Murder Doll

by Milton Ozaki

  Lunch consisted of a thick, greasy slab of hamburger between a Parker House roll, a dab of cole slaw, and a handful of fried potatoes. I discovered that I was hungry enough to eat almost anything. I ate everything on my plate.

  With lunch out of the way, I went back to the lake for some more swimming and possibly some conversation with Bugsy O'Hare. I finally managed to sneak up on him from the rear and say, “Hello, Bugsy, how're things?”

  “Beat it,” he said vehemently, under his breath.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Not here. Beat it, for chrissake!” He sounded scared to death.

  “Well, where?”

  “Back of the barn. Give me a break, for God's sake.”

  “Okay.” I paddled away and crawled out and found a shady spot beneath a tree. Tony Wells' story had given me a lot to think about. The role of the Carstairs babe, for instance. I had had her pegged as the queen-pin of the new mob, but Tony said no—and he was pretty sharp when it came to estimating the potentialities of women. The baggage tags proved she was from Philadelphia—and she sure as hell had been the one who passed me the brief case. Tony was obviously still sizzling from the way she'd taken him, so maybe, this one time, anyway, he was off the beam.

  Bugsy waded out of the water and strolled off among the trees. I waited a few minutes, then got up, stretched lazily, and wandered away from the lake in a direction opposite to that taken by Bugsy. As soon as I was among the trees, I circled around in a wide arc and headed for the dormitory, as carefully as a cat stalking a mouse.

  “Psst!”

  I spun around. “That you, Bugsy?”

  “Yeah. Stay there, for Gosh sake.”

  He came crawling toward me, parting the grass with his hands and kicking himself forward.

  “Why the hell all this build-up?” I asked.

  “Don't be a goddam stupe,” he advised, coming to a halt beside me. “You may not know it, but you carry Pisano's stink—and I'm in bad enough without being seen chinning with you. Tony must be nuts, letting everybody see him talking to you like that.”

  “Nobody knows who I am, Bugsy.”

  “That's what you think. How'd you get here?”

  “In my car, of course.”

  “So you used your own car and the car's got license plates. Hell, the old lady's sharp.”

  I frowned. “Why should she go to all that trouble?” I asked. “She'd have to make a long distance call to Chicago, get somebody to check at the license bureau, and—”

  “How dumb can a guy get?” Bugsy asked an ant that was crawling in front of him. “You got Illinois plates— and that's suspicious. She keeps in contact with them all the time. Hell, all she had to do was mention you and somebody'd start asking questions. I'll bet you even left your wallet in the locker room, like a sap.”

  “That's right, I did,” I admitted. “Then they know, take my word for it. Brother, you're poison. I don't want to have nothing to do with you.”

  “Where's your pride, Bugsy? Tony told me about the set-up. Are you going to let them kick you around?”

  “Look, Carl. Use your head. I got a joint and I want to keep it. I got a wife and kids. I'm wiped out unless I play along with them. It isn't a question of being kicked around. All it amounts to is taking what Pisano was getting and handing it over to somebody else. The way things look, Pisano is on his way out anyhow, so what have I got to lose?” “What if Pisano comes out on top?” “He can't.” “Why not?”

  “Because he let the heat get in and stay in, and most of the boys are sore. All they're interested in is getting rid of the heat and doing some business. You know how it is. It's strictly dollars and cents—and the tie-up with Pisano has meant a lot of no dough.” “Pisano's going to fight, Bugsy. A gang war won't help business, it'll make the heat hotter than ever.” “Hell, Pisano doesn't even know what's going on.” “That's what you think. Morrie Tannenbaum is Pisano's mouthpiece, and Morrie asked me to look into things. The last I heard, Pisano had scraped together a cool half million to pay off Dippy and keep him out. Pisano won't feel very friendly towards the boys who started to desert.” Bugsy looked thoughtful. “When'd you hear that?” he asked.

  “Last night. The dough was on its way to Bain in Philadelphia by special messenger.”

  “I knew I shouldn't have come here. Now you've given me something else to worry about.” He eyed me sharply. “What happened to Orville Pederson?” I asked. “I think he got taken for a one-way ride.” “Why?”

  “Because he acted like a stupe. All the time he was here, he kept trying to break out.”

  “Didn't they use the movie gimmick on him?”

  “Sure, but he said he didn't give a damn. He's got an old bag for a wife and no kids, and, besides, I got an idea he's on the gay side.”

  “The hell you say.”

  “It figures that way to me. They call him Gee-Gee, don't they?”

  “I'll be damned. His wife got bumped yesterday.”

  “See how it fits? He wouldn't go along with them, so he gets it. Then his wife gets it. What's the result? He's wiped out and the new mob takes over his business.”

  “But there must be an answer.”

  “Let me know if you find it. I'm going to beat it.”

  “Wait, Bugsy—”

  “I talked too damned much already.”

  The grass rustled as he crawled rapidly away. I sat there awhile, slapping at flies and chewing on a twig. I noticed that my shoulders were a little sore and that my arms were turning pink. I crawled back the way I had come, maneuvered my way into a path, and stood up. It took me a minute to get my bearings. Then I started for the entrance gate.

  The gate was closed and two big guys were idly throwing a soft ball back and forth across the driveway. The door of the office was open. I walked in.

  “Hello, Shirley,” I said casually.

  The old babe was taking care of some book work, still as unadorned as ever, but somehow, not quite as repulsive. I suppose a person can get used to anything.

  “Why, Carl,” she cackled, looking up, “you stayed out in the sun too long!”

  “I guess I did,” I agreed. “It feels pretty sore. I thought I'd drive into St. John or Kreutzburg and pick up some ointment for it.”

  “You better not,” she said, shaking her head. “Some of them ointments do more harm than good.”

  “Well, I'd like to pick up some cigarettes, too.”

  “Just tell me what you want, Carl, and I'll have one of the boys get them for you.” Her voice became noticeably firm. “You shouldn't go anywhere with a bad burn like that.”

  “I'd like a few packs of Tareytons.” I started toward the locker room. “I'll get some money for you.”

  “You needn't bother,” she said sharply. I caught a note of warning in her voice—-and stopped. “I'll pay for your cigarettes and charge them to you. You can pay me when you leave.” As I turned around and came back to her, her face relaxed and she smiled in a way which made her dark eyes smolder attractively. The expression on her face struck a chord somewhere in the back of my mind, but I wasn't able to identify it. “Why don't you go to the recreation room and play cards with your friends?” she asked pleasantly.

  “My friends? Who do you mean?”

  “Why, Tony's a friend of yours, isn't he?” she asked pointedly. “And Bugsy is, too, isn't he?”

  “I talked to a fellow named Tony who said he was from Chicago, if that's what you mean.”

  “Oh. I was told you knew each other quite well.” She went back to her book work.

  I sighed. Bugsy had been right.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I spent the rest of the afternoon making a tour of the walls which encircled the park. For over two hours I stubbed my toes on rocks and fought the stabbing branches of bushes and trees, only to conclude that I'd wasted my time. The wall was high and solid, the spiked rail which topped it had been erected by an expert, and the branches of all nearby trees had been clipped.
>
  When the horn sounded for dinner, I joined the procession back to the dormitory and ate my share of the wieners and potato salad. The tables seemed to be more crowded than they had been at lunchtime but I didn't recognize any new bodies, and I began to wonder if the experience was going to spoil, permanently, my eye for the female form divine.

  When the meal was finished, I went outside and wandered down the path to the lake. It had been a hot day and my body felt sticky and dirty. I dove in and swam listlessly about for a half hour, then climbed upon a flat rock and stretched out.

  I noticed the yellowish streak of her hair in the water, first, then the graceful rhythm with which her creamy arms stroked her along. She went past me, doing a lazy crawl stroke and swam about two hundred feet straight out into the lake. Executing a splashless turn, she came back at the same lazy pace and headed directly toward me. My heart began to thump and I felt my breath catch in my throat. When she was ten feet away, she stretched her arms straight out in front of her, reaching for the side of the rock. Her feet fluttered whitely in the water as she added impetus to the glide, then her fingers were touching the rock and, a moment later, she was sitting beside me.

  “Hello,” she said casually, smoothing water from her chest and shaking wet hair away from her shoulders. “I hope you don't mind my joining you. This is my favorite rock.”

  “Not at all,” I managed to say, moving over and making room. “It's community property, isn't it?”

  “Yes, but some of the members don't feel that way. You're new around here, aren't you?” She eyed me in a friendly manner.

  I caught the act, of course. I wasn't supposed to know her because she'd been draped in black, therefore there was no reason for her to admit to knowing me. I nodded and said, “I joined this morning. Do you come here often?”

  “Not very. I'd like to, though. Gosh, it was hot today, wasn't it?”

  “Sure was. My name's Carl, incidentally.”

  “I'm Alice.”

  As though by accident, she leaned back and our shoulders touched. I didn't move, and she didn't either. I was acutely conscious of the contact, and fire seemed to pour out of her and into me.

  “You don't live around here, do you, Carl?” she asked.

  “No, I'm from Chicago.”

  “Why, what a coincidence—I am, too!” The pressure from her shoulder increased as she turned her head up so she could smile into my face.

  I remembered what Tony had told me, and I thought: Well, what the hell, two can play at any game. She's here for no good and I might as well enjoy it. Very casually, I moved my arm and slid it around her. When my hand touched her, she tilted her face up and closed her eyes a little. I tightened my arm and kissed her. Her lips were cool at first, then warmth began to flow between us and I felt the hot flood of urgency. I put both arms about her and held her close.

  “No, no, Carl,” she whispered. “Not here.”

  “Where?”

  “Come.” She slid into the water and stroked toward shore. I followed. We emerged as wet as seals and, taking my hand, she drew me toward the path. “We'll be more comfortable in the dormitory,” she said softly. “It'll be nicer there.”

  “Not the dormitory,” I objected. “It's too beautiful here.”

  “We don't have to be with the others. Shirley has a room. She'll let us use it.”

  “No,” I said. “Look, the stars are out.”

  “Well—” A note of doubt crept into her voice.— “don't you think it's a little too chilly?”

  “I'll keep you warm,” I promised.

  I led her around the dormitory to the tall grasses where Bugsy and I had talked and, with a little sigh, she sank down beside me and came into my arms. I held her tightly a moment, then passion rocketed within me as the smooth, firm, still damp flesh of her body melted against mine. The darkness seemed to close about us, and we and the rustling grasses became one...

  “Darling,” she murmured later, “please believe me, I haven't ever done this before.”

  “I feel as though I hadn't either,” I told her, with considerable truth. “You aren't sorry?”

  “No. I can't explain it, but ... I think I wanted this to happen—from the moment I saw you sitting there on my rock.”

  I had to shake myself, mentally, to remember that it was all an act, and that she ought to be getting to the punch line pretty soon. I said, “I think I felt that way, too. I could hardly keep from reaching into the water for you.”

  She was silent a moment, then she turned in my arms and asked, “What do we do now, Carl?”

  I tried to see her eyes but couldn't. Misinterpreting my movement, she lifted her lips and clung to me. I managed to say, “We'll do whatever you want, Alice.”

  “Don't laugh, darling, but all I want to do is to stay close to you, forever and ever.” I felt her start, as though she had remembered something. “Gosh, you aren't married, are you? I forgot to ask.”

  “I'm a bachelor,” I assured her, beginning to get the drift. “I've never been able to find anyone who'd have me.”

  She waited, then, in a small, hushed voice, said, “I would, Carl.”

  So that was the punch line. I tightened my arms and held her against my chest while I tried to think. She was Bain's ex-mistress, probably, and he'd had to get her out of Philadelphia, possibly because his wife had gotten wise to her. Bain was setting her up in the Chicago territory to run things for him. Last night, she'd turned a half million bucks over to me to take to Bain—and I'd given her a receipt. That made her clean with Bain. The boys who chased me must have been acting on her orders, and it would have been a sweet double-cross. With me knocked off, she'd have had the dough and the receipt— and Bain would have had to whistle for his dough. But it hadn't worked out that way. She knew that I had the dough, of course, and she'd probably been plenty worried until she found out where I was.

  “You'd be sorry,” I said. “I'm a rough, no-good guy.”

  “I wouldn't! I think it'd be wonderful, darling... unless you didn't love me.”

  “Of course I love you. Don't you believe me?”

  “But you don't want to marry me.”

  “I didn't say so, did I?”

  “You mean you will?” She crushed herself against me. “Oh, darling! I'm so happy!” Her lips sought mine. “Let's not wait. Let's go to Crown Point.”

  “Tonight, you mean?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes, tonight! I don't want to wait, now that I've found you, and I never did care for big weddings. We could drive there in an hour, get the license—do everything!”

  “But how about your parents and your friends?”

  “I don't care about them, darling. I want it to be spontaneous, the way our love began. Don't you understand?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “You don't want to marry me. You think I'm just a cheap pushover, who's trying to rush you into—”

  “Don't put words into my mouth,” I interrupted, stroking her smooth back. I still couldn't see what she was driving at, but I felt damned sure that I'd never get out of the park with my clothes, gun, and car, much less with her. “Of course I want to marry you. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'd have to be completely nuts not to want to have you.”

  “Do you really think I'm beautiful?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you want to marry me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tonight? In Crown Point?”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, darling—let's hurry and tell Shirley!”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The old babe didn't like the idea a bit. As soon as Alice told her, her face got hard and her eyes flashed angrily and she opened her mouth to start voicing objections. But Alice didn't give her a chance. Not in front of me, anyway. She took the old gal by the arm and led her into another room, from which I could catch only the low murmur of their voices. When they came out a few minutes later, Shirley's face was still hard and her lips were p
ressed together in a thin, tight line, but she seemed acquiescent.

  “Shirley and Patrick are coming with us,” she announced. “They'll be our witnesses. Isn't that nice of them?”

  “Yeah,” I said without enthusiasm.

  “We may as well all go down to the locker room and get dressed. Oh, darling, I'm so excited! Aren't you?”

  “Sure.” I was, too, but not in the same way she was.

  She held tightly to my arm as we traced our way down the path which led to the gate. Shirley had preceded us. The door of the locker room was open when we got there and one of the big guys was in a corner, putting on slacks.

  “Patrick, this is Carl,” Alice said gaily.

  “Hi,” he said, letting us see his teeth for a moment.

  I nodded and muttered a very light hello. The locker opened readily when I twisted the key and my clothes seemed to be the way I had left them. Alice's locker was near the door. She was humming to herself and pulling a lacy slip down over her hips. I felt in the rear of the locker, where I had hung my holster and gun. The holster was there, but the gun was gone. My spirits sank to a new low.

  “Darling, you're so slow!” she cried a few minutes later, pivoting beside me on her high heels. She was fully dressed in a black shirt, black skirt, and matching jacket. A gold-and-pearl choker gleamed about her neck. “Shall I do your tie for you?”

  “I'll do it myself,” I said gently. The big guy was already dressed, too, and was slouched near the door, waiting for us.

  “Okay,” I said when I couldn't stall any longer. I felt for my wallet; it was in my pocket. “Where's Shirley?”

  “Her locker is in the office. She's probably already dressed and waiting for us.”

  She was, too, all decked out in a pink dress which laid over her bones like a fish net hung out to dry. Alice and I got into the front seat of my car and Patrick climbed stolidly into the back. Shirley had a car of her own, a green Chewy sedan. We went through the gate in close formation and headed south.