I climb into the back seat and pull my pistol from the holster, showing the boy I mean business. In seconds he pulls out onto the street, and we are off to what I believe will be Renault’s Gin Joint.
Chapter 15
The Wife
As expected, the Cadillac pulls up to Renault’s Gin joint, and I get out of the car. I lean into the open window and look the boy in the eye.
“If I hear so much as a squeak from this car, I will hunt you down and you will live to regret it. Moses is not to know I’m coming. You get out of here and go home.”
The boy nods and peels out of the parking space and down the road. I put my heater back in the holster and cover it with my overcoat, keeping it unbuttoned for easier access.
I open the doors and walk in. Strangely, neither Rocco nor Roscoe are keeping watch. I’d been worried I’d have to be creative in hiding my piece from the brutes or just shooting them down and damn the consequences. Although I doubt the police would try too hard to find the killer of those two.
The sound of the canary on stage is infuriating. Had Moses not threatened Dorothy, it would be her I hear through the microphone now. I step into the bar and see Dorothy’s band playing behind the doll Alice says is Abigail. She’s a looker to be sure, and her voice is incredible, but she’s not Dorothy.
I see Alice from across the bar; she stares at me in a terrified stupor. I walk toward her, pushing my way through a crowd of drunks. “A pack of cigarettes,” I say, handing her a dollar.
She pulls a pack from her tray and hands it to me. “What are you doing here, Thomas? You know Moses doesn’t want you here.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be here either. But Moses did something real bad, or at least I suspect he did, and I’m going to have some words with him.”
Alice steps back and shakes her head. “He’s in his office. You know where it is.” She starts to turn but stops halfway. “Oh, Thomas? Whatever Moses did, I don’t want to know.” She pauses and hangs her head. “I know he’s not a good man, and he’s getting worse than I ever thought possible. But I need my job and if I know what he did, I might see him differently, worse than I do. I can’t afford for that to happen.”
“Whatever you say, doll.”
“I’m serious, Thomas. You keep your mouth shut when you leave his office.”
I nod and tip my hat to her before turning toward Moses’s office. People seem to notice I’m a man on a mission and make a path for me to get through.
I open the door and let myself in.
“What the hell?” I hear Moses say as he looks up from his desk. “Baxter? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I want an answer,” I say. “I want the truth, and you’re going to give it to me.”
Moses looks around the room, likely checking to see if his goons are anywhere in the vicinity. “What do you want to know?”
“When you said you’d kill someone I know, who were you referring to?”
“I said that?” he asks, the look on his face telling me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I don’t recall saying anything like that.”
I pull out my heater and point it at his head. “I’m not fooling around, Moses,” I say. “You’re going to tell me who you said you’d kill, or I’m putting a hole in your body.”
Moses’s grin grows wide as he raises his hands. “You kill me, you’ll never know.”
This time I grin. “I didn’t say I’d kill you.”
I fire, and a finger from Moses’s hand flies off his hand, leaving a trail of blood. Moses screams as he stares at his hand.
“Start talking,” I say. “Or I’ll shoot another one off.”
“You know damn well who I killed,” Moses says.
I shake my head. “I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you speak his name.”
Moses shakes his head and clutches his hand. I hit Moses across the forehead with the butt of my heater.
“Say it,” I growl.
“Brandon Baxter,” he finally says. “I killed your brother.”
My vision goes red, and the thought of pulling the trigger becomes more alluring than it had ever been before. Time slows around me as I keep Moses in my sights. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my breathing slows. My brain races as thoughts concerning what I want to do to Moses develop.
I lower my piece and pull out a set of handcuffs from my inside jacket pocket. “Moses Renault, you are under arrest for the murder of Brandon Baxter.” I go behind him and clamp the cuffs over his wrists.
I lead him out and all eyes turn to us. I know full well the gunshot was heard over the band, though I’d expected Roscoe and Rocco to appear to keep me off their boss well before now.
“You really are dumber than a bag of bricks,” Moses says. “A real twit.”
“Shut your mouth,” I say as I lead him through the bar.
I catch Alice’s eye as I lead her employer, the cuffs behind his back and the blood pouring from his hand making her eyes grow wet and wide. I’ll have to make a point of apologizing to her later. I came in without a plan and lost my head. She won’t accept it or listen to me, but I have to try.
I push Moses through the door and into the street.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Moses says. “That you won’t listen or that you can’t see the painfully obvious.”
“What are you talking about?
“You should have just killed me,” Moses says. “You could at the very least have claimed self-defence. But no, you had to lead me through a whole group of witnesses who saw my bleeding hand and the cuffs on my wrists. They know I’m under arrest, and therefore defenceless.”
“Get to the point.”
“The point is that you’re screwed,” Moses says. “You take me into the station, they’re going to see me brutalized and believe the confession you’re going to say I gave came at the threat of bodily harm.
“To continue the point further, you can’t kill me here and now either. I have to go to the police station; you made sure of that when you led me through my own clip joint. So, to put it simply, unless you do exactly what I say, you’re going to lose your detective’s licence and be charged for grievous bodily harm.”
I hate to admit it, but Moses is right. I backed myself into a corner without any way to get out; I shot an unarmed man. My life basically ends here and now.
“Okey,” I say, raising my piece and aiming it at his head. “In for a penny, in for a pound. Better to get justice for my brother’s murder and be tried as a killer than to let you go free.”
“Wait,” Moses says, his eyes wide and panicked. “I’ll sweeten the deal for you. If you do as I say, I will not only confess to your brother’s murder on the record, but I’ll tell the police that the wound I sustained happened because I came at you with a knife. It was self-defence.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because that way we both get what we want. I get my mission fulfilled, and you get justice for your brother.”
The deal does seem to be fair. It almost doesn’t matter what Moses wants from me; throwing his own life away is a good deal. “I won’t do anything illegal.”
“Nothing illegal about it,” Moses says. “In fact, it’s completely legal.”
“What is it?”
“We want you to seduce Ruth Sutton.”
My eyes widen, and the corners of my mouth curl in amusement. I chuckle a little and shake my head. “That’s funny. You’re a funny man. What’s the real job?”
Moses’s eyes remain serious and narrow. “That’s the job. Do you accept it or not?”
“You want me to seduce Ruth Sutton?”
“That’s what I said.”
“To what purpose?”
Moses puts his feet under him and manages to stand. “It doesn’t matter what we have planned. All we ask is that you seduce her and pitch woo. You got it?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s astounding. It’s unprecedented. It’s the last re
quest I’d have ever expected.
“I need a reason before I do this,” I say. “You can’t ask me to do something like that without a reason.”
“The reason you’re going to do this is to get justice for your brother’s death.” Moses grins, and my face gets hot with rage. “I’m not open to debate or discussion. If you want justice for your brother, you’re going to seduce Ruth Sutton. After you do that, I’ll confess to everything.”
I frown and consider decking the sonofabitch. I decide against it, knowing it wouldn’t work out in my favour. Moses is being reasonable and wants me to take the job. I take in a deep breath and sigh.
“I’ll do it,” I say. “But I have some ground rules.”
“Name them.”
“If she says no for any reason, I go no further, and you confess regardless.”
Moses raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Deal. Though I don’t suspect she’s going to say no. She’s got a real attraction to you. I bet she’ll be ecstatic to get a pass from you.”
I remember the last time I was at her house, and she did indeed make a pass at me. I didn’t expect it to ever come back up again; in fact, I’d almost forgotten about it. The memories come flooding back, and I sigh once again.
“Any other rules?”
“I’m not staying the night with her.”
“Of course not,” Moses says, his grin widening. “What would the neighbours think? She’s an honest woman, after all. Just down on her luck after her husband died.”
My mouth tightens. “You’re to stay in the car until we finish. I’m not having you get your jollies by listening in.”
This makes Moses stop, his grin vanishing. “You thought I’d want to be in the house?”
“As proof,” I say. “I know your type.”
Moses snickers. “Detective Baxter, I promise you, you have never known anyone quite like me.”
The urge to deck him grows, but once again, I resist.
“My final condition is that you pay for the cab.”
Moses grins. “I can do that. Let’s go.”
***
I didn’t expect to get to Ruth’s house quickly, but the driver seems to be in a hurry. Moses and I sit in the cab staring at Ruth’s house, my gut feeling a thousand pounds heavier than usual.
“Don’t tell me you're nervous,” Moses says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I figured you to be a bit of a lady killer. I’m actually disappointed.”
“You should be,” I say. “Should be ashamed as well. God knows I will be.”
I step out of the taxi and walk the shovelled path to Ruth’s doorstep. It’s already dark out; all the better. It keeps my presence hidden from potentially prying eyes. Not planning on sticking around longer than I have to can also give the impression I’m only a detective coming to ask Ruth some questions.
I knock on the door, and Ruth opens it after only a few seconds. It’s quick enough I almost believe she was waiting for me.
“Detective Baxter,” Ruth says. “What brings you here?”
“Can I come in?”
Her head leans back in surprise and cocks slightly to the side. “Yes, of course.”
I enter the house, and I imagine the glee on Moses’s face as the door closes behind me. I walk to the living area and swallow hard.
“Mister Baxter?”
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” I say. “About you.”
The words come out of my mouth heavy as lead. I don’t believe the words I’m saying; I can’t imagine for a moment she’s buying a word of it either.
“About me?”
“Yes.” I flinch at what I’m about to say. “I’ve been thinking about the last time I came here and what happened.”
Ruth blushes. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
“It’s not that at all. I actually can’t get you out of my mind.” My gut does a somersault, and I feel like retching. “I want to take you up on your offer.”
Under any other circumstance, I might have been excited at the idea of a carnal moment with Ruth Sutton. She’s a fetching woman, to say the least. Under these conditions, I can’t help but hate every moment of what I’m about to do.
Ruth’s eyes sparkle as she hears my words. I doubt she’s able to fully process my false confession. Worse yet, I think she’s actually buying what I’m saying. Either she’s desperate for someone to touch her in the way only a man can, or she’s in it with Moses and the others and I’ve been lured directly into the trap.
Ruth gives me a sweet smile and wraps her arms around me. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she says. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
I don’t know what to say. All the reasons I can conceive race through my mind, and none of them suit any possibility of reality.
“Oh, I don’t really care,” she says before placing a tender kiss on my cheek.
“Missus Sutton,” I say.
“Please, I asked you to call me Ruth.”
“Okey.” My mouth dries, and I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to go through with what Moses wants me to do. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“Of course,” Ruth replies. “I’ll be right back.”
She leaves the room, and my heart speeds up. I don’t think I can go through with it. I know what it means to fail, to stop and tell Moses I couldn’t do it. Even my own downfall wouldn’t be worth what I’m about to do.
Ruth returns with two glasses of wine and a bottle between her fingers. “Do you like wine, Mister Baxter?”
“Call me Thomas,” I say. “Since we’re on a first-name basis now.”
“Okey, Thomas,” she says with a slight giggle.
We sit on the sofa, and she hands me a glass. I take a sip, and the fruit flavours are a welcome change to the harsh fire hooch offers. However, wine doesn’t have the same immediate effects.
Ruth leans into my arm and takes a sip of wine. “I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The way you left that day, it was so sudden, and I was worried I’d scared you off. Then when you called about Howard’s parents, I’m just not sure quite what to think about that. Did you follow up with his father by any chance?”
I realize Ruth is one of them, and fury stirs in the back of my brain. I can’t show my hand as of yet. Not until it’s the right time.
I take another sip of wine and let the mild alcohol take me away.
“No, I haven’t; we both know Howard was an only child. It wouldn't make much sense to harass him about his son.”
We sit in silence for a short while and drink our wine. She looks to be enjoying the moment while I think of a reason to get out of the house.
“Well?” Ruth purrs. “Should we go to the bedroom?”
I finish the wine in a single gulp and stand. “I guess so.”
“Are you all right?” Ruth asks. “You don’t sound so sure.”
“I’m fine,” I say with a nod. “It’s just been some time.”
Ruth smiles and takes my hand. She leads me to her room, and before I know it, all her clothes have fallen off her. I stare at her bare body, taking in all the shapely curves of her form. She’s a wonderful-looking woman, the sort I’d have killed for in my younger days.
Ruth places her hands on my chest and undoes the buttons of my waistcoat and shirt. Biting her lip, she places a kiss on my chest and works her way down, working at my belt and pants. I flinch at the disappointment she’s bound to find down there.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, seeing me un-erect.
“Might be the wine,” I say, coming with the only excuse I can think up.
Ruth shakes her head. “One glass wouldn’t do that to you.”
I don’t know what to say. I try to think of any other excuses, but my mind blanks and my tongue fumbles in my mouth.
“Do you not like me?’ she asks, placing my hands on her bosom.
�
�It’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know what it is.”
Ruth frowns, looks down at my limp excuse and soon gives me a sweet smile. “It’s normal. From what I hear, all men your age start having problems down there.” She kisses me on the lips and wraps her arms around me, dragging me to the bed. “I won’t take it personally.”
I lay with her for a while before collecting my clothes and redressing. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s quite all right,” she says. “You can make it up to me.”
I shake my head. “I suppose you’ll tell Moses I didn’t go through with it or couldn’t. Take your pick.”
“Tell who? Who is Moses?”
“Don’t play dense,” I say. “I know you’re working an angle with him, and you’re trying to get me compromised.”
“Is that why you . . ?”
I shake my head. “No, I can’t because I can’t believe a woman would act in such a way so soon after her husband died.”
Ruth frowns as her eyes shoot daggers.
“You came here for that reason. Because of the way I acted. What? Are you going to ask me if I have any shame? Are you going to ask me what the neighbours would think if I have a man over? I’ll tell you, Thomas, I tried seducing you because I was attracted to you. I didn’t know you were with someone else. And the neighbours? Like I care what they say about me anymore. I’m already a pariah for being a divorcee; might as well add seductress to that list. What difference does it make at this point? As for Howard, he was a worm of a man who left me and wouldn’t have said a word if I hadn’t hired you to get him to talk to me. I’m sorry if his death doesn’t make me emotional. I’m sorry if I want nothing to do with him ever again, and the fact that you continue to remind me of him and his death makes me sick. But I was willing to look past that because I thought you were a good man. But I guess I was wrong.”
I look down at the floor. I want to apologize, but I fear it would bring her back to me. If she’s telling the truth, it would be wise for her to be as far from me as possible. If she’s lying, her speech is the most believable chewing-out act I’d ever received.
“I’m going to go.”
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