The Great Slay

by P C Hatter

  It took me a little longer than I thought to get to Dukes office, but when I finally got there, he looked relaxed and was examining photos with his feet up on the desk.

  Duke waved me into a chair, tossed the photos on the desk, and picked up a folder to hand to me. I glanced through everything while Duke talked. “The cheetah’s name was Daniel Griggs, an ex-con. Breaking and entering. He was released four years ago. Griggs used to work for a safe and lock company before friends convinced him that was too tame of a life. He was good too. The only reason he got busted was that in his last job he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

  “Who were the friends?”

  “Petty hoods. Most are locked up or dead. Griggs seemed to have gone straight after doing his time. Even got married. She died soon after the cub was born. The cub’s name is Danny.”

  Duke pulled his feet off the desk.

  “The only reason we got his information so fast was that Daniel Griggs slipped back to his old ways last night. Just before midnight we got a call about a prowler on a fire escape of one of the nicer apartment buildings on Riverside Drive. A squad car went out but didn’t find the prowler. What they did find was a broken window and a female knocked out on the floor. She’d taken a beating. The safe was open, empty, and the lab dogs found Griggs’ print was on the dial.”

  “Great.”

  Duke must have noticed something in the tone of my voice because his ears flattened to his head, and his eyes narrowed. “You can’t have the type of murder that you can go off on one of your crusades every time.”

  I growled, and he kept on talking.

  “It’s quite possible Griggs went back to his old ways after his wife died. If he double crossed his partners, they’d be pretty miffed.”

  “And you came to that conclusion, how?”

  “Griggs would have handled the safe alone while the driver and lookout stayed outside. The cheetah gave his buddies the slip and had enough time to go home and grab his cub before they caught up with him. You said the body was frisked.”

  I tossed the report back on his desk. “That scenario sounds like something from a Hollywood script and contains more holes than a sieve.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? There’s still the question of the loot.”

  “Not to mention, Griggs knew he was going to die. He took two shots of Dutch courage and bolted as far from the cub as possible in an attempt to keep the little guy safe from his buddies.”

  Duke scratched his ears. “We might have an answer to that. The safe had three hundred dollars and a string of pearls worth twenty bucks in it.”

  “That’s not much of a haul. You’re thinking his partners wouldn’t believe him? The money’s still missing.”

  “And probably in a garbage can along with the pearls.”

  “If Griggs was on the run, he’d have kept it.” I let out a growl of frustration. “Who were his friends?”

  “Dwayne Rosemary, the raccoon, has a record as long as your arm. Lots of arrests, but only three convictions. He was picked up for disorderly conduct out in Vegas after Saldonia died, but he’s been quiet since then.”

  “Did you know he’s been hanging around Guy Marsh?”

  Duke scowled at me. “No, and how did you find that out?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Listen, Guy Marsh has his protection racket and does his best to stay clean. We’ve tried but can’t make anything stick to that lizard.”

  “You can tar and feather him.”

  “And then his lawyers would have a field day with the police department. Listen, Kaiser, the only way to get Guy Marsh behind bars is to find rock solid proof.”

  “Maybe I’ll go dig up some proof.”

  Duke rubbed his face with his hands and peeked out through his fingers. “Please, Kaiser, do not make my life more difficult than it already is.”

  “Wouldn’t I be making it easier?” Duke gave me a glare in answer. “There’s still the driver to find.”

  “Do me a favor and hide the body where I can’t find it.”

  After I left Duke’s office, I headed straight for the crime scene, then Griggs’ apartment. The neighborhood was a shabby place one step away from seeing a wrecking ball. Adults sat on the stoops drinking and smoking while the young played in the trash that littered the street. Griggs’ building was a four-story brownstone with no door in the vestibule, so I walked right in and found the super’s apartment.

  My knock was answered by a large muskox with hair that looked so thick it was a wonder he didn’t pass out from heat exhaustion. There are not too many people I have to look up to. This guy was one of them. He also didn’t scare easy.

  “What do you want?”

  “Information, would you like to bet you’re going to give it to me?”

  He let out a laugh that shook the building, let alone his body. “Cocky little punk, aren’t you? Come on in and behave yourself. I’ve got company.”

  The muskox led the way down a hall and into the kitchen. His company happened to be the local priest. The stork looked at me with mild curiosity as the building super made the introductions.

  “Father, this is… sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Kaiser Wrench, I’m a private detective. Hello Father.”

  The muskox thumbed his own chest. “I’m Lou Johnson. Sit down and I’ll grab you a cup.”

  I did as I was told and was given strong coffee and tougher biscuits.

  “Like I said, I’m a private investigator, and I’m looking into a guy who lived here until last night.”

  The muskox and stork exchanged glances before the muskox asked, “Daniel Griggs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who’s retaining you?”

  “Nobody. I’m just mad. I was there when he was shot.”

  Both relaxed and seemed to accept my statement.

  “Daniel Griggs was a good guy. His wife was nice too,” said Johnson. “The cops were here last night and again this morning.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes. They left not too long ago. Someone broke into Daniel’s apartment and trashed the place. Whoever it was, was looking for something.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “The police think he stashed the money from the robbery and his partners, who killed him, are looking for it.”

  “Bastards,” said Johnson, and followed it up with, “Sorry, Father.”

  The priest smiled and turned his attention to me. “Do you know anything about Daniel Griggs, Mr. Wrench?”

  “I know he had a record.”

  The stork nodded. “Yes, he did, but he was doing his best to lead a straightforward life for himself, his wife, and his son. Daniel knew he could come to either me or Lou if he were in trouble. Why would he suddenly go back to crime?”

  Johnson nodded in agreement. “The Father’s right. It don’t make no sense. Daniel wouldn’t even cheat at cards. He wanted to be someone his cub could look up too. Things were tough when his wife was sick, but he didn’t have the doctor bills to worry about anymore. Daniel was pretty busted up when she died, but his cub became the center of his world.”

  “Did he drink?”

  “Not a drop. Never.”

  The stork lifted a feathered finger. “Mr. Wrench, about a week ago Daniel came to the church and asked me to hold on to his important documents. Insurance policies and such. They were made out to little Danny, and he wanted to make sure that if anything happened to him, the cub would be cared for.”

  That perked up my ears. “Did he seem jumpy, like he had something on his mind?”

  “Yes, he was upset about something. At the time, I attributed it to his wife’s death. His story was plausible. Single parents have such a difficult time if there is no other family to help raise the young. It’s not the first time someone has given me important documents or copies in case something happens to them. If I’d have known he would…” The stork trailed off.

  Johnson balled his fist and shook his head.
/>   I asked, “Did Griggs need money?”

  The muskox nodded. “The docks have been slow. Two, three days a week down at pier 51 isn’t much work, but he made do.”

  “Friends?”

  “There was a funny little guy who’d stop by every once in a while, from the docks. Looked more like a ball of hair with legs and a beak. Then there’s the mole who sells newspapers on the corner. They’d play chess. That’s it other than me.”

  I looked at the stork and asked, “Father, did Griggs make any plans concerning his son?”

  “Yes. Daniel wanted Danny to be brought up by one of our church organizations. He even made a will specifying that, and the insurance money was to pay for his schooling. Everything else was to be held in trust for the cub, but we have no idea what’s happened to poor Danny.”

  “He’s with me at the moment, or rather with my neighbor. Here’s my card. When you have everything ready, give me a call, and I’ll bring him to you.”

  I passed my card to the relieved looking bird. “Thank heaven. The police didn’t seem to know anything about Danny when we asked.”

  “The cubs safe and the reason I plan on hunting down his father’s killer.”

  Something in my face must have scared the old priest. “Surely you don’t plan to…”

  “He does, Father,” said Johnson, “and if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”

  I nodded and got up from the table. “Don’t suppose you know the name of his friend at the docks?”

  “Lachlan, I think. Carl Lachlan.”

  “Thanks. Mind if I check out his apartment?”

  “Top floor, first door off the landing. Don’t bother asking the old biddies if they seen anything. They were all doing the weekly wash, otherwise we could have caught who did it. Them busybodies are fit to be tied.”

  “Thanks for the coffee. Nice to have met you, Father.”

  “Likewise.”

  Johnson was right about someone searching the place. Everything that wasn’t taken apart was ripped to shreds. Whatever they were looking for they didn’t find, because there was no indication of a sudden stop to the search. I looked around but even I couldn’t find an item of value. It looked like Duke’s explanation might be right.

  I went back down and sat in my car with a cigarette, thinking. In the end, I figured that I still had a driver to find. So, I started the car and headed to Riverside Drive to check out the apartment where everything went wrong for Daniel Griggs.

  Trying to find someone who’d seen something that night turned out to be a waste of time. This was a money district, and everybody kept to themselves. The fact I couldn’t find anyone did have me wondering who called in the prowler and whether it’d been Griggs himself.

  Cadillacs were lined up on the curb in front of sheer-faced apartment buildings with brocade covered doormen. A janitor wouldn’t swear to it, but thought he remembered a Buick and a noisy racoon the week before. Two bucks got me through an underground alley to the back court for a peek.

  One look, and I knew Griggs had easy access to every apartment. All the buildings had the same access, and once in the rear court, all a burglar had to do was reach up and grab the bottom rung of the fire ladder. When I was done looking, I thanked the janitor and walked back out onto the street.

  Next, I went to the building where Griggs pulled the job, bypassed the doorman, found the name Leslie Haze on the bell board, and pressed the button. There was a phone set in a niche by the board so that the residents could verify the caller before unlocking the front door.

  The voice that answered sounded like it came from a sexy angel with horns on her tilted halo.

  “Mrs. Haze? This is Kaiser Wrench, Private Investigator. I was wondering if you could spare a few minutes and talk to me about what happened last night.”

  “Yes. Please come up.”

  The door unlocked, and I took the elevator up to her apartment. When I used the brass knocker on the door, a warthog in a nurse’s uniform answered. The female gave me a scowl and marched me into the sitting room where the angel was waiting. Half of the cougar’s face was perfect, the other side was nice and swollen from a fist.

  She took one look at my expression and said, “You had better be properly sympathetic, Mr. Wrench, or out you go.”

  I couldn’t help giving her a grin. “Half of you is the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen.”

  “I half thank you,” she said, and grinned back. To the nurse she said, “Thank you Mrs. Rose, I’ll be fine for now. See you about five?”

  The nurse agreed, picked up her coat, and left.

  “I don’t really need a nurse, but she’s compliments of the management and a wonderful cook.” Leslie Haze pulled the flimsy housecoat she was wearing around her and headed for the sideboard. “They’re hoping I don’t sue for neglecting to keep their property protected.” The sheer nylon of the housecoat crackled and molded to her figure, and I couldn’t help staring.

  She handed me a glass and asked, “Like what you see?”

  “Very nice.”

  Mrs. Haze gave me the once over and said, “I bet you are too.” She raised her glass and took a sip. “What would you like to know?”

  “Right at the moment, I’m trying to figure out why you seem so familiar.”

  That made her smile. “It’s nice to be remembered after all this time.” She pointed to a picture perched on the piano, and I picked it up. A much younger Leslie Haze wore a pre-Civil War dress in the photo. Almost hidden by the frame was the line, released by Flying Horse Motion Picture Company. Leslie Haze was familiar because I’d seen her on the silver screen.

  “That was ten years ago,” she said. “People have short memories.”

  “Why did you quit?”

  “That’s a short sad tale the tabloids had fun with. A charming male decided to play up to me to further his career, while playing around with my secretary behind my back. Jealousy got the better of me, and I threatened to have him blacklisted if he didn’t break it off. He did as he was told, but my heartbroken secretary decided to play a version of Hamlet’s Ophelia and drove her car off a cliff.”

  Leslie took a sip of her drink and sighed. “Hollywood can be unforgiving, so before anyone could tear my contract up, I pulled up stakes and came to New York. I made a few investments and now live the way I want.”

  I looked around the room. Nothing in it came cheap. Leslie Haze did well for herself.

  “You didn’t come up here for me to tell you of past woes, but about the robbery.”

  “True.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I left here about seven, picked up one of the Magic Theater members who’d broken their arm and drove them home. Visited a friend and was back here around midnight. When I walked in, I saw the flashlight and the lights went out. Well maybe not that quickly, I think I tried screaming. But the next thing I knew the police were standing over me.”

  “Did they tell you that your burglar is dead?”

  Leslie’s eyes grew wide. “No. What happened?”

  “His partners shot him.”

  “Oh dear, and the money? If I had a choice, I’d rather have my pearls back. Sentimental reasons.”

  “Gone. What’s surprising is that they went through all that trouble and only got three hundred dollars. That’s not much of a haul for breaking into a safe.”

  “Is it?” She waggled a finger above her head. “Then they must have been after Mr. Albane’s safe. He lives one floor above me. Do you know who Anthony Albane is?”

  “Rich playboy?”

  “That’s right. Mr. Albane keeps a small fortune in his safe. Spending money, he calls it. He wasn’t home either. I’d met him on my way out and remember him saying something about going clubbing.”

  “You been up there.”

  “Only for friendly neighborhood parties. I’m too old for his tastes.”

  “You mind if I give him a call?”

  “Suit yourself.” Leslie showed me where
the phone was, and I used her directory to look up Albane’s number and called. I acted like I was from his insurance company and asked a few questions. Sure enough, the Moose was loaded. Both with liquor and the ten-grand in his safe. The guy was so talkative it took me ten minutes just to get him off the phone, but he confirmed Leslie’s assumption.

  “So now what?” asked Leslie.

  “I’m going to find the safecracker’s friend. For some unknown reason, the burglar busted into your safe. Someone that was on the straight and narrow. He left a cub behind, and I plan on finding out why and make sure the guy responsible for putting him between a rock and a hard place pays.”

  “A cub?”

  “Yeah, just a little mite.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, he’s okay for now.” I looked over at the picture on the piano and asked, “Do you have another one of those photos lying around?”

  She turned her unbruised side my way and asked, “Won’t I do in person?” She licked her lips, and I leaned in to kiss her, but stopped short. I didn’t want to hurt her and knew her bruising would still be sore.

  Leslie laughed and touched her finger to my lips. “Will I see you again?”

  I nodded and left.

  CHAPTER 3

  That afternoon, I stopped at the office. Only the elevator operator said hello. Everything in the office was the same as I left it, but Velvet was missing. After saying a few choice words, I sat down at my desk and flipped through the folder she’d left me. There was nothing important, just a record of bills paid and the bank statement. I shoved the folder into the desk and pulled the whisky bottle out but didn’t drink.

  The phone on Velvet’s desk started to ring, and I got up to answer it hoping it would be her. A male’s voice came over the line instead. “Is this Kaiser Wrench?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Lou Johnson, the super down in Griggs’ building.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m not sure if you talked to the mole. The one I told you about that sells newspapers on the corner. He’s pretty busted up about Griggs’ death. When I stepped out to get the paper we got to talking. He said that after Griggs’ wife died, they were playing a game of chess and some guy came around wanting the money Griggs owed him. Seems Griggs borrowed three grand from someone.”