Red Iron Nights

42

I thought a lot during the ride home, concluded that finding beautiful Miss Belinda Contague might not be healthy.

Crask and Sadler might consider me disposable once they had her in hand, under control.

My disposability probably had plenty to do with why they had chosen this particular investigator to investigate. There was one fine chance they figured I knew too much already. In fact, just to be optimistic, I was going to count on that.

So the one thing I had going for me was the fact that I hadn't found the girl yet. As long as she stayed unfound, things would stay just dandy for me.

The more I thought, the more I was convinced I had to simplify my life. I didn't have enough eyes to watch all the directions I needed to watch.

Night fell before I got home. With the darkness came rain, surprising me I don't know why. Wasn't like it was something new.

I headed up the front steps wondering how I could find Belinda Contague without seeming to find her, before I weaseled out of my troubles with Crask and Sadler.

"Where have you been?" Dean demanded before the door opened wide enough to admit me.

"What are you, my mother? You think it's any of your business, you drop in while I'm explaining to His Nibs." I could maybe drop a few housekeeping hints while I was at that. Anything to get a little cleaning done in there without having to do it myself.

Dean read me like a book. He was old and slow but far from senile. He harrumphed, headed for the kitchen, but halted as he came abreast of my office doorway. "I nearly forgot. You have a guest. In the small front room."

"Oh?" A new cat, big enough to rip my leg off? Or Barking Dog on a midnight mission?... No. Amato would be across the way swapping insanities with the Dead Man. Evangelists?

Only one way to find out.

I opened the door.

Time passed. I finally came around when the woman cracked, "You like what you see? Or are you just a mouth breather?"

"Sorry. You weren't what I was expecting."

"Then put your eyes back in their sockets, Jocko. Why surprised?"

"Your father just drafted me to find you, Belinda. In his usual smooth-talking way, he offered me the job without giving me any chance to turn him down."

That shut her up. She stared.

"His driver just now dropped me off." 1 stared back. I liked what I saw. She didn't hurt the eyes at all. She still preferred black. She still looked good in black. "You look marvelous in black. Not many women wear it so well." She would look good in—or out of—anything. She had what it took, though I got the impression she was used to hiding it.

For the moment the cat had her tongue.

I wondered where Dean had the beast hidden.

Belinda didn't match the victim profile tonight. Her hair was short, black as a raven's wing, made more remarkable by the pallor of her skin and the brightness of her lip rouge. I wondered if the pale skin was a family look, if she would resemble her father in a few years. She looked pretty much the way she had at Morley's place and not much the way she had at Hullar's. At Hullar's, probably wearing a wig, she'd fit the profile perfectly.

They're a protean breed, women.

Oh, I love them, I do, I do, however they disguise themselves.

Belinda rose like she meant to make a run for it. "My father? My father is—"

"Your father is in less than total control of his faculties. His lieutenants—who hijacked me and dragged me out to the estate—made a big show of it being his idea. Oh. Excuse me. I'm Garrett. Dean said you wanted to see me. I'm glad, too. I've wanted to meet you since that night at the Joy House."

She looked puzzled. "The Joy House?" She edged sideways. She'd changed her mind about wanting to see me.

"Weeks back. In the Safety Zone? You ran in and stole my heart. Then some brunos tried to steal you. Remember? Big black coach. Old boy with green eyes and butterflies on his breath? Your basic every-night weird kidnapping upset when the gallant knight of the streets rescued the distressed damsel?"

"You've been dieting. You were four inches taller and sixty pounds heavier then."

"Ha. Ha. That was Saucerhead. He used to be my buddy. He helped me a little. My heart was broken when you didn't stick around long enough to say thanks."

"Thanks, Garrett. You're blocking the doorway."

"No shit? You're quick. I told Saucerhead you'd be quick. I told everyone you'd be sharp. Is that a problem? Me not moving? I thought you wanted to see me."

"That was before you told me you work for the ugly twins."

"Did I say that? I didn't say that. I couldn't have said that. I have a long-standing reputation for refusing to work for them or your father—though I might let one or the other labor under the misapprehension." I tried my famous boyish grin, guaranteed to set any girl's little heart going pitty-pat.

"Stow the bullshit, Garrett. Let me out of here."

"I don't think so."

"You're not dragging me off to the uglies."

"No way. Why would I do that? My life wouldn't be worth two coppers if I did."

"Mine either. Mine especially. I don't really know about yours. Let me out of here."

"Not till I hear why you came."

"Doesn't matter now. You aren't the guy I need."

"Because I know Crask and Sadler?" I shrugged as though trying to shake off a broken heart. "Can't win them all. But you are the girl I need. I've been looking for you for weeks."

"Why?"

"It's about the people that tried to snatch you. You're their only target that got away."

She got real pale. That wasn't the reaction I'd expected. She asked, "What do you mean?"

"You've heard rumors about the killer who strings girls up and guts them?"

"I've heard talk. I didn't pay much attention."

"That's funny. I would've paid a lot of attention after somebody almost dragged me off."

"Was that them?" She was grim, suddenly. Hard, like her father.

"Yes."

"Oh." In a small voice. An I feel foolish voice.

"You and me, we're the only ones who ever saw him face-to-face and lived." She didn't really need to remember Saucerhead, did she? "And I only saw him for a second. You must've had more to do with him and his boys. You were running from them when you showed up at Morley's."

"I was working part-time at Bishoff Hullar's Dance Parlor. I don't know why. For the hell of it. I didn't do anything but dance. Some girls I knew used the place to make dates."

"I know the scam."

"One night—that night—two men tried to pick me up. Their boss had seen me, they said. He wanted to meet me. I'd be well paid for my time. I said no. They persisted. I told them to eat shit and die. They wouldn't take no for an answer. Hullar had to run them out. But they didn't go away. They tried to grab me when I left work."

Plausible. Some guys think that when a woman says no she's only being coy, possibly because so many women have only been being coy when they've said no. From what I saw at Morley's that night, those guys hadn't been long on social skills. "Why the Joy House? Funny place to run."

"Morley Dotes. I hoped his reputation would scare them off long enough to give me time to think. Then, when they came in, I hoped Dotes would get upset about them getting physical inside his place."

"He did."

"I couldn't run to my father's people. I would've had to explain why I was in the Tenderloin in the first place."

"What about the guy who wanted to meet you so bad?"

"I guess that was him in that coach. That was the only time I ever saw him."

Well, hell. Wonderful. She'd be no help unless the Dead Man found something she didn't know she knew. "Great. Back to where I started. So. Even though you've changed your mind, how come you're here? What's up?"

She studied me. "I think he's after me again. Anyway, it's somebody with that same smooth style, sending guys to talk for him. I got scared. I heard you were straight. I thought you could get him off my back."

The butterfly man had good taste if not good intentions. Belinda wasn't dressed for it, but she couldn't hide the fact that she was a looker. Her mother must have been something. She hadn't gotten those looks from her father.

"I could discourage him. Why'd you change your mind? Because I mentioned your father?"

"Because of Crask and Sadler. I'm not going to let them profit from what happened to my father. And they know it."

Should I reveal my past role? Tell her Crask and Sadler had done nothing but exploit a situation that had fallen into their laps? Didn't seem the best strategy. "There's never been any love lost between me and the uglies. When they were your dad's top boys they strained at their leashes, wanting their chance at me. Now they can pick their time. I wish I had time to worry about that. But I have to concentrate on this killer. He's about due to strike."

She was distressed again. "Then he wasn't taken by the Watch? A Captain Somebody was doing a lot of crowing a while back."

"Captain Block. His optimism was premature." I told about the two killers so far and asked her to fill me in on the dandies whose sweet talk had so impressed her that she'd come running to me.

I learned a lesson. Belinda Contague didn't listen any closer than her father ever had. "I don't get it. How come the murders keep happening?"

I shrugged. "Crazy stuff happens."

"Inside somebody's head. You didn't get the right man."

Odd. Mostly Belinda was a girl of the street, what you'd expect of a thug's daughter. But something kept sneaking through, something suspiciously redolent of refinement. She'd been away from home most of her life, a secret because Chodo hadn't wanted her to become a hostage to fortune. I had a feeling she'd learned to be a lady while she was away.

"We got it right, Belinda. Both times. Without a doubt. The killers liked to keep souvenirs, and the men we caught had them. This time we have an idea who may have caught the curse—if it moved on—but we can't find him. We can guess when his compulsion will make him kill. We've identified his three most likely victims. You're one. And somebody's been bothering you."

"Actually, I thought... " Small, sour smile.

"You thought they were Crask and Sadler's beagles and you could leave me in the middle while you did a fast fade on everybody."

She nodded. "You're not as put out as I'd expect."

"That's what I do. Get in the middle. It's easier when a pretty woman wants me there."

"Save that stuff, Garrett. I'm immune. I've heard all about you."

Checking up? I put on my best hurt look. "What? Me? The white knight?"

"The rooming house where I stay—under a name I'll keep to myself, thank you—caters to single women."

Sounded like the antechamber to heaven. I maintained a neutral expression. "And?"

"So I've heard about you. You recall a Rosie Tate?"

I gasped, choked. Should I be outraged or should I laugh? "Good old Rose. Sure, I know Rose. I did her out of a fortune by making sure the lady her brother named in his will got what she had coming. I didn't let her get her way by wagging her tail at me. Yes, I know Rose. She's got a real boner for me. I didn't know they let her out on her own." Rose Tate running loose could be a disaster worse than a platoon of serial killers. The woman was nasty. As gorgeous as they come, but nasty.

"You think she's a joke?"

"Not hardly. Not Rose. Rose is a joke like a starving saber-tooth is a joke. Make that a starving saber-tooth with a toothache." I faked a laugh. "So she still holds a grudge."

"That woman wants your head. She didn't say anything about any money."

"Rose was never one to let little things like truth and accuracy get in the way when she was creating a mood in her audience."

"Tell me about it. Didn't take two weeks before every girl in the place was ready to strangle her."

"Way it goes. It's hard to be a crowd pleaser in my racket. So what about Crask and Sadler?"

"Garrett, I don't really know. I can remember when either one of them would have died to protect me or the family name. They would have done anything to shield me from a breath of scandal. That's the way those people do things. They have this elaborate code of honor."

"I know. And part of it is that women and children are exempt. But. The last thing your father ever said to me was, look out for his baby." I don't know why I told her. It wasn't a smart move. She didn't need to know. I didn't need to hoist up a sign saying here's a way to manipulate me. "I said I would. I didn't think I'd need to. Crask and Sadler said you'd be taken care of. Maybe they had their fingers crossed."

"That sounds like them. Him and them too. My father had a thing about you, Garrett. He used to go on about honorable men. About how there were none left, except for you, and you were going to get yourself killed for your trouble."

"He didn't know me the way he thought. I have my bad moments like anybody else."

"He was funny some ways, Garrett. Besides having crotchets about you, he was always honest with his daughter."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I was never in doubt what he did. Unlike most females near his kind. As far back as I can remember, he told me all the hows and whys and wheres and dirt that makes the business go. I never thought anything was strange till he sent me off to school. Then I got embarrassed. I lay awake nights. I prayed my little heart out. Then I found out all the other girls were embarrassed by their fathers too, and half of them made up the most outrageous stories to explain why... I realized that no matter what my father did, he did love me. And that was more than most of my classmates could say."

Cue the violins, Bunky. The kingpin was a loving dad. When they were totting up the score at the gates to hell, he could tell them, "I done it all for my little girl."

Chodo was the next thing to dead, and still he kept surprising me. "Belinda, I have to admit I admired your father—even when I hated what he was and what he did to people. But all that's something we can go into later. Right now every minute brings me nearer to the time the girl killer will have to do what he's got to do to stay happy."

"What?"

"Bottom line. Some people need rougher stimulation than others. That's what the Tenderloin is all about. Providing junk for the weird-stuff junkies."

My sweet Belinda surprised me by responding in an accent neither of the street nor of the Hill. "My daddy woulda been proud a you, Garrett. Some people... Some people is just sick and cain't get it off."

"That's the heart of it, isn't it? Where's the line between what's unusual and what's unacceptable? When does weird become dangerously perverted?"

She looked me straight in the eye. "I'll let you know."

"Hey... "

Garrett.

Of course the Dead Man would yank my chain right then.