by J. T. Edson
Leaving Brad to deal with the formalities of booking Vellan into the cells on the fifth floor of the building, Alice went to report to McCall. The First Deputy gave his approval of the way they had handled Vellan; a thing which he would not have done if he believed that they had intended to carry their threats of false arrest and ill-treatment. Knowing much about the mentality of criminals, McCall appreciated how his deputies had made use of it to bring Vellan into a co-operative frame of mind and obtain his permission to make the search without waiting to collect a warrant authorizing them to do so.
Returning to her desk, Alice started to go through the various items of official information which had accumulated in her absence.
Selecting the subject she liked least, she started to read about the M.E.’s findings. In addition to the formal necropsy report, the medical examiners’ department had sent a shorter message written in terms an untrained deputy might understand. It said that the time of death in each case had been between five and eight in the morning, the cause, gun-shot wounds. In Morgan’s case, the bullet in the head had caused instantaneous death. Hagmeyer had lingered for perhaps a minute before dying. Making a wry face, Alice went on to read the necropsy report, which went into greater detail about the extent of the wounds. Then she laid the M.E.’s contribution aside.
Picking up the report from the Firearms Investigation Laboratory, she read Lieutenant Jed Cornelius’ comments. As far as could be ascertained from the battered condition of the bullets, they were jacketed .30 Luger caliber. Examination of the cases had proved that they had been fired at the approximate times of the killings and ejected from an automatic pistol, ruling out the possibility that they had been left behind deliberately to mislead the investigating officers as to the type of weapon involved. In Cornelius’ opinion, the jackets had been cut down beyond the level of mere soft-points, creating even more lethal dumdums for increased effect. Whoever had killed the two men must have wanted to have them dead badly to go to such extremes.
The rest of the pile proved less extensive and added nothing to her knowledge of the case. Buck Shields had called to say that his deputies could not find anybody who had seen strangers around the Morgan place, but that the inquiries would continue. According to the Firearms Registry, there were no permits issued in the county for .30 Lugers. They warned that there might be unregistered guns of that type around, a point which Alice was aware of without needing reminding. R. and I. had no make on Vellan and wanted to know if the deputies needed more extensive inquiries making. Alice decided to hold off asking for them until she had checked out his alibi. None of the larger organizations had sent answers to the queries, but she considered it too early to expect any.
With the reports read, she called the Gusher City Mirror. As a matter of routine, she confirmed that the reporter, Crossman, had attempted to interview Hagmeyer and evaded making any comment on the two killings. While finishing the call, she saw Larsen and Valenca enter the squad room. From their expressions, she knew the answer even without asking conventionally how their inquiries had gone.
‘It could be worse,’ Valenca answered. ‘We’ve got some old dame who swears she saw a prowler.’
‘Did you get a description?’ Alice asked hopefully.
‘Naw,’ Larsen grunted. ‘She reckons she Only saw his face. We had her fetched in and she’s working with one of the artists on a picture of what she saw.’
‘Let’s hope she comes up with something,’ Alice said fervently. ‘Buck’s crew can’t.’
‘Or us,’ Valenca admitted. ‘We’ve talked to newsboys, milkmen, harness bulls, even a couple of vagrants the upper classes picked up last night. None of them saw anything.’
‘It’s almost as if we’re looking for an invisible man,’ Alice sighed, knowing that harness bulls were patrolmen and that members of the Upton Heights Division of the G.C.P.D. were derisively known as ‘the upper class’.
‘With a silent gun,’ Larsen went on. ‘Nobody’s heard the shots, or if they did, didn’t tip to them being shots. What’ve you pair been doing—if anything?’
‘We picked up a hired gun and are on our way to check his alibi when Brad gets back,’ Alice answered. ‘And that crack just broke our engagements—both of them.’ The telephone by her hand interrupted further comments and she raised the receiver. ‘Woman Deputy Fayde speaking.’
‘Miss Fayde,’ said the voice on the other end of the line. It was cool, polite and sounded well-educated. ‘Please don’t waste time trying to trace this call, it’s coming from out of town. On the hypothetical subject you recently mentioned, my organization is not in active competition with any other. You may be sure of our co-operation in clearing the matter up.’
The line went dead.
‘Who was that?’ Larsen asked as Alice hung up.
‘Somebody from the combine, telling me they’re not at war. If it’s not a combine killing, what is the motive?’
‘Two separate motives, but both using the same hired gun for the contract,’ the big Swede suggested.
‘Vellan, the guy we picked up, says the Syndicate doesn’t have the contract,’ Alice replied, ‘but they don’t have a monopoly on killing by hire. I—’
Brad’s arrival ended her words. Grossing to their desk, he dropped a key with a plastic tag attached to it before Alice. She took it up, recognizing it as the type used on the airport’s left-luggage lockers even before she read the name and number on the tag.
‘It was in Vellan’s pocket,’ Brad told Alice. ‘I felt it at the hotel, but left it. He looked a mite worried when it came out upstairs. So I brought it with me. I thought we could check it out along with his alibi.’
‘We’ll do that,’ Alice agreed.
‘Did this guy say what he’s doing here?’ Valenca asked. ‘Claims to be on vacation,’ Brad replied. ‘He’d had no visitors or phone calls at the hotel, so it could be true.’
At the wheel of Unit SO 12, Alice directed them to The Street; the city’s main shopping and entertainment center. As she brought the Oldsmobile to a halt in the parking lot of a luxury cinema, Brad picked up the transmission microphone and made a ‘Code Four’ call which informed Central Control that the team would be unavailable while making an investigation. If he had said ‘Code Six Adam’, the dispatcher would have known that assistance might be required.
Walking along The Street, they had to pass the Queen of Clubs and looked at boards advertising the attractions of the city’s most expensive night-spot.
‘Zippy Sharon’s still on,’ Brad remarked, just a touch too casually to Alice’s way of thinking, indicating the photographs of an exceptionally well-developed blonde in an erotic costume. Then he turned his eyes to the other side of the board. ‘Say, they’ve got Virgil Grayne back again. Have you seen his act?’
‘A couple of times,’ Alice admitted. ‘He’s good, but it won’t work.’
‘What won’t?’ Brad asked innocently.
‘You’re not going to take me to see him so that you can bulge your eyes out at her. It’s not fair, he wears more clothes than she does.’
‘Virg Grayne doesn’t need to take his clothes off to get folks in to see his act. And you’re starting to sound like a wife, boss lady.’
‘Which means I can read your mind, is all,’ Alice smiled. ‘It’s down this way, Brad.’
At first the bartender at the Diamondback, a small bar in a side alley off The Street, seemed inclined to be evasive.
He was a big, bulky man with the broken-nosed face of a boxer and looked ill-at-ease in his dress shirt, black bow tie and white mess jacket of military cut.
‘Louise?’ he said, eyeing the two deputies’ id. wallets warily. ‘Naw, I don’t know no dame of that name.’
‘Think again, ’Alice ordered. ‘A 522 [xiv] rap would close this place tighter than a drum.’
‘If that wop son-of-a-bitch says—! ’ the bartender blazed, but stopped just a shade too late.
‘We didn’t mention an Italian,’ Alic
e pointed out.
‘Listen,’ the man muttered. ‘So a guy asks me if I know anybody who’d like to take in a show with him. Is it a crime to point out a lonely gal who would?’
‘Her address, hombre,’ Brad demanded. ‘Maybe we couldn’t make the 522 hold, but you’ll be closed until it’s settled and watched careful after that.’
‘She goes to the La Paloma mostly—so I’ve heard.’
‘Will she be there now?’ Brad said.
‘Naw. She’ll be home.’
‘And where’s “home”?’ asked Alice.
‘41 Delgado Street,’ the bartender answered.
‘Thanks,’ Alice said. ‘You should watch your good nature, hombre. It could land you in trouble.’
‘How’s that?’ the man asked.
‘Don’t “introduce” your customers to each other,’ Alice warned. ‘V. and G. [xv] might not be as understanding about it as we are.’
‘If I don’t see you some more—good,’ growled the bartender as the deputies turned away. They swung around and he went on, ‘Hey! No hard feelings. It’s one I got from Virg Grayne’s act.’
‘It sounds more like early Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In, Alice sniffed and accompanied her partner to the door.
‘Do we tell the bluenoses about this drum?’ Brad inquired as they returned to The Street.
‘We’ll mention it,’ Alice replied. ‘Most likely they’ll, know what goes on. But what should they do, padlock it? The hookers would only be put into another place and V. and G.’ll have to find out where they’re at.’
‘There’s that,’ Brad admitted.
‘I sometimes think that the bluenoses have the worst job of all,’ Alice went on. ‘The public hate them and think all they do is interfere with innocent, harmless pleasures. Lord, some of them should work with V. and G. for a spell. They’d soon learn how innocent or harmless some of their “pleasures” can be.’
‘Easy there, boss lady,’ Brad said, taking her arm and squeezing it gently. ‘I reckon you need a night at the Queen of Clubs. Then when we get home, you can give me hell for ogling at Zippy Sharon instead of you; and we’ll feel like normal people again.’
‘Does any peace officer ever feel like normal people, Brad?’ Alice sighed.
‘If we didn’t,’ the big blond replied, ‘we’d never become peace officers in the first place.’
Once she started Unit SO 12 moving, Alice became her usual cheerful, competent self. With her knowledge of the city’s geography, she selected the shortest route to their destination. They were approaching the intersection which formed the start of Delgado Street when Brad saw a pretty, stylishly-dressed brunette signaling to them.
‘Are you looking for me?’ the woman asked as Alice brought the Oldsmobile to a halt at the edge of the sidewalk. ‘I’m Louise Quitty. Stan from the Diamond-back called to say you were coming and I took a chance on you coming this way.’
‘Shall we go to your house and talk, Mrs. Quitty?’ Alice suggested, guessing what the answer would be.
‘No!’ the woman replied hastily. ‘That’s why I came to meet you. If—
‘Your husband—?’ Alice prompted.
‘He’d kill me if he knew—!’
‘Get in the back,’ Alice ordered and Louise obeyed with alacrity. ‘Where did you spend last night and the night before?’
‘If that wop bastard told you, you know the answer.’
‘Try telling us,’ Brad said.
‘I was at the La Paloma both nights,’ the brunette obliged sulkily. ‘We got there at midnight and left at around seven thirty in the morning.’
‘He never left you in the night?’ Alice asked.
‘No! Why should he leave me? I’m a good lay; or so I’ve been told.’
‘You’re sure he didn’t leave you?’ Alice insisted. ‘If he did, it was for a wash job, a murder, each time, Mrs. Quitty.’
‘So help me God, he never left!’ Louise yelped. ‘I don’t know what he did after, but he was with me all night. The desk clerk saw us leaving yesterday, and this morning.’
‘We’ll see how good his memory is,’ Alice stated. ‘Are you telling us the truth, Mrs. Quitty?’
‘You can bet your sweet bippy I am,’ the woman answered, with a weak attempt at nonchalance.
‘You’d just better be,’ Alice warned grimly. The woman’s marital status offered an opening which the deputies could make use of and Alice intended to do so. ‘Because if you’re not, we’ll be back. Only this time there’ll be no meeting us in the street for a cozy chat. We’ll come straight to your home and make damned sure we arrive when your husband’s there.’ From the horror displayed by Louise, the deputies knew that the threat was striking with its full impact. When she continued to stick to her story, they felt sure that she was telling the truth.
‘Did Vellan tell you why he was here?’ Brad inquired, figuring that the man could not have resisted the chance to grandstand in a woman’s company.
‘N—Yes. He claimed to be a big-shot with the New York Syndicate, here to fix a deal with a Mexican mob. That’s what he said. He didn’t tell me what kind of a deal—and I didn’t ask.’
‘You showed good sense,’ Alice told her. ‘Thanks for your help.’
‘Yeah, I kn—’ Louise began, then her mouth trailed open and she gasped, ‘Somebody’s sure to have seen me talking to you. What’ll I tell my husband?’
If Alice had been the hard, tough, uncompromising peace officer circumstances frequently forced her to act, she would have felt little concern for what the woman told her husband. Brad knew she was anything but that ,and waited expectantly for her to solve Louise Quitty’s problem. Nor was he disappointed.
‘If he asks, or even if he doesn’t, tell him that you recognized me as an old school friend, waved and I stopped to talk over old times.’
‘That ought to do it,’ Brad enthused.
‘What if he calls you?’ Louise wanted to know.
‘My name’s Alice Fayde, I’m with the Sheriff’s Office. Tell me what school you went to and, if he calls, I’ll not make a liar of you.’
‘I went to Evans Hill High—’
‘That helps, so did I.’
‘I-I—Thanks, deputy,’ Louise gasped. ‘And I’ve told you the truth. Dino never left me either night. Hey! What’ll he do when he hears I’ve talked to you?’
‘Be grateful to you,’ Brad guessed. ‘Only he’ll be leaving town before he gets a chance to tell you about it.’
‘I—I—!’ Louise began, fighting back tears. ‘Thanks, deputy.’
‘Take hold of yourself and get going!’ Alice ordered gruffly.
Letting Louise alight, Alice started the car moving. She watched in the driving mirror until a curve in the road hid the woman from sight. Reaching across, Brad pressed Alice’s right hand lightly and he smiled at her.
‘You had to be like normal people to handle her as easy as you did, Alice. If you weren’t, you’d have said the hell with her and left her to get out from under any way she could.’
‘She’s a damned fool! ’ Alice snorted. ‘Sooner or later her husband will find out she’s cheating on him.’
‘Do we check out the La Paloma?’
‘We check it. Even though we figure that she told us the truth. That’s being a peace officer.’
‘That’s showing good sense, and you know it,’ Brad corrected, wondering what had got into his partner. Then he realized and grinned, ‘It won’t be much use me coming home with you tonight, will it?’
‘I thought you’d never guess,’ Alice sighed. ‘I’ll have to pay a call while you talk to the night clerk.’
At the La Paloma Hotel, Brad spoke with the house-detective and learned that the night clerk would not be on duty until eleven o’clock. Obtaining the clerk’s telephone number, Brad called him and he confirmed Louise’s story. More than that, he explained how several clients had recently left without paying for their rooms, so the management insisted that the desk be manned al
l night. Questioned on the matter, the house-detective agreed and explained that only the front entrance was left open at night. Provided they were telling the truth, there was no way Vellan could have left the hotel and returned undetected.
‘Which clears him,’ Alice said when informed of the discovery. ‘Or’s a part of a careful alibi.’
‘Have I time for a cup of tea before we go to the airport?’ Brad asked. ‘I’ll get it on the phone if I can.’
One of Brad’s most capable stool-pigeons owned a small bar and grill called YE OLDE ENGLISHE TEA SHOPPE, although nobody ever ordered tea in it. Using the hotel’s booth, the big blond dialed, paid and soon heard English Herb’s strident cockney tones. Why an English criminal had settled to a comparatively honest life in Texas, or become an informer, Brad had never asked. What he did know was that there were few better-informed men in the city.
‘Vellan told Mrs. Quitty almost the truth,’ Brad said as he rejoined Alice, who had returned from making her ‘call’. ‘He’s not a big-shot, but just a messenger-boy between the New York Syndicate and some Mexican outfit. Nobody knows what the meeting’s about, but it’s reckoned to be something pretty big.’
‘In that case, Vellan wouldn’t be taking any outside contracts,’ Alice decided. ‘Much as I hate to say it, he’s clean as far as our case’s concerned.’
‘Maybe this baggage-locker key’ll tell us what the meeting’s about,’ Brad remarked, patting his jacket’s inside pocket.
The hope did not materialize. Driving to the Gusher City Civic Airport, they located and opened the locker. Inside they found a brief case and opened it. While the contents were interesting, they did nothing to help the peace officers. The brief case held a three-inch barreled Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum revolver in a shoulder holster and a box of ammunition. Going by its clean and slightly-oiled condition, the revolver had not been used recently and could not have fired the bullets found at the two killings.