I'll Get You for This

1

“Do they know where you live?” I asked Miss Wonderly, as I shot the Buick out of the hotel garage.

She shook her head.

“Sure?”

“Yes. I changed my apartment a day or so ago. No one knows yet.”

“We’ll go there and get you some clothes,” I said. “Where is it?”

She clutched my arm. “No. Let’s get out of town. I’m scared.”

“We’ve got the time,” I said. “And you don’t have to be scared. They won’t get us if we use our heads. Now where is the place?”

“It’s at the corner of Essex and Merrivale.”

I nodded. “I know. I passed it as I came in.”

I pushed the Buick along, and I kept my eye on the mirror.

No one was following us—yet.

“You and I have a lot to talk about,” I said, casually. “Thank you for being on my side.”

She shivered. “Will they catch us?”

“They couldn’t catch a train,” I said, but I wasn’t all that happy. I wondered if they’d taken the number of my car at the hotel, and how soon it would be before the attendant gave it to Flaggerty. I wondered where in hell we were going to hole up, or if it’d be better to get out of town. . I didn’t want to get too far away because I was determined to go after Killeano. I had to be near at hand if I was going to bust him, and I was going to bust him all right.

“Listen, honey,” I said, in my soothing voice, “I want you to use your head. Is there anywhere

in town or near at hand where we could stay and be reasonably safe?”

She twisted around. “We’re going to get out of here,” she said wildly. “You don’t know what they’d do to me if they caught me.”

I patted her hand and nearly pushed in some guy’s fender who had pulled out suddenly from behind a truck. We cursed each other amiably.

“Now take it easy,” I said. “No one’s going to catch you. But we’re bucking the police, and they’ll seal up all the highways leading out of town. We shan’t get far with their two-way radio sets working against us. We’ll have to hole up until the heat’s cooled off. Then we’ll slide out one night, and blow.”

“We’d better go now,” she said, clenching her fists.

“Well be all right, but you must think. We want a nice snug hideaway for three or four days. Now think, and keep on thinking.”

While I was talking we reached Essex and Merrivale. I whizzed the Buick down Essex Street and nailed her before a shabby looking apartment block.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing the cigar box, “let’s hustle.”

We ran up the wooden steps to the house, and she led me up the stairs into a big bedroom overlooking the front of the house. She packed her things as if the devil was pricking her with his fork. She was so efficient that I just stood back and gave her room. In three minutes flat she had a big grip crammed full of the pick of her cupboard and drawers.

“Swell,” I said, grabbing the grip. “Now watch my dust,”

As I reached the head of the stairs, I paused. She clutched at my arm, looking at me with round eyes.

“What is it?” she whispered.

I motioned her to be quiet and listened. The radio was giving a police message. They were telling Paradise Palms to watch out for us.

“How do you like being called a blonde killer?” I asked, smiling at her.

She pushed past me and scurried downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, she stopped. A thickset man in his shirt sleeves had come out of the front room. He stood gaping at her.

“Hey, you,” he said, stepping up to her. “Not so fast. They want you!”

Miss Wonderly gave a startled squeak, spun on her heel and tried to bolt up the stairs, but he reached out and grabbed her.

“They want me too,” I said, coming down slowly.

The man let go of Miss Wonderly as if she’d bitten him. He stepped back, his face going a dirty white.

“I don’t know anything about anything, mister,” he said in H low, hoarse voice.

I smiled at him. “You don’t look as if you do,” I said, and put Miss WonderIy’s bag down. “Where’s your telephone, bud ?”

He waved his hand to the room from which he had just come. I jerked my head and he went in. I followed him. Miss Wonderly pressed herself against the wall. She didn’t look as cute as she had when she’d pressed herself against my hotel wall, but then, she was dressed this time. It makes a difference.

The room was, big and untidy. There were shutters up at the windows to keep out the sun.

An old woman was holding the telephone receiver to her ear. When she saw me, she gave a gasp, and dropped the receiver. It fell with a little crash on the table. Then she sat down heavily in a rocking-chair and threw her apron over her face. I thought she looked pretty dumb sitting like that, but it seemed to give her some comfort.

I took hold of the telephone and jerked. The cord came away from the wall, and I tossed the instrument on the floor.

“Now you won’t be able to talk to anyone about anything,” I said, winking at the man. “That’ll be a nice change for you.”

He jerked and shook and sweated plenty. I seemed to scare him.

I left them huddled and silent, and collected Miss Wonderly. She seemed scared too. Hell! I

was scared myself.

We ran down the steps, and I slung her bag into the car. We bundled in, and I shot out of Essex Street like a cat off a hot stove.

“Have you thought of a place, honey?” I asked, as we bolted along Ocean Drive.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Well, concentrate or else we’ll be in a jam.”

She banged her clenched fists together and started to cry. She was scared all right.

I looked across the Bay. The opalescent waters of the Atlantic and the Gulf were changing hues as clouds moved overhead. Scattered green islands gleamed like emeralds on an azure field. On the distant horizon the Gulf Stream pencilled a line of indigo, with here and there above it a smudge of grey smoke from the funnels of a passing steamer.

“How about those islands?” I said, slowing up. “Know any of them?”

She sat up, and her tears dried like magic. “Of course, the very place,” she said. “Cudco Key. It lies to the left of the islands, and it’s small. I know a shack there. I found it when I was out there once.”

“Fine,” I said. “If we can get there, that’s where we’ll go.”

I didn’t know where we were, but as we were heading in the same direction as the islands, I didn’t worry. We passed Dayden Beach, and I looked at the moored raft. It seemed a long time since we sat on it together. We kept on, and after a while I saw a wharf ahead. That gave me an idea.

“We’ll trade this car for a boat,” I said.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” she said. It came from the bottom of her heart.

I patted her knee. It was a nice knee, and she didn’t take it away, so I left my hand on it.

We stopped by the wharf and got out. I made sure my gun was handy, and I kept a firm grip on my cigar box. That was one thing I wasn’t losing. We looked around. There were a number of U Drive pleasure boats moored along the wharf, but they weren’t fast enough for me. I

wanted something that’d shake a police boat if it came to shaking police boats.

I found what I was looking for after a while. She was a trim thirty-foot craft; mahogany and steel and glistening brass. She looked very fast.

“That’s her,” I said to Miss Wonderly.

While we were looking at the boat, a fat little man came out of a house on the water-front, and hustled down to the boat. He gave us a hard look, then stepped on board.

“Hey!” I said.

He looked up, and climbed off the boat again. His face was burned nearly black by the sun, and his hair was bleached yellow-He didn’t look a bad guy in a tough, hard way.

“Want me?” he said, eyeing us over, then he grinned. “By Golly!”

I hunched my shoulders and grinned back.

“Not you—your boat,” I said.

“Chester Cain, by Jeese!” he said. He took elaborate precautions to keep his hands still and not to make any move, but he wasn’t scared.

“Sure,” I said.

“That’s okay with me,” he said. “The radio hasn’t let up for the past half-hour. The whole town knows you’re on the mn.” He eyed Miss Wonderly. She apparently made a hit, because he pursed his mouth in a soundless whistle. “So you want my boat?”

“That’s the idea,” I said. “I’m in a hurry, but I’m not going to rob you. Take my Buick and a grand?”

His eyes opened.

“Do I get the boat back?” •

“Sure, if they don’t sink her.”

“Sink her? They’ll never see her.”

His optimism made me feel good.

“She that fast?”

“Fastest boat on the coast. Fate was kind to you, sending you to me.”

“I guess so. So you’ll trade?”

He grinned. “I don’t want to, but I’ll trade. I never did like that buzzard Herrick anyway.”

“Sure this is your boat?” I asked.

“You bet. Tim Duval’s the name. I use her for Tunny fishing and other things. When you’re out of this jam, you come on a trip with me. You’ll like it.” He winked. “I’ll be glad to have her back, but keep her as long as you like. She’s gassed up and ready to go. She’ll take you to Cuba if you’re figuring on going that far.”

Miss Wonderly came staggering back with the two suit-cases. She wasn’t scared to make herself useful. She looked kind of cute in her blue crepe—like she was in a fancy dress, and it showed off her figure. Duval had trouble keeping his eyes off her. I had trouble too.

We dumped the grips on board, and then she ducked down into the cockpit.

“Get into the cabin, sweetheart,” I called. “It’ll be safer there.” I didn’t want anyone to see her as I pulled out along the long wharf.

She went into the cabin and shut the door.

“Want me to come along?” Duval asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “No.”

He shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “I’d sooner travel alone— with her. Nice, eh?”

“Huh uh,” I said, and gave him the keys of the Buick.

“You won’t have any trouble with that boat. She’s sweet to handle;” he said, taking the keys. “I’ll look after the heep for you.”

“Yeah, look after her,” I said.

“Sure will.”

I went aboard and started the engines.

Duval cast off the lines.

“I think Flaggerty’s a buzzard too,” he said.

That told me he wasn’t going to sell us out as soon as we were out of sight.

“So do I,” I said.

I spun the wheel and edged the boat through the narrows to the cut that led to the outer bay.

The swell was long, fairly easy. After a while I rounded the breakwater and we were in the bay.

I looked back.

Duval was waving. I waved back. Then I gunned the engine and the boat leapt forward with a roar, throwing water and cream-white foam.

2

Cudco Key was a tiny island five miles from the chain of islands skirting Palm Bay. It had a dazzling white beach bordered with coconut palms, white orchid trees, covered with pale white flowers delicately veined with green, and the woman’s tongue trees with their long slender pods in which seeds rattle monotonously at the slightest breeze. Further along the coast, and inland were mangrove and buttonwood thickets. Spires of smoke hung in the air where mangroves were being burnt for charcoal.

I ran the boat into the heart of the mangrove thickets, and I was fairly sure that no one would spot it from the sea.

We left our grips on board and we struck inland to find the shack.

Miss Wonderly had changed into bottle-green linen slacks, a halter and an orange wrap around to keep her curls in place. She looked cool and cute.

It was hot on the island, and I had stripped down to a singlet and gaberdine slacks, but I sweated plenty.

We kept to the thickets. Miss Wonderly said there were only a couple of dozen Conch fishermen living on the island, but we didn’t see any of them.

I got the surprise of my life when we found the shack. It not only commanded a fine view of Palm Bay and Paradise Palms in the distance, but it wasn’t a shack at all. It was a hurricaneproof house that had been built as an experiment by the Red Cross some years back in their drive to counteract storm damage.

These hurricane-proof houses are built like small forts. They’re made of reinforced concrete and steel; steel rods anchor the house to solid rock. The roof, floors and walls are of concrete, the walls a foot thick. All partitions extend from the roof through the house to bedrock. Window-sashes are of steel, with double-strength glass and double shutters. Wood is used only in the triple-strength cypress doors. Drain-pipes run from the roof to a cistern cut in the bedrock under the house, providing water in emergencies.

This house was on the far side of the island, and because of its exposed position no other dwelling was within two miles of it. It was a successful experiment, but no one lived in it now. I guess the Conchs preferred their wooden shacks or else someone was asking a high rent.

“Your shack, eh?” I said, looking at the place. “Some shack.”

Miss Wonderly clasped her hands behind her back, and raised herself on her toes. She admired the house.

“I only caught a glimpse of it from a boat,” she said. “I was told no one lived in it. I didn’t think it was as good as this.”

“Let’s try and get in,” I said.

It wasn’t easy, and in the end I had to shoot off the lock of the front door. The place was dirty and as hot as an oven, but after opening all the windows the air got better.

“We can make this pretty comfortable,” I said, “and it’s safe. Let’s have a look around.”

I found a small harbour that had been built while the house was under construction. Mangroves had overgrown it, and it was practically invisible. I only came upon it by nearly falling down the ramp that had been covered with dead foliage.

“This is terrific,” I said, after I’d cleared away the undergrowth. “We’ll get the boat round here and settle in. Come on, let’s go.”

As I steered the boat around the island, I came upon the village community dumped down on the east shore. There were three or four ketches moored to the sea wall, a dozen or so wooden shacks and a big wooden building that looked like a store.

“Stay in the cabin,” I said to Miss Wonderly. “I’m going in to get some provisions.”

There were a bunch of men standing on the sea wall as I edged the boat to a mooring ring. One of them, a big fellow, stripped to the waist and barefooted, shambled forward and caught the rope I tossed him.

The men eyed me over as I climbed on to the sea wall, eyed the boat over and exchanged glances.

“That’s Tim’s boat,” the big fellow said, rubbing his hands on the seat of his dirty white canvas trousers.

“Yeah,” I said, and in case they thought I’d stolen it, I added, “I hired it off him. I’m on a fishing vacation.”

“Swell boat,” the big fellow said.

“That’s so,” I said.

I made the rope fast, conscious that they hadn’t taken their eyes off me for a moment, then I strolled over to the store, hoping that no one would start anything. No one did.

The storekeeper told me his name was Mac. I told him my name was Reilly. He was a wizened little guy with bright eyes of a bird. I liked him. When I started buying, he liked me. I bought a load of stuff.

We roped in some of the loungers, including the big fellow, to cart the stuff down to the boat. Mac came, too, but he didn’t carry anything.

“Duval’s boat,” he said, when he reached the sea wall.

“That guy seems pretty well known around here,” I said.

“Sure is,” he said, and grinned.

I lit a cigarette and gave him one.

“Kind of quiet here,” I said, looking up and down the deserted beach.

“Sure is,” Mac said. “No one bothers us. We get along.”

“I guess you do,” I said.

“Hear there was some excitement over at Paradise Palms,” he said, after a pause. “A political killing. The radio’s been yelling its head off.”

“I heard that too,” I said.

“I reckon it’s no business of ours.”

I wondered if that meant anything.

“You alone?” he went on, looking down into the boat.

“Yeah,” I said.

He nodded, then spat into the sea.

“Thought maybe you’d brought your wife along.”

“Not married,” I said.

“We all can’t be.”

The big fellow climbed off the boat and came over. He was sweating plenty.

“That’s the lot,” he said, then added, “the cabin’s locked.”

“Yeah,” I said.

Mac and the big fellow exchanged glances. I guess they were thinking hard.

I gave the big fellow a fin. He took it like it was a C note. He was excited.

“Maybe we’ll see you again,” Mac said hopefully. “Any friend of Tim’s my friend.”

“That’s good news,” I said, and meant it.

“I reckon Duval wouldn’t hire his boat to anyone but a right guy,” Mac went on.

“I guess not,” I said, thinking that Duval rated high around the island. I stepped down into the boat.

“A patrol noses around here every so often,” Mac said, sitting on his heels so he was near my ear.

“That so?” I said, looking up at him.

He closed one eye. “We don’t tell ’em much.”

“Fine,” I said.”

“Maybe you’d better let her out. It must be plenty hot in that cabin,” he went on, looking over my head and admiring the view.

“Huh-uh,” I grunted, then added, “Don’t be smarter than you can help.”

He took out a hunk of chewing tobacco and bit off a lump.

“The cops around here don’t rate with me,” he said, chewing hard. “That guy Herrick tried to clamp down on our trade. He was a nuisance. I reckon the boys are kind of grateful someone removed him.”

I nodded. “I heard he wasn’t popular.”

I cast off and started the engine. I got gas if you ever want it,” he called after me.

I waved.

3

A moon that looked like a Camembert cheese hung in the cloudiest sky. The nodding palms cast long, spooky shadows. The red glow of the charcoal fire reflected on Miss Wonderly’s skin. She lay on her back, her arms crossed behind her head, her knees bent. She wore blue

shorts, a red halter and sandals. Her honey-coloured hair hid one side of her face.

I knelt before the fire, grilling a couple of spareribs. They smelt and looked fine.

We were tired, but we had the house ship-shape. I was surprised the way Miss Wonderly put her back into cleaning the joint. We had scrubbed and swept and dusted. We had laid coconutmatting down in two rooms and shifted the boat’s bunks into one of them. We’d unscrewed the two small arm-chairs from the cabin and dragged them into the house, and we’d taken the table too. With a couple of good paraffin lamps, the place looked almost like home.

In the cockpit of the boat I had found a Thompson and an automatic rifle and enough ammunition to start a minor war. I brought the automatic rifle to the house, but left the Thompson in the cockpit. I didn’t know when we might be cut off suddenly from the house or the boat, and I reckoned a division of weapons wise.

There was a portable radio on the boat, and we brought that up to the house too.

It had been a good day’s work in spite of the heat, and now we were ready for something solid to eat.

I divided up the spareribs, the hashed brown potatoes and a couple of Cokes.

“Here we go,” I said, dumping the plate on Miss Wonderly’s chest. “Eats.”

She sat up, after putting the plate on the beach wrap she had spread out so she shouldn’t get sand in her hair. In the moonlight and the firelight she looked swell.

“Still scared?” I asked, cutting my meat.

She shook her head. “No.”

We’d been so busy that we hadn’t even thought about Killeano and the rest of them.

“It doesn’t seem like it all happened this morning, does it?” I said. “I guess you’ve got some talking to do. How do you figure in all this?”

She sat for a while without saying anything. I didn’t rush her, but I had to know.

“I was a fool,” she said suddenly. “I came out here because I was promised a job, and because I was sick of pushing off men who thought showgirls were easy to make. The job sounded good, but it turned out to be just another masher’s build up. He didn’t want me to work. He wanted me to give him a good time. It wasn’t my idea of a good time, so I found, myself stranded here without the means to get back.”

“When will you girls learn?” I said.

“Speratza came along. He wanted someone to look after the flowers and decorations at the Casino. I got the job.”

“You and flowers go together,” I said.

She nodded. “It was all right for eight months. I liked it, and the money was good. Then suddenly Speratza sent for me. He was in his office with Killeano and Flaggerty. They stared me over, and I didn’t like the way they whispered to each other. Killeano said that I’d do, and he and Flaggerty went off. Then Speratza told me to sit down and offered me a thousand dollars to entertain you. I didn’t know it was you then. He told me you were an important visitor and said, for reasons I needn’t know, I was to entertain you, and if I did the job well he’d give me the money and my ticket home.”

“And what did you think?”

“I didn’t know what to think. It was an awful lot of money, and I wanted to get home, but there was something about the way Speratza talked that warned me not to touch the job. I asked him exactly what I had to do. He said I was to take you around, give you a good time, and then persuade you to take me back to your hotel. He said I was to sleep with you, but you would be doped and you wouldn’t bother me. It was important that I should spend the night in your room. I thought it was a divorce frame-up. I didn’t like it. and I refused.” She gave a little shiver and stared across the moonlit bay. “He tried to persuade me, but the more he talked the surer I was that something was wrong. Then he got up and told me to follow him. We took a trip in his car to the harbour.”

She stopped talking and stared down at her hands. I didn’t hurry her, and after a while, she went on.

“He took me to a house on the waterfront. As soon as I was inside I knew what it was. I could tell by the awful old woman and the girls that peered over the banisters. It was horrible.”

I gave her a cigarette. We smoked in silence for a few minutes.

“He said he’d keep you there if you didn’t play. Is that it?” I said.

She nodded. “I was so scared I would have done anything to get out.”

“That’s all right,” I said.

“Well, I said I’d go through with it, and he took me back to the Casino. He said they’d watch everything I did. He and Flaggerty would be with us the whole time, unseen, but watching, and if I warned you, they would kill you and send me to that place.”

“Nice guys,” I said. “What happened when I passed out?”

“I knew the brandy was drugged. They had to tell me that so I wouldn’t drink it myself. After you had passed out, I let them in. Speratza and Flaggerty looked you over and put you into the bed. They told me to get in with you and to stay there until it was daylight. They told me I wasn’t to move until then. I was so scared I did what I was told. I knew something horrible would happen. I heard them moving about in the sitting-room, and I know now what they were doing. I stayed awake all night, and then when it got light I went into the sitting-room. Well, you know what happened then.”

I shifted closer to her.

“But you sold them out in the end,” I said. “Why? Why did you take that risk?”

She looked away. “I wouldn’t rail-road anyone into murder,” she said. “Besides, I said I was on your side, remember?”

“I remember,” I said, “but you were in a jam. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had played with them.”

“Well, I didn’t,” she said.

I turned her face so I could see her.

“I could go for you,” I said.

She slid her arms round my neck and pulled my head down. “I’ve gone for you,” she said, her lips against my neck. “I don’t care. I can’t keep it to myself. I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

We played around for a while: loving her wasn’t hard work.

“Now I wonder what I’m going to do with you?” I said, after the Camembert moon had moved around to our left.

“Do?” She sat up, her eyes scared. “What should you do?”

“Can I leave you here? Can you manage on your own?”

She clutched at my arm. “What are you going to do?”

“Use your nut, baby,” I said. “I’ve got plenty to do. There’s Killeano—remember him? That fat little guy who looks like Mussolini?”

“But you’re not going back to Paradise Palms?”

“Sure I’m going back, I only came here so you could be safe.”

“Oh, you’re crazy,” she cried. “What can you do against so many?”

“You’ll be surprised,” I said, smiling at her. “There’s a murder rap hanging over us. I’m going to bust that for a start. We’re not safe until I find Herrick’s killer and persuade him to come clean.”

“But you can’t go back alone,” she said frantically.

“I’m going back alone, and I’m going in a few minutes,” I told her. “Ah I want to be sure about is that you’ll be all right while I’m away.”

“I won’t be all right,” she said quickly—too quickly.

I shook my head at her. “Oh yes, you will. Now listen, I’ll be back tomorrow night. I’m taking the boat, and you’re to stay near the house. You’ve the rifle and enough food. You keep your ears and eyes open, and you’ll be all right. If anyone comes, lock yourself in the house. They won’t get at you, if you use your head. But no one will come.”

“Suppose you don’t come back?” she asked, her lips trembling.

“You’ll still be all right,” I said. “I’m leaving you seventeen grand. Go to Mac. He’ll get you back to New York somehow. I’ll drop in and talk it over with him.”

“No,” she said, “don’t do that. I’d rather no one knows I’m alone.”

That made sense.

“But you mustn’t leave me.” She pressed her face against mine. “I don’t want to lose you now I’ve just found you.”

We argued back and forth, but I was going anyway. She got the idea at last, and stopped trying to persuade me. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking scared and sad.

“All right,” she said.

“Herrick knew something important. It was so important that they killed him,” I said. “Can you think what it could have been?”

She shook her head. “I hardly knew him. He used to come to the Casino, but I never spoke to him.”

“Did he have a girl?”

She nodded. “He went around with a red-head. She’s a singer, and has an apartment on Lancing Avenue, a big chromium and black marble block on the left as you go up.”

“Know her?”

“No, but I’ve heard the other girls talk about her. She’s hard, not my type.”

“Her name?”

“Lois Spence.”

“Okay, maybe she’ll know something.”

“You will be careful?” she said, putting her hand on my knee.

“Sure,” I said. “Now Killeano. Know anything about him?”

“Only that he is important, owns the Casino and is the City Administrator.”

“Did you ever ask yourself why Herrick should hang around the Casino? He wasn’t a gambling man, was he?”

“No.”

“Well, all right,” I said, getting up. “Maybe Miss Spence will answer all the questions. I’m going to dress now, honey.”

I went into the house and put on a dark blue linen suit, a dark blue shirt and a dark red tie. I went into the sitting-room and found her waiting for me. She was making a brave show, but I could see she was near tears.

I gave her the cigar box.

“Take care of that, sweetheart,” I said. “That’s all the dough I have in the world, and I sweated earning it.”

She clung to me.

“Don’t go,” she said.

I patted her.

“If anything should happen to you…” she said.

“It won’t. Come down to the boat,”

It was still hot, and mangroves burning in the still air smelt fine. She looked so nice standing in the moonlight I nearly said the hell with it. But I didn’t.

I cast off.

“No sleeping-draught for me tomorrow night,” I called, as the boat drifted out of the harbour.

She waved, but she didn’t say anything. I guess she was crying.

4

Paradise Palms looked if anything nicer by night than by day. I could see the lighted dome of the Casino in the distance as I steered the boat towards the wharf. I wondered if there would be a reception committee with shot-guns waiting for me when I landed.

It was just after ten thirty, and the wharf, as far as I could see from this distance, was deserted. I cut the engine, put the Thompson where I could get at it, and drifted in.

When I was within twenty yards of the wharf, I saw a short fat figure rise up out of the shadows and walk to the edge of the wharf. I recognized Tim Duval.

He caught the rope I threw to him and made fast.

“Hello,” he said, grinning.

I glanced up and down the wharf.

“Hello,” I said.

“They came down here a couple of hours back, but I kept out of sight. The old woman told them I’d gone on a trip. That took care of the boat. They didn’t find your heep, and they shoved off after nosing around. There were a lot of them.”

I nodded. “Thanks,” I said.

He hitched up his dirty grey flannels.

“What now?” he said.

“I’ve got a little business in town. How’s the heat?”

He whistled. “Fierce,” he said, “but their description of you is punk. They’re calling you handsome.”

I laughed. “Well, I’m going in.”

“I guess it takes a lot to stop a guy like you. Want me to come along?”

“Why in hell do you want to mix yourself up in this?” I asked.

“Damned if I know,” he said, running thick fingers through bleached hair. “Maybe I don’t like this town. Maybe I don’t like Killeano. Maybe I’m nuts.”

“I’ll go in alone,” I said.

“Okay. Anything I can do?”

“I want a car. Can you lend me one?”

“Sure. It looks a wreck, but it goes.”

“Get it.”

I smoked while I waited. I could hear the dance music from the distant Casino.

Duval came back after a while, driving a grey Mercury convertible. It looked as if it had been kicked around plenty, but the engine sounded all right.

I got in. “Want me to pay you now?” I asked.

“I got the boat, your heep and a grand, haven’t I?” he said. “What more do I want? Except maybe I’d like to horn in on this.”

I shook my head. “Not yet, anyway,” I said.

He shrugged. I could see he was disappointed.

“Oh well,” he said.

I had an idea. “Know any newspaper men around town?”

“Sure. There’s Jed Davis of the Morning Star. He’s often around. We go fishing together.”

“Get me some dirt on Killeano. Ask Davis. Dig deep. A guy like Killeano must have plenty of dirt in his life. I want all I can get.”

His face brightened. “I’ll get it,” he said.

“And there’s a cat-house somewhere on the waterfront, want to know who owns it. Speratza of the Casino has access to it. I’d like to tie him in closer than that if I can.”

“I know the joint,” he said. “Okay, I’ll get the stuff.”

I started the engine. Then I had another idea.

“Gimme your telephone number,” I said.

He gave it to me.

“I may run into trouble,” I said, eyeing him. “I might not get back. If that happened, would

you do something for me?”

He got it all right.

“Sure, I’ll look after her. Do you want to tell where she is?”

I had to trust someone. I thought I could trust him.

“Cudco Key,” I said.

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good place. Mac’s there.”

“I know, and he’s a good guy.”

“Hell! We’re all good guys. I’ll look after her,”

“I like that girl,” I said slowly. “If anything should happen to her…” I gave him the cold eye.

He nodded. “I’ll look after her,” he said

I thanked him and drove away.

Lancing Avenue was in the better-class district of Paradise Palms. It was a broad avenue lined by Royal Palms that were as straight-cut as a row of skittles.

I found the chromium and black marble apartment block without difficulty. It had a halfcircular drive to the entrance and a lot of bright lights. It looked like a Christmas tree out of season.

I drove the Mercury up the drive. A big, gaudy convertible threatened to squeeze me off the road as it passed, making a noise like snowflakes on a window. It stopped before the entrance and three dizzy-looking dames, all cigarettes, arched eyebrows and mink coatees got out and went in.

The Mercury made me fell like a poor relation calling on his rich relatives.

I parked behind the limousine and went in too.

The lobby was no smaller than an ice-skating rink, but cosier. There was a reception desk, an enquiry desk, a flower-stall, a cigarette kiosk, and a hall porter’s cubby hole. It was class; the

carpet tickled my ankles.

I looked around.

The three dizzy dames had gone over to the elevators. One of them pulled down her gridle with both hands and gave me the eye. She had too much on the ball for me to be more than mildly interested. She was the kind of dame who’d pick out your good inlays without an anaesthetic. I took myself over to the hall porter. He was a sad old man dressed up in a bottlegreen uniform. He didn’t look as if he had much joy in his life.

I draped myself over the counter of his cubby-hole.

“Hi, dad,” I said.

He looked up and nodded. “Yes, sir?” he said.

“Miss Spence. Miss Lois Spence. Right?”

He nodded again. “Apartment 466, sir. Take the right-hand elevator.”

“She in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s fine,” I said, and lit a cigarette.

He looked at me and wondered, but he was too well bred to ask why I didn’t go up and see her. He just waited.

“How are you going off for holding money, dad?” I asked casually.

He blinked. “Always do with some, sir,” he said.

“Kind of tough here?” I asked, glancing around. “All silk for the customers and crepe for the staff?”

He nodded. “We’re supposed to make it in tips, sir,” he said bitterly. “But they are so mean here they wouldn’t give a blind beggar the air.”

I took out a five spot and folded it carefully. He eyed it the way I eye Dorothy Lamour.

“Miss Spence interests me,” I said. “Know anything about her?”

He glanced around uneasily. “Don’t flash that money so anyone can see it, sir,” he begged. “I wouldn’t like to lose my job.”

I hid the note in my hand, but I let the end show in case he forgot what it looked like.

“Do you talk or do you talk?” I asked pleasantly.

“Well, I know her, sir,” he said. “She’s been here three years, and you get to know them after a while.” He said it as if he hated her guts.

“Nice to you?”

“Maybe she doesn’t mean it, sir,” he said, shrugging.

“You mean she doesn’t kick you in the face because her leg doesn’t stretch that far?”

He nodded.

“What’s her line?” I asked.

His old face sneered. “Tom—he runs the elevator—says she’d flop at the drop of a hat. Perhaps you know what he means. I don’t.”

“It’s a cynical way of saying she’s a push-over,” I said. “Is she?”

He shook his head. “Maybe the first time, but not after that. She kind of whets a guy’s appetite and then holds him off. It comes kind of expensive the second time. I’ve seen guys climb walls and gnaw their way across the ceiling because they couldn’t make the grade.”

“She kind of gets in your blood, huh?”

He nodded. “One sap shot himself because of her.”

“Tough.”

“I guess he was crazy.”

“How did Herrick make out with her?”

He eyed me narrowly. “I don’t know whether I should talk about him, sir. The boys in blue have been buzzing around here today like wasps.”

I showed him the other end of the five spot, hoping it would look more interesting that way.

“Try,” I said.

“Well, he was different. He and the Basque.”

“The Basque?”

He nodded. “He’s up there now.”

“She played around with Herrick?”

“Well, they went around together. Herrick had a lot of dough, but I wouldn’t say they played, if you mean what I think you mean, sir.”

“You wouldn’t, eh? How about the Basque?”

He shrugged. “You know what these women are like. They have to have one regular among the many. I guess he’s it.”

“And not Herrick?”

“He was different. He never stayed nights with her. I guess they were on a different footing. Maybe they were in business or something together.”

“You wouldn’t swear to that?”

“No, but she didn’t take any trouble to hide up the Basque from Herrick. He’d be with her when Herrick called. It seemed to make no difference.”

“Who is this Basque, anyway?”

“Name’s Juan Gomez. He’s a jai alai player. The local champ around here.”

“What does he do beside play?”

The old man’s eyes rolled. “Gets out of training with Miss Spence, I reckon.”

“Did the cops pay her a visit?”

He nodded.

“Hear anything?”

“No, but Gomez was with her.” A wintry smile crossed his face. “I bet she had to do some fancy talking to explain what that dago was doing in her room at eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Probably said he’d come to fix the refrigerator,” I said. “Ever see Killeano in here?”

“No.”

“Right,” I said, and slid him the five spot. He snapped it up the way a lizard nails a fly.

I was moving away when he leaned forward and whispered, “Here they come now.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw them. Being interested in women, I looked first at Miss Spence. She had on a pair of long-waisted, rust-coloured slacks, Bata shoes, a brown and white print shirt and an orange scarf. Apart from being a trifle heavy in the beam, she had a longlimbed languorous figure. Her red hair was as artificial as her long-spiked eye-lashes. Her mouth was wide and glistening, and her eyes were the colour of forget-me-nots, and as expressionless. She wore Revlon’s “Fatal Apple” make-up (the most tempting new colour since Eve winked at Adam). As she wafted past me on a cloud of No. 5 Chanel, I observed the utterly disdainful expression on her face and the strange sins that lurked in her eyes.

I decided it’d be interesting to have a session with her, providing two strong men were outside the door to rescue me if the going got too tough, and if she left me enough strength to scream for help.

The Basque was a turn on his own. He was tall and broad and unpleasantly strong looking, and as lithe as a jungle cat and twice as dangerous. His brown, lean face was coldly savage, and there was a chilled expression in his eyes that didn’t make you feel you wanted to slap him on the back.

Miss Spence handed over the keys to the hall porter as if he was the invisible man, and then strolled across the lobby, with Gomez tailing her.

As she walked, she managed to make her hips quiver, and all the men in the lobby, including me, peeped at them.

Half way across, she paused to ask her boy friend for a cigarette. He was lighting it for her when a loudspeaker extension crackled into life.

“Paradise Palms Police Department,” said a tinny voice. The loudspeaker hummed slowly, then spluttered to sound: “Repeat as of nine fifteen on Herrick killing. Wanted: Chester Cain. Description: six foot one—a hundred and ninety pounds —about thirty-five—dark hair—sallow complexion—wearing grey suit, grey soft hat. Probably trying to get out of town… don’t take any chances—he’s dangerous. Anyone recognizing the wanted man should report at once by telephone to the Police Department. No attempt should be made to apprehend this man unless you are armed. That is all.”

Miss Spence threw down her cigarette and stamped on it.

“Haven’t they caught that bastard yet?” she demanded angrily.

5

Jai alai is the fastest and toughest sport in the world. It is played with a cesta or basket, strapped to the player’s right hand. The curved, three-foot basket has a maximum depth of five inches. A player can wear out three or four baskets during a contest. The hard, rubber-cored ball or pelota, slightly smaller than a baseball, is covered with goatskin.

The ball is driven with such speed that it sometimes breaks a leg or arm. The playing court or cachet is spacious, its green walls rising to the high-netted skylight of the auditorium. Where the concrete of the cacha floor ends in the red foul line and meets the wooden floor of the auditorium, there is a vertical wire screen which protects the tiers of customers.

The server drops the ball, catches it on the rebound, and hurls it with a terrific forehand stroke against the wall. The opposing player has to intercept the ball with his basket and keep it in play. The players move like lightning, their cesta-lengthened hands reaching out miraculously to intercept and return bullet-like rallies of the ball. The pelota continues in play until it falls in illegal territory, or a contestant fails to make good a return.

There are few ball games calling for greater strength, endurance and skill, and it is said most jai alai players die young. If they’re not sooner or later severely injured by the ball, their hearts give out.

I had followed Miss Spence and her boy friend in their Cadillac sedan to a large coral-tinted stucco building, which turned out to be the jai alai headquarters. I had watched Miss Spence leave her boy friend at the player’s gate and enter the auditorium. I had tagged along behind her.

Now I was sitting beside her on a plush seat in the front row of the first of the tiers behind the wire screen, looking down into the floodlit cacha.

Four energetic young Spaniards were dashing about the floor slamming the almost invisible ball back and forth, and performing acrobatic miracles. The crowd seemed to be getting a big bang out of them, but I was more interested in Miss Spence.

She had spread out on the flat plush top of the balcony wall a program, a pair of binoculars, her hand-bag, a carton of cigarettes and her orange scarf. The heady perfume of No. 5 Chanel brooded over her nick-nacks, herself, and of course, me.

Sitting so close to her—the seats were cut on economical lines—I could feel a subtle warmth from her body, and her perfume had a distinct effect on me. I wondered vaguely what she would do if I enfolded her in a Charles Boyer embrace.

The four Spaniards finished their game and walked off the court to a scattering of applause. They looked jaded and hot. If I’d been in their place I would have been carried off on a stretcher, with a dewy-eyed nurse in attendance packing ice around my temples.

There was an interval, and Miss Spence looked around the auditorium as if she expected the rest of the audience to stand up and sing the National Anthem at the sight of her. They didn’t.

She looked to her right, and then to her left. As I was on her left, she looked at me. I gave her a sad, coy leer, and hoped it would unhook the disdainful expression on her face. It didn’t exactly do that, but it registered enough for her to study me.

I leaned forward confidentially. “They say the elastic shortage has made woman’s position in world affairs less secure than it was four years back,” I said briskly.

She didn’t say “Huh?", but she wanted to. She looked away instead, the way you look when a drunk speaks to you. Then she looked back and caught my grin. She smiled bleakly.

“Reilly’s the name,” I said. “I’m a playboy with a lot of dough and a yen for red-heads. You’d better scream for help while there’s time. I’m considered to be a fast worker.”

She looked me over. No smile now. Eyes medium to hard.

“I could handle you without help,” she said in a husky voice that sent chills up and down my spine, “and I don’t like playboys.”

“My mistake,” I said, shaking my head. “I missed out on psychology when I worked my way through college. I’d’ve thought playboys would have been your strong suit. Let’s forget it,” and I picked up my program and pretended to study it.

She gave me another bleak stare and concentrated on the court below.

Four men had just walked on. One of them was Gomez. You could tell he was the local champ. Not only did the crowd give him a tremendous hand, but the other three players hung back and let him scoop the limelight. He was full of bounce and arrogance. I watched him wave to the crowd. He certainly had something to be arrogant about. I’ve never seen such a specimen of a he-man. He looked in our direction and gave Miss Spence a special wave. She ignored him, so I waved for her, just for the hell of it. He didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture.

Miss Spence’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t say anything.

The four men were now in a huddle in the middle of the court, testing the pelota which had just been thrown in. Then they broke up and went to their positions.

“Do these guys get paid to play this sissy game?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.

“What makes you think you’re so tough?” she snapped back, before she remembered her dignity.

“Give me a chance and I’ll show you,” I said.

She leaned forward and looked down at the players. Her eyes brooded sudden death.

Gomez served. I’ll say this for him, he could certainly sling a mean pelota. The ball whizzed through the air, struck the front wall and shot back, hugging the wall and buzzing like an outsized hornet. One of the other players turned into the side wall and took three quick steps up its perpendicular height, like a man running up a short flight of stairs. He trapped the ball in his cesta, dropped back and slammed the ball away. White figures darted about the court, arms reached out, the ball whizzed to and fro. Gomez did all the things you’d expect a champ to do, and did them well. His stamina was terrifying. The score moved quickly. It looked a walk-over

for him.

I gave Miss Spence a sidelong look. She was watching the game with a bored disdainful expression on her face as if she knew what was going to happen, and didn’t care if and when it did happen.

I remembered what the hall porter had said about her flopping at the drop of a hat. I wondered if it had to be a certain kind of a hat or whether any hat would do. I wished I’d asked for further details.

“Before long that side of beef will be looking for you,” I said softly. “Suppose you and me walk out on him? I could show you the moon. If you don’t like moons, I’ll show you my tattoo marks instead.”

Her long, slender, red-tipped fingers tapped on the binocular case.

“I still don’t like playboys,” she said, and looked away.

Gomez had smashed his cesta. Scowling, he signalled time out, and went over to a Negro attendant who strapped a new basket on his hand.

I looked around to make sure no one was paying us any attention. No one was. I made my hand into a fist and slugged Miss Spence just above her hip bone. She rocked, and breath whistled through her nose.

“Maybe you like tough guys better?” I said, smiling at her.

She didn’t look at me, but her nose was pinched and her eyes like holes in a mask. She gathered up her junk off the balcony wall and stood up.

“Show me the moon,” she said in a brittle hard voice, and pushed past the spectators to the gangway.

I followed her out, accompanied by a storm of cheering. I guessed Gomez had taken the final tan to, and I’d launched Miss Spence just in time.

The dignified doorman signalled for her car as soon as he saw her coining. By the time we had reached the revolving doors the black and chromium Cadillac was lined up, waiting.

The doorman gave me a hard look as he handed Miss Spence into the car. She left the driving

seat vacant, and I slid under the wheel. We drifted away with the smoothness of a falling leaf, and with less noise.

I drove fast to Lancing Avenue. She didn’t say anything during the drive, and she sat stiff and straight, looking at the road ahead, her big white teeth gnawing her underlip.

I stopped outside the big apartment block, opened the door and got out. She got out too. We walked across the lobby, and as I passed the hall porter I winked at him. He stared back as if he was seeing a mirage.

We rode up to the fourth floor in an automatic elevator, and walked along the broad corridor to apartment 466. We didn’t speak or look at each other. The atmosphere was loaded with an off-key excitement.

She unlocked the door and we went into a big room full of apricot and chromium furniture. I shut the door, tossed my hat on a chair and faced her.

She looked at me from the fireplace. Her disdainful expression was still hooked to her face, but her eyes were expectant, bright.

“Come here,” she said, almost thickly.

I crossed the room and put my hands on her hip-bones. I smiled at her.

“Hold me close, you beast,” she said.

I put my arms around her loosely at first. Her hair had a harsh feeling against my face. I tightened my arms and pulled her against me. Her mouth felt hard against mine, but after a while her lips opened. She was shivering.

“Tough guy,” she said softly, her breath going into my mouth.

“What was Herrick to you?” I asked.

Her body stiffened in my arms and her breath made a harsh sound. Her head pulled back until her eyes, wide open, were staring at me.

“Who are you?” she asked, in a soft dull voice.

“Chester Cain,” I said.

Her face fell to pieces. She pushed away, white, her eyes vacant, blank. I let her go

“Who?”

“Chester Cain.”

Slowly she got herself m hand. Her eyes roved around the room, lit on the telephone, lingered, then came back to me.

“Sit down,” I said. “I want to talk to you.”

She wandered towards the telephone. A gentle hissing sound came from between her tightlylocked teeth.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” she managed to jerk out, in grabbed it. She struck at me with her nails. I let go of the telephone and grabbed her wrist, twisting it. She was surprisingly strong. We swayed, and she tried to claw me with her free hand. I ducked my head, and she missed. I expected her to scream, but she didn’t, she fought silently, panting a little, her eyes glowing, her mouth working.

We scuffed up the rugs, and did a lot of tramping and shuffling, but I worked her over to the divan and then trapped her ankle and pushed.

She hit the divan and bounced up, but I flung her down again. She kicked me on the shin, gave me a punch in the face and tried to bite my jugular. I cursed her gently and went into a clinch with her. She writhed, twisted and scratched. We were both panting. She butted me in the eye with the top of her head.

I said, “The hell with this,” flung her off and stood back. I pulled my gun on her. “Let’s skip it,” I went on, “or I’ll blow a hole in you.”

She glared up at me, her eyes savage, but the gun seemed to cool her.

“Stay put, sister,” I said, drawing up a chair. I sat down.

She looked me over, and then flopped back on the divan. I’d torn her shirt and a shoulder peeped through. It was a nice shoulder, white and firm.

“You think I killed Herrick,” I said, “but I didn’t.”

She continued to eye me savagely, and said nothing.

“Killeano’s mob killed him, and tried to pin it on me,” I went on.

“You killed him all right,” she said, and added some fancy names. Her language would have turned a stevedore pale.

“Use your head,” I said. “I’ve just arrived here. I never saw Herrick before until I met him in the Casino for a couple of minutes. He asked me to get out of town because he thought I’d cause trouble, and Killeano made that the excuse for killing him and framing me. Can’t you see how simple it is? Why should I want to kill Herrick? Think, Tutz, work on it. If you were Killeano and you wanted Herrick out of the way, wouldn’t you spring the killing when a guy with my reputation blows into town? It was a gift.”

She looked doubtful.

“Killeano wanted him out of the way all right,” she muttered. “It could be, but I don’t believe it.”

I told her the story, how Speratza had invited me to the

Casino, how Miss Wonderly had been detailed to look after me, how I’d seen Flaggerty watching us, and the whole works. She sat watching me, and the angry bitterness seeped out of her eyes.

“All right,” she said, shrugging. “I’m the sucker, so you didn’t kill him.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I said. “But I’m in a jam. You can help me out.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why should I?”

“Suppose you tell me,” I said, smiling at her. “What was Herrick to you?”

She swung off the divan and went over to the big cocktail cabinet.

“I’m keeping out of this,” she said, taking out two glasses and pouring whisky. She came over and handed me one, looked down at me, and smiled coldly. “You’re tough, all right,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been fed through a mangle.”

I pulled her down on my lap. She was a big armful, but I handled her.

“Let’s be friends,” I said. “You liked Herrick, didn’t you?”

She pushed away from me and stood up.

“Cut that stuff right out,” she said. “I’m not quite a sap.”

I drank some whisky, lit a cigarette and shrugged.

“I could beat it out of you,” I said, giving her the cold eye.

“Try,” she said, sitting on the divan.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “I’ll have a talk with your pal Gomez. He’ll be interested to know you sexed me up to this room.”

That threw a scare into her.

“You dare!” she snapped, jumping to her feet.

“Come on, be nice.”

“Herrick paid me to play the tables at the Casino,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t know why, so don’t ask me. He always took the money I’d won and gave me other notes in exchange.”

I stared at her.

“Why did he do that?” I said.

She was just going to say she didn’t know, when the door jerked open and Gomez walked in.