by P C Hatter
“Where would Griggs get that kind of money?”
“He didn’t get it from a bank, and no one around here has that kind of cash. Those who do show up with a roll of cash and start flashing it around usually end up in jail the next day or disappear.”
“Did you mention this to the police?”
“I just found out. Besides, I doubt they’ll be back to ask.”
“Thanks Lou, anytime you need a favor, just ask.”
“Sure. Anything to find out what happened with Griggs.”
Once I got off the phone, I mulled over the situation. Griggs now had a reason for going back to safecracking. Loan sharks aren’t people you’d want to deal with. Too bad he hit the wrong apartment. The situation made me angry, and I didn’t know where the driver was so that I could take it out on him.
It took me all afternoon to find what I wanted down at the docks. I don’t know how many times I had to flash my badge, but I finally found the right paymaster who handled Daniel Griggs’ card. Baboons are weird looking people at the best of times. This one had a red and blue nose.
After he finished what he was doing and hung the clipboard on the wall, he asked, “What can I do for you?”
“You remember a cheetah named Daniel Griggs?”
“Yeah.” The baboon made it clear he wasn’t about to get talkative.
“Did he have any close friends on the dock?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you know where I can find a guy named Carl Lachlan?”
“That kiwi? He got paid today, so he’s probably drinking away his paycheck across the way.” The baboon went back to his paperwork, and I left to search for Carl Lachlan.
I finally found him in the last bar on the street. The place could hardly be called a bar. Long and narrow, it was a place only a drunkard on their last dollar would go because they got kicked out of every place else.
Carl Lachlan was easy enough to spot. The small squat bird sat on the end of a bench watching someone play a game of shuffleboard. By the way he wobbled, I figured he was already loaded.
I pulled up a chair next to him and asked, “Are you Carl Lachlan?”
“Beat it.”
“How would you like that beak of yours bent?”
Lachlan tried to get tough by jumping up on his skinny little legs, but I pushed him back and had to laughed at the site. He looked more like a cartoon character than a bird. “Listen, Carl. I want to talk to you about your friend Daniel Griggs. He’s dead.”
The feathers, if you could call them that, on Lachlan’s body puffed out and his eyes grew wide, giving an even more comical appearance. Others noticed and grew curious.
“Quick, grab the booth.” Lachlan didn’t wait for me but scurried over to a newly vacated booth. I grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar first before I joined him.
“Who did he owe money to, Lachlan?”
Lachlan almost spilled his drink down his front, he was so nervous. “You a cop?”
“Private investigator.”
“You’re going to be a dead investigator if you don’t get out of here.”
“Answer the question.”
“I don’t know nothing.”
“He owed three grand.”
“And he’s dead. I don’t want to be next. Okay? Leave me alone.” Lachlan slid out of the booth and headed for the front door. Instead of going out, he bolted up a set of narrow stairs.
I sat at the booth and ordered another drink. The bartender took my dollar but didn’t bring back my change as the bar grew unnaturally quiet.
These guys had no idea who they were dealing with. I finished my drink and headed for the restroom in the back to do my business. I’d finished washing my hands when a pig in a double-breasted suit came in.
“He’s a big tiger.”
“Yeah.” The coyote behind him grinned. The pig pulled a sap out of his pocket and the coyote a pair of brass knuckles. I stepped back until my back was to the stall door and let them come to me. The pig was nearly slobbering over himself in anticipation until I pulled out my .45 and let them have a good hard look.
I don’t usually like using my gun to hit people with, so I used my claws and opened up the side of the little piggy’s face. Damn, did he squeal. He also dropped the sap. The coyote lunged, and I was forced to either shoot him or hit him with my .45. Not wanting to make too much of a mess, I knocked a few of his teeth out and took his brass knuckles.
Little piggy made a go at me again, so I kicked the stuffing out of him before giving him a taste of his own sap by using it on his hand. The quick snap of bones breaking was a nice sound.
The pair moved aside to let me pass, and I walked out the door. At the bar, I dropped the sap and brass knuckles on the worn surface, and told the bartender, “You owe me change.”
The bull quick and rang up a no sale on the register and gave me fifty cents. Nobody breathed as I left the bar.
I checked with the timekeeper, found that Lachlan lived not far from Griggs, and decided to pay him a visit. Traffic was bad, and by the time I got to the address it was dark. The place was a rooming house, and the crow of a landlady glared out her window at me waiting to see if I was either a prospective tenant or visitor. Her glare strengthened when I asked for Carl Lachlan, but told me he’d just come in.
Lachlan wasn’t expecting to see me when he opened his door and did his cartoon character puff ball act again.
“Hello, Lachlan.” I lit a cigarette and stepped into the room forcing Lachlan to step back. “Guess you knew the two males would go after me and didn’t want to watch the fun.”
“What happened?”
“There’s some people you don’t mess with. I’m one of those. Did you pull the same stunt on your friend? Did you run when they came looking for him?”
Lachlan collapsed into a chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I got right up in his face. “The loan shark racket. Daniel Griggs, a cheetah who used to be a friend of yours took money from a loan shark. When he couldn’t pay it back, they threatened his cub so that he’d do a job for them. Only he miffed the job, and they killed him for it. Now do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Listen, you got to get out of here.” Lachlan was shaking so bad, feathers were falling off.
With a snarl, I showed lots of teeth. “When you tell me who’s banking the soaks along the docks.”
“I can’t.”
A thought occurred to me and I voiced it. “The dog and pig show wasn’t for me was it? They were for you. Only you pawned them off on me.”
“I don’t—”
“Tell me, or would you like to find out what happened to the guys at the bar?”
“Daniel needed money, and I had a good tip on a horse. We won, but it wasn’t enough, and he hit up a loan shark to make a bigger bet. We won that one too. I didn’t want to take another chance, so I took my share and left. All I know is Daniel paid the guy what he owed then decided to make another loan for a bet and lost his shorts.”
“So Griggs’ owed a grand.”
“It’s one for five a week if you can’t pay back. That’s big money and quick.”
“Who was the shark?”
When Lachlan spoke, it was barely a whisper. “Lenard Whitetip. He hangs out at the Aquarium Bar on Eighth Avenue.”
I nodded and let myself out. Lachlan followed me to the door and watched as I left. So did his landlady.
The sky clouded over and threatened to rain again. At the corner candy store, I used the pay phone to call Duke and managed to get him at the office. I told him to stay put, that I’d be right down.
Police headquarters was quiet for once. Every owl and fox on the nightshift were catching up on paperwork, and the bat manning the elevator was reading a book. I got in the elevator, and he took me up to Duke’s floor.
Duke was at the file cabinet when I came in. “How come you’re working nights?”
“Don’t you read the papers?” Duke slamm
ed the cabinet closed and sat down.
“There haven’t been any juicy murders lately.”
“But there is a large gambling problem. Namely Dean Taylor and Guy Marsh. The D.A. has everybody working on it.”
“It’s not an election year. What’s got the D.A.’s feathers in a ruffle?”
“What can I say, he has it in for Taylor and his outfit.”
“Nice to know the D.A. wants to ride somebody else’s back other than mine.”
Duke shook his head. “He’s trying but not succeeding. He hasn’t made a successful raid on a syndicate establishment since he decided to go after them.”
“So there’s a leak somewhere. Any suspects?”
“No. Somehow Taylor has a pipeline straight into the D.A.’s office. We’ve checked for bugs, vetted personnel, you name it, and we still come up with nothing. You and I both know how that peacock gets when things don’t go his way.”
I made a face and Duke kept on talking.
“Even the surprise raids get spoiled. Whatever they’re doing to learn what we’re up to, the information travels fast.”
The sound of a typewriter outside the office stopped and a squat hedgehog came through the door with a wire basket loaded down with papers. Behind her was a dark filly with lots of curves. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.
When the hedgehog left, Duke introduced the filly. “Mrs. Blacksaddle, have you met Kaiser Wrench?”
She flicked her tail. “No, but the District Attorney has mentioned him several times.”
I gave her another smile. “Nothing good I suspect.”
“Not at all.” Mrs. Blacksaddle went back to sorting the papers on Duke’s desk, but her eyes kept shifting my way.
“Mrs. Blacksaddle is the D.A.’s personal secretary,” said Duke. “She and two others are giving the department a hand with all the manual labor.
I think I was leering. “I’m not bad at that myself.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Mrs. Blacksaddle.
“You should quit getting your information second hand.”
When she finished what she was doing, she turned to me. “Maybe I should.” She gave me a smoldering glance and sashayed out the door.
Duke glared at me. “I swear, Kaiser, you and females should not be anywhere near each other.”
“They are nice to look at.”
“You tend to do more than just look. Do you know who that mare is? Of course you don’t, high society doesn’t associate with the likes of you. Mrs. Elenore Blacksaddle is from a prominent family out in Texas. Oil barons. As a sideline, Mr. Patrick Blacksaddle, Elenore’s father trains race horses.”
“Blacksaddle Racers?”
“That’s the one,” said Duke.
“Why a bunch of males would don bright colored shorts, put numbers on shirts, and run around a track is beyond me.”
“People bet on those races, and like boxing, a good athlete can make some money.”
“Without the brain trauma.” I lit another cigarette and sat down. “So why is she working for the peacock?”
“When she was eighteen, she refused the idea of an arranged marriage. Apparently, the row was so bad, she packed up and left. The old stallion disinherited her, of course. Mrs. Blacksaddle has been with the department for fifteen years.”
“Arranged marriage? What are we, in the dark ages?”
Duke shrugged. “They’re racehorses, family lines and all that.”
“Why doesn’t the D.A. use her to get the inside track on the wire rooms?”
“He tried, she’s too well known. She’s always at the track when one of her family is racing, and when she bets, she usually wins. The newspapers did a feature about her not too long ago.” Duke gave me a thoughtful look. “So, what brought you to my office?”
“Griggs.”
“Oh, him. We found the Buick in Brooklyn. It was stolen, no prints. But there was a nice size hole in the gas tank where your bullet hit, and another in the rear window.”
I took another drag on my cigarette. “Griggs was in hock up to his neck with a loan shark.”
“So?”
“Who’s running the racket?”
“Nelson Saldonia used to run it back in the day.”
“The frog died in 1940. Why is he still making news?” We stared at each other until I asked, “Who’s Lenard Whitetip?”
“Where do you get your information from? I swear you have your nose into everything under the sun.”
“Who is he?”
“The shark is a stoolie for the department. He claims to be a promoter but has no source of income.”
“What does he promote?”
Duke’s ears flipped back. “If someone wants something, he gets it and charges a finder’s fee.”
“He’s a loan shark.”
“If you can prove it, I’ll arrest him, but otherwise my hands are tied.”
“I’ll have him begging to tell everything.”
“Did I not say that Whitetip is a shark? Have you ever seen a land shark? Emotionless garbage disposals is one phrase that comes to mind.”
“Fine.” I got up and left his office. The hedgehog walked by and got on the elevator. I decided to do some investigating of the offices and went back down the corridor.
When I opened the door to one of the offices, Elenore Blacksaddle had a foot on the chair and was fixing her stocking.
“Nice leg,” I said.
She looked at me but didn’t move. “It’s one of a pair.”
“Very nice. Are you doing anything tonight?”
“I was going out with you, wasn’t I?” She took her foot down, straightened her skirt, and grabbed her purse. “Shall we?”
I held out my arm. She took it and said, “If my boss sees me with you, he’ll have you investigated from top to bottom.”
“The peacock’s had me investigated so many times, he knows how many stripes I have.”
“He still might. Everything’s been crazy here. War-time security and all. I made a joke about someone across the street with a telescope, and he pulled down the blinds.”
We got out to the car and I held the door for her.
“Where are we going?”
“Ever seen a land shark?”
“No.”
“Neither have I.”
I parked the car in a lot on Fifty-second and we walked down to the Aquarium Bar. Elenore eyed me with suspicion but said nothing more. The place was all chrome, plastic, and a lot of fish tanks. Two storks were sharing a bowl stocked with goldfish, while an albatross was trying to eat his dancing squid without it tapdancing off the table. The act on stage was warming up so we could still hear okay.
Elenore asked, “Bar or back room?”
I gave the squirrel at the check booth my hat and asked, “Is Lenard Whitetip in yet?”
The squirrel gave me an appraising glance. “Back room.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, tiger.” She gave me a pasteboard stub along with a wink.
We got our drinks and headed for the back. Four tables were occupied by couples but only one had a single occupant who was reading the paper. While his gray body was long, the guy had short limbs.
Elenore didn’t wait for an invitation but sat down in a chair next to him. I pulled out my .45 and lowered his newspaper with it.
Cold eyes looked back at me. “What do you want?”
“Lenard Whitetip?”
“Yeah.”
“There was a cheetah by the name of Daniel Griggs. He hit you up for some cash and now he’s dead.”
Whitetip just stared.
I asked, “Who killed him?”
“How should I know?”
“Don’t give me that. When you put the squeeze on him, he had to pull a robbery to pay it off. Because of that, he’s dead.”
Whitetips head tipped until he was looking at me with one eye as he leaned forward. He didn’t seem to notice the gun. “I didn’t squeeze him. Griggs paid up.”
>
“You’re lying.”
“Why should I? I don’t like it when good customers die. Check with the bartender at Anderson’s Bar. The boar’s name is Julius. Julius not only saw Griggs pay me, but I bought the bar a round of drinks.”
I handed Elenore the .45. “Make sure he doesn’t leave.” She took the gun with a smile, and I went to the payphone. The bartender not only backed up Whitetip’s story but said that while the shark came off as scary, he was really a nice guy.
Back at the table, I retrieved my gun from Elenore and holstered it. “Your friend cleared you.”
Whitetip nodded. “Anything else I can help you with?”
Duke was right. Landsharks were cold fish. “No. Thanks for your time.”
“Glad to be of service.” Whitetip went back to his reading while Elenore and I left the bar. On the way out, I spotted someone I didn’t expect to see and had to stop. Dean Taylor and Guy Marsh sat at a table with a few other banker looking suits.
“Hello, Guy. Have any more friends turned into roadkill lately?”
While Guy turned every color in the rainbow, Taylor cocked his head and smiled. The horned lizard asked, “Friends of yours, Guy?”
“Yeah, old friends. Someday I’m going to bust his teeth out.”
Before any more could be said, Elenore pushed me to the exit. I got my hat, and we headed back for the car.
“Good grief, Kaiser. A joke’s one thing but don’t go too far. Do you know who those males are?”
“Yea, they’re scum.”
“And dangerous.”
“That makes it more fun.”
“Do go easy on me. Those two scare me.”
I put an arm around her shoulders. “When punks like that scare me, I’ll hang my hat up. They’re big because they have money to buy power and guns. Take away their money, and they’re just punks with an attitude.”
“Buy me a drink? I think I need one.”
We stopped at a bar, and she got her drink. After that I took her home.
Elenore lived in the upper Sixties on the top floor of a new structure surrounded by old brownstones. I parked the car on the curb and held the car door for her. “Are you coming up for a nightcap?”