Who Has Wilma Lathrop?

by Keene, Day

  Pete, fully dressed except for his suit coat, clomped down the stairs to the kitchen and repeated what his partner had said. “I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard your voice.”

  Lathrop’s grin was tight. “You fellows seem to be in a rut.”

  Pete cuffed him lightly. “You’re the guy who is in a rut. And this time we’ll make certain.” He glanced at his partner. “What’s with outside?”

  “Look around,” Charlie said. “Make sure he came alone. I don’t think he dared call the cops, but I also thought he was dead.”

  Pete eased the gun in his shoulder holster and picked his suit coat from a nail in the kitchen wall. “Always something. I was sure Wilma would talk by now and we could take off for the Coast in the morning. Now we got him in our hair again.”

  “We’ll comb him out,” Charlie promised.

  Pete closed the kitchen door behind him and disappeared into the night.

  “Hot, aren’t you?” Lathrop asked.

  “Plenty hot,” Charlie admitted. “But that’s our business, not yours.” He indicated a chair with his gun. “Now sit down until Pete comes back and we can figure what to do with you.”

  Lathrop took a step towards the stairwell. “Why don’t we go up and talk to Wilma while we’re waiting?”

  “I said sit down.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll put one right through you if you don’t.”

  Lathrop shook his head. “I doubt that. I doubt it very much. A heavy-calibred gun like that makes an awful lot of noise when it goes off. I know. I carried one for four years. And even in a crummy neighbourhood like this, one of the neighbours is certain to hear the shot and phone the police he heard gunfire at six-oh-one-nine Mercer Street.”

  “You’re a smart s. o. b., aren’t you?”

  Lathrop took another step towards the stairwell.

  Charlie reversed his revolver and held it as a club. “I took you twice. I can take you again.”

  Lathrop took still another step. “Aren’t you forgetting that both times you had a partner to help you?”

  “Pete will be back.”

  “Perhaps. But not in time.”

  Charlie sidestepped away from the stairwell. “Hit him with that tyre iron, Val. Take this monkey off my back.”

  Lathrop spoke without turning his head. “If I were you, I would stay out of this, Vladimir. That is, unless you helped kill Nielsen. This way, if something should go wrong, the most the police can charge you with is being an accessory after the fact.”

  Still watching Charlie, Lathrop listened for movement behind him. There was none. His estimation of Vladimir had been correct. The blond youth was an evil-minded, petty poolroom punk. As greedy for money as he was, he was afraid of the big time.

  Charlie continued to back away from Lathrop. He was having trouble with his taped-up broken nose. “Keep away from me. I’m warning you. I’ll beat in your head if you don’t.”

  Lathrop continued to advance. “Like you did to my janitor.”

  The backing man swung his gun and Lathrop sidestepped the blow easily. His head felt clearer than it had at any time since he had awakened to find Wilma gone. She was alive. She was here in this house. She loved him.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” he said. He stepped in under a second swing of the gun and smashed a series of hard blows to the other man’s face that ripped the adhesive tape off his nose.

  Blood dribbled down Charlie’s face and got into his mouth. “You schoolteaching son-of-a-bitch. When Pete comes back, well kill you.”

  “You tried that once,” Lathrop said. He followed up his advantage with a second series of hard blows to the face and heart. A particularly hard blow to the jaw glazed Charlie’s eyes. The revolver fell from his numbed fingers and thudded to the floor.

  Vladimir took a step towards it and Lathrop warned him, “Leave it alone.”

  Vladimir left it alone.

  Lathrop picked the gun from the worn linoleum and climbed the stairs to the second floor. There was a light in the rear room. The room door was partially open. Lathrop opened it all the way with his foot. Wilma, wearing a cheap cotton dress of the type he had seen on her feeble-minded sister, was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dull-eyed at the floor.

  “Hello, honey,” Lathrop said.

  The girl lifted her head and looked at him. “You were a fool to come here.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “For two reasons. One, the police think I killed you. The other is more personal.”

  Tears filled Wilma’s eyes and trickled down her puffed cheeks. Both of her cheeks were swollen. She asked, “After what you’ve heard about me?”

  “I haven’t heard anything so bad.”

  “Go away. Please.”

  “Not unless you come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?’

  “I lied to you.”

  “Outside of that — ”

  Heavy feet climbed the stairs and clomped down the hall. “I can tell you that,” Pete said. “Because she killed Raoul and Frenchy and lit out with the take from the Sutton Place job. Now, if you’re sensible you’ll drop that gun and see if you can make her tell where she hid the diamonds. If you can, it might just be that we’ll let both of you go.”

  Ignoring the man in the doorway, Wilma sat studying Lathrop’s face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  CHARLIE AND VLADIMIR followed Pete up the stairs. Vladimir had added a shirt and a pair of shoes to his costume. “Now wait a minute,” he said. “When I tipped off you guys where Wilma was hiding out, I didn’t figure on anything like this.”

  Charlie was having even more trouble with his nose. “That’s your tough luck. When you play in the big time, you got to take things as they come.”

  Vladimir looked as if he was about to cry.

  Charlie tried to mould his nose back in shape. “Gee, but you punch hard.”

  “I was trying to break your neck,” Lathrop admitted.

  Charlie looked at his partner. “You find anything outside?”

  “Nothing,” Pete told him. “He didn’t dare tip off the cops. He was afraid he’d burn if he did. He knew they wouldn’t believe him. He knew they would think he had been in touch with a lawyer and together they’d dreamed up that business in the Forest Preserve as part of his defence.” Pete continued to scowl at Lathrop. “Now how about dropping that gun? Sure, you might get me. You might even get Charlie. But that wouldn’t help Wilma. Ask her yourself. She’ll tell you.”

  Wilma looked back at the floor. “I didn’t kill Raoul. And I didn’t kill Frenchy.”

  “That’s your story,” Pete said. “Believe me, you’re being foolish, Lathrop. If you put up a fuss all you will do is get Wilma into serious trouble. And the kid is in love with you. She loved you enough to try to take a powder when we sent her that five grand and that phony message for her to meet us at Louie’s.” He stuck a cigarette between his lips with his free hand. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You get her to tell where she has the stuff tucked away and we’ll give you that five grand we sent her and you two can make a run for it.”

  Wilma said, “He’s lying. As soon as they get their hands on the diamonds, they’ll kill both of us. That’s why I’ve kept them so long.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Charlie said. “That would knock down the mock-up we’ve set up. You’re already dead.”

  “Then you’ll kill Jim and take me with you.”

  Charlie fingered a deep scratch on his face. “Uh-uh. You’re too hard. Some guys might like to fight. I don’t. Trying with you is like trying with a wildcat. Like Pete said, you tell us where the stuff is and we’ll give you that five grand back and you and your boy friend can make a run for it.”

  “Not my boy friend. My husband.”

  “Your husband, then.”

  Wilma wet her lips in indecision.

  Lathrop suggested, “Why not play
along with them?”

  “Because I don’t trust them.”

  “We can’t be any worse off than we are.”

  “Now you’re being smart,” Pete said. “That shows the value of a college education.”

  Lathrop laid the gun he was holding on a chair. “It doesn’t seem we have much choice. For my sake, Wilma.”

  Wilma looked at him for a long moment. “The diamonds are in the trap of the wash tubs in the basement. I was trying to get at them when they surprised me. Then Nielsen made a late tour of his fires and walked in on them struggling with me.” She shuddered. “And they sapped him until he was dead.”

  Charlie picked he gun from the chair and returned it to his shoulder holster. “Those things happen. We didn’t have anything against the guy. He just stuck his nose in at the wrong time. O.K., you two. Let’s get going. We only have a couple of hours of dark left.”

  Vladimir asked, “How about me?”

  “You’re coming, too,” Charlie said. “I don’t trust you as much as I did. If we left you here alone, you might chicken out.”

  Vladimir protested, “But how about Vilna and the old man?”

  “They’ll keep. All the old man cares about is his jug.”

  “But Vilna — ”

  Pete grimaced. He slapped Vladimir with the back of his free hand. “Now stop arguing and do as you’re told.” He motioned Wilma to her feet. “Let’s get going.”

  Wilma looked down at the thin cotton dress. It was her only garment. “Like this?”

  “You can wear your sister’s coat. Just like you did when we brought you here.” Pete gestured impatiently. “Come on. Like Charlie says, it will be light in a few hours.”

  “And after I give you the diamonds?”

  “You and Lathrop can go your way and we’ll go ours.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s a chance you’ll have to take.” Pete prodded Wilma and Lathrop down the upper hall and down the stairs. Vladimir followed sullenly. Vilna had opened the downstairs bedroom door and was standing in the doorway, yawning and stretching as unconcerned as if she was alone in the house.

  “You see,” Wilma said fiercely, “why I never talked about my family.”

  “I see,” Lathrop said.

  Vladimir crossed the kitchen to the bedroom and picked a cloth coat from a hook just inside the door. The girl mewed at him quizzically. “Go back to bed,” he told her. “I have to go out with Wilma and these guys.”

  Vilna walked back to the bed meekly and crawled under the covers. Vladimir tossed the cloth coat to Charlie, then locked the bedroom door and put the key in his pocket. “I still get my share?”

  “Of course,” Charlie assured him. “If it hadn’t been for you we’d never have known where Wilma was hiding out.” His voice held grudged admiration. “Not a bad idea at that. Who would ever think of looking for a big-time moll hiding out as a schoolteacher’s wife.”

  Wilma looked sideways at Lathrop. “It wasn’t entirely that.”

  “I know,” Lathrop said. “But you should have told me.”

  “I was afraid I’d lose you,” she said simply.

  The frame house shook as a loaded freight train rumbled by across the street. The unshaded light bulb hanging from the kitchen ceiling by a twisted green cord swung with the vibration.

  “You take Val with you,” Pete said. “I’ll ride with Wilma in Lathrop’s car. That way we’ll be ready to take off as soon as we finish playing plumber.”

  “Right,” Charlie said. “In the trap of the wash tubs. The kid’s good. She should have stayed in the racket.”

  He and Vladimir left by the back door. Pete motioned Wilma and Lathrop down the unlighted hall. “And no monkey business, Lathrop. You called it before when you asked if we are hot. Charlie and I are both so hot that what happens from here on doesn’t matter.” He transferred the barrel of the gun he was holding to the small of Wilma’s back. “And you might keep in mind, no matter how much she loves you, a dead doll is a very poor partner.”

  Wilma squeezed his arm. “They aren’t going to let us go,” she said. “But if they do …” It was an unspoken promise.

  “Open the door,” Pete ordered. “And walk directly to your car.”

  Lathrop opened the door and stood in the doorway reaching into his right coat pocket.

  “Now what?” Pete asked suspiciously.

  Lathrop took a package of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “I want a smoke. I think I have one coming to me.”

  Pete was amused. “Maybe you have at that. O.K. It’s lit. Get going. A shame, huh?”

  “What’s a shame?”

  “That gag you pulled when you first came in about having the joint surrounded with cops. A few cops would come in handy right about now, eh?”

  “They would at that,” Lathrop admitted.

  A car driving without lights rounded the near corner and the Oldsmobile that Lathrop had seen parked behind the board fence stopped beside Lathrop’s car. Charlie rolled down the window.

  “Watch yourself,” he warned his partner. “Everything is clear as far as I can tell, but I don’t like the feel of the neighbourhood.”

  “In what way?” Pete asked.

  Charlie thrust his head out the window and looked back the way he had come. “How can you describe a feeling? It’s too quiet and too dark. The only things moving are those damn freight hogs.”

  “You’re just jumpy.”

  “Could be.” Charlie flicked on his lights. “The kid and I will meet you at the three-flat. We’d better go in the back way.”

  Pete opened the wheel door of Lathrop’s car. “You drive. We’ll keep Wilma between us.”

  Lathrop did as he was told. Charlie had been right about the night. It was too still. There were no lights in any of the houses. The motionless cars parked at the kerb looked like so many dark tombstones rising out of the grimy snow. Wilma began to cry. “They won’t let us go. They’ve been after me for two years. That’s one of the reasons they killed Raoul.”

  “They killed him?”

  “Yes.”

  “They say you did.”

  Wilma cried even harder. “I didn’t. But I can’t prove it. That’s why I ran away.”

  “I’m beginning to see,” Lathrop said. “You got out while you could and took the jewels for insurance.”

  “Some insurance,” Pete grunted. “We’ve been looking for her for seven months. We never would have found her if Vladimir hadn’t gotten greedy and got in touch with us.”

  Her voice muffled, Wilma said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Lathrop drove enjoying the warmth of Wilma’s body beside his. Even wearing his glasses, he couldn’t see the street lamps clearly. On the corner of Lockwood Avenue, they met a marked police car headed the other way. Neither of the officers in the prowl car even turned their heads. Closer to Kedzie Avenue, a big black squad car passed them as if they were standing still.

  Pete was amused. “You’re driving the cops nuts, teacher. I was listening to the short wave band before and the only place you ain’t been seen is in the Field Museum.”

  Lathrop turned on the radio in his car. Over the crackle of static the P.D.C. announcer confirmed what Pete had said. Cars were constantly being dispatched to all sections of the city to check on reports he had been seen in a bar, a lunchroom, a hotel lobby, lurking in back of a building.

  “See what I mean?” Pete chuckled.

  Lathrop turned off the radio. “Yes. I see what you mean.” He turned north on Kedzie Boulevard. “Shall I park in front or in the alley?”

  “In the alley,” Pete said. “Just in case there’s a stakeout. Although no one was watching the building while Charlie and I were waiting for you.”

  Lathrop drove down the unlighted alley and parked in back of the three-flat. Charlie and Vladimir had already arrived and were waiting inside the gate.

  “All clear,” Charlie reported. “I checked both the front and
the back. Although when that squad car passed us I thought we’d had it.”

  Pete prodded Wilma down the walk. “Let’s go get them, baby. We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

  “Then you’ll let us go?”

  “Of course.”

  The boiler-room door was unlocked. The room was comparatively warm. Even with the fire banked for the night a cheerful rim of red edged the steel door of the firebox and was reflected in the ashes in the pit.

  Pete switched on the flashlight he’d brought with him and played it around the basement until he located the wash tubs. “You got a Stillson wrench?” he asked Lathrop. Lathrop told him where the wrench was and the gunman handed it to Vladimir. “O.K. Earn your cut. Go on. Unscrew the trap.”

  Vladimir used the wrench on the bent pipe, removed the pipe from the tubs and pounded it on the floor. A small packet wrapped in oilskin fell out on the cement.

  Charlie sucked in his breath. “Gee! Am I glad to see that.”

  He started to scoop up the packet and Pete said, “Make sure it’s what we’re after.”

  Charlie unwrapped the packet and the many facets of a handful of unset diamonds gleamed in the beam from the flashlight.

  “It’s them all right,” Pete said. “Put them in your pocket and let’s get out of here.”

  Still kneeling on the cement, Vladimir asked, “Hey. How about me?”

  “I’m sorry, kid,” Pete told him.

  “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

  “You’re coming with us, at least a part of the way. You got more chicken in you than we figured. Besides, we can’t afford to have a punk trying to fence diamonds as hot as these.”

  Wilma’s voice was barely audible. “And Jim and I?”

  “You too.”

  “But you promised.”

  “So we promised.”

  Pete took a knife from his pocket and cut a length of clothes line hanging in the basement and tossed the line to Charlie. “Bend that around Lathrop’s wrists. Just in case he tries to make like a hero.”

  Lathrop permitted his hands to be tied behind his back. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you that you’re not going to get away with this.”