by J. T. Edson
‘Did his wife care about his chasing?’ Alice asked.
‘If she was human, she would,’ the comedian replied. ‘The scuttle-butt has it that they were both cheating on each other, but I wouldn’t know how true that is.’
‘Do you know anybody who’d want to kill him?’
‘Anybody with loyalty to this country, Alice. Folks who’ve lost sons in Vietnam, or Korea. But I don’t think any of them would. He’s got enemies in show-biz and even among his own set. Me. I hated his guts, but not enough to kill him or hire it done.’
‘Neither of us thought you had,’ Alice stated and Brad nodded his agreement.
‘If this was a television show, it’d have to be me,’ Grayne said. ‘A white Southern-born war hero, you’d know it was me from the start.’
‘Have you noticed that, too?’ Alice inquired in a mock surprised voice.
‘An English cop who was over here on a good-will tour told me that all the bad guys on their television shows have either been to what they call public schools, or are ex-servicemen,’ Brad went on. ‘Is somebody trying to tell us something, do you reckon?’
‘They do say all the intellectuals have messages for us,’ Grayne admitted. ‘Look, if you’re through, I have to go get ready for my next show. If you want to stay on—’
‘We’d love to,’ Alice assured him. ‘But I don’t reckon the Watch Commander would go for it on the tax-payers’ time. Thanks for the meal, Virg. I enjoyed the show—Well, most of it.’
‘I enjoyed it all,’ Brad commented, but he made the damning confession to himself. Audibly he said, Thanks, Virg. You’ve bribed us into thinking you’re innocent.’
‘And I can deduct it as an expense from my taxes, top,’ the comedian replied. ‘If I can learn anything about Hagmeyer, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks,’ Alice said. ‘We’d better have the name of the girl he was writing to.’
‘Vinnie Lefarge,’ Grayne answered. ‘Or something like that. Phin Hagen’s boy Jack told me about her.’
Calling the Hagen house, on the club manager’s telephone, Alice learned the girl’s address. The knowledge did her no good. On visiting the house, the deputies found it empty. A neighbor said that the family had left for a vacation with kinfolk in Arizona four days before and would not be back for at least another week.
Eleven
None of the three Night Watch teams present in the Squad room expressed any surprise at seeing Alice and Brad arrive. Maybe the watches changed at four in the afternoon, but deputies following a line of inquiry continued to do so even after their tour of duty had officially ended. At first the members of the Night Watch hardly gave the new arrivals a second glance, for they gathered at Joan Hilton’s desk and listened to the police artist who had been working with Larsen’s witness at making a picture of the prowler. In addition to being a skilled artist and trained police officer, the man was a raconteur of some notoriety. Certainly he held his audience’s attention as Alice and Brad walked over.
‘So in the end I’m thinking the face looks like Bela Lugosi in an old late-late horror movie,’ the artist was saying. ‘But I thought what the hell. If Bela Lugosi could look like Bela Lugosi, so could the feller she saw. Then she hit me with it.’ His audience tensed, sensing that the story approached its climax. ‘“Now that’s real like him, young feller,” she said. “Only you’ve forgot about the teeth. He should have two of them, long, sharp-pointed, coming down out of his top jaw.”’
Sympathetic laughter greeted the words, for all the deputies had met with similar experiences. The artist put down his empty coffee-cup, rose and nodded a greeting to Alice and Brad.
‘Hi,’ he greeted. ‘I thought I’d come up and tell you what happened.’
‘Thanks,’ Alice answered. ‘So it was nothing?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. I talked to her after we’d finished the drawing, trying to find out if she’d seen somebody, or just had a nightmare through watching the late-late show. It could be either. Anyways, I told her to think hard and let us, you, know if she remembered anything more about him.’
With that, the artist walked from the squad room. He had spent an entire afternoon drawing faces, altering eyes, noses, ears, hair-lines, jaws and other features until hitting the one the witness claimed to be correct. Then it blew up in his face.
That was part of a peace officer’s work.
After answering a few questions about the progress, or lack of it, of their case, Alice and Brad went to their desk. Several fresh reports had come in and they sat down to examine the information.
‘The F.B.I.’ve sent us twelve possibles,’ Brad said after a moment. ‘Three of them are duplicated by I.C.R., all known to be in Texas. Of the three, one’s in the Walls [xvii] and the second’s a trusty at the Ramsey Unit. [xviii] Third’s in Houston, so I.C.R.’ve asked the local law to look him up. The F.B.I.’ve done the same with the out-of-State makes.’
Duplicating the request for information had been justified and had paid off. While the F.B.I. and I.C.R. had both named the three Texas criminals, the latter also included details which would not be available to the former. The Houston police had already sent word that the suspect was still in their town and had been there for weeks. Some of the out-of-town makes had also been cleared, as their whereabouts had been established. Altogether the deputies crossed seven names from their lists.
The Mexican authorities had sent a list of possible suspects, with whatever information they possessed about the men. Some of them were known to work for mobs based in the United States. So Alice asked Deputy Ortega if he would make inquiries. Born and raised in the toughest section of the Mexican quarter of the city, Ortega had more reliable sources of information about Mexican criminals from either side of the Rio Grande—than Alice or Brad.
‘We’ll see what we can do, Alice,’ Ortega promised. ‘Let’s tell Ric and we’ll be on our way.’
While Alice made the arrangements, Brad read the New York Police Department’s run-down on Hagmeyer. He had no criminal record and was not known to associate with criminals. While the report mentioned that he had touted for stag shows, it insisted that there was nothing to lead to an assumption that he was still involved in such an enterprise. In fact his legitimate productions came so close to putting a stag-show on the stage, that he might be suspected of trying to ruin his former associates. The feud between Hagmeyer and Grayne was mentioned, confirming the comedian’s story of what had happened. Apparently Hagmeyer had taken the various threatening letters he received far more seriously than his wife had intimated. On several occasions he had demanded police protection. The New York Police Department had supplied it each time, although none of them regarded the threats as being dangerous.
Tuck’s got his crew visiting everybody connected with Tap Morgan,’ Brad said as Alice returned from the Watch Commander’s office. ‘They’re looking for a tie in with Morgan and Hagmeyer.’
‘I hope they find one,’ Alice replied fervently. ‘What else have we?’
‘The Airport Detail say that Vellan’s had the locker for six days, ever since he arrived,’ Brad answered. ‘That’s it.’
‘Ric called the cells and asked for them to bring Vellan down,’ Alice said. ‘We’ve nothing to hold him for.’
Almost as soon as Alice and Brad entered the Watch Commander’s office, a patrolman knocked and looked in at the other door to say that he had Vellan outside. Telling the officer to wait for a moment, Alvarez listened to the deputies’ findings about the man. On being brought into the office, Vellan nodded cheerfully and took the chair placed for him before the Watch Commander’s desk. The patrolman withdrew, to wait in the passage until the interview had been concluded. Settling down, Vellan looked expectantly at the three peace officers. He appeared to be no worse for his period of ‘voluntary’ incarceration, for Rockabye County took pride in the cleanliness of its jail facilities.
‘What was the gun doing in the locker, Vellan?’ Alvarez asked.
&n
bsp; ‘Nothing. I brought a fair sum of money with me and figured I’d need protection. After I handed the money over, I didn’t need the protection anymore.’
‘And you left it at the airport,’ Alice said.
‘Why not. There’s always somebody around the locker-room, so nobody could get in and steal it. I don’t have a Texas permit to carry a piece and didn’t want to be picked up for it.’
Which was logical to a criminal mentality, so the deputies accepted it. There were other matters to be settled.
‘So you brought money here for somebody, huh?’ Brad grunted. ‘I thought that you told us you were here on vacation?’
‘And I am,’ Vellan answered. ‘But I should say no when somebody offers to pay for it, if all I have to do is deliver a gambling debt.’
‘A gambling debt, huh?’ Brad grunted skeptically.
‘Sure,’ Vellan agreed. ‘Look, you know that I’m tied in with the Syndicate. I’m not denying it, a lot of nice folks are—’
‘Oh sure! ’ Alvarez sniffed.
‘So I’m in it, not important, but in,’ Vellan continued. ‘And if one of the big men wants me to do him a favor, I should argue? Nobody does that—not twice, anyways.’
‘Get to the white meat,’ Alvarez ordered. ‘Assuming we believe you, would I be right in saying that the feller you handed the money over to is a Mexican?’
Just a flicker of surprise showed on Vellan’s face, then it became a cautious, expressionless mask. Yet he answered the question with barely a pause.
‘Sure he is. It’s Jose Carrasco, the bookie. Maybe you know him.’
‘Keep talking,’ Alvarez grunted.
‘That’s all. The feller back in New York had met him in Saratoga earlier this year and lost thirty grand to him at poker—’ '
You sound like a kid reciting The Night Before Christmas at a church social,’ Alice put in, certain that they were listening to a story prepared before Vellan had left New York and which could be ‘verified’ by the people concerned. Probably Vellan would supply the name of the man who asked him to deliver the money if they insisted. There would be no way the peace officers could prove that he was lying.
‘Did you see the chick?’ Vellan inquired, but he was too old a hand to allow any elation he might feel to show.
‘I thought you’d never ask!’ Alice replied. ‘We saw her, and the staff at the La Paloma. You had luck there, Vellan. We might not have believed her, but what they told us proved you’re clean of the killings.’
‘I said all along I was,’ Vellan grinned. ‘I’m clean everywhere—All right, not everywhere. So I took a couple of falls back East. But I’m going straight now. I learned my lesson.’
‘I just bet you did,’ Alvarez grunted. ‘We’ll have you turned loose.’
T)o I get my piece back?’ Vellan asked. ‘It’s a good gun and cost plenty. I’ve got a carry-permit from New York.’
‘When you leave town,’ Alvarez promised. ‘You won’t need it while you’re here and I’ll have it handed back to you just before you board the plane.’
‘Which’ll be before sun-down tomorrow,’ Alice went on. ‘You’ve done what you came here for, and you wouldn’t enjoy a vacation in Gusher City at this time of the year, or any other—believe me.’
‘And if I don’t go?’ Vellan demanded.
‘There’s still that 1162 rap,’ Alice pointed out.
For a bluff, it failed by a good country mile. Vellan merely grinned and said, ‘One thing I liked about your jail, it’s full of old West hospitality. The other roomers were real sociable and helpful. I know now that the sheriff wouldn’t let you railroad me on a phony rap like that.’
‘So we’ll use a genuine one,’ Alice countered. ‘Article 502 in the Offenses Against Morals section of the Texas Penal Code. That’s adultery, which is voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a person other than the offender’s wife or husband. We can prove that.’
Vellan thought fast. While his work in Gusher City was not completed, his use to the Syndicate had ended in the town. From what the First Deputy had said, some inkling of his purpose had been discovered. That meant he would be kept under surveillance from the moment he was released, even if they did not hold him on the adultery charge. There was only one sensible thing to do. Yield to the inevitable, notify his employers and get out. A substitute could be sent in to resume the negotiations with the Mexican mob.
‘All right, all right,’ he said, shrugging resignedly. ‘You’ve made your point. After what’s happened, I don’t think I’d want to spend my vacation here. If I don’t see this town again, it’ll be too soon for me.’
‘So tell the Chamber of Commerce,’ Alvarez answered. ‘Screw!’
‘Call us when you’re ready to leave and we’ll bring your piece along, then wave you good-bye,’ Alice went on.
‘We’ll expect to hear before noon,’ Brad concluded. ‘If we don’t, I II come and pick you up on that 502 rap.’
Remembering the big blond’s earlier warning, Vellan figured that he had better make good and certain that he did call. If looks could kill, Brad would have died at that moment; but Vellan made no reply. Calling in the waiting patrolman, Alvarez told him to take Vellan back upstairs and to arrange for the man’s release.
Maybe Vellan acted as an enforcer for a criminal syndicate. Possibly he had killed in the course of his work. Certainly he was a much more active and important member than he had stated to the peace officers, or he would never have been sent to act as contact between two organizations. But he was in no way responsible for the two murders committed in Rockabye County.
All Alice and Brad had achieved by their investigations was to establish a known criminal’s innocence. No matter what brought him to Gusher City, or how many crimes Vellan might be suspected of, he was free to leave the Department of Public Safety Building and to depart from Rockabye County.
That too was part of a peace officer’s work.
‘Where’s his gun?’ Alvarez asked after Vellan had been removed.
‘In our desk,’ Alice replied. ‘We brought up in the briefcase and left it there.’
‘Give it to F.I.L. as soon as you log on in the morning,’ the First Deputy suggested. ‘Jed Cornelius’ll shoot a few bullets through it. Then we’ll send some of them and the empty cases to the F.B.I. and New York Police Department. Maybe they’ll match up with some from an unsolved crime, or Vellan’ll use the gun on a caper. Then they’ll have him.’
Which might not be much, but was all that the Rockabye County peace officers could do.
‘We hoped you’d suggest that,’ Brad grinned, having discussed the same possibility with Alice while returning from the Queen of Clubs.
‘I’m not only smart, I’m tricky and sneaky,’ Alvarez answered. ‘Have you anything on the two killings?’
‘Not a thing,’ Alice admitted frankly. ‘There’s no connection between Morgan and Hagmeyer that we can find, except for the M.O.’s and bullets. We’ve no motives that you could put your finger on, either. Can you wire the New York police and ask them to check on Hagmeyer’s financial state, and who’ll get his money now he’s dead?’
‘I’ll have it done straight away,’ Alvarez promised. ‘Leave the paper-work until morning and log off, unless you’ve anything that can’t wait.’
‘There’s nothing more we can do tonight,’ Alice decided. ‘We’ll do that.’
Returning to the squad room, the deputies found Joan Hilton at their desk and hanging up after answering the telephone.
‘It was the president of the Bela Lugosi fan club,’ Joan told them. ‘She says that she’s been thinking about that prowler and’s sure that she made a mistake.’
‘You know,’ Alice said irritably. ‘I thought she might have.’
‘She reckons that she knows who she saw now,’ Joan went on.
‘Boris Karloff,’ Brad guessed.
‘No,’ Joan corrected. The feller she saw was an Indian.’
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��If he was a maharishi, we’ve got it made,’ Brad grinned.
‘Not that kind of Indian.’ Joan protested. ‘One of our kind. There’s only one thing wrong. He was wearing a uniform, not a war-bonnet and buckskins.’
‘What kind of uniform?’ Alice asked.
‘She didn’t say. U.S. Cavalry from Custer’s Last Stand, most likely,’ Joan answered. ‘She asked if we wanted her to come around and make more pictures. I was just saying I’d ask the artist in the morning when her son-in-law came on the line. Said he wished we’d not encourage her, they have enough trouble from her without that. Seems like she’s always seeing some wanted crook, or something, but they’ve always headed her off before the police got to her.’
‘And he doesn’t reckon there’s anything to her story?’
‘Only imagination, Alice. I’ll go along with that.’
‘And me,’ Alice sighed. ‘If we’ve time, we’ll call in and see her in the morning, Brad.’
‘Sure,’ Brad agreed, gathering the reports and placing them in the desk’s drawer after removing Vellan’s briefcase. ‘I’ll give this to Ric, then we’ll log off, boss-lady.’
‘Do that,’ Alice confirmed, although the day’s events had not yet ended. There was still the matter of giving him hell for taking her out to dinner and staring bug-eyed at Zippy Sharon all through the meal to be attended to.