Lingo

CHAPTER XIV. THE SHADOW’S PLANTS

HALF an hour after they had started their taxi trip, Lingo Queed and his companions arrived at Brindle’s Restaurant. They entered the Broadway eating place and strolled toward booths at the rear, while gawk-eyed patrons watched them.

Brindle’s was a popular place with gilt-edged mobsters. It had long been known as a rendezvous for big shots. At present, Lingo Queed was biggest of the big, even though he did not look the part. True he had discarded his shabby, sweatered garb; but the ready-made suit that he had taken instead was a typical pattern of the East Side tailor shops.

Lingo looked like a Bowery tough alongside of his lieutenants, Louis Caparani and Buzz Dongarth. Louie was immaculately clothed in a blackish suit that had a tuxedo touch; while Buzz had improved his appearance considerably since making his deal with Bart Koplin.

Big shot and lieutenants took one booth, while the gorillas slid into one adjacent. This conformed to gangland’s etiquette. As a precautionary measure, the gorillas chose the booth between Lingo’s and the door. They were acting as the big shot’s bodyguards.

A pudgy, bald-headed man approached the booth and nodded. Fat chin resting on the points of his dress collar, he presented menus for the guests. Lingo and the others addressed him as “Maxie” — the only name by which they knew this head waiter.

“Still shy a doorman, eh, Maxie?” questioned Louie.

“Ach, yes,” grumbled Maxie. “They come for the job. They find out what place this is. They go. They do not want the job.”

“How come?” queried Lingo.

Louie looked surprised when he heard the new king’s question. Then he laughed.

“That’s right, Lingo,” remarked the racketeer. “You hadn’t been coming to this joint until I brought you up here the other night. You’ve liked it since then, though.”

“Stick to the doorman,” growled Lingo. “What about him? Is it a gag?”

“Ach, no,” put in Maxie. “It is too bad. The old doorman, he was foolish enough to get into trouble. One month ago, that was, he was too slow getting out of the way, when customers got busy with their guns. Killed, he was.”

“I heard about it,” recalled Lingo. “Some guy in from Chi bumped into a torpedo who had it in for him. Wasn’t that it?”

“Yeah,” put in Buzz. “And neither of them would have hurt anybody else if the doorman hadn’t tried to scram out of the way. The sap jumped the wrong direction and got in front of a slug.”

“Try to tell that to the men who come here,” shrugged Maxie. “Ach, the employment offices send them to this address. When they see the name above the door they leave.”

“Change the name of the place,” laughed Louie.

“Or hire one of my gorillas,” add Lingo. “Look at those mugs in the next booth, Maxie. See how one of the would look in uniform.”

“You joke,” declared Maxie, soberly. “But it is no joke to me. I have been told this week to act as manager here. I have to hire the new doorman. But none will come.”

A waiter approached. Maxie took the orders and gave them to the menial. The bald-headed man waddled toward the rear of the restaurant; then came back. He stopped close beside Lingo’s booth; the big shot looked up quickly as he saw the head waiter pause.

A HUGE man had come into the restaurant. He was a gigantic African with fists the size of hams. His dark face was wearing a smile as he bowed to Maxie. Apparently he had been sent back to the head waiter.

“Are you Mr. Maxie?” the big fellow inquired. “If you is, you’s the gen’l’man ah was told to ask foah.”

“What about?” inquired Maxie, looking up at the face a foot above him.

“Dat job heah. You want a doorman, don’t you, sah?”

“Ach, yes!” Maxie rubbed his hands warmly. “Who sent you over here?”

“The Stah Employment Agency. An’ when ah seed this place” — the African chuckled — “well, sah, ah said: ‘Dis is where all dat trouble was’ — yes, sah, ah remembered it.”

Lingo and his lieutenants were all interested by this time. They were craning from the booth, watching Maxie and the prospective doorman.

“What’s your name?” queried Maxie.

“Jericho,” replied the big man. “Dat’s what dey call me. An’ ah’ll tell you somethin’, Mr. Maxie. It don’t matter to me how tough some people get. Ah’ll take care of them.”

“Listen to that hooey,” growled Buzz Dongarth. “Say, with the long legs that gazebo’s got, I’ll bet he could beat a bullet going down Broadway!”

“He’d try it, anyway,” chuckled Louie Caparani, “if a couple of gunners got started here like they did before.”

“Say, Maxie” — it was Lingo this time, his voice was loud enough for the head waiter to hear — “what’s that this big boy’s handing you?”

Maxie turned around; so did Jericho. The big fellow grinned as he eyed the three inquisitors.

“If Maxie’s got a big enough uniform,” declared Jericho, “I’ll staht work tonight, gen’l’men. Ah wants a job bad, ah does. And when ah sees a chanct foah one, ah don’t lose no time trying to get it.”

“Say” — Lingo eyed Jericho speculatively — “it looks like you’d be over-sized for the doorman’s job. You’d hide half of Brindle’s window. What about it, Maxie?”

“Ach, maybe so.”

Jericho’s grin faded. The big fellow looked appealingly, almost accusingly, at Lingo. Maxie’s doubt was making Jericho feel uneasy. The remark about the window had been a jest; but Jericho’s size was indeed a matter to be considered. Maxie was beginning to decide that it would be unwise to hire a doorman of such Gargantuan proportions.

“Ach, the uniform,” said Maxie. “I had forgotten about it. It is a fine one and the tailor, he has fixed it so very well that the bullet hole is gone. It would not do for this man, and besides he would be too — ach, what is the word I want — I mean he would be too much to be seen.”

“Too conspicuous,” chuckled Louie Caparani. “Well Lingo, it looks like you done the big boy out of a job.”

“Maybe,” suggested Buzz, with a laugh, “he’d do for the job Hawkeye was talking about. One thing you can bet; he isn’t in the know. If he can act as big as he talks, or even as big as he looks, he’d be your ticket, Lingo.”

“That is an idea!” ejaculated Lingo. “Wait a minute, big fellow, maybe I can do something for you.” He turned to Buzz and whispered:

“Wise those gorillas in the next booth. Slip them the word to gang this guy.”

A grin appeared on Buzz’s hard face. The lieutenant shouldered past Jericho while Lingo beckoned to the big fellow. Jericho did not see Buzz stop at the adjoining booth. Nor did Maxie. The head waiter was too interested in the coming conversation.

“Suppose,” said Lingo to Jericho, “that I showed you a job worth fifty a week? Would you like it?”

“Fifty dollahs!” gasped Jericho, gaping. “Dat’s moah’n ah thought ah could make in a month. If you isn’t fooling me, sah, ah’d tell you dat I’d show you some real service foah dat amount of money. Yassah—”

JERICHO did not complete the sentence. The gorillas had sidled out from the next booth. Buzz had stepped a short distance away; as the new lieutenant flashed a signal, the two huskies threw themselves upon Jericho in an effort to flatten the huge African.

Maxie uttered a cry of warning. He wanted no more trouble in the restaurant. But the brawl that followed was even shorter than Maxie could have hoped. As the first ruffian grappled Jericho, the big fellow wheeled away and swung backward against an unoccupied table. With one hamlike hand he caught the gorilla’s neck.

The second thug loosed a punch. Jericho’s grinning face bobbed backwards. The upswinging fist scarcely grazed his chin. Jericho’s free arm shot forward like a long piston. The big hand at the end of it caught the puncher at the side of the neck.

Each of the struggling gorillas was in a titanic grasp. They might have punched their way free had Jericho allowed them opportunity, but the giant lost no time in his next purpose.

He swung both arms inward with all his force. Two heads cracked, foreheads foremost. Jericho shoved his fists forward and released his grip. The thugs succumbed dizzily. One flopped completely to the floor; the other sagged against the table, his hand to his head.

“Say,” exclaimed Lingo, “that was something!” He looked at his lieutenants and saw that they shared his enthusiasm. “Did you ever see anything like that before? This guy could do more than a crew of bouncers.”

A warning cry from Maxie. Lingo and the lieutenants swung about. One gorilla was still out; but the fellow against the table had come suddenly to his senses. They heard a venomous snarl as the thug staggered to his feet, yanking a gun.

Jericho swooped forward. His big hand grabbed the gorilla’s wrist and twisted it upward. A cry of pain; the gun clattered to the floor. Grinning Jericho twisted slowly until the gorilla was forced to drop upon his back. The big fellow released his hold so the thug could fall. There was no anger or meanness in Jericho’s action; but the gorilla had not lost his viciousness.

As Jericho started to step away the prone thug shot his hand out to regain his gun. His fingers clutched the weapon but they never raised it from the floor. Jericho stopped him without the trouble of stooping.

With a quick step, the African planted his huge foot upon both hand and gun and held them pressed against the floor.

The gorilla snarled; then subsided as he heard a sharp word from Lingo. Jericho removed his foot.

Muttering oaths, the gorilla picked up his gun and pocketed it. His companion was now rising from the floor. Lingo ordered both of them back into their booth. He looked at Louie; then at Buzz.

“Hawkeye sold me on that idea of his,” announced Lingo, “and this is the guy for the job. He’s getting it beginning with tonight.”

Fishing in his pocket, Lingo produced a card and scrawled an address on it, He brought out a roll of bills and peeled off some hank notes which he proceeded to hand Jericho. He ordered the big fellow to show up at the address given. Jericho, voluble with thanks, left the restaurant.

IT was nearly midnight when Hawkeye strolled into Lingo Queed’s apartment, to find a new arrangement. A pair of lieutenants were about to take their leave; but no gorillas were in attendance. In their place was a lone bodyguard: Jericho.

Lingo clapped Hawkeye on the shoulder. The big shot began to congratulate the little spotter on the suggestion that he had made that afternoon. Chuckling, Lingo recounted the circumstances which had led to his chance acquisition of Jericho.

The lieutenants were leaving, and Hawkeye planned to do the same. They were in an inner room of the apartment — a place which apparently served as Lingo’s private abode for it was equipped with desk and telephone as well as bed.

Seeing that his guests were going, Lingo accompanied them to the outer door of the apartment; then instructed Jericho to remain on guard there.

Hawkeye the last to go out, saw Lingo returning to the privacy of his own inner room. Then Jericho closed the door. Following the lieutenants, Hawkeye maintained his composure while he passed the cordon of gorillas who still served as outer guards. He reached the street and shuffled along the block; then, for the first time, Hawkeye grinned.

He was on his way to make another report to Burbank. It would be a good one, for Hawkeye had done more than merely get himself in right with Lingo Queed. He had paved the way for Jericho’s entrance also. For Jericho’s arrival at Brindle’s restaurant had been a timely one.

Like Hawkeye, Jericho was working for The Shadow. Two aids were now on duty to keep tabs on all that passed at Lingo’s. The Shadow had competent men ready for the future. With Jericho at Lingo’s, Hawkeye was now free to trail Buzz Dongarth. That would prove an easy task.

LATER, Burbank, seated before a switchboard in a quiet room, plugged in to form contact with his chief.

In methodical tones, Burbank delivered verbatim a final report that he had received from Hawkeye.

Through the earphones which Burbank wore came the soft whisper of a sinister laugh that carried a strange tone of mirth.

Burbank withdrew the plug. He had heard that parting laugh before; and usually he accepted it without expression of his own. But tonight, Burbank indulged in a sly dry chuckle. The fact that The Shadow had planted two aids with Lingo Queed was a bit of irony that Burbank relished.