The Fall Guy

by Joe Barry

  After a while he helped her back into the bedroom and onto the bed. Her face was ghastly with a sickly pallor as she looked up at him.

  “Lie there till you get settled,” he said and abruptly turned toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked quickly “Into the other room,” he said. “I don’t like the liquor stink in here.”

  “Come here a minute,” she said.

  Rush looked at her for a moment then reluctantly walked to stand beside the bed.

  “Here,” she said and patted the bed beside her.

  He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. She looked up at him from red-rimmed eyes and smiled the secret little smile of a child who has been bad and intends to be bad again. Then her arms went up around his neck and she half pulled him down, half pulled herself up, to kiss him full on the lips. Her half-open mouth was clinging and her arms strained around him to pull him close. For a moment Rush was too surprised to react. Then with a shudder of revulsion he jerked away, pulling her arms from behind his head. She smiled up at him as he stepped back from the bed. It was a smile that was half leer and half the smile of a victor. Rush felt that she thought she had just won a battle.

  “You liked that,” she said.

  “The hell I did,” Rush said and stalked into the living room, slamming the door behind him.

  He was still on his feet pacing the floor, wondering how to get her out of the apartment, when a knock sounded on the door. He opened it and Hope slipped into the room. She stood just inside the door looking at him. He knew he looked a mess. She saw the cigarette between his lips and the half-dozen butts littering the ashtray on the coffee table.

  “Getting anxious?” she asked.

  Rush looked at her for a moment. “No,” he said and stubbed out his cigarette with a vicious stab at the ashtray.

  She tried another opening. “Is this the way you usually receive ladies?”

  “No,” said Rush, “but I seem to receive a lot of females this way.”

  It dawned on Hope that she wasn’t the full cause of his state.

  “What’s the matter, Rush?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

  Rush let his eyes meet hers, then suddenly the humor of the situation caught him. His face loosened in a slow smile. “No,” he said, “nothing happened, but it almost did.” He nodded at the bedroom door. “Take a look in there,” he said.

  With a questioning look over her shoulder Hope went to the bedroom door and opened it. She looked into the room. Rush wished he could have seen her face. He came to look over her shoulder. What he saw startled him into an abrupt oath. Haphazardly flung around the room were the clothes Leslie had worn. The girl herself was under the covers on his bed, one bare arm outflung, sound asleep.

  Hope looked up over her shoulder at Rush.

  “What are you protecting her from?” she asked.

  “Nothing, right now,” said Rush. He stalked into the room and shook Leslie by one bare shoulder. “Wake up,” he said.

  Leslie stirred, moaned, and writhed comfortably under the covers. One eye opened tentatively and looked up at him. “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello, hell,” he said. “Get out of there and get your clothes on.”

  Both eyes opened and focused. She saw Hope in the doorway and sat bolt upright. Rush stepped back and averted his eyes. Under the covers there had been nothing but Leslie, at this moment a very mad Leslie.

  “I see,” she said. “I see, you want room for another woman.”

  “All I want,” said Rush, “is you to, get your clothes on and get out of here.”

  “I won’t. I won’t leave and let you—“ She recognized Hope. “I know her. She’s a friend of Paul’s.”

  “Yes,” said Rush, “she is. Now get out of there.”

  “I won’t. I won’t leave you here with that woman.”

  Hope took two strides across the room and slapped Leslie sharply across the mouth. With the same motion she jerked the covers off the bed and grabbed the girl by the arm pulling her onto the floor. “You heard him,” she said. “Get dressed or we’ll dress you.”

  Leslie slowly lifted one hand to her cheek where dull red streaks outlined Hope’s hands.

  “You slapped me,” she said wonderingly.

  “Yes,” said Hope. “And I’ll do it again and harder if you don’t get your clothes on and get out of here. Now jump.”

  Slowly, as if hypnotized, Leslie reached for her clothes. Rush, a startled grin still on his lips, slipped unobtrusively out of the room. In the living room he lit a cigarette and leaned back in a chair to wait.

  A few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Leslie came into the room closely followed by Hope. Leslie walked over to stand in front of Rush.

  “I ought to hate you for this,” she said in a dull voice. “I ought to want to kill you. But I don’t. I’ll wait to get what I want.”

  Without another word she turned and walked out of the room. Rush looked at the blank door that closed after her and then at Hope.

  “That girl scares me,” he said.

  “She scares me, too,” said Hope. “She didn’t say she didn’t want to kill me. I’ll watch myself in dark alleys after this.” She came over and sat on the arm of Rush’s chair. “You have some lipstick right here,” she said, touching the corner of Rush’s mouth. “Maybe I’m the one who should leave.”

  Rush grimaced. “She came up here and knocked on the door. I thought it was you and let her in. She was tight and passed out. I brought her around and laid her on the bed to rest a minute. She had other ideas. She wanted to neck. I left, but quick. Hell, she had all her clothes on when I left her.”

  Hope smiled an infuriating smile. “You poor, mistreated guy. Women fighting to get into your bed-how can you ever get any sleep?”

  Rush felt that the situation was getting out of hand. He grabbed the reins. “I manage,” he said. “Now, let’s talk about you. When are you going to give me the rest of the story about the emeralds?”

  Hope got up from the arm of Rush’s chair and went to the divan. She sat down, crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. Rush watched her in amusement, knowing she was thinking of a story that would fit what she thought he knew and still keep him on her side. He waited.

  “Pour me a drink,” she asked.

  Rush went to a cupboard and brought out a bottle of rye. “Straight?” he asked her.

  “Water on the side,” she said.

  He ran a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen. The two glasses he set on the coffee table before her, then he went back to his chair and sat down.

  “Well?” he said.

  Hope took a sip of the rye and chased it with water. “There isn’t a lot to tell,” she said. “There are two emeralds, monstrous ones. Young Germaine brought them to Chicago from San Francisco. Brin wanted them and Jago wanted them. Brin thought Jago had them. Jago didn’t know who had them. He just knew that somebody had got them and brought diem to Chicago. He ran across Germaine through a connection here, and Wilmer and I went after young Germaine.”

  Rush lit a cigarette and looked through the smoke at Hope. “Who knocked over Germaine?” he asked.

  Hope raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How would I know? Wilmer, maybe—or Brin.”

  “How did Brin get on to Germaine?”

  “I don’t know. He’s a lone wolf. He probably followed Wilmer and saw him following Germaine— say—“ A thought struck her. “Maybe he did kill Germaine. That’s the kind of thing he would do. He feels that anybody who crosses him is sinning against something holy. He’s a fanatic. Nobody knows what he does with his money. He never spends any, and yet I know of almost half a million dollars he has taken, in the last five years. He never touches anything unless it is big.”

  Rush nodded. That sounded like the strange man with the somber clothes and ministerial mien. He sensed the strange compulsion that moved the tall, thin man. “Okay,” he said. “Now, how do we get the emeralds?”

&nbs
p; Hope smiled a wary smile. “Not quite so fast. I have to find a way out of the middle. If I get the emeralds I’ll have everybody after me. Jago wouldn’t rest till he got me if I double-crossed him. And Brin will never stop until he gets the stones. I have to have a way out.”

  Rush wondered where he came in. “Yes,” he said, “you have to have a way out, and we’ll find one. But are you sure you can get the emeralds?”

  Hope nodded. “I don’t know where they are but I’m sure who has them.”

  “Who?”

  She shook her head. “No, not yet. I don’t know where you stand. You’re working for old man Germaine.”

  “I’m also working for you.”

  “Are you?”

  “So far,” said Rush.

  Hope was silent for a long moment. “If I get the gems,” she said, “will you go away with me?”

  Rush hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Just what I said. There’s a lot of money tied up in those stones. You could make a legitimate sale. The money would keep us both in luxury for a long time. You’re not getting rich here. Throw in with me and we’ll both get rich.”

  Rush looked at her. Her crossed knees exposed a length of superior leg and Rush had always been partial to superior legs. The rest of her was in keeping. Face, figure, all were superior. She would not, he decided, be hard to take. It was the best offer he had had in a long time. He said as much. “You interest me,” he said. “But I’ve got to take care of something else before I can leave this town.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve got to find a fall guy. I’m tied in so deeply with young Germaine’s death now, that I’ve got to come up with a killer. Otherwise they’ll hunt me down as sure as I’m alive. Old Germaine would never rest till he got me if I double-crossed him. If I leave, I’ve got to leave clean.”

  Hope frowned. “Can’t you frame Wilmer or Brin? They both had opportunity and motive.”

  Rush shook his head. “Jago alibis Wilmer and in either case you’d have a hell of a time proving motive without dragging everybody in. It has to be a tighter frame than I can hang on either of them right now. Besides, I’m not sure that either of them did it.” Hope made a disgusted noise in her throat. “Are you growing scruples at this late date?”

  Rush grinned. “No,” he said, “these are just some old ones I had kicking around.” He looked at the clock. “It’s three o’clock. Shouldn’t we go to bed?”

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  Rush stood up and looked down at her. “Yes, for now. When I get a murderer I’ll talk to you. That’s more important than the emeralds right now.”

  “Not to me,” said Hope.

  “It is to me. I’ll live, and eat regularly, if I never see those green rocks, but if I don’t turn up a killer I’ll be up to my neck with everybody. Get me a fall guy and I’ll help you get rid of the stones and maybe even help you spend the money. But first, I need a killer.”

  Hope stood up then. “Okay, that’s the way it is,” she said. “And maybe I can find your killer. What do you think of that?”

  “I think you can, and I think it would be fine if you did. When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow. Right now, I’m going to bed.” She looked at the bedroom door and back at the sofa. “Do you sleep all right there?” she asked.

  Rush grinned. “All right for now,” he said. “This won’t last forever.”

  14

  The sun shone brightly over Rush’s shoulder as he sat at his desk. He had left Hope asleep in his bed and had eaten breakfast an hour before his usual time. He felt that this would be a busy day. He didn’t know exactly what kind of business would make it busy, but he felt that things were due to happen. As a matter of fact, he intended to spend the day seeing that they happened. Deduction was a dull process and useless unless all of the facts were known. Rush realized that he was missing several important facts, that no one in the strange group, involved in the murder of Paul Germaine, Jr., had all the facts. He knew that the only way to get all the facts was to light fires under the individuals concerned. The facts would boil to the surface eventually.

  On the agenda he had listed in his mind were several important fires. To light them he needed fuel. He stabbed the button of the inter-office communicator. Gertrude answered.

  “Get me Carnahan on the phone,” he said.

  “Why don’t you dial him yourself? It takes less time.”

  “I know, you lovely creature, but it does nothing for my vanity. I like to think I’m an executive. It also impresses Carnahan. Call him and tell him Mr. Henry wishes to speak with him. Then wait twenty seconds and call me. Then shut your trap. And after this do what I tell you without so damn many questions.”

  “Yes, dear,” said Gertrude. He heard her mumbling to herself as she dialed the number of police headquarters. He heard her ask for Carnahan.

  “Mr. Carnahan,” she said, “Mr. Henry would like to speak to you. Will you hold the wire, please?”

  Rush grinned inwardly at the mental picture of Carnahan swearing into the phone. He waited his twenty seconds then picked up the extension phone on his desk.

  “Mr. Carnahan?” he said. “This is Mr. Henry.”

  “I know who it is, you dough head. Who do you think you are, J. P. Morgan? What do you want?”

  “Why, Sam,” said Rush, “I was just being businesslike. I want information, of course. Did you get anything on those emeralds?”

  “Not a thing, Rush. If they’re in town they haven’t been here long or my pigeons would have a wire on them. What’s the dope on them anyway?”

  “Nothing that would do you any good: It’s a deal I don’t know enough about myself to tell you. Just keep your ears open. If anything turns up, let me know. You might let it out that they’re too hot to handle if anybody tries to turn them.”

  “What good does that do?”

  “It makes them burn whoever has them. I want them out in the open.”

  “For Pete’s sake, if they’re that hot, why can’t you tell me about them?”

  “No, Sam. Not yet. Just get the word out that they’re burning up. That’s all I need.”

  “All you need, why you ——, who in hell is the law around here, you or the Chicago police? Damn it, Henry, you sound like we were operating down here just for convenience.”

  “You are, I pay my taxes regularly.” Rush replaced the phone in its cradle, quite gently as it started to sputter like a live thing in his hands. He smiled and buzzed Gertrude.

  “Has Merwin been around?” he asked.

  “He phoned that he’d be in Barney’s if you needed him.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there for a while. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

  Rush found Merwin engrossed in a Racing Form with a fishbowl of beer at his elbow. Rush slid into the booth opposite him.

  “Got anything, Merwin?” he asked.

  “Sure thing, Rush. There’s a filly named Vermont Lassie in the fifth at Jamaica that’s a cinch.” He paused at Rush’s pained expression. “What’s the matter, Rush, ain’t she no good?”

  “Merwin, I put you on a job yesterday, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah, that—”

  “Well, have you got anything?”

  Merwin knit his brows in obvious concentration. “After I left Markio’s I hit a lot of spots. Most of them didn’t seem to have no idea what I was talking about. A couple of joints remember she was in, but she didn’t make no play. There was one place where I got a quick freeze when I mentioned her.”

  “Big Mick’s?” Rush asked.

  Merwin looked up in surprise. “Yeah, how’d you know, Rush?”

  “I heard a rumor. What happened there?”

  “I go in like all the other places and have a quick beer. Then I schmooz awhile with the boys. Then I drop a question or two. The minute I mention the girl’s name I get a chill.”

  “Was Big Mick there?”

  “No, just a
couple or three of his boys.”

  “Okay. Now tell me something about Big Mick. He’s fairly new out there, isn’t he? I don’t remember anything about him.”

  “He’s a guy from Detroit. He was just another guy with a rod up there I hear, but he came down here and made a couple of quick touches and puts himself up in business with this bar. Then he hires some torpedoes to work for him and does odd jobs on the side.”

  “What were the quick touches?”

  “I hear he had a piece of some furs that was lifted from out on Lake Street. He also might have got a couple of loads of whiskey that was hijacked when liquor was tight.”

  “How smart is he?”

  “How should I know, Rush?” Merwin looked puzzled. It wasn’t the kind of question he was used to answering. “He’s doing all right, I guess.”

  “Okay, Merwin. Now, listen. I’m going out there. If he’s just a muscle guy with no brains he may try to get tough. I don’t want to get tied up, so if you don’t hear from me by five this afternoon call Sam Carnahan and come after me. In the meantime, dig around and see if you can hear anything about a couple of emeralds. Find out if they’re hot and if anybody is trying to fence them. I’ll call you here at five o’clock if I’m loose. If I’m not, come spring me.”

  Rush found a cab cruising down State Street and gave the address of Big Mick’s bar. It was south on Halstead and the cab took the better part of half an hour in getting there. Rush paid the driver and Rush shrugged his shoulders.

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s your business.” He paused to light a cigarette. “I want to find out what Leslie Germaine was doing over here.”

  Big Mick froze, with a cigar halfway to his lips. Behind Rush the chatter of the card game hushed. Big Mick looked at Rush through narrowed eyes.

  “Cop?” he asked.

  Rush shook his head.

  “Private eye?”

  Rush nodded.

  “Who sent you?”