1944 - Just the Way It Is

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1944 - Just the Way It Is Page 16

by James Hadley Chase


  ‘Hey!’ O’Malley said, his red face darkening. ‘What about that licence number you got me to turn up.’

  ‘Forget it,’ Duke returned, his eyes busy round the room. They had taken Bellman’s body and the place looked as if they’d given it a thorough combing. ‘She was a nice-looking kid and I thought after all I’ve done for you, you might just as well do

  something for me.’ He sat on the edge of the desk. ‘I hear you think Daybreak looks good.’

  O’Malley’s eyes popped. ‘Well, doesn’t it?’ he asked, anxiously.

  ‘You’d better give up picking winners, you just haven’t got the feeling for them. Cigars broke that horse’s wind years ago. Get on to Hottentot. You can’t go wrong.’

  O’Malley closed his eyes. ‘Gee!’ he said. That was close. I nearly put my week’s rent on Daybreak.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you ask next time? You know I don’t mind giving you boys a break. Besides, it’s a good thing to keep in with the cops, ain’t it?’

  O’Malley looked at him. ‘Can I go the limit on this Hottentot?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure, I’ll put the bet on myself. What do you want? A grand?’

  O’Malley blinked. ‘I ain’t got a grand,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, I’ll put you on for a grand.’

  There was a short pause and then O’Malley looked away. ‘It’ll be tough if it loses,’ he muttered, loud enough for Duke to hear.

  Duke watched him closely. ‘Tough for me,’ he said. ‘But it’ll win all right.’

  O’Malley brightened. ‘You come in here pretty often, don’t you, Mr. Duke?’ he said, after another pause.

  ‘In here? You mean in this actual room?’

  ‘Yeah. There were some fresh fingerprints of your on the desk. I know that little burn you’ve got on your right forefinger.’

  Duke didn’t say anything.

  ‘Doc says Bellman knocked himself off, so I didn’t think I’d complicate the case with your prints. I got rid of them.’

  Duke drew in a little breath. ‘I suppose Hallahan knows about them?’ he asked, casually.

  O’Malley shook his head. ‘I don’t tell Hallahan more than he needs to know,’ he said. ‘Just thought I might save you some trouble.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Duke remembered the many tips he had given O’Malley in the past and was glad that he had done so. ‘Well, I looked in to see Kells,’ he went on. ‘Is he around?’

  O’Malley shook his head. ‘He’s over at the Western Turkish Baths,’ he said. ‘He’s spending the night there.’

  ‘I wanted to see him. I’d better get over there,’ Duke said. He looked round the room. ‘I suppose this joint’ll be up for sale?’

  O’Malley shrugged. ‘Not my idea of an investment,’ he returned. ‘I like a joint where you can spit on the floor.’

  ‘Oh, you can spit here if you like. They only charge you more for it.’ Duke went over to the door. ‘So long, pal. I’ll fix that bet for you. You’ll have quite a time spending your winnings.’ He nodded and went out.

  At the foot of the stairs, Fleming and Stone were waiting for him. ‘How about this Daybreak?’ they asked, anxiously.

  ‘Hottentot,’ Duke returned, feeling that he might as well keep in with the whole force while he was about it. ‘Get your shirts on him, boys, it’s a cinch.’

  He left the club and drove over to the Western Turkish Baths.

  The Negro attendant’s face lit up when he saw him. ‘Ain’t seen you for a long time, Mr. Duke, boss,’ he said.

  ‘I haven’t had time to get drunk recently,’ Duke said, regretfully. ‘Seen Mr. Kells?’

  ‘Why sure, boss, he’s in the hot room now.’

  ‘That’s fine. I’ll join him How’s trade . . . quiet?’

  ‘It’s slow tonight. You and Mr. Kells are the only two I’ve seen in the last couple of hours.’

  ‘I’ll probably stay the rest of the night,’ Duke said. ‘It’s late enough now. That okay?’

  ‘You suit yourself, Mr. Duke, boss. Can I order you breakfast?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll want it early. Let me have a tenderloin steak, fried eggs and a coffee, will you? I’ve got a lot of things to do tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Okay, boss, I’ll fix it,’ the Negro said, handing out towels and a bathrobe. ‘You know your way?’

  Duke nodded and went into the changing room. While he was undressing he thought about Clare. Where was she? She could, of course, be tucked up in her bed oblivious of his anxiety. She might be at the Clarion office pounding out the story of Bellman’s sensational suicide. But he doubted it. She might be scared and have left town or she might be kidnapped. These were the most likely ideas, he thought. If she had left town there was nothing to do except wait until the news got round that Bellman had committed suicide. If she’d been kidnapped, there was nothing to be done about it until he could determine the most likely people who could have done it. If she was kidnapped, it meant that she had seen Bellman’s killer. There were ugly possibilities that she might, herself, be dead. Duke didn’t like to think about that.

  He wrapped a towel round his middle, lit a cigar and wandered down the passage into the hot room He found Kells lolling back in a canvas deck chair, a towel across his knees. He was asleep.

  Duke felt tired too, but he had to talk to Kells. He drew up another deck chair and sat down close beside Kells.

  ‘Hey!’ he shouted in Kells’ ear, ‘the place is on fire!’

  Kells opened his eyes and looked at him sleepily. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said in disgust, and closed his eyes again.

  Duke admired his nerve. ‘I want to talk to you,’ he said. ‘Wake up. This is important.’

  Kells sighed and opened his eyes again. ‘Got a cigar for me?’ he asked, hopefully.

  ‘What do you think I am, a kangaroo?’ Duke slapped his naked chest. ‘Still, I’ll get you one.’ He walked over and rang the bell.

  ‘Let’s have some Scotch too,’ Kells said, yawning. ‘You heard about Bellman?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Duke said, coming back to his chair. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Bellman.’

  ‘I guessed you did,’ Kells grinned mirthlessly.

  The Negro attendant came in and Duke told him where to find his cigar case. ‘Bring us a bottle of Scotch and a couple of Whiterock and ice. It’s hot in here.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be,’ Kells said, as the Negro went out.

  ‘I was forgetting,’ Duke frowned down at the glowing tip of his cigar. ‘Well, who killed Bellman?’

  ‘It was suicide,’ Kells said. ‘Even the croaker said so.’

  ‘I know what they said, but between you and me . . . who killed him?’

  ‘Maybe it was you and the chicken woman.’

  ‘Chicken woman?’

  ‘Yeah, the one that came out of an egg.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Well, it wasn’t. I just found him. You see, I’m being honest with you. I found her in the room and Bellman lying on the floor.’

  ‘Then she killed him,’ Kells said. He wasn’t taking much interest in the conversation.

  The Negro came back with the drinks and cigar. Kells lit the cigar and shut his eyes. ‘Make the whisky a strong one.’

  When the Negro had gone away, leaving the drinks close by Duke’s chair, he tried again. ‘How are you fixed, Lew?’

  Kells drank half the whisky before replying, ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I can look after myself. Korris will buy the club, I suppose.’

  Duke looked surprised. ‘Korris? I shouldn’t have thought he’d have wanted Chez Paree. What makes you think that?’

  ‘I don’t know that he’ll buy it,’ Kells said. ‘I just say that he might.’

  ‘Bellman bought Pinder’s End, didn’t he?’ Duke asked, casually.

  Kells shot him a hard look, hesitated and then nodded.

  ‘How far are you in this?’ Duke asked.

  ‘Far enough,’ Kells returned, looking sly.

  ‘Well, let me put my cards on the table if
you’re going to act coy,’ Duke said, finishing his whisky and mixing himself another. ‘You ain’t the only one interested in Pinder’s End.’

  ‘I didn’t say I was interested,’ Kells said, guardedly. ‘And who else is there, anyway?’

  ‘There’s me,’ Duke returned, stretching out his long, muscular legs. ‘Then there’s Spade.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kells cleared his throat. ‘Spade.’

  ‘What do you know about that guy?’ Duke asked, casually.

  ‘He worries me,’ Kells admitted. ‘I’ve been trying to find out who he is and where he fits in. No one seems to have ever seen him except Korris.’

  ‘I know all that,’ Duke said, shortly. ‘Now look, Lew, what do you know about Pinder’s End? If you want to play, we’ll pool. If you want to do this on your own, okay, we’ll forget it.’

  Kells groped round for his glass. ‘You ain’t finished all that whisky?’ he asked.

  Duke handed it over. He knew Kells was trying to make up his mind. He wasn’t going to hurry him.

  ‘You know Schultz is in this too?’ he said, abruptly.

  Kells slopped the whisky, steadied his hand and went on pouring. ‘Schultz?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Schultz ain’t much,’ Kells said, as if trying to convince himself. ‘I wouldn’t worry about him.’

  ‘Schultz works for Spade,’ Duke announced, closing his eyes and giving way to the insidious heat that soaked into his tired muscles.

  ‘I see. So if you and me. . .’

  ‘That’s the idea. You and me against Schultz and Spade. On our side we’ve got Casy . . . do you know Casy?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Casy owns the big house at Pinder’s End. He’s got three Tommy guns and a lot of other lethal stuff up there with orders from me to keep everyone out. . . except me.’

  Kells twisted in his chair and gaped at Duke. ‘That’s smart!’ he said. ‘So you’ve got the place sewn up?’

  ‘Yes. But let me go on. I was talking about our side,’ Duke said, his eyes still closed. ‘We’ve got Pete Cullen, we’ve got the whole of the staff of the Clarion and we might have the chicken woman and her boyfriend Joe. They’re ready to double-cross

  Schultz. On the other side there is Korris, Schultz and, of course, Spade. I like the look of my side, Lew.’

  Kells fidgeted with his bare feet. ‘Yeah, it looks all right.’

  ‘It’s the carve-up that’s worrying you.’ Duke opened one eye and regarded him. ‘Ain’t there enough in it for us all?’

  Kells hesitated. ‘I reckon it’s worth five hundred grand,’ he said, at last.

  Duke pursed his lips. ‘Quite a nice slice,’ he said, and fell silent.

  ‘That’s what Bellman said,’ Kells went on hastily. ‘Maybe he was lying. You remember Frank Noakes?’

  Duke said, ‘Frank Noakes? The bank bandit?’

  Kells nodded. ‘That’s the fella. Just before the Feds knocked him off he passed through Fairview. This was some twelve years ago. He stayed at Pinder’s End in Casy’s house. Then he was smoked out and went on the run again. Bellman says he left the whole of his loot in that house. The cops reckoned that it was worth five hundred grand.’

  Duke thought for a few minutes. ‘So that’s the story, is it?’ he said. ‘That’s the mystery of Pinder’s End. Almost like the movies, ain’t it?’ He tossed the butt of his cigar neatly into a spittoon across the room. ‘How did Bellman hear about this?’

  ‘He got it from a guy who worked with Noakes. Deafy something or other, I forget his name. Deafy wanted Bellman to help him get the stuff. He had a map just where it was planted, but he was scared to go up to Pinder’s End on his own. He was coked to the ears and hadn’t the nerve even to cross a road. Bellman got rid of him.’ Kells shook his head. ‘I didn’t like that part of it. There’d’ve been enough for Deafy. Anyway, Bellman didn’t want to be bothered with him, so he got rid of him.’

  Duke grunted. ‘Nice guy,’ he said, reflectively. ‘And then he got Timson to buy the place?’

  ‘That’s right. Whoever killed Timson stole the title deeds. That put Bellman in a jam. Without the title deeds he couldn’t take Pinder’s End over. He didn’t like to make too much fuss in case Spade got wise. Well, Spade, was wise all the time.’

  ‘Do you think Spade killed Timson?’

  ‘He might have done or one of his boys.’

  ‘That means that Spade’s got the title deeds?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter. He can’t get in that place without coming into the open and then we can ask him how he got hold of the deeds. So that’s tied him up,’ Duke said. ‘If he tries to bust into Pinder’s End, he’ll get an almighty reception.’

  ‘All we’ve got to do now,’ Kells said, scratching the sole of his foot, ‘is to go out to Pinder’s End tomorrow and take the joint to pieces. When we’ve found the dough, we can laugh at Spade.’

  ‘You like the set up?’ Duke said.

  ‘It’s a cinch,’ Kells returned. ‘You can count me in.’

  ‘You say there’s a plan where the stuff’s hidden. Who’s got that, do you think?’

  ‘We don’t have to bother with that,’ Kells returned. ‘Who’s got it? The guy who knocked off Bellman, I should think.’

  ‘Maybe the dough isn’t in Casy’s house. It might be in the garden or in one of the other bungalows.’

  ‘So what? We’ve got a lot of time, haven’t we? If we don’t find it in Casy’s well look someplace else. I don’t mind working for five hundred grand.’

  ‘Okay.’ Duke got up, tucked the end of his towel in at his waist and padded across the room to where a telephone stood on a table.

  He dialled Clare’s number and sat listening to the crackling on the line. After a while the operator told him there was no reply.

  He looked at the clock on the wall. It was a little after two o’clock.

  Kells watched him sleepily. ‘Don’t you ever rest?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong now?’

  ‘Go to sleep,’ Duke said, shortly. ‘You’ve got some hard work to do tomorrow.’

  Kells grunted and made himself comfortable. He seemed to fall asleep the moment he closed his eyes.

  Duke rang Peter’s apartment. There was no answer, and rather savagely, he slammed down the receiver.

  It was no good going on like this, he decided. He’d have to leave things until the next day. There was a lot of things to do. The most important was to find Clare.

  The heat in the room oppressed him and he slid into his dressing gown and walked into the next room. It was cooler in there.

  Before going to sleep he had a cold shower. It didn’t help the feeling of acute depression that settled over him, but it cleared his head and lying on the narrow, comfortable bunk, he thought about Pinder’s End.

  He saw things that he hadn’t seen before. The initials carved on the mantelpiece for instance, F.N. He understood why the unknown someone had been hiding upstairs. Five hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money. He wondered vaguely what was going to happen to the money when they found it. Two guys had got themselves killed through it already. It wouldn’t surprise him if several more went the same way before this business was over. Just before he fell asleep, he hoped sincerely that he wouldn’t be one of them.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Tod Korris opened his eyes and sat up in his bed with a jerk.

  The telephone was ringing insistently at his elbow and as he reached out. he glanced at his watch. It was half past three a.m.

  ‘What is it?’ he snarled into the receiver.

  ‘Korris?’ He recognized the harsh voice at the other end of the line and his brain instantly became awake.

  ‘Yes, Mr. Spade,’ he said.

  ‘Did you see Hallahan?’

  ‘That’s all fixed,’ Korris said, inwardly cursing Spade for ringing at this time in the morning. ‘I gave him the money and he’s playing.’

  ‘Good.’ Spade was silen
t for a minute and Korris, thinking the connection had been cut, said, ‘Hello? You still there, Mr. Spade?’

  ‘Leave my name, out of it,’ Spade said, sharply. ‘We can’t fool around any longer, Korris. We’ve got to get moving.’

  ‘First thing tomorrow,’ Korris said, sinking back into the pillows and propping the telephone receiver against his ear.

  ‘I’ve got a job to do,’ Spade said, softly. ‘That’s why I’m ringing you now. Listen, get the mob together. We’re going out to take Casy’s house over. About a half a dozen men’ll do. Give ‘em guns and some ammunition. Casy’s got a gun from Duke. There may be a little trouble, but I don’t think so. I want you over there first thing tomorrow. When you’ve fixed Casy and the other guys, go through the house brick by brick. Do you understand?’

  Korris nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’ll do that. Will you be there?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe I’ll come out. I’ll see.’

  ‘Have you seen Schultz?’ Korris asked, remembering.

  Spade drew in a little hiss of breath. ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ Spade said. ‘He’s double-crossing us. I’m going to have a little talk with him now.’

  Korris grinned. ‘Do you want me to come along?’

  ‘I can manage Schultz,’ Spade returned. He sounded as if he meant it. ‘Have you seen anything of his girl and the boy?’

  ‘Not today.’

  ‘They’ve disappeared. Looks as if Schultz’s ready to clear out fast. He’s got the map, of course.’

  ‘Must have. I wish I’d fixed Bellman now, instead of sending him. I always thought we could trust Schultz.’

  ‘You can’t trust anyone,’ Spade returned. ‘I’ll give you a ring if I want you. You know what you’ve got to do, get to Casy’s as soon as you’ve rounded up the mob.’

  ‘Okay,’ Korris said, and the connection went dead.

  Korris put the receiver on its cradle and shut his eyes.

  So Spade was after Schultz. In a way, Korris wished he could be there. Schultz would be rather amusing to kill. He played with the idea of ringing Schultz and warning him, just to make his last hours more complicated. He knew that Schultz was caught He was like a monkey with his paw in a bottle. He would never leave Fairview without Frank Noakes’s nest egg.

 

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