Manhunt. Volume 5, Number 1, January, 1957

Never Kill a Mistress by Carroll Mayers

Five grand is such a small amount — compared to ten.

Relax, Lieutenant; you’ll get your statement. Yeah, I know — the doc passed you the word. But I’ll make it.

Like I said, the first time I saw Heddon was one night a couple of months ago. I didn’t know who he was, then. He came out of the Drexler Building — that’s my stand — about eight-thirty, climbed into my hack.

“Toledo Arms,” he told me.

I was checking the Belmont results on the radio. I looked around, saw he was a middle-aged guy, well-built, well-dressed. I still didn’t pay him too much attention; those race results were bad news.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I flipped my flag, drove to the Toledo on Park.

Two nights later, I picked him up again, made the same run. The following week, twice more. By then we were at the small-talk stage. Baseball, the fights, the horses. Especially the horses. He kidded me once when I told him the bookies were crowding me.

I said, “Everybody got problems, Mr. Heddon.”

Using his name surprised him. I said, “I saw your picture in the financial pages. Hope you get that board promotion.”

He thanked me for my interest, gave me a dollar tip.

Yeah, by that time I knew Heddon was a financial big shot. But that newspaper article mentioned he lived with his wife at a Madison address — and that sure wasn’t the Toledo Arms. I began to get ideas. I figured Heddon had a chippie on the fire.

The third week, I was practically certain of it. Paying off at the Toledo, Heddon eyed my license suddenly, said, “I’ve been wondering, Solek. Any possibility your arranging to pick me up here at twelve-thirty?”

I kept my face straight. I figured he knew his playing around would attract less attention if he tied in with one specific hacker. I said, “Sure, Mr. Heddon, if I’m in the neighborhood. But I’ve got to keep rolling. If I’m all the way across town...”

He nodded. He was a handsome bastard — dark features, hair-line mustache, somber eyes. He pulled an extra bill from his wallet. “Let’s say you’ll... try?” he smiled.

The bill was a ten. I took it, smiled back at him. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

That’s how it went. Eight times the next three weeks I picked up Heddon outside his office, drove him to the Toledo. I missed the twelve-thirty return pickup only twice. The six times I did make it, Heddon had me drive him to his own apartment on Madison. He gave me a ten-buck tip each time.

Got a cigarette, Lieutenant? The hell with the doc; it won’t make any difference... thanks.

Now tonight. Earlier, I drove Heddon to the Toledo, but at twelve-fifteen I was up in Harlem. I was feeling sour, not too keen about dashing back downtown by half-past. The night’s take was lousy, I had a headache, and I was really jammed with the bookies.

Still, I figured I owed it to Heddon if I could make it. He’d slipped me all those heavy tips and one more wouldn’t hurt. So I got rolling, ran some lights, reached the Todelo on the dot.

He’d always been prompt to show. Tonight, though, he came out even before I’d braked, walking fast, almost running. Like he’d been in the lobby, waiting for me.

Then I got a look at his face. The guy was sweating, his lips twitching, a bleak light in his eyes.

I watched as he flopped back on the cushions. I asked, “You feeling okay, Mr. Heddon?”

He said, “I’m all right. Just a touch of indigestion—”

I started to let in the clutch; Heddon stopped me. “Wait,” he said. He was bending forward, studying me. I could see the light in his eyes changing. And he wasn’t sweating or twitching so much. He walked away from that indigestion pitch, said, “I’m in a spot, Solek. I can use your help.”

I cut the motor. “The dame?”

We’d never brought the chippie into the open before. Heddon merely nodded.

I said, “What about her?”

His eyes were hot. “She’s dead,” he told me.

I watched him as closely as he watched me. I said, “You kill her?”

“It was an accident,” he told me. “We... spent the evening. Then, ten minutes ago, we had an argument. I slapped her. She fell, cracked her skull on the coffee table.”

I said, “The cops could be nasty.”

Heddon’s jaw bunched. “They could. That’s why I can use your help. We’ll take the body away, dump it. An accident victim, head cracked on the curb. Maybe a mugger.”

I sat there looking at him. He gripped my shoulder. “Help me with this, Solek, you won’t regret it.”

I said, “It’s damned risky.”

He told me, “Five thousand, man. I’ll give you five thousand dollars.”

I thought about it. Five grand. Just for dumping a body. Five grand to live it up, quit hacking, get those lousy bookies off my back...

Yeah, I went along. I drove my hack to the rear of the building and we went up the service stairs. The chippie’s apartment was on the third floor. When we got there, we made certain nobody was in the corridor before we eased out of the stairwell. Heddon had his key ready and we slipped inside the apartment fast.

The dame’s body sprawled face up beside the living room coffee table. One glance, I could understand why Heddon had been playing around. The babe was blonde, beautiful and busty. She was wearing only a flimsy negligee. There was a nasty bruise at her left temple, but no blood.

Heddon said grimly, “I wanted to break off for awhile. Until that board promotion came through, so there’d be no chance of a scandal to foul it up. But she wouldn’t listen—”

He broke off. He said, “That’s why we’ve got to carry this off, Solek. That’s why—”

I cut him short. “So we’ve got a reason,” I said. “Now let’s get her dressed. You know where she keeps her clothes?”

Heddon nodded, disappeared into the bedroom, began slamming drawers, rattling hangers. I stood waiting for him, looking down at the dame.

Here comes the doc, Lieutenant. Ask him for some water, huh?

So we got the body dressed, got it out of the apartment, down to my hack. By that time, Heddon was sweating and twitching again and I was steaming myself.

Heddon wanted to dump the body someplace miles away, like maybe the Village, but I wasn’t risking a drive across town with a corpse. “The nearer to where she’d normally be, the less likely the cops are to doubt a legitimate accident,” I told him.

He saw my point. We sat in my hack at the rear of the building for ten minutes. Nothing happened. No lights flicking on, no voices. It looked like we’d been unnoticed.

Satisfied, I drove around to the street, parked across from the Toledo’s entrance. There were few cars, fewer pedestrians. I kept checking, finally saw the street clear. I gave Heddon the sign. We opened the door next to the curb, shoved the body into the gutter. Then I hit the gas.

“So she’s mugged crossing the street to get home,” I told Heddon. “She falls, splits her head. When she’s found—”

What’s that, Lieutenant? Headquarters got the flash an hour ago? Well, it doesn’t matter now...

There’s not much more. As soon as it seemed we were in the clear, I eased up, looked back at Heddon. I said, “About that five grand, Mr. Heddon.”

He nodded. Now that we’d carried it off, he was getting a grip again. “You’ll get it,” he told me. “Tonight. My wife’s staying with friends.”

Tonight was okay with me. I started cutting toward Madison. Heddon touched my shoulder, said, “Just one thing, Solek. I wouldn’t want you getting ideas about your position.”

I laughed at him. I said, “Don’t worry. I dealt myself in for five G’s and that’s all.”

Only it wasn’t all. I’d already been kicking the thought around. Five grand was good. But ten was better — for a start.

That’s where I made my first mistake. I figured I had Heddon over a barrel. I figured I could squeeze him, but good.

When we reached his apartment, Heddon took me into the library, pointed toward a cellarette. “Fix yourself a drink,” he told me. He moved on across the room, swung a portrait aside, began opening a wall safe.

I passed up the drink. He turned around, extending two packets of bills. He said, “There you are. Five thousand.”

I shook my head, grinning at him. “All of a sudden, I’ve changed my mind. Suppose we make it ten — for now.”

His breath sucked in, his eyes turning mean. “I warned you.”

I said, “I heard you. I’ve still changed my mind.”

For a minute he just stood there, glaring at me. Then he swung around slowly, dipped into the safe again. I figured he knew I had him, was fishing for extra cash. But when he suddenly jerked around, he was holding a stubby .38 automatic.

That’s when I made my second mistake. I didn’t think Heddon would ever use that gun.

So I let my grin spread. I said, “What the hell do you think you’ll do with that?” I began to move toward him.

He was sweating again, his lips curled back, his eyes hot. He said softly, “You can’t blackmail me, Solek. I’ll kill you first.”

I changed my grin to a sneer. I kept moving toward him and he kept backing away. I said, “Give me the gun.”

He was in a corner now, trembling. I laughed, reached for the .38. Suddenly, he knocked my hand down, grappled with me. I wrestled him around; he wouldn’t give up the gun. And then the gun blasted — three times — and the slugs tore into my guts.

I sank to my knees. A haze swirled before my eyes. The floor tipped and I slumped over on my face. Far off, I caught the sound of pounding on the foyer door and then it burst open and people were shouting...

That’s it? Yeah, just about, Lieutenant. Except for one thing. Like I said, I saw the doc give you the word. I know this’s it, so I might as well tell you the joker.

Heddon’s clean with me; it was an accident, self-defense. But the poor bastard was clean with the chippie, too. She wasn’t dead, only unconscious from a bad crack. Waiting for Heddon to come back with her clothes, I saw her eyelids quiver. That’s when I realized five grand or more was slipping right through my fingers.

Yeah, Lieutenant, I finished the chippie. I kicked her in the temple three times before Heddon got back.