42 Days For Murder

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Three C Club was jammed solid when we got there. There was a car parked just before we got to it and Macintosh slowed, then stopped by it. He said:

“We’ll go in first. The three of us. But we’re liable to have trouble and need help. It’s here.”

This was a new one on me and I said so. Kirby hadn’t expected this and mentioned the fact. Lester didn’t have the faintest idea of what was going on and so said nothing. Macintosh climbed out and said: “We might as well walk in from here. One of the boys will drive my car to the front. I want to go in the back way while you and Connell go in the front.”

“Who are the boys?” I asked.

I could see Macintosh’s grin in the car lights. “I’m a deputy-sheriff, ain’t I? I just deputized a few of my friends. I’ve got that right. We’re maybe going to need ’em. If we take any prisoners we’ll have to have some help in getting them back.”

I looked at my watch and saw it was eleven twenty. I said: “We’ve got forty minutes left, is all.”

“That’ll be plenty. Heinie, drive my car to the front for me, will you? You boys know what you’re supposed to do.”

A little short bald-headed man climbed from the parked car and said: “Sure, Len! We’ll be watching.” He got in our car and Lester said: “Shean, what will I do?”

Macintosh answered for me. He said: “You’ll stay in the car, son. This is going to be no place for you.” And aside, to me: “I hope it won’t be anyway. You and Kirb go in the front way. He knows who to look for and you must have an idea.”

I said I had. He moved toward the back of the place, hauling out an old single-action .45, and Kirby and I gave him a couple of minutes to get around to the back and then went in the front.

We must have looked like business because Gino Rucci saw us and started toward the back. Kirby gave one look at the crowd at the bar and started to call out names. He said: “You Bates! You Wilson! Sangini! Ellis! Get back from that bar and along the wall. Jump now.”

He didn’t have a gun in sight but the four men moved away from the bar and against the wall. I said:

“You got it under control. I’m going back.”

He nodded and said, without looking away from the four he’d picked: “Okey, go head.”

I followed Rucci into the back room. He was almost at the back door when I saw him, and I stepped to one side, so my back would be against the wall, and cleared the gun from under my coat. Just in case. Rucci opened the back door, looking over his shoulder at me, and started out. He ran into Macintosh, who was standing there. Macintosh just reached a hand out and shoved, and Rucci, who still had his head craned back over his shoulder, twisted and fell on the dance floor. Macintosh said: “And now?”

I just happened to turn my head toward the booth at my right, one that was facing the back door, and I saw a dark, ugly-looking monkey come out with a gun. He held it just under the edge of the table, where Macintosh couldn’t possibly have seen it, but in plain sight from where I was. He was with a red-headed girl and I could hear him growl:

“Beat it, kid! It’s a sneeze I think.”

The red head got out of the booth in a hurry and went past me and out in the front and I watched the dark man until I saw he wasn’t going to start anything but was just waiting.

And then I looked toward the door again.

Rucci had twisted around until he was on his knees and one hand. He was only about ten feet from Macintosh and he had to bend his fat neck up to see him. He was just braced there, staring up, but one hand was fumbling back of him.

Macintosh maybe couldn’t see the hand but he knew what it was doing. He just stood there waiting, one hand propped against the door casing and the other out of sight. All he wanted was for Rucci to make one move and it looked as though Rucci was going to make it.

Rucci was in no hurry, though. He kept staring up at Macintosh, fumbling underneath the back of his coat. I looked at the bird at my right and saw he was half standing but that the gun was still below the table. He knew what was coming as well as I did, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

I looked past him then and right into the eyes of my Spanish effect. She was sitting facing me and her mouth was open and her cheeks were so pale the rouge stood out in patches on them. Mrs. Wendel was sitting alongside of her and I could see a hefty arm and shoulder on my side of the booth that could only belong to Lester’s Hazel. Mrs. Wendel apparently hadn’t noticed me but was staring at Rucci and Macintosh. Hazel of course was facing away from me. But all Spanish could see was me and I took my left hand and waved her to be quiet.

Most of the company appeared to be in some doubt of what was going on but there were three men in one booth and two in another that were wise.

The three were the same type; flashy and city. The two were old timers; men around sixty. I figured the three for friends of Rucci’s and decided I’d take the bird on my right first, then switch to them.

Rucci had been on the floor for maybe ten seconds but it seemed an hour. Maybe a bit longer than ten seconds, but certainly not twice that. The red-headed girl that had been in the booth at my right hadn’t had time to get to the bar. I could see Rucci’s hand clear his coat tails; and could see the light flash on the gun it held: and then Macintosh said:

“Okey! Okey! It’s the pay-off!”