Chance Elson

by Ballard, Todhunter, 1903-1980

  "Yeah."

  "And if you think they're scared, what about the gamblers here in town? A gambler doesn't want trouble. He can't afford trouble and he knows it. He buys protection when he can; he'll give a piece of his business before he sees it closed."

  "That makes sense."

  "So it has to get around that I'm as tough as any gutter rat from the East Side of New York. I've got to make these people believe that by follovdng me they can keep the gangsters out."

  Doc drew a long breath. "I don't like any of this, but maybe we're worrying about something we don't need to worry about. Maybe they won't come in."

  "They'll come," said Chance. "All I hope is that I'm ready for them, because I'm going to take control of this town and

  keep it. I don't want any part of another man's business but I do want the biggest, swankiest place here. I'm going to run this section of Nevada."

  Doc said slowly, "There's one thing you'd better remember. This power you're reaching for can be a dangerous thing, and maybe while you're reaching you'll turn into something as bad as the men you're talking about fighting. You want success—that's all you want now. You're trying to prove to yourself that you're as smart as anyone in the world. Success can be a kind of empty thing if it's all you have."

  "What else is there?"

  "Well, love for one thing, a family, a home . . ."

  Chance laughed, suddenly. "Of all the people in the world to give me a pitch like this."

  Doc's smile was wry. "All right, so I'm a bum. No one ever denied it, certainly not I. But you're different. You know why you want to be top dog? Because you got kicked all around as a kid. You're looking for security and the only thing that represents security to you is to have the biggest and the best. Well, that's fine. You want it, I don't. AU I want is freedom, but you don't understand that. You have to be owned by something, and a man who has to be owned should have a wife and kids. Now, wiU you do me just one favor? I don't ask many."

  "Whatr

  "Get in the car. Go out home." He saw Chance's jaw set and hurried on. "Tell Judy you didn't mean what you said to her down here. Tell her you're as excited as hell about her being in the play. Take her out to dinner and then to the picture show. Do you know, you've never taken her one place in your lifer

  Chance looked bewildered. "What is this?"

  "For Christ sake, relax, be human for one night. Or if you can't be human, pretend that you are. Go on, get out of here."

  Chance went. He felt hke a fool, driving into the yard. He crossed the porch quietly and pushed open the front door. Joe and Judy were in the kitchen. They heard the door and came into the front room to see who it was.

  Joe stared at him, "You sick or did the joint bum down?** 125

  Chance laughed. "Neither. Get me a drink, Joe.** Joe v/ent to get the ice. Judy started out, her face sullen. She hadn't spoken.

  He sat down. "Come over here, I want to talk to you."

  She came slowly, unwillingly. He reached up, took her hand and pulled her down on the arm of his chair. "Doc was right, kid. I was upset when you came in this afternoon. I guess I kind of blew my top. I didn t mean any of it. I think it's swell about the play."

  She looked at him as if she did not quite believe what she heard. Suddenly her face broke up and she was crying. She leaned over and buried her nose in his shoulder. The convulsive sobs shook her. Joe appeared in the doorway.

  "Scram," said Chance. "Go out, feed the chickens."

  Joe looked blank, but after a minute he left. Chance slipped his other arm around the girl, holding her tightly.

  "It's okay, honey. You ought to know me well enough by now to know that my bark doesn't mean too much."

  She was trying to stop crying but could not yet manage it.

  Chance was at a loss. He did not know what to do with a crying girl, and it wasn't like Judy to bawl.

  "Tell me about the play. Is it a good one?"

  She nodded.

  "What kind of costume?"

  "Just a dress. It's—it's modem."

  "Okay, so you can buy any kind of a dress you like."

  "Can I?"

  "Sure, any kind you want."

  "Will—will you come to see me act?"

  "Of course I'll come to see you act. Now, I'll teU you what we'll do. We're going to celebrate, see. You go wash your face and comb your hair and then you and I will go into town, get a bite to eat and then see the picture show. Okay?"

  "Okay." She slid from her perch and disappeared into her room.

  They ate at a small sandwich stand near the south edge of town. Chance did not care where they ate and Judy was too happy at the moment to be concerned with food. Chance had never seen her so animated. He could not help remembering

  what Doc had said. She'd come a long way since the night he'd picked her up.

  He thought, "She's darn good looking. Another couple of years and she'll be tops. No wonder Doc watches her. She isn't a child any more. She's close to being a woman."

  When they started out of the place she said, "Let's skip the picture."

  "How come?"

  "Let's ride down to the dam."

  They rode out across the desert. The moon was nearly full and the rolling brushland around them had a silver-gray overtone above the deeper shadows.

  On the observation point above one of the overflow basins. Chance parked the car and they walked forward to lean on the stone fence and peer down at the lake, twisting away from them as it followed the curve of the rugged canyon.

  "It's pretty." Judy was talking almost to herself. "It's beautiful. I don't think there's anything prettier anywhere."

  Chance did not answer. She turned to him, abruptly, her face tilted as she looked up at him. "Kiss me, will you?"

  "What?"

  "Kiss me."

  He stooped and touched her hps. Her two arms were around his neck and her body strained against him.

  "Hey," he said, "hey, take it easy." But he kissed her again nonetheless.

  He was thinking about that kiss six weeks later as he sat in the auditorium watching the school play. It was not better or worse than the average amateur performance, but Chance was no judge. He had only seen two plays in his whole life. Doc had dragged him to those during a New York stay between boats.

  Doc wasn't with him tonight. Doc and Dutch had matched to see which would stay and work, and Dutch for once had won.

  "Jeese," said Dutch. "She's okay, huh?" It was at the end of the second act. "Beside her the rest of those kids shape up as slobs."

  That, Chance thought, was a typical reaction from Dutch. 127

  After it was over there were photographs and handshaking and congratulations. Then Chance shepherded the cast back to the restaurant. He had had the arch between the dining room and the gambHng tables closed and the restaurant was turned over to the kids.

  He didn't stay. He felt very out of place. He went back to his office and waited there for the party to break up. When it did, Judy came in, rather shyly.

  "Everything okay?"

  "It was swell," she said. She came around the desk and kissed his cheek. There was none of the fire she had shown on the night at the dam. She seemed strangely subdued. It was almost as if she had suddenly grown up. "I know for sure what I want to do now," she told him. "I want to be an actress."

  ^^^zfiien. 9

  Doc HAD NO WARNING. It had Started as an ordinary day. For six months now the restaurant business had been creeping gradually higher, and while they were not getting rich they had made enough to keep up Hombone's payments and cut their bank loan to eighteen thousand.

  Doc was at the door, welcoming the customers. He had just turned away for a moment to glance at the room. When he turned back, Celhni was coming through the door.

  There was no question that Cellini was surprised to see Doc. He stopped, and the man behind him almost ran into him. Then, slowly, Cellini came on in, stopping before Doc, looking him up and down.

  "What are you d
oing in Vegas?"

  Doc thought, "I don't have to ask. I know what he's doing here. There isn't any doubt. Here comes the Syndicate."

  "This is our place," he said. His tone was cool, calm. "Table for one?"

  "For two," said Cellini. "Meet Benji Danzig." 128

  Doc turned to the slender man beside Cellini and this time he could not keep the surprise out of his voice. "Why, how are you?"

  "Fair," said Danzig. His dark eyes ranged around the room. "Quite a place you got. I been hearing about it."

  Cellini was also looking, his eyes stopping for a moment as he saw Dutch in the cashier's cage. "Elson here?"

  "In the office."

  "Fd like to see him."

  "He won't Hke to see you," Doc thought, but he said, "I'll have a table for you in a few minutes," and watched as they moved on back through the room, their eyes missing nothing. Casing the joint, he thought bitterly, as if they meant to buy it.

  But they would not buy. Benji Danzig never bought anything. He simply muscled in.

  Doc gave them the next empty table. He wanted them out of the place as soon as possible. He motioned a floorman to relieve him at the door and moved quickly back toward Chance's office.

  "Friend of yours out front."

  Chance pushed back from the desk as Doc came in. "Who?"

  "Ralph Cellini, and he's not alone. Benji Danzig's with him. You know who he is?"

  "Murder, Incorporated?"

  Doc nodded.

  "Where are they?"

  "In the dining room."

  Chance stood up.

  "Want me with you?"

  "No. Get your lunch." Chance left the office.

  The headwaiter saw him, came forward. Doc had primed him. "Over by the far window."

  Chance had already spotted Cellini. The man was a httle heavier than he had been in Cleveland, and he had a horseshoe scar on his left cheek which had not been there before. Chance guessed it had been left by Joe's heavy ring.

  He shifted his attention to Danzig. The man's appearance

  surprised him. In repose the face was pleasant. He might have been a well-dressed salesman, a chamber of commerce representative. There was nothing sinister about him. Until you saw his eyes.

  Chance halted beside the table. They both looked up and he saw Danzig's eyes film a Httle. Cellini was putting on an act, trying to sound as if they were old friends.

  "Chance, this is swell. It's been a long time." He stood up, extending a hand. Chance ignored it. "You must be Danzig." He puUed out a chair and sat down.

  Danzig said, "That's right." They eyed each other. Each recognized at once the strength of the other, the danger. The meeting could explode at any moment.

  Cellini settled very slowly into his chair. A waiter came up uncertainly. Every worker and special officer had been warned. Danzig's name was almost as well known as that of Capone.

  "You want something, Mr. Elson?"

  "Coffee," said Chance, not taking his eyes from Danzig. He knew a desire to reach across the table, to seize the gangster by his throat and shake the Hfe out of him. But he also knew fear. He was afraid, but not for himself. He was afraid of what these men could do to the town, to the business he was building, to the state with which he had associated himself. "Nice place." Danzig's voice was idle. "Well run." Chance nodded. He wondered how the tourists at the tables would react if they realized that they were sitting in the same room with a noted killer.

  Yes, it was a nice place, but Danzig hadn't come over from the Coast to tell him this. "We like it, the way it is."

  Cellini laughed. The sound was too loud in the hush of the room. Chance considered inviting them back to his office. But he did not want to do anything which might suggest to them that he was afraid. He thought that the one thing in the world Danzig might respect was strength.

  On Danzig's side, he was watching Chance with care. Cellini had told him the Cleveland story after they had been seated at the table. Benji Danzig was no fool. He had other talents than his proneness to pull a trigger.

  He was to organize the Coast, but he was to lay ofiF actual rough stuff as much as possible. The big boys back East did not want the pubUcity that went with killings.

  It was bad luck to find Elson in Vegas, but maybe he had learned something in Cleveland. Maybe he had learned he couldn't fight the Syndicate.

  Danzig said, "I don't blame you, but things change, Elson. We all gotta go along with change."

  "Like what?"

  "Like a lot of the boys around town having trouble with their wire service. They sent word it ain't refiable any more."

  "We've had no trouble." Chance's eyes did not leave Danzig's face. The cold blue stare made Danzig a fittle uncomfortable. He was not accustomed to his victims acting like this.

  "You will have." He said it softly, no threat in his tone. "Use Trans-World, or you don't get serviced."

  "And what will Trans-World cost me?"

  Danzig debated. Some of the boys were paying him as high as fifty per cent of their take. It scaled down, depending on the size of the place, the power of the operator.

  "Won't cost you a dime. Just a percentage. Say twenty-five."

  "No."

  The waiter brought Chance's coffee to the table. None of them noticed.

  Cellini said, "Benji's being real reasonable."

  "Keep out of this. I talk to the chief rat."

  Red crept up to stain Danzig's olive cheeks but he gave no other sign and his voice stayed soft. "You use our service or you don't run a book."

  Chance leaned forward. "You've talked. Now let me teU you. This is Nevada. The men running clubs here are Hcensed by the state. Their business is legitimate. They have no payoffs to crooked cops, and they don't pay off to hoodlums. I don't think you understand things over here, but you'll find out. Now, finish your lunch and get out, and don't come back. The next time you don't get in."

  He rose to his feet. He felt as ff he were going to burst. He 131

  turned on his heel and walked back toward his oflBce. Cellini started to call after him. Danzig put a hand on his arm.

  "Forget it. We'll take care of him, later, after we know where we stand." He sat quiet then, finishing his lunch. When he asked for the check, the waiter told him it had been taken care of. Danzig raised his eyebrows. Then he tipped the waiter with a ten-dollar bill and went inconspicuously from the restaurant.

  Doc waited in the oflBce until Chance returned. "What's he say?"

  "That Universal Service is through. That the others are signing up with Trans-World and that we could have it for twenty-five per cent of the book's take. I told him no dice."

  Doc sat down. "So it's come."

  Chance poured a glass of water and drank it deliberately. Whenever he was worked up, whenever the inner pressure threatened to break, he found that cold water stilled the turmoil. "We knew it would happen, sooner or later. I didn't expect it this fast."

  "So what do we do?"

  "I want you to circulate among the other clubs. You know most of the owners better than I do. Find out how many have signed up with Danzig."

  "I can tell you now, most of them. They don't want trouble here and they figure the best way is to buy him off."

  "That's where they are wrong. Let that dope-peddling mm:-derer get his foot in the door and tomorrow he'll be naming the governor of the state. He's got big ideas and they'll keep getting bigger. Go on, talk to them."

  Doc went. He did not come back until nearly midnight and he was far from happy.

  "What did you find out?"

  "Not too much. Most of them are afraid to talk, but Trans-World is in and Universal out. It took the son of a bitch just two days to organize the place."

  Chance reached for the phone. "I want to talk to John Kern," he said. "Try his Carson City hotel first. They can tell you where he is, probably. Call me when you get him." He hung up.

  Doc said, "What are you going to do?"

  Chance drummed on the desk. "Get ho
ld of a couple of the janitors and start them tearing out the blackboard. We're taking out the book."

  Doc was horrified. "You need a book. When the other places have one, you need it to compete. It brings in trade and . . ."

  "The others may need it. We don't. We've got the restaurant."

  He stood up. "When Kern calls back, tell him to come down to the ranch tomorrow evening."

  "Look," said Doc. "I'm not a scarehead, but this Danzig has gunned a lot of men. I don't want to find you full of holes."

  "He won't try anything like that here, at least not yet. He hasn't got things set and he's too smart to hunt that kind of trouble until he does."

  Doc wasn't convinced, but he knew it was fruitless to argue. Chance went out and crossed Fremont. The street was day-bright, gaudy beneath the big neon signs flashing their message to the world. He went into three clubs, cornering the owners in their offices.

  He wasted no words and did not beat around the bush. "We're all in the same boat," he argued. "If we knuckle under now, we might as well turn our keys over to the Syndicate."

  One after another the expressions on their faces were the same, the words almost the same. "Just think about it," he said. He did not want to push them too fast. "I'm throwing out the horse book. If we all did that, Danzig couldn't come in. His wire service is where he gets his power."

  He could see them teasing the idea in their heads, but it was too revolutionary for them to accept all in the moment.

  When he got back to the club, Kern had called. Kern would be at the ranch at eleven o'clock the following night.

  Judy overheard Chance talking to Kem. She knew that Chance was worried. She had heard him talking to Doc and Dutch that morning. The name Danzig she did not associate with anything, but when Cellini was mentioned, she remembered Cleveland.

  John Kern had driven down, coming directly to the ranch without going near the town. At the moment, he did not want anyone in Vegas to know he was in the southern part of the state.

  He hstened anxiously while Chance told him of the Syndicate's move. Then he drew a long, unhappy breath. "We've been watching Danzig. The California Crime Commission has kept an eye on him, and we get reports regularly from the Chicago commission. He was bound to hit Vegas sooner or later, to try and organize it."