The Great Slay

by P C Hatter

  “So, Taylor’s making sure the guys are coached before you talk to them. That’s a good sign. Did you get a line on the leak?”

  “A first-grade detective in hock up to his eyeballs, but we still don’t know how he gets the information out. The only reason I’m telling you is that I may pull you in on this, so keep mum.”

  “Okay.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone. The only other person I could think of for digging up information went by the name of Pudgy Wilkins. I took a guess at what bar Pudgy was at, and the bartender put the rabbit on the line.

  “Pudgy speaking.”

  “This is Kaiser Wrench. You still have wide open ears.”

  “Sure. Why? Got some good stuff?” I could almost hear Pudgy’s ears turning.

  “Have you ever heard of a private detective called Knuckles? He’s a pig and his partner is a coyote.”

  Silence came over the line before I heard the scraping of a phone booth door being closed. Pudgy asked in a whisper, “What are you working on? If you’re looking for the guys I think you’re looking for, you’re asking for trouble.

  “I’ll pay you for the information. I’m working on a murder case.”

  “Don’t worry about the money. Just let me have the inside track on what’s going on. Let me double check my facts, and I’ll meet you at the Two-tone Bar. Two hours?”

  I agreed and met Pudgy in a dive that had more light in its sign outside than the room inside. Pudgy sat with a pair of female squirrels whose figures could barely be contained inside the dresses they wore. They were leaning forward watching his coin trick, while he leered down their necklines.

  Pudgy spotted me and waved me over. “Hello, tiger. Ladies, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Kaiser Wrench. Kaiser, this is Sunny and Joy. Sunny here is a maid for the Decker family.” Pudgy’s wink told me that whatever juicy bits Sunny was telling him about the Decker family was going to wind up on the front page tomorrow.

  “Joy here is a model.” While Pudgy wiggled his eyebrows, ears, and nose, Joy pulled out a picture from her purse to show me. I’m not sure what she was modeling because she had a body that would make a statue drool.

  We spent the next hour dancing and drinking. Pudgy didn’t say anything until the squirrels went to powder their nose. When he did, he leaned in and kept his voice low. “The males you’re looking for are hurting. Did you have a hand in that?”

  “They annoyed me.”

  “The pig wants your guts. The pair are nothing but hoods with a badge, and they do whatever the highest bidder tells them.”

  “Who’s the latest bidder?”

  Pudgy looked at me and his ears fell sideways. “Do you know anything about the racket? The town is divided into sections. It’s similar to bookies. They pay the local big guy, and he pays Dean Taylor.”

  “Where’s Taylor in all this?”

  “He’s not, but one of the locals borrowed the thugs. His name’s Sal Greenly. The guy keeps his nose clean, and the bodyguards are to keep the small-timers on their toes. So, what gives, Kaiser?”

  “The other night there was a murder that appeared small, but the more I look the bigger things get. I don’t have a story for you yet, but when I do, you’ll get it.”

  Pudgy nodded. “Okay. Who got killed?”

  “It’s been in the newspapers. A cheetah by the name of Daniel Griggs. Then there was a raccoon, I’ve forgotten his name, but seen him around, and a bird named Carl Lachlan. Now, where do I find Sal Greenly?”

  The rabbit rattled off a couple of addresses and added, “Listen, Kaiser, keep me out of this mess. I don’t get into the rough stuff, and I don’t want any of those thugs after my pelt.”

  “Don’t worry.” I tossed a fin down on the table to cover the squirrels’ drink.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “I got work to do.”

  “But what am I going to do with two dames?”

  “You’ll figure it out, Pudgy.”

  Outside the weather started to turn again, and the rain came down. I grabbed my raincoat out of the back and got behind the wheel. Sal Greenly needed to answer a few questions. I found him at his home in the Bronx. The three-story fieldstone building with picture windows sat on a walled in half-acre that could have easily brought in a quarter million at auction. Then there was the new Packard parked outside.

  I parked my old heap at the curb and walked to the front door. When I rang the bell, it was answered by a dark male with watery eyes. “What do you want?”

  “Sal Greenly.”

  The salamander sneered and opened the door to let me in, at gunpoint no less. “Who are you?” He waved me inside and locked the door.

  “Kaiser Wrench, I’m a private investigator. Would you like to see my badge, or did your guys tell you all about me?”

  “If you’re looking for them—”

  “I’m looking for you, about a murder. You mind putting the heater away?”

  “Later, I want to hear more about this murder.” The salamander waved me into the next room and sat down but left me standing. Plus, he kept the gun on me.

  What can I say, I took offense to his rudeness. “Have you ever been shot? I have, more than once. Either put the gun away, or I’m going to give you a chance to use it. If you miss, you won’t get a second shot.” I backed up my statement with a growl and reached for my own gun.

  The slimy little bastard backed down and dropped the gun on the floor. The scowl on his face deepened as he huddled in his chair. He didn’t like being found out he was yellow.

  Now, I had the advantage. “Do you remember a cheetah named Daniel Griggs?”

  Greenly nodded.

  “Do you know he’s dead?”

  “You can’t tag me with that.”

  “The guy played the ponies, and you paid his debt. Why fool around with small-time stuff?”

  “He wasn’t small-time. How did you find out he was operating?”

  I gave him a roar, and he shrank into his chair. “Answer my questions, or should I turn you over to the city cops and have them stick you under the lights? A slimy little guy like you would shrivel up like a prune before they got through the first question. Now tell me, where’d Griggs get the dough?”

  “He borrowed it.”

  “From Whitetip. How much did Griggs drop to you?”

  “A few grand but good luck proving it. I don’t keep records.” The attempt to look smug failed as his skin grew shiny.

  “So, you killed him?”

  “I gave him the dough to pay his debt. The guy was ready to take a dive off a bridge.”

  The explanation sounded insane. “How very noble of you.”

  “Well excuse me for being a sucker. I should have kicked him out on his ear. Wish I had.”

  “Where were you when Griggs died?”

  “Here. I’m always here.”

  “And your thugs? The pig and the coyote?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Those two went after Carl Lachlan, and he tried shaking them off on me. Later, he winds up dead. Those two weren’t working on their own.”

  “Lachlan.” Greely looked confused, but I wasn’t buying.

  “Don’t try and mess with me. You know damn well Lachlan and Griggs were partners.”

  “Okay, okay. Lachlan got drunk and started shooting his mouth off about the game being crooked. It was enough, so that people stopped betting. Knuckles and him got into it. The pig has a short fuse.”

  “So, Knuckles killed him?”

  “No. I don’t get into the rough stuff. I don’t go for that.”

  “Aren’t you a softy?” I poked him in the stomach, and it felt like poking cold wet gelatin. Sal’s eyes bugged out, and he looked like he was going to hurl. “Where’s Knuckles and his pal? And don’t give me a line that you don’t know.”

  “Rizzo’s Restaurant, they got rooms above the place.”

  “And their names?”

  “Knuckles�
�� Toby Hues and Allen Scragg.”

  Keeping an eye on Greenly, I looked up the name Toby Hues and called the number. When no one answered, I called the restaurant. The manager said Toby and his buddy were gone and good riddance. The pair packed their bags and left in a cab after they paid up.

  I hung up the phone and turned back to Greenly. “Looks like they did a runner, Sal. Where did they go?”

  Greenly curled up into a ball and shrugged.

  “I got the feeling you’re going to die real soon, Sal.” Greenly’s eyes bugged out as I picked up his gun from the floor. As much as I wanted to shoot the guy, I resisted and removed the bullets from the cylinder before leaving the revolver on the side table and walked out.

  Back on the curb, I sat in my car smoking. If he was telling the truth, Sal Greenly was a strange character. Before I could start my car, Sal Greenly’s Packard came flying out of the driveway and roared down the street like a crazed maniac was behind the wheel. There was a good possibility that there was.

  I could have left, but curiosity got the better of me, and I got out of the car and went back to the end of the drive. Greenly’s front door was standing wide open. The salamander didn’t need such a big house. Just walking through it made that pretty obvious. All the rooms were decked out but unused. What didn’t have a dustcover over it was coated in dust, and only one bedroom with connecting bath looked used on the upper floors.

  The kitchen was a mess of dirty dishes and the pantry held enough food for an army. The fully stocked bar in the basement waited for guests that never came. Sal Greenly was one lonely salamander. Also, in the basement was a darkroom, now mothballed. Processing chemicals, film plates, and the gummy remains of tubes of retouching paints filled the shelves.

  I left the place just like I found it along with the door open and climbed back into my car. Something at the back of my mind scratched to get attention but refused to come into the forefront as I drove to Manhattan.

  What I really needed was to sleep, but the siren song that was Leslie Haze had me driving along Riverside Drive all the way to her place.

  “You’re late,” said Leslie when she answered the door.

  “Sorry.”

  She took the hat from my hand and placed both it and my coat into the closet before leading me into the apartment. The green dress she wore complimented her fur. “I was hoping you’d be here for dinner.”

  “I wish I had been. You’re awful nice to look at.”

  “Only half?”

  The swelling had gone down where she’d been struck.

  “All of you.”

  Leslie handed me a drink, and we sat in the living room. We talked of pleasant things until the subject of the cub came up. Leslie was all for helping, but I told her the arrangements were already being made. She asked about the case, and I told her what I knew, which wasn’t much.

  “Being mad won’t help you think, Kaiser.”

  “Without the anger, it’s tough doing this job. Anger pushes you through. I don’t know anything about young, but when I saw Griggs crying, then saw him shot, I wanted to kill the bastard responsible. Griggs and Lachlan connect to Greenly. Greenly connects to Dean Taylor and Guy Marsh. But why and how?”

  “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.” Her mouth was warmer than it should have been. Her fur soft and body supple.

  CHAPTER 6

  About quarter past ten in the morning I was showered, trimmed, and halfway through breakfast when the phone rang. When I answered, the operator told me to hold while she connected me with Miami. Velvet’s husky voice was a pleasure to hear again. “Kaiser?”

  “Hello, honey. How’s everything?”

  “Fine, sort of. Our guy gave us the slip, but he left everything behind. The insurance investigator is making an inventory.”

  “Great. Maybe you can convince him to give you a bonus.”

  “Since he’s already made a pass, that shouldn’t be hard. Miss me, tiger?”

  I felt like a heel, but I wasn’t lying when I said, “Always.”

  “As a business partner or other?”

  “Both.”

  Velvet paused and asked, “How’s everything on your end.”

  “Fine, sort of. I’ve got the cub being looked after by the nurse downstairs, but his father’s killer is still on the loose.”

  “You never told me the full story. Are you sure everything is all right?”

  “I promise, I’ll tell you all about it when you get back.”

  “Well, hopefully I’ll be back soon. That elephant can only hide out in so many places. Unless he manages to hop a plane, we’ll catch him. The airport has already been notified to keep an eye open.”

  “Sounds like you have everything under control.”

  “And I’d better get back to it. Love me?”

  “You’ll never know.”

  Velvet laughed and hung up. She knew. Females always knew.

  I finished my breakfast and turned on the radio. The commentator talked about New York news. My ears perked up at the mention of the D.A., and his latest escapade to shut down the gambling problem. The success of last night’s raids had me wondering if they finally plugged the leak or if Taylor was throwing the peacock a bone.

  The tabloids had more information and not all of it good. Seems witnesses were unwilling to talk, and Taylor was having his lawyers defend the bookies. One journalist even accused Guy Marsh of convincing people to stay quiet.

  When I finished reading, I went downstairs to check on the cub. The nurse answered the door with a smile. “Hello, Mr. Wrench. Come in.”

  “I can only stay a minute. How’s little Danny doing?”

  “Aside from climbing over everything, he’s fine.”

  Climbing was an understatement. The little guy was up on the china cabinet. When he spotted me, he launched himself into the air straight at me. The cub hit me with the force of a bowling ball, and I dropped my hat in a panic that he might fall and hurt himself.

  “Felines love to climb, and so far, he’s been good at landing on his feet,” said the nurse.

  “You’ve been letting him climb on stuff?”

  “There’s no letting about it. The urge to climb is inbred in every cub, and it is a rare feline that can’t land on his feet.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re fine.”

  It took a whole ten minutes to get the cub’s claws detached from my person without leaving holes in my suit and get out the door. By the time I got to the station, it was the lunch shift, but Duke was still in his office and had just finished up talking to reporters.

  “Hello, Kaiser.”

  “I see you’re making headlines.”

  “They’ll change tomorrow and want us lynched.”

  “So, you haven’t found the leak?”

  “Nope. The officer we suspect knows he’s being investigated. That’s probably the only reason for the success last night. We’re still not sure how they’re doing it, but I doubt that they’ll stop.”

  “Is the D.A. calling for a full investigation?” I lit a cigarette and watched the fur on Duke puff up.

  “The peacock doesn’t know, and I’m not telling him. One, I don’t want to blacken the department’s eye. Two, we may be wrong, we’ve no proof, and I don’t want to smear the guy if we are.”

  “So, how’d the raid go? I’m guessing Taylor is reminding the guys he pays for protection that if he goes, they go.”

  Duke looked at me for a second. “What?”

  “I’m just saying that if Taylor is using more than thugs like Guy Marsh to keep everyone in line, say like money to certain politicians and such, he may not like them getting too greedy.”

  “That would explain a few things. Do you realize we have absolutely nothing on that horned lizard? The only thing we have on Dean Taylor is suspicions.”

  “What about Lachlan and Griggs? Have you been able to look into them?”

  “A little.” Duke nodded
and grabbed a cigarette. “Lachlan started making weekly payments in to his bank account of a thousand dollars. It lines up with playing the ponies.”

  “And Griggs?”

  “Clean.”

  The silence in Duke’s office got thick before he asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “That you might be closer to Taylor than you realize. What if Griggs’ killer can lead you to Taylor? Those deposits in Lachlan’s account weren’t wins, he was paid for something.”

  Duke’s ears flattened, and he growled. “Will you stop talking in riddles?”

  “Can’t, I still don’t have the full picture. But I’ve got a feeling that working Griggs case will lead you to something on Taylor.”

  The German shepherd’s ears wiggled back and forth before his tail started to wag. “What’s it about, Kaiser?”

  “The Griggs murder got away from someone and caused a nice clean kill to turn into a hornet’s nest, and that someone is trying hard not to get stung.”

  “You’re not going to explain, are you?”

  “No, but could you get me information on Toby Hues and Allen Scragg? That’s the names of the two investigators I was trying to find. Toby is Knuckles.”

  Duke gave me one of his looks and hit the button of the intercom on his desk. “Have Sergeant Quigley come into my office.” While we waited Duke thumbed through a cabinet and pulled out a thick file which he tossed in my lap.

  Quigley turned out to be an Australian Kelpie. Duke did the introductions and asked what Quigley knew about Hues and Scragg.

  “They’re thugs, plain and simple. Scragg lost his license last month. The only reason they even have a license was because someone with pull gave them one. Neither have records, but that’s only because witnesses won’t talk. Would you like me to put a call out for them?”

  “Not a bad idea,” I said and flipped through the file. “But they skipped town last night. Put them on the teletype and alert the railroad detectives. Those two will be traveling.”

  Duke nodded. “Do as he suggests, sergeant.”