Rockabye County 4

by J. T. Edson

  In her restless frame of mind, tired and with her body aching from the beating taken the previous night, Alice clean forgot the speech Brad made on leaving Marla’s presence.

  At nine o’clock Alice rose and prepared to go out. She drove downtown to a Turkish bathhouse where she went through the full treatment, finally laying naked on a bench while a plump, red haired, jovial masseuse worked the throb and ache out of her tormented bones.

  ‘They sure worked you over good, Alice,’ said the masseuse cheerily as her strong fingers dug skillfully into the girl’s flesh.

  ‘That’s some shiner you have.’

  ‘You should see the other guy,’ Alice replied, feeling better already although no less emotionally disturbed. ‘What do you know about Inez Herrero and Kathie O’Neil, Anna?’

  The question did not appear to surprise the masseuse, although she glanced around the deserted massage room before answering.

  ‘Hookers. Handle a good class of trade. All upper-middle-class and above customers. Tough cookies. Did they—?’

  ‘Sure, only I want to know why they jumped me. Are they friends?’

  Not only did Alice visit the baths for a refresher, but also to see the masseuse who was an informer with almost encyclopedic knowledge of the female side of the Gusher City underworld.

  ‘Not buddy-buddy share-the-same-apartment friends,’ the masseuse answered. ‘They both deal with the same type of trade, but don’t cut in on each other’s territory. I wouldn’t say they were close friends.’

  ‘How much do you know about their backgrounds?’

  ‘You mean when they’re not on the streets?’

  ‘Sure, home life; like that.’

  Anna thought for a moment before replying, ‘Kathie supports her old man. He was a safe-popper, a good one, until he goofed on a blow job and killed two of his mob. When he came out of the Walls his nerve had gone. He’s an old rum-head now and Kathie works hard to keep him.’

  ‘And Inez?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Off the streets she’s clean. Lives in the Mexican section of Greevers. Has a nice little place. Just her, her mother—and daughter.’

  ‘Daughter?’ Alice repeated, knowing from the slight pause that there must be more to the words than a mere list of house occupants.

  ‘Kid’s maybe six now, doesn’t know what her mother works at at nights and Inez would kill anybody who told her. She lives for that kid, takes her to church on Sundays, gives her everything money can buy. I’ve seen Inez uptown with the kid at a rodeo and nearly didn’t recognize her. No make-up, hair took back in a bun, glasses, a dress that hid her shape; which takes some doing. None of her regular customers would have known her if they passed her in good light. Yes sir, Inez’s a real good mother to that kid. Does that help you any?’

  ‘It may. Get me a telephone please, Anna, I want to make some calls.’

  Dialing the Vice and Gambling Detail’s number, Alice reached one of her friends and asked for the two hookers’ home addresses. By the time she had received the full massage and dressed, the V. and G. detective called back and gave her the information she required. Alice paid for her course of treatment and the information received, then, feeling much refreshed, left the bathhouse.

  First she drove to Kathie O’Neil’s home address, an apartment building in the Evans Park section of the Bad-Bit. The area was slightly better quality than most of the Bad-Bit and its occupants not such confirmed cop-haters as most of the citizens who lived in the slum district. However, Alice expected a certain amount of objection to answering her questions.

  Much to her surprise, the building’s superintendent talked freely, expressing wonder at the events of the morning. A well-dressed man visited Seamus O’Neil earlier and talked with the old man. Before leaving, the visitor came to the super’s office and paid one year’s rent in advance for the O’Neil apartment. As soon as the visitor left, O’Neil came downstairs in a hurry, showing great excitement, and headed for the bar across the street.

  Parrying the superintendent’s questions as to the reason for her visit, Alice left the building and crossed the street to the bar. Looking in through the window, she saw an old man seated on the counter, whiskey bottle in hand, entertaining a bunch of his cronies to drinks and cigars.

  ‘And only last night he wanted to borrow a dollar off me for beer,’ said the super’s voice at Alice’s elbow. ‘Say, I just thought after you left. That feller who come here, he asked me how to get to Salvador Street.’

  Alice swung to look at the man, knowing that Inez Herrero lived on Salvador Street. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and looked for an official telephone.

  Finding what she sought, Alice put in a call to the local station house and then drove her Mustang through the streets. On reaching her destination, she found a D car waiting some distance below the Herrero house. However, a Chevrolet coupe stood before the building and even as Alice drove up, she saw a man enter it.

  ‘Tail him,’ she said to the male detective, showing her ID wallet. ‘Get his number if nothing else.’

  ‘Can do,’ the man replied.

  Jumping out, the female detective watched the D car cruise away, then she turned to Alice.

  ‘What now?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ll go and see Mrs. Herrero.’

  Salvador Street was one of the better sections of Greevers and the Herrero house a small, neat, well-kept building which showed loving care. A short, plump Mexican woman opened the door to Alice’s ring and studied the callers. Although both wore civilian clothes and the local detective was of Mexican birth, Mrs. Herrero made them immediately as peace officers.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked worriedly, glancing at the telltale handbags. ‘You’re the police.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs. Herrero,’ agreed Alice, rather than become involved in a discussion about the difference between police and sheriff’s office personnel.

  ‘Then the man lied.’

  ‘About what, Mrs. Herrero?’ Alice said.

  ‘About the mon—’ the woman began, then stopped and looked at Alice’s discolored eye. ‘Are you the one who arrested Inez?’

  Alice did not have a chance to reply. A pretty little girl, her hair in braids and wearing a clean dress, appeared at the door, wriggling by her grandmother and smiling up at the two peace officers.

  ‘Oh!’ she said, sounding disappointed. ‘I thought it was Mommy. Are you her friends? Will you be going on vacation with her? Will she be coming home to kiss me goodbye before she leaves?’

  For once in her life Alice could not think of a thing to say. Words just would not come as she looked down at the pretty little child whose mother was a prostitute and probably never knew her father’s identity. Clearly the child loved her mother, but would be unlikely to see Inez again for at least five years.

  Alice felt anger welling up inside her. Deep and bitter hatred formed against the woman who hired Inez Herrero, deserted her when the going grew tough and bought her silence by offering to support her daughter while she was in prison.

  It might be argued that the child would fare better without such a mother. But, for all her faults, Inez Herrero loved that child and cared enough for her well-being to accept a long term in the Goree Unit of the Texas Prison System as long as money would be sent to her daughter.

  'Go back into the house, Maria,’ Mrs. Herrero said gently. ‘Say goodbye to the ladies.’

  ‘Goodbye,’ the girl complied. ‘If you see Mommy and she can’t come, home before she leaves on vacation, tell her my love and ask her to write to me as soon as she can.’

  Alice gulped, trying to clear something which seemed to block her throat. No words came as the little girl turned and walked back into the house. Then Alice let out a long sigh.

  ‘Why did Inez do it?’ Mrs. Herrero asked. ‘She had a good place, brought home money. Why did she attack you?’

  ‘How did you know about that?’ Alice inquired.

  ‘I made the man tell me, before I signed the letter he brough
t and took his check. He said she and another girl went mugging and were caught when they picked on a detective. Only Inez wasn’t a mugger. Oh, I know how she made her money, but she never stole a dime in her life.’

  ‘Was she in any financial difficulties, Mrs. Herrero?’ asked the detective.

  ‘Things aren’t easy, keeping this house going and her place in Central, but she didn’t need money bad enough to go mugging to get it.’

  ‘Who was the man?’ Alice put in.

  ‘He works for some bonding agency downtown,’ answered Mrs. Herrero. ‘But why did my little Inez go wrong?’

  ‘We don’t know, Mrs. Herrero,’ Alice answered. ‘How much money did he give you?’

  ‘A thousand dollars and he said he would send me a check for another thousand for each year Inez drew in her sentence.’

  ‘And that could run into money,’ remarked the detective as they left the Herrero place. ‘She’ll pull five at least.’

  ‘At least,’ Alice agreed bitterly.

  ‘You’re not sorry for her, are you?’ asked the detective, glancing pointedly at Alice’s bruised face.

  ‘Not for her, for the kid,’ Alice snapped.

  ‘Did you learn what you wanted?’

  A long, shuddering sigh left Alice’s lips. ‘I learned enough.’

  After driving the detective back to her station house, Alice returned to the Chadwick Building. In her apartment she changed from her smart two-piece to a dark blue blouse and a pair of stretch pants. For the first time since joining the G.C.P.D., Alice intended to break the rules, go against everything she had been taught and forget that she was a peace officer. With that thought in mind, she left her handbag on the chair. If she must break the rules, then she did not intend to take along anything to officially identify her with the county’s law-enforcement authorities.

  In cold, deadly anger she drove across town, into Upton Heights and brought her car to a halt before the Blumfeld mansion. Climbing out, she looked around her. There was no sign of either of the cars and Rosenthal did not appear to be around. Just as Alice walked towards the main doors, she caught a movement to her right. Turning, she saw Marla step out of a french window. The blonde wore a figure-hugging white sharkskin swimsuit of daring cut, carried a towel in one hand and a pair of dark glasses in the other.

  Even as Alice saw Marla, the blonde looked her way. Quickly Marla whipped up the glasses, slipping them on. Then she stood arrogantly watching Alice walk towards her. Although aware of it, Alice ignored the sensual physical attraction of Marla’s magnificent body, her attention being on the other’s left hand. The big diamond cluster ring had gone. Lifting her eyes to Marla’s face, Alice saw that make-up could not hide the swollen and discolored condition of the blonde’s right eye.

  ‘Hello, Marla, or do I have to call you Mrs. Blumfeld?’

  Throwing a startled glance first at Alice then towards the upstairs windows, Marla let the towel fall to the ground, then backed into the house. Alice followed and found herself in the sitting-room where she met Marla the previous day. It looked much the same, except that the whiskey decanter and glasses had gone and the ashtray was wiped clean. Not until they stood in the center of the room did Marla halt or offer to speak.

  ‘What do you want here?’ she asked.

  ‘Where’d you get the mouse?’ Alice replied.

  ‘Mouse?’ Marla repeated, raising a hand to touch her right eye. The gold wedding band glowed coldly and the diamond ring had left a faint white line on the tanned skin. ‘I walked into a door.’

  ‘At the Chadwick Building?’

  ‘Slumming for kicks went out years ago in my set, darling,’ Marla purred. ‘The in thing now is—’

  ‘Where’d you get it, Marla?’ Alice snapped.

  ‘Why, right here, at home. Last night at around half past eleven. I’m sure Weems will bear me out on that.’

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ Alice agreed. ‘By the way, where’s your chauffeur?’

  Cold anger, suspicion and a hint of fear warred on Marla’s face and she paused for a time before answering, ‘He’s gone downtown on a job.’

  ‘When will he be back?’

  ‘Oh, how should I know? Ask Weems.’

  ‘Weems seems to know everything that happens around here,’ Alice commented. ‘Does he know where you lost your diamond ring?’

  Marla dropped her eyes to the left hand, then jerked them back to face Alice once more. ‘I don’t wear it when I’m going swimming.’

  ‘What would that ring fetch?’ Alice asked. ‘Five grand, seventy-five hundred?’

  ‘It’s worth twenty thousand,’ Marla answered. ‘Which’s why I don’t wear—’

  ‘But that would be on the open market, wouldn’t it,’ Alice interrupted. ‘Not as a quick sale and through the channels needed to get rid of it.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘Your husband’s probably generous with your allowance, but laying hands on enough to grease Caldicott and the two hookers would take some finding.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Marla said, ‘but I think I’d better call my husband.’

  ‘Go right ahead,’ Alice replied, waving a hand towards the telephone.

  Despite Alice's invitation, Marla made no move to call her husband. Cold fury twisted her beautiful face and her right hand quivered as she raised it to point to the door.

  ‘Get out of here, Alice Fayde!’ she ordered.

  ‘Not until I’m ready,’ Alice answered. ‘Last night you and two hookers were waiting for me at the Chadwick Building. That's where you got that shiner. I gave it to you before you turned and ran out on the girls you brought along to help you do your dirty work.’

  ‘And can you prove that?’ asked Marla, a hint of mocking triumph in her voice and a sneer flickering on her lips.

  ‘We have the girls at Headquarters.’

  Alice’s bluff failed as much as did Marla’s when the blonde threatened to call her husband.

  ‘Then you can prove what you’re saying, can’t you?’

  ‘You know I can’t,’ Alice admitted. ‘Caldicott picked girls who needed money and under certain conditions would be willing to keep quiet if things went wrong. They went wrong and we caught Inez and Kathie. Only he arrived at the office, called out by you, and settled the details with the girls. They keep quiet and you support their dependants while they’re in the Goree Unit.’

  ‘Which of course you can prove,’ purred Marla.

  ‘You know I can’t. Caldicott covered his tracks too well and your house staff will tell any lie you want telling.’

  ‘Then stop wasting my time and get out of here, cop!’

  Alice’s scorn showed plain as she looked Marla up and down. ‘You haven’t changed, Marla. You’re still the same cheap, vicious little tramp I knew. The cheap little slut with the big ideas. A dirty, nasty little hooker who married rich and cheated on her husband—’

  Which was when Marla hit her.

  Fifteen

  Knotting her right hand into a fist, Marla swung it around in a full-blooded drive that ended at the side of Alice's cheek. Although Alice knew her words would goad Marla into an attack, she had not expected it to come with such speed or power. The blow snapped Alice’s head to one side and staggered her backwards a few paces. Even as she caught her balance, Alice saw Marla leaping at her with greedy fingers reaching for hair.

  With her training and physical fitness, Alice ought to have been able to take Marla with ease. Yet the moment Marla’s fingers dug into red hair and tore at it, every lesson Alice received in self-defense tactics left her. Up drove her hands to sink into Marla’s hair, digging deep and pulling.

  Clinging to each other’s hair, tearing and shaking at it, the girls staggered up and down the room. Their feet hacked at each other’s shins, gasps of pain and squeals of fury left their lips. Suddenly Marla released her hold, placed her hands against Alice’s body and shoved hard. Alice lost her hold and went sprawling into
the wall. Bouncing forward, she landed a slap that left finger marks on Marla’s cheek and whipped across a punch that jolted the blonde’s head back in the other direction. Marla responded in the same manner, fists and flat hands lashing out, landing on Alice’s face and shoulders, blindly impervious to the blows and slaps raining on her.

  Once again they closed, grabbing hair with one hand, striking, gripping and pushing with the other. More by accident than design Marla hooked a leg behind Alice and they went down still locked in each other’s grasp. Over and over they churned on the floor in a wild, unskilled wrestling tangle. For almost four minutes they rolled and struggled, going on to the divan and bouncing back to the floor. Alice lost her shoes and the crisscross fastenings of Marla’s left Grecian slipper came unfastened, falling from her wildly waving, shapely leg. Buttons popped from Alice’s blouse and it ripped along one shoulder. She felt the material tangling her arms and wriggled the arms free, leaving the blouse trailing down her back. Soon after Alice’s widely clawing fingers ripped the right shoulder strap from Marla’s swimsuit, yet so blindly furious were they that neither girl gave a thought to the damage their clothing suffered.

  So filled with blind rage were the girls, that they might have gone on rolling and tearing at each other until exhaustion brought an end to the brawl. They bit, hit, kicked, locked legs around each other, screaming, gasping and mouthing curses. Then Marla burrowed her head down and bit hard, her teeth sinking into the bare flesh just under Alice’s breasts. Burning pain knifed into Alice and jolted her out of the fight-rage which filled her. Suddenly she realized what she was doing and also that she must end this madness before one of them received a serious injury.

  All this tore through Alice’s mind as she screeched in pain and hurled the blonde away from her. Blood oozed out of the bite, a deep oval of indentations in her flesh. Marla landed on her back, once elegant hair looking like a tangled wool mop, face reddened, sweat and tear-soaked, the make-up smeared and marred by blood. In the struggle the swimsuit had torn away from her right side and a bare breast showed brown against the white material—it seemed that Marla sunbathed in the nude to obtain an all-over tan. The tanned flesh showed bruises where Alice’s fists landed, fingers dug in or the blonde crashed into furniture.