Edge of the Law

by Deming, Richard

  “The State’s Attorney may be able to do something with it. I can’t.”

  Bridget’s eyes widened. “You’re planning to go to the State’s Attorney?”

  Sands glanced at her. “I’ve kept you pretty much in the dark, haven’t I?”

  “You haven’t been very communicative. But I understand why. You’re afraid if you get caught, I’d give away that I’ve been hiding you if I know what’s going on.”

  “It won’t get you in trouble to know my future plans,” he said. “They’re entirely legal. Tomorrow I’ll get in touch with Jack Carroll, have him pick up Ginny and meet me at the state capitol. They’re both willing to tell their stories to the State’s Attorney. This letter and photostat may or may not be usable evidence, but the State’s Attorney can decide that. At least it, plus the two statements, should convince him it’s worth an investigation to see if I was framed. Which at worst should get me a fair trial in some court Amatti doesn’t control.”

  Bridget’s eyes lighted up. “They won’t even try you when they hear the truth,” she said confidently. “Jud, I think we’re going to beat this rap.”

  He grinned at her. “Not too long ago you told me you weren’t a gun moll. You’re beginning to talk like one.”

  She blushed. “People rub off on each other, I guess. You are going to get out of it, though, aren’t you?”

  His grin faded. “Maybe. Then all I’ll have to worry about is Amatti’s guns and Henny Ault.”

  CHAPTER XXII

  SANDS’ PLANS for the next day were disrupted that night. At nine o’clock Bridget rang him from the desk.

  “Mrs. Thompson just phoned,” Bridget said worriedly. “She sounded awfully strange.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She was so stiff and formal. As though she were reciting lines from some bad play. I don’t know just how to describe it.”

  “What did she say?” Sands asked.

  “She said it was urgent to get a message to you at once. She asked if I could get hold of you immediately. I told her I thought so, and she gave me a telephone number. Carlson 6-2033. She wants you to call it at nine-fifteen sharp. She emphasized that it couldn’t be a minute earlier or later.”

  “Hmm,” Sands said. “What part of town is the Carlson exchange?”

  “It’s way north. Should I call the operator and find out the address? I think she’d tell me, since this is a hotel switchboard.”

  Sands glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about twelve minutes. Try it and call me back.”

  Bridget rang back in five minutes. “It’s a drugstore pay phone,” she reported. “She must be waiting in the booth for your call.”

  Sands said, “You sure it was Ginny who called?”

  “It was her voice. I’ve talked to her on the phone before.”

  “Voices can be imitated. This sounds a little screwy. I’ll hang on while you ring Ginny’s apartment. I won’t talk if she answers, because there may be a tap on that line. If she’s there, just ask if she called you before.”

  “All right,” Bridget said.

  There was the sound of a phone ringing. After ten rings, Bridget said, “She must not be home, Jud.”

  “Okay. Ring the number at exactly nine fifteen and we’ll see what happens. There isn’t time to get to another phone, so we’ll have to take a chance.”

  “A chance on what?”

  “That it’s a police trap. They may have arranged with the phone company to start tracing the call as soon as that number rings.”

  “You think they could have?” Bridget asked in a frightened voice.

  “It doesn’t seem likely. The only one who knew you were in contact with me was Ginny. And possibly Jack Carroll. But I don’t like your description of her voice.”

  “What shall I do, Jud?”

  “Ring the number. An imitation of Ginny’s voice won’t fool me. If it sounds like a trap, I’ll hang up. I think it takes about three minutes to trace a call, even when things are all set up in advance.”

  “All right, Jud. There’s only about two minutes to go. Want to hang on?”

  “Yeah,” Sands said. “I’ll hang on.”

  He set down the phone long enough to light a cigarette, then picked it up again. Two minutes ticked by.

  Bridget’s voice said, “Jud?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m ringing the number now.”

  Sands stubbed out his cigarette. The other phone rang once, twice, then a third time. The click of a receiver being lifted stopped the ringing. Then there was silence.

  “Ginny?” Sands inquired.

  There was a low masculine chuckle. Then a nasal voice said, “Ginny ain’t here, pal. It’s me.”

  Sands felt hair rise all over his scalp. He recognized the voice. He said nothing.

  “Don’t hang up,” the voice said quickly. “This ain’t no trick to trace your call. I don’t work with the cops. I set it up this way in case the phone company gave you this address. I didn’t want you maybe showing up in person instead of phoning.”

  “What’s the pitch, Henny?” Sands asked in a tight voice.

  “I had your girl friend make that first call,” Henny Ault said. “It took a little persuasion to get her to make it, but she don’t show no marks.”

  A vein in Sands’ forehead began to beat. “You’ve got Ginny?” he asked quietly.

  “Naturally. I had to find some way to smoke you out. Your ex-boss tells me you bucked him over her, so I figured she’d make a good lever. I also figured she’d know how to get in touch, since she’s such a close friend.”

  Sands said, “This state hangs kidnapers, Henny.”

  Ault emitted a nasal laugh. “They already want to hang me, only under a different name. I’d never have come after you here, but you don’t say no to Mark. I want to make a deal with you, Jud.”

  Sands remained silent.

  “Your girl friend gets turned loose unharmed if you give me your word you’ll go through with the deal. Otherwise you get her back in sections.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You know a place called the Kit Kat Inn, I think.”

  “I’ve been there.”

  “Yeah. Renzo tells me you pulled a cute trick at its blackjack table. It closes at one A.M.”

  “So?”

  “Just knock on the front door at one fifteen. It’ll be open for you. Leave your gun at home.”

  Sands said, “Do you think I’m nuts?”

  “You’ve got the wrong idea, pal. I talked long-distance to Mark earlier. Orders have been changed.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  “Mark decided he wants you back alive. All we’re going to do is take a long automobile trip back to Florida.”

  “Mark wants me alive, eh? For what? So he can pull the trigger himself?”

  “That’s between you and Mark,” Ault said. “I just work here.”

  “And if I don’t show up at the Kit Kat?”

  “You’ll be there if you say you will. I know how you feel about welshers.”

  “Suppose I don’t say I will?”

  Henny Ault’s voice was suddenly cold. “Your cute little girl friend loses a piece of herself at a time. As slow as I can make it.”

  Sands’ voice turned as cold as the hired killer’s. “You win the pot, Henny. But I’m not sure you feel like I do about welshing. So I’ll set some terms too.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “Is Ginny going to be at the Kit Kat when I get there?”

  “You kidding?” Ault asked. “That’s one of Renzo’s spots. He’s coöperating, but he wouldn’t want no part of a kidnaping. He don’t even know I’ve got the girl.”

  “Then how do I know you won’t just kill her after I meet my part of the bargain?”

  “Guess you’ll just have to trust me, pal.”

  “Trust you, hell,” Sands growled. “If you want me to go along with this setup, you’ll do exactly as I say. You have Ginny in front of the Kit Kat in a ca
r at one fifteen. I’ll drive up and double park. I get out of my car and she gets out of yours. She gets in mine and drives away. When she’s out of sight, with nothing following, I hand over my gun and walk into the Kit Kat with you.”

  Ault was silent for a moment. “How do I know you won’t start blasting when you get your gun out?”

  “Because you know I don’t welsh on deals,” Sands snapped. “Take it or leave it.”

  Ault snickered. “I won’t be there to get blasted anyway, in case you turn crooked after all these years. I’ll let the stooge Mark sent along with me keep her company in the car. It’s a deal.”

  The phone went dead.

  Sands hung up slowly. He was staring sightlessly at the wall when Bridget burst in and slammed the door behind her. Her sprinkling of freckles stood out starkly in a dead-white face.

  “I listened in, Jud,” she whispered. “What are you going to do?”

  Sands glanced at her almost without recognition. “What I said I’d do,” he said preoccupiedly.

  “They’ll kill you!”

  Sands gazed through her, thinking so furiously that he seemed unconscious of her presence.

  “You don’t have to keep your word with a man like that,” Bridget said rapidly. “This is kidnaping, Jud. We could call the FBI.”

  Sands’ eyes finally focused on her. “I always keep my word, redhead.”

  “Even under duress? You can’t deal honorably with a kidnaper and murderer.”

  Sands said patiently, “I’ve never in my life welshed on a bet, Bridget. Henny Ault knows that. If he wasn’t sure I’d keep my word, Ginny would be dead right now. As it is, he’ll keep his part of the deal in order to get me to keep mine. He’ll let Ginny go.”

  “And kill you!” she wailed. “Can’t you see that in a case like this you’d be justified in lying and cheating all you can?”

  “If I was capable of doing that, Ginny wouldn’t have a chance,” Sands said reasonably.

  Bridget gazed at him with a defeated air. “You’re deliberately going to trade your life for hers, aren’t you?” she said in a colorless voice.

  “Not quite,” he told her. “It’s not cheating to hold some cards up your sleeve for use only in case the other guy cheats. All I’ve agreed to do is walk into the Kit Kat without a gun. I haven’t guaranteed to stand still for a bullet after I get there. Got any heavy rubber bands or elastic around here?”

  After one blank look, she said, “Like a garter, for instance?”

  “That would be perfect.”

  Going into the bedroom, she returned with a fancy, lace-trimmed black garter about two inches wide.

  Examining it, Sands said, “I’ve noticed you wear these instead of a garter belt. Aren’t they a little old-fashioned?”

  “I suppose. They’ve become a little hard to find. I happen to prefer them.”

  Pulling Henny Ault’s switch-blade knife from his pocket, Sands laid it on an end table. He stripped off his coat and rolled his right sleeve to the elbow.

  The garter fitted around his forearm too loosely. Removing it, he folded over about two inches of elastic.

  “How about taking a tuck in this with needle and thread?” he asked.

  Bridget made another trip to the bedroom. Returning with a small sewing kit, she took the garter from him and made several rapid stitches. Slipping it on his arm again, he found it tight, but not so uncomfortable as to cut off circulation.

  Snapping open the switch-blade knife, he inserted it point-up under the garter on the inside of his arm so that the haft just touched his wrist. Rolling down the sleeve and buttoning his cuff, he slipped the coat back on.

  “Ault only specified no gun,” he remarked with a bleak grin.

  Crossing to the phone, he opened the phone book and riffled pages to the C section. Jack Carroll was listed in an apartment house on West Third Street.

  “When you get back to the desk, ring me Exeter 2-2055,” he told Bridget. “You’d better get back fast, incidentally. You’ve been here fifteen minutes.”

  Bridget stood looking at him for a moment before moving. She was still pale, but a little of her color had come back. Apparently his concealing the knife up his sleeve had reassured her that at least he wasn’t going to offer himself as a sacrifice without a fight.

  She said huskily, “Please don’t let them kill you, Jud.”

  “I’ll do my best to avoid it. Scoot now.”

  Turning, she went out without another word.

  Only minutes later the phone rang and Bridget told him his number was ringing. Then Jack Carroll’s voice said, “Hello.”

  “This is Jud Sands, Carroll,” Sands told him. “I’ve got some bad news for you.”

  “Oh?” The bartender’s tone showed only polite interest.

  “Ginny’s been kidnaped.”

  There was a quick indrawing of breath. Then Carroll said incredulously, “What!”

  “A professional killer named Ault has her,” Sands said rapidly. “He’s using her as bait to get at me. The proposition is that he’ll release her unharmed if I turn myself over to him. I took it, but I need your help.”

  Carroll said in a stunned voice, “Even Renzo Amatti can’t get away with something like this. If they kill her—I’m going to call the police.”

  “If you do, she’s dead,” Sands said sharply. “This isn’t Amatti’s play, though he’s coöperating with Ault. I haven’t time to explain who Ault is now. But I know how he operates. At the slightest sign of a doublecross, he’ll kill her. If you want to see her alive again, you’ll play it my way.”

  After a moment of silence, Carroll said in a shaking voice, “All right. I’ll do anything you say.”

  “You own a gun?”

  “My army forty-five. The one I carry on guard duty.”

  “Guard duty?”

  “The National Guard. Field officers carry side arms.”

  “You’re a guardsman?” Sands asked.

  “I drill two nights a week. I hold a commission as a major.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Sands said. “Load your gun and be standing in front of your apartment in twenty minutes. I’ll pick you up. We’ll discuss strategy en route.”

  Hanging up, he strode from the apartment and out into the lobby without regard as to who might be there. A tenant getting his key from Bridget gave him a casual glance, then moved toward the elevator. As he stepped into the car, he looked back at Sands as the latter approached the desk. His eyes started to widen in startled recognition as the closing elevator door shut off his view.

  “I think Mr. Evington recognized you,” Bridget said in an upset voice.

  “Who cares?” Sands inquired shortly. “Did you listen in again?”

  She nodded abashedly. “What are you going to do, Jud?”

  “Copper my bet a little. I want you to understand something, Bridget.”

  “What?”

  “After I walk out of here, don’t get any feminine ideas of saving my life by phoning the FBI. Understand?”

  Bridget blinked. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Jud.”

  “What I want you to do is exactly nothing.”

  “All right, Jud.” She looked on the verge of tears.

  Reaching across the desk, he rumpled her red hair. “See you around, redhead.”

  Abruptly he turned and headed toward the rear hallway.

  “Jud!” she waited, running from behind the desk.

  Halting, he waited until she came up to him.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me good-by?” she asked tearfully.

  The switchboard started to buzz.

  “Mr. Evington wanting to call the police,” he said dryly. “Maybe you can convince him he was mistaken.”

  Leaning down, he lightly brushed her lips with his. She tried to move against him, but he warded her off.

  “Stop acting like I’m never coming back,” he said crossly. “Go tend to your switchboard.”

  Turning again, he
strode to the back door and outside without bothering to check the parking lot first.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  JACK CARROLL was waiting at the curb when Sands pulled up in the station wagon. By the glow of a nearby street light Sands could see that his face was set in grim lines. As he climbed into the wagon, something heavy in his coat pocket clumped against the door frame overhang.

  “Brought your gun, I see,” Sands said.

  “Yeah. What’s this all about now? Go over it again slower.”

  Sands pulled away from the curb. “A character in Miami named Mark Fallon has a grudge against me. When I broke with Amatti, Renzo phoned him that I was in Ridgeford. Fallon sent a professional killer named Henny Ault to get me. Amatti is giving him all the cooperation he can. It was from Renzo that Ault found out I’d do most anything for Ginny. So Ault snatched her to smoke me out of hiding.”

  After digesting this, Carroll asked, “You know where he has her?”

  Sands had done some thinking on his way to pick up Carroll. Knowing the bartender’s feeling for Ginny, he was relatively certain Carroll would go all out in an effort to save her. But once she was safe, he suspected the blond man would feel no compulsion to risk his life for Sands. If he saw Ginny drive off alone, he might very well leave Sands to his own devices. Sands decided not to mention the arrangement he had made with Ault for Ginny’s release. Or at least the details of the arrangement.

  He said, “No. He’s agreed to release her unharmed if I show at a place called the Kit Kat Inn at one fifteen A.M. Without a gun.” He held his watch near the dash light. “That gives us three hours.”

  “You think he’s holding her there?”

  “I’m sure he isn’t. That’s one of Amatti’s spots, and Renzo wouldn’t want to be involved in a kidnaping. Ault told me over the phone that Amatti didn’t even know he had Ginny.”

  Carroll was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Once this Ault guy nets you, how do you know he’ll keep his bargain? Seems more likely he’d kill her to avoid future identification.”

  “That’s why I rang you into this,” Sands told him. “To make sure he does keep his bargain.”

  “You have some plan?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll give you the details after we case the area around the Kit Kat.”