weird cry. He put both hands to his belly. He sat down on a chair.

  Jack said, “I’ll give you time to recover your feet. Then I am going to kick your ass down the stairs for everyone to watch. Then I am going to run you out in the street for Third Avenue to see.”

  Camp whimpered. After a moment he got up. He did not look right or left. He staggered to the door, went weakly through it and down the stairs. Jack watched from the window as he made his way out to the street.

  He had built himself a powerful enemy. He turned back into the office and Lila held a finger to her lips.

  “I gave her a sleeping pill.”

  “One broad in the apartment, one in here. It leaves me no place to go.”

  “You can always rent a room.”

  “I think Eloise will be better off here, for now. He’ll beat hell out of her if she goes home.”

  “What are your plans, if any?” she asked.

  “I need Izzy. It may take days to drive to all these locations. Then, when I find a big alky still, I have to decide how to stir up Cancelli.”

  “Couldn’t you just—you know—bluff him?”

  “He might call me. I want Federal agents not far behind me. Cancelli is tough.”

  She said, “I’m going with you.”

  “All right. You’re better company than Izzy.” He called the cab company and they gave him Izzy’s home phone uptown. He called Izzy.

  “Camp Coal Company? I know half a dozen of them,” Izzy said when he understood the plan. “There’s one up here. Look, maybe you could get a hack uptown, I could eat, already? It wouldn’t be too much?”

  “We can do that.” He wrote down the address. He patted the automatic nestling at his belt. He said to Lila, “Maybe I won’t be in the restaurant business much longer. But this is getting to be important above it and everything else. Let’s go, baby.”

  twelve

  The Greystone Club bar was the only section of the establishment which opened at noon. There were a few tables and booths which lined two walls, not enough to make serving the food profitable. However, there was a large booze trade and Porter Hull, a man dedicated to his job, did not complain.