by J. T. Edson
Alice, Brad and the sheriff left by the rear door, avoiding the crowd which had been attracted by the disturbance. Along the street behind the house stood the big Metro-van that had carried the posse into action—a refinement many an old-time peace officer might have found of the greatest use—and the sheriff’s official car. By the time they reached the Oldsmobile, the deputies knew their destination and assignment. Brad took the wheel while Alice. climbed into the back and sat alongside Jack.
‘Do you believe Rutland?’ Alice inquired as the car started moving.
‘He could be telling the truth,’ the sheriff answered. ‘Nobody in his racket dare chance getting the Syndicate riled up against them.’
‘Or he could be counting on everybody figuring that way,’ Brad suggested.
‘Pulling a double bluff, you mean?’ Alice said.
‘Something like that. He could have knocked Tap Morgan and Hagmeyer off to confuse us.’
‘It’s possible, Brad,’ Jack admitted. ‘We’ll see how his alibis check out.’
Jose Carrasco lived in a large pseudo-hacienda style house on the boundary of the Lasher and Greevers Divisions. By far the largest house in the area, it had an elegance that seemed more suited to Upton Heights. Leaving the Oldsmobile on the drive-way, the peace officers went across the wide porch and to the front door.
A butler appeared as Jack rang the bell, coming so promptly that he might have been expecting visitors. With an air of disdainful politeness, he studied the three id. wallets and asked their owners to step inside. Leaving them in the entrance hall, he padded silently to a door, knocked and entered the room beyond it. A few seconds later Carrasco, big, bulky in his tuxedo, came from the room and walked forward with an expression of friendly surprise.
‘What brings you out this way, sheriff?’ Carrasco asked after shaking hands.
‘I want to see Señor Peraro,’ Jack replied.
Only by a flicker did Carrasco show surprise at the request. Then he nodded and said, ‘If you’ll wait in my study, I’ll tell him you’re here.’
‘Come this way, please,’ requested the butler, moving from where he had been hovering in the background.
Everything about Carrasco’s study told that money had been lavished on it, yet it was in good taste. After the butler had left them, Brad looked around and remarked, ‘This place’s the best reason I know for not betting on races.’
If races paid for it,’ Alice replied. ‘Carrasco seemed a mite surprised to see us.’
Before any more could be said, the door opened and Carrasco entered behind Cristobal Peraro. Medium-sized, grey-haired and bearded, Peraro wore a tuxedo of impeccable cut. He carried himself with an air of dignity and authority, like a man used to commanding instant obedience. Which he was. Peraro’s word was law in much of North Mexico and he held the power of life and death over a vast territory. Only his eyes, cold, dark, menacing, told of the savage, ruthless interior beneath the appearance of good breeding and elegance.
‘Good evening, sheriff,’ Peraro greeted in accent-free English. ‘You are well informed to have learned so quickly of my arrival.’
‘A man of your importance can’t travel far without attracting attention, Señor Peraro,’ Jack replied. ‘Can we talk in private?’
‘If you wish,’ Peraro agreed. ‘Or if our host will oblige us.’
‘You know me, sheriff,’ Carrasco said. ‘Anything to oblige.’
‘You know why we've come to see you?’ Jack asked as Carrasco left the room.
‘To talk about my nephew's murder. I meant to call your Office in the morning and arrange a meeting.’
‘Would that be before or after you saw Andy Rutland?’ Brad put in.
Apart from stiffening slightly, Peraro gave little hint that the words meant anything to him. Yet the change was obvious to the peace officers. He looked like a predatory animal hearing the baying of hounds and suddenly becoming aware that they were much closer than it had expected. His eyes held a wary glint as he looked from the big blond to Jack Tragg.
‘You are well-informed, sheriff, if you know of Tomas' trouble with Rutland.’
‘I’d say it was the other way round,’ Brad drawled. ‘Rutland's trouble with your nephew.’
‘Let's put our cards on the table, Señor Peraro,’ Jack went on.
‘Very well,’ Peraro agreed and nodded to Alice. ‘Would you care to sit down, señorita?’
‘I’ll stand,’ Alice replied.
‘If you do, I can’t sit down,’ Peraro said disarmingly.
‘Then I’ll sit,’ Alice smiled.
Drawing a chair to the side of the desk facing the door, Peraro seated Alice on it. Brad and Jack ranged themselves on either side of her and Peraro sat down opposite them. The alertness remained in his eyes and he was clearly waiting for the peace officers to show what line they wished the conversation to run along. Alice broke the silence after almost two minutes.
‘Why are you here, Señor Peraro?’
‘My nephew, Tomas, has been killed. So I have come to make the arrangements for his burial—’
‘And to avenge his death?’ Brad suggested.
‘You said that, not me,’ Peraro pointed out. ‘I don’t know your deputies, Sheriff Tragg.’
‘Woman Deputy Fayde and Deputy Counter,’ Jack introduced. ‘I’ve picked Andy Rutland up this evening, señor.’
‘For Tomas’ murder?’
‘Nope. For running a steer-game. I’ve asked him about the murder. He says he didn’t do it, nor have it done.’
‘I didn’t think he had,’ Peraro stated.
‘Then why did you send for him to come and see you?’ Brad demanded.
‘Ah!’ Peraro ejaculated, looking relieved. ‘So that’s how you learned of my arrival.’
‘That’s how,’ Jack confirmed. ‘Did you think that somebody had sold you out to us?’
‘You asked why I sent to ask Rutland to see me, Señor Counter,’ Peraro said, calmly evading the sheriff’s comment. ‘I wanted to ask him questions, to make certain that he was not the cause of Tomas’ death. I believe that I would know if he spoke the truth.’
‘What if you felt satisfied that he was innocent?’ Brad wanted to know.
‘I would have given him the money which Tomas cheated him out of in San Antonio.’
‘Why?’ Alice asked.
‘It’s a matter of family honor, señorita,’ Peraro told her. ‘And it’s just as much a matter of family honor for you to try to get the man who killed your nephew, isn’t it?’ Alice continued. ‘Is that why you’re here in Gusher City, señor?’
‘It is expected of me, señorita,’ Peraro explained. ‘We Mexicans are great believers in our traditions. So my—business associates shall we say—expect me to do something about Tomas’ death. If I fail to at least try to avenge the murder of a blood-relation, they will lose faith in me and think that I am no longer capable of controlling my business.’
Coming to his feet, Jack slapped the palms of his hands down hard on to the top of the desk. Although he drew back slightly, Peraro neither rose nor changed his facial expression. However his right forefinger moved slowly towards the knob of a drawer. Leaning forward, Jack looked straight into the Mexican’s eyes.
‘Leave the buzzer, señor,’ the sheriff ordered. You haven’t got a man who can take Brad with guns or bare hands. And get one thing into your head right now. I’m not having a gang war started from my county.’
‘A gang war?’ Peraro repeated, but his finger stopped moving and his eyes flickered in Brad’s direction. ‘Of course, Deputy Brad Counter. I’ve heard of you, señor. You come from a long line of gun-fighters.’
‘Don’t change the subject,’ Jack drawled, sitting down. ‘I know who you are, and what you are; which I’ll give you credit for not hiding it. What I’m saying is that these killings and your coming here shape up like a gang war and I’m not letting it happen.’
‘Go on,’ Peraro said, showing no resentment.
‘I don’t know what’s behind the killings,’ Jack continued. ‘Maybe it’s a multiple contract, three different parties each wanting somebody knocked off in the county. If that’s so, it’s been handled by one of the big mobs. And if it’s one of the big mobs, they’d know Cortez was your nephew. That they took the contract shows they aren’t caring about that, or about you talking with the New York Syndicate.’
‘You’ve got me interested,’ Peraro admitted, not entirely hiding his surprise at learning the extent of the sheriff’s knowledge about his private affairs.
‘If it is a multiple contract, it’s been done knowing about you, Cortez and the Syndicate,’ Jack went on. ‘Which’s like a declaration of war.’
‘Maybe that’s why Cortez was killed, sir,’ Brad commented to Jack. ‘To thumb their noses at Señor Peraro and the Syndicate. Could be that the other two were washed out just to keep us from catching on to the real game.’
‘They’d know that killing your nephew would bring you up here,’ Jack said, looking at Peraro. ‘If some mob wanted to get you, they’d have a better chance to do it here than down in Mexico.’
‘That’s true enough,’ the Mexican conceded.
‘And if you’re knocked off,’ Jack finished. ‘Your own boys would be looking for evens against whoever did it, even if the Syndicate didn’t take it up for you. And Rockabye County’d be caught in the middle of a gang war. That’s not going to happen, señor.’
‘There is another possibility, sheriff,’ Alice remarked. ‘That the three killings are connected and nothing to do with Señor Peraro.’
‘I don’t quite follow you, señorita,’ Peraro said, yet something in his tone showed that he did.
‘The killings may be tied in with some incident involving Tap Morgan, Hagmeyer, and your nephew,’ Alice elaborated. ‘If so, it must have been something that happened before 1949.’
‘Why then?’
‘Because that’s the last time they were all in Gusher City.’
‘I can’t think of any connection, Miss Fayde,’ Peraro said, frowning a little as if the girl had given him an entirely new line of conjecture. ‘Neither of the other victims were criminals, I believe.’
‘Tap Morgan did some moonshining,’ Jack replied. ‘But Hagmeyer’s clean as far as our records show.’
‘Will you tell us everything you can about your nephew, señor?’ Alice asked.
‘What kind of things?’
‘His character, friends, business associates—shall we say,’ Alice explained. ‘I mean from back around ’49.’
‘That’s a long time ago,’ Peraro pointed out. ‘Especially as around then I wasn’t really close to my nephew. My sister brought him across the border to try to keep him from a life of crime. That would be like trying to teach a duck not to swim, or a cat not to kill mice, but she was determined to try, r so I let her go ahead. She had little success. Unfortunately he made a poor criminal and was not a nephew I could be proud of.’
‘He let the family down, huh?’ Jack prompted.
‘Badly,’ agreed Peraro. ‘You will have seen his record by this time, Sheriff. It is one of bungled petty crime.’
‘He was getting bigger,’ Brad pointed out.
‘If you could call it that!’ Peraro sniffed. ‘There were other things—’
‘Such as?’ Jack demanded.
‘My family have always been known for their loyalty to their companions. It is expected of us. When I began to hear rumors that Tomas had failed to uphold the family tradition, I decided to straighten him out. He had this talent with dice, so I arranged for him to learn a useful trade, one which would keep him supplied with money and remove the need for him to try more robberies. It worked, or I thought it had, until I heard about him double-crossing Rutland.’
‘In what way was your nephew disloyal, señor?’ Alice asked.
‘If something went wrong on one of his capers, he would get out—take a greaser stand-off, I think you call it in Texas—without warning his companion,’ Peraro explained and he was clearly embarrassed. ‘It isn’t easy for me to tell you about a private family matter, señorita.’
‘We’re grateful to you for doing it, señor,’ Alice replied. ‘Who were the friends he deserted?’
‘Billy Heenan was one, the first to come to my attention. I heard others mentioned, but can’t recall their names.’
‘Then why do you remember Heenan?’ Brad inquired. ‘As the sheriff will tell you, his family were of some prominence in Gusher City,’ Peraro answered.
‘Not anymore,’ Jack drawled. ‘We had to kill some of them and the rest were jailed for life. Billy was one who died.’
‘And you can’t think of any more names, señor?’ Alice asked.
‘I’m afraid not, señorita,’ Peraro sighed. ‘What do you intend to do about me, sheriff?’
‘Nothing. You’re clean in Texas and likely here legally on a visitor’s permit. Sure I could find some way around that if I thought it would help, but it won’t. You could do everything you wanted from below the border. That being the case, I reckon we can come to an agreement.’
‘May I ask what kind of an agreement?’ Peraro said thoughtfully. "You must understand my position, sheriff. I must try to find the man who killed Tomas. Not only because it is expected of me, but so that I can learn why he was killed.’
‘Way I see it,’ Jack replied. ‘You don’t want fuss with the law right now. But you’ll sure as hell get it if you start stirring things up in my bailiwick. So I’m asking you to help me.’
‘How?’
‘By passing anything you learn to Alice and Brad here. Then if we haven’t nailed Cortez’s killer in a week, go to doing it yourself.’
Peraro did not reply for some time. Instead he sat back in his chair and looked at the roof. All in all, the sheriff’s proposal had come as a surprise. Yet it had much to commend it under the prevailing conditions.
‘I can count on your discretion?’ Peraro asked the deputies.
‘You can,’ Jack confirmed and they added their agreement.
‘Very well,’ Peraro said. ‘I will have questions asked and let you know what I learn. Is something bothering you, Señor Counter?’
‘One thing,’ Brad admitted. ‘Why’re you and the Syndicate meeting here?’
‘Gusher City is neutral ground, not controlled by either myself or the New York businessmen I’m talking with. That’s all I’m willing to say.’
‘It’s enough,’ Jack stated. ‘We’ll let you know as soon as we get the killer, señor.'
‘And you have my word that I will pass on any information I pick up,’ Peraro promised, coming to his feet and holding out his hand.
On leaving the room, they found Carrasco waiting in the hall. Jack thanked him for his help, then headed for the front door. Going to the Oldsmobile, the sheriff told his deputies to take the back seat while he did the driving.
‘Will he keep his word, sir?’ Brad asked after they had left Carrasco’s property.
‘I reckon he might,’ Jack replied. ‘Right now he doesn’t want trouble with the local law. It could queer his deal, whatever that might be, with the Syndicate. But he’s got to make like he’s doing something to run down Cortez’s killer. If he doesn’t—there’re likely fellers in his mob just itching to fill his shoes. Peraro stands to lose a damned sight more than control of his outfit. It’s not like a legitimate business. When a mob’s big boss has to be retired, they don’t pension him off and let him spend his declining years in a senior-citizens’ home. So he’ll go through the motions, pass what he learns to us, and hope we get the killer before he has to do it.’
‘In a way I liked Peraro,’ Alice remarked. ‘Sure, I know what kind of a man he is, but he’s honest about it. And he’s got dignity, pride. Telling us how one of his kin was a rat-fink couldn’t have been easy for him.’
‘I’ll bet he remembers more names than he gave us,’ Brad drawled.
‘Likely he does,’ Jack agreed. �
�Only he wants time to check on them and find out who they’re connected with now. Peraro doesn’t want trouble with us or any of the big mobs, but if it has to come he’d rather have it with the mobs. So he’ll give us a few names. Only we’re not waiting for that. Starting in the morning, I want you pair to read up on every minor crime that happened from ’47 to ’50 and that’s a lot of crimes. Look for capers where only one man was caught, but that ought to have been two-handed. And for any hint that one of a gang had not been caught, then check it out. It won’t be easy, but it’s the only lead we’ve got.’
‘We’d best learn what we can about Cortez’s M.O. at the same time.’
‘I’ve done it, Alice,’ Jack said. ‘The times we picked him up, he was always the lookout while his pard pulled the stickup or robbery.’
‘Then we want jobs that ought to have had a look-out, but didn’t,’ Brad drawled. ‘Like you said, sheriff, it won’t be easy.’
‘It’s got advantages,’ Jack grinned. ‘Like I’m taking you off the five-to-eight prowl in the morning. Go get a good night’s sleep and log on early to start checking the records.’
For the first time, the deputies realized that the sheriff had not been taking the most direct route to the D.P.S. Building. Instead he was driving through the streets of Lasher Division towards the apartment house where Alice lived. He set them down near the Chadwick Building and went on his way. Crossing the parking lot Alice and Brad entered through the side door. Walking along the well-lit passage, they passed the stairs and entered the elevator to ride to the first floor. Inside her apartment, Alice kicked off her borrowed shoes and sighed with relief.
‘Unzip me, Brad,’ she requested. ‘It’s your turn to make the coffee.’
‘It’s not,’ Brad objected, complying with the request. ‘But you out-rank me, boss-lady.’
Removing his jacket, Brad hung it on the back of a chair. He took off his shoulder holster and placed it on the side-piece alongside Alice’s bag. Deciding that he would clean the gun after supper, he left it in the holster still loaded, cocked and with the safety catch at ‘safe’. While her partner went into the kitchen, Alice stripped to her bra and panties. The telephone buzzed as she turned towards the bathroom.