Atoms of Death

CHAPTER XV LUKE MAKES A DEAL

“CULLY FREER is outside, Luke.”

“Show him, in, Beef. And listen: nobody’s to know he’s been here. Savvy? Nobody.”

“That goes, Luke.”

Luke Cardiff settled back in the chair behind his desk. He glanced at a clock and noted the time as half past five. A smile showed on Luke’s long-jawed face. Early for customers to be coming to the Club Cadilly. That was to Luke’s liking.

Beef had gone out into the deserted gambling room. When the fat-faced lookout returned, he was accompanied by a stocky, square-visaged man whose ugly features showed a scar that circled one eyebrow in a course from forehead to cheek.

“Sit down, Cully,” ordered Luke. “Outside, Beef.”

Cully took a chair and eyed Luke suspiciously. The gambler made no comment until after Beef had gone. Then, in a dry tone, he remarked:

“Nice job you did last night, Cully. You always were a great guy for handing the bulls a bum steer.”

Cully scowled; then shrugged and delivered a slight laugh.

“Don’t get you, Luke,” he scoffed “What is this — some kind of a game? Bringing me up here to spring some boloney?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” assured Luke. “You were covering for Matt Theblaw, up at that Fifth Avenue jewelry store. Pulling a blind while Loco Zorgin was getting his over by the East Side Bank.”

“You mean I was in with the guy that grabbed the rocks?” queried Cully as if in surprise. “Say — what use have I got for sparklers? D’you think I’d want to take a chance like that?”

“You wouldn’t have cracked the place yourself, Cully. That isn’t your racket. But covering up is your old bet. That’s why I sent Tony down to tell you I wanted to see you.”

“Nix, Luke. I don’t get it.”

Luke straightened behind his desk. His face wore a hard look; one that made Cully stare. Emphatically the gambler drove fist to woodwork, so hard that the desk clock jounced.

“You’re going to get it, Cully!” growled Luke. “Listen, you mug! I’m talking straight — telling you something for your own good. First off, Matt Theblaw and I used to be like that. You know that much, don’t you?”

Cully nodded as he saw Luke raise his hand and cross two fingers. Like others in the underworld, the scar-faced rowdy knew that Matt Theblaw and Luke Cardiff had been pals.

“All right,” assured Luke. “We never split, Matt and I. We used to think alike. We still do, even though we’re in different rackets. Whatever either of us would be doing, the other might be. Savvy that?”

Again a nod from Cully.

“If I’d been picking some gazebo to head a mob of mine, the first bet would have been Stinger Lacey. It wasn’t long ago, Cully, that Stinger got his. My second bet would have been Loco Zorgin. He took it last night.

“Matt would have made the same picks as I would” — Luke’s eyes were narrowing — “and if either of us had lost Stinger and Loco, the third guy we’d have used was you. Get that, Cully?

“You know who bumped Stinger, don’t you? I’ll tell you. It was The Shadow. And who got Loco? The same guy. And who’s going after you next? I’ll tell you: The Shadow! Listen, Cully, how much is Matt paying you to take it on the chin?”

CULLY’S mouth had widened. Half nervous, the mob leader started to say something, and then stopped. Luke chuckled.

“Come on, bo,” he suggested. “Spill it. I’m wise. I’m a pal of Matt’s. You’re not going to tell me anything that’ll hurt Matt’s racket. But maybe you’re going to fix it so I can help yours.”

“All right,” decided Cully, shifting. “Maybe I am workin’ for Matt. But that don’t mean nothin’, Luke. I ain’t even seen him. When I hear from him, it’s over a telephone down at Crazy Tochler’s pool room. Supposin’ Matt did sign up. That don’t mean I know anythin’.”

“I get that much,” chuckled Luke. “Matt always was close-mouthed. I didn’t think you’d know how he was working. I don’t know myself. He’s got some swell racket, that’s all. But it’s a cinch you’ve heard from Matt and that you’re going to hear from him again. That’s why I called you in — so you could hand him a tip from me!”

“I’ll do that, Luke.”

“All right. Listen, Cully. There was a guy came in here not long after Stinger took the bump. You know the bird; his name is Cliff Marsland. He told me he was close to Stinger. He’d found out that Stinger was working for Matt Theblaw. Marsland was supposed to have signed up; with Stinger out, he wanted to know who might be taking Stinger’s place.”

“And you told him?”

“Yeah. I was a dub. I named Loco Zorgin. That same night, Loco ran into it tough over by the Colonnade Trust Company. Marsland dropped in again; said he hadn’t got in touch with Loco, but it looked like Loco must have handled that mob. Said he hoped maybe he could get a hold of Loco later.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know. But we’d talked about The Shadow, Marsland and I, and it looked like maybe The Shadow had started that mess for Loco’s outfit. Well, last night, Loco and a bunch got wiped out. Joe Cardona took the credit.

“But I read the newspapers pretty close” — Luke indicated a stack beside his desk — “and I figured more than the bulls did. What was the idea of fixing up a coal bin like a pill-box? The bulls say it was to cover while charges were being set off to blow the East Side Bank. They say there was a premature explosion upstairs in the house.

“Boloney! Look at these pictures. It was a pineapple wrecked the front of that house! Loco Zorgin wasn’t there to cover up anything. That joint was rigged like a trap, to nab The Shadow. They had him between the pill-box and the pineapple heaver. But something went wrong.

“Because who was it bumped Loco? It couldn’t have been the bulls. The mob turned yellow and gave up. The Shadow was in on that deal. Matt knew he was trailing Loco and gave Loco the job of fixing him. Loco flopped. But I’m telling you something that Matt don’t know. I’m wise to how The Shadow got on Loco’s trail. Leastwise, I’ve guessed it.”

“How?” queried Cully, eagerly.

“Marsland’s working with The Shadow,” confided Luke. “I told the guy too much. But he told me too much. It’s even. He claimed he was once with Stinger; said he wanted to get with Loco. Well, there’s Stinger and Loco. One and one. How many does that make, Cully?”

“One and one’s two.”

“You’re right. Two: Cliff Marsland and The Shadow.”

Cully’s smile was not a pleasant one. The mob leader was experiencing qualms.

“I want to close this gambling joint of mine,” Luke said. “I want to get in with Matt. And I’ll make it worth while for him. I’ll do more than hand Marsland a bum steer. I’ll bluff the guy so good that I’ll snake him right out from wherever he is and bring him in to Matt.

“That’ll bring me and Matt together, with one of The Shadow’s stoolies in our claws. We’ll put the heat on Marsland and make him blab. That way, we’ll get The Shadow. So all you’ve got to do is put Matt wise. Relay his answer through to me. Call me here from the pool room. We’ll arrange it right.”

CULLY considered. An idea was filtering through the mob leader’s brain. Cully offered it as an objection.

“Say, Luke,” he volunteered, “It’d be a cinch for me to grab Marsland, with my mob. We could drag him somewhere where Matt could pick him up. If he got tough, we’d rub him out.”

“Yeah?” Luke’s tone was savage. “Get that pipe-dream out of your noodle, Cully. Keep your trap shut; spill nothing to nobody except Matt. Do you think The Shadow’s dumb enough not to be covering Marsland? Say — if you grabbed that guy in the open, you’d be in for it as bad as Stinger and Loco.

“I’m going to stall him. So neat that he won’t suspect nothing. Matt’s wise enough to know that, when you tell him what I’ve told you. I’m not naming you, Cully. Pass the news to Matt. Leave him think it over. Tell him I’ll bring in Marsland. Savvy it?”

Cully nodded. Luke Cardiff arose and shoved out a paw. Cully accepted it; then walked to the door. Luke urged him out with a parting warning.

“Don’t be seen sliding out of here,” said the gambler. “Get down to that place of yours and lie low. I want this word to get through to Matt. It’s going to mean a lot to both him and me.”

AFTER Cully Freer’s departure, Luke Cardiff busied himself in the gambling room. An hour passed; throngs began to arrive. While business increased during another hour, Luke kept strolling back and forth between the gaming room and the office.

Shortly before eight o’clock, Luke heard the jangle of the telephone. He entered the office and closed the door. Lifting the receiver, he recognized the voice at the other end. It was Matt Theblaw.

“Hello, Matt…” Luke was terse as he spoke to his old pal. “Cully wised you, eh? Good… Yes… Yes… All right, tomorrow night… Don’t worry about my end of the deal… Yes, I can fix it sweet… Just tell me where I’m to travel to… Yes… Yes… I’ve got it…

“All right. That’s a go… Sure, plant the bus and I’ll tell you where to have it… Down in Hoxler’s old garage, next to Nagan’s pawnshop… That’s right, the garage is empty… What’s that? Cully? Well, I don’t know… All right, he can call me… Sure, I’ll have him cover; but not too close… Leave it to me, Matt…”

Luke hung up. He plucked a cigar from his supply of perfectos and chuckled as he seated himself at the desk. A complete plan had formulated in his mind. That was fortunate, from Luke’s viewpoint, for while he pondered, the gambler heard a rap at the office door. When Luke growled to come in, the door opened and Cliff Marsland entered.

Luke received his visitor with a sour grin. As Cliff sat down, the gambler spoke the facts that seemed to be uppermost in his mind. They concerned the death of Loco Zorgin.

“Well, Marsland,” announced Luke, “we’ve lost another bet. I made a good enough guess, didn’t I? Picking Loco as the bird that Matt would use with Stinger gone.”

Cliff nodded soberly.

“It puts us back to scratch,” growled Luke. “And believe me, I’m feeling as sour as you are. I’d like to get in touch with Matt, and I’ve figured that if you make the contact, you can fix it for me. But with Loco out, it’s tough.”

“It looked like there were two jobs last night,” remarked Cliff casually. “Some mob was pulling a cover up at the Fifth Avenue jewelry store. Loco couldn’t have been handling that squad, too.”

“I know it,” agreed Luke, “and that’s our one bet, Marsland. I’ve been reading the newspapers” — he motioned to the side of the desk — “and I’ve been thinking it over. Only trouble is, I can’t believe it’s the guy I think it is.”

“Who is that?”

“Bats Dilladay. You’ve heard of him?”

“Sure. I thought he was in stir, though.”

“Got out of the Big House a month ago. Last I heard, he’d headed west. But I figure Matt must have gotten hold of him.”

“Why?”

“Because nobody could have moved out so neat as Bats did. He wasn’t as good a bet as Stinger, or Loco, because Bats hasn’t got the fight those bimbos had. But it looks like Matt was counting on Loco to draw the bulls after a phony job. That jewelry store needed careful covering.”

Cliff nodded.

“And Bats was the guy for it,” assured Luke. “So it’s a ten to one shot that Bats is somewhere around town. If he is, I’ll know it by tomorrow night. I know a couple of guys who’ll be able to tell me. See me about this time tomorrow, Marsland. I may have some dope for you then.”

“Suppose Bats is around. Where’ll he be?”

“In some hideout. That’s his usual system. Particularly now, since he’s been in stir. I’ll have it fixed so you can get to see him. Leave that to me.”

Cliff departed, satisfied. Luke sat back in his chair, smoking his perfecto. His long face showed a grin as his fingers flicked ashes on the floor. Luke chuckled.

For Luke Cardiff was one of the few persons who knew that “Bats” Dilladay had headed for Chicago and was lying low in that city, hoping to make some mid-West gang connection.

Craftily, Luke had set the stage for a perfect frame. One that Cliff Marsland had not even begun to suspect. Secretly, the old team of Matt Theblaw and Luke Cardiff was again in operation. Luke had paved the way for Matt to gain a new advantage over The Shadow.