I'D before heard whispered words sound as if they'd been shouted, But Benny Bucket's did. They seemed to explode in the phone booth and echo all the way through the lobby. I felt my hand tighten on the receiver, and when I looked at Stan, his eyes were narrowed a little and his lips were set in a thin, hard line.
Both Stan and I were thinking the same thing, I knew. This might be the beginning of the end for Nadine's killer.
I took a deep breath. “Where can we meet you, Benny?” I said.
“Christ, I knew I was on to something! You mean we're in business, Pete?
Just like old times, huh, boy “We're in business,” I said. “Where do you want Stan and me to meet you?”
“I can't get out for a while, Pete. I'm on the hook to a shylock, and he's got a couple of his boys on the peep for me. If I make the street, they'll—”
“All right,” I said. “Tell me who they are and we'll get them off your back.”
“Nix, Pete. Who can tell when I'll need him again?”
“You don't want to make a meet?”
“I want to, but I can't. I guess we gotta do it on the phone.”
“It's up to you, Benny,” I said.
“Yeah, sure. You know a character named Johnny Farmer?”
“He have any other tags?”
“I don't know. All I know him by is Johnny Farmer. He ain't been around so long.”
“I never heard of him,” I said, glancing at Stan. Stan shook his head.
“He's the one, Pete,” Benny said. “Johnny Farmer. He's the guy with the sapphires. He propositioned Flossie with them.”
“Who's Flossie?”
“My wife. I brought her back from Frisco with me. A little doll, Pete; you'd love her.”
“Go ahead, Benny.”
“Well, like I say, he propositioned her with them. He picked her up in this bar and gave her a look at the earrings and said if she'd climb under the sheets with him he'd give them to her.”
“This is your wife, you say?”
“Sure. We got married in Oakland. Anyhow, she figures the stones must be paste. But even so, they're beauties, so she says okay.” He paused. “We have what they call an understanding, like. Flossie and me, we're not narrow-minded.”
“What about the earrings?”
“They're these real gorgeous blue stones, see. So Flossie figures, what the hell, it's only going to cost her an hour or two, and she ain't doing nothing at the time anyway, so okay. But this Johnny Farmer's very light in the head. In fact, he's nothing but a moron. He can't even read or write. Can't even read the menu in this joint when he buys Flossie a dinner. And so Flossie, she keeps thinking and thinking, and she sees how free this moron is with a buck, and she starts trying to figure a way to get the earrings and a little cash loot besides. Naturally, her being genteel and all, she can't just—”
“But how do you connect the earrings with the Ellison hit?” I asked.
“I'm coming to that, Pete. Like I was telling you, Flossie is setting there in the bar with this guy fooling around with her leg and telling her how good he is in bed, and all, and drinking double slugs of Scotch like it was beer. And then he starts telling her about this girl he's been trying to get next to, this Mary C., and how sorry she's going to be when she finds out how big he's scored”
“Go on,” I said.
“Well, Flossie's sitting there trying to figure an angle and at the same time trying to keep the other customers from seeing how this moron's got his hand up under her skirt, and then all of a sudden the guy yanks out a fin and tells her to go down to the corner and buy all the papers. So she does, only she forgets to give him his change, and he makes her read everything there is about this Ellison girl getting hit, Every word. The guy can't read even big print, see? He just sits there taking it all in, and when Flossie get through reading everything there is in all the papers, he grins like hell and says is she sure there wasn't anything about jewelry in the papers, and she says no, and then he says he'll give her one of the earrings if she'll go home with him right away, because he's really ready, and that he'll give her the other earring in the morning.” He paused. “Okay, so far?”
“With you all the way, Benny,” I said. “Keep going.”
“You're a sweetheart, Pete. The best. But to get back, this moron don't have much farther to go before he gets the job done right there in the booth, and the bartender is starting to look under the table and give him and Flossie the hard eye, and so Flossie starts to get a little peed. She says she thought she was going to get the earrings for Just a fast jump, and that she'd have to have a little something extra if she was going to stay all night. The guy says it's all night or nothing, and just about then in comes this Mary C., this babe he's had the hots for, and damn if he don't jump the hell up and follow her across the floor — which it leaves Flossie high and dry and mad.”
“Then, pow! I t hits her. All of a sudden she sees what the score is. Here this moron has showed her a pair of earrings, and made her read him everything about the hit in the papers, and asked her if there was anything said about jewelry, and all, but she's been so occupied she just never had a chance to connect it all up. But, then, wham! There it is, plain as hell. She was out of the joint like a big bird, and she didn't stop till she made it home.”
I waited for a moment. Then, “You finished, Benny?”
“Pretty near. But answer me something yes or no, Pete.
Is that the biggest thing I ever helped you with or is it?”
“It's big, Benny,” I said. “Very big.”
“The biggest, Pete. How could it be any bigger?”
'When did this take place?”
“Less'n an hour ago. But he ain't there now, Pete. Flossie seen him come out right after she took off.”
“Is your wife with you now, Benny?”
“Yeah, but she wouldn't talk with you, Pete. The kid's shy that way. She has a thing about cops. You know?”
“Then will you ask her what this Johnny Farmer looks like?”
“She's already told me. She says he's the tallest joker she ever saw off a basketball court. Tall and skinny as hell and got an Adam's apple on him the size of your fist. And listen — when Flossie says somebody's tall, she means tall.
She ain't no midget herself, you know. She's bigger'n me by damn near a foot.”
“What else did she say about him?”
“She says he's got these kind of crazy gray eyes and this dirty-blond hair, which grows down low in front almost to his eyes.”
“How was he dressed?”
“Jesus, hold on a minute, Pete.”
I grinned at Stan. “Wonder of wonders,” I said, covering my phone. “And still people always mumble in their beards over the way cops work with stools.”
“We'd be dead without them,” he said. “It's symbiotic.”
“It's what?”
“Symbiotic. My God, how ignorant can you get?”
“What'd you do, just look it up
“As a matter of fact, did. You like it?”
“I'm not sure. Give me a moment to think about it.”
“You sort of have to let it grow on you. Like with avocados.”
Benny's voice came back on the wire. “Pete?”
“Yes?”
“Flossie says to tell you he was rigged out in a real jazzy red cowboy shirt with lots of buttons and stitching and stuff all over it, and real tight overall pants. And she says he had on these jerky half-boots, You know, like they flop around the ankles and they've got like dog chains crisscrossed over the insteps so you clank like hell every time you take a step.”
I got out my notebook and wrote rapidly. “How old is he, Benny?”
“Flossie says about thirty.”
“And Flossie has no idea at all where we could pick him up?” I said. “If he happened to mention any place he hung out, Or—”
“He didn't,” Benny said. “Me and Flossie beat that all out before I tried to get you at the squad room,”
“What was the name of this bar?”
“Corchetti's.”
“That's the place on Greenwich Avenue, just off Twelfth?”
“That's the one. You gonna try to grab this Mary C.
“If we can.”
“I don't know how much of a thing they had going, Pete. Maybe nothing. Flossie says, from the way he talked, he hadn't scored with her.”
“You know her, Benny?”
“No, and neither does Flossie. We've just seen her around. But they'll know her in Corchetti's. She hangs out there all the time.”
“Whore?”
“Who ain't? But a junky, for sure. Even has to wear long-sleeved dresses in the summertime. You'd think a girl would have enough sense to shoot herself in the leg.”
“What's the rest of her name, Benny? Do you know?”
“That's all they ever call her,” he said. “Mary C. It's like it was one of these double names. Mary Ann. Like that.”
“We'll be going right down there,” I said.
“I know you won't be forgetting this, Pete. You got a real wonderful memory.”
“We'll have to break this up, Benny,” I said. “There's even a chance this Johnny Farmer changed his mind and went back to Corchetti's.”
“Sure, Pete. And give my love to Stan Rayder, will you? There's another wonderful guy. Wonderful.”
“So long, Benny.”
I hung up and stepped out of the booth.
“That Benny's not only a hell of a stool,” Stan said, “He's also a hell of a comedian.”
“Why so?”
“You hear what he said about your wonderful memory? Boy, that's very funny. Here you are, a guy that can't even remember to give the operator his badge number to save himself a dime.”
“You'd do better worrying about Mary C.”
“Yes, but half the time it isn't even your own dime. It's mine.”
I looked at my watch. “It's six thirty-five,” I said. “How long do you think we should keep Mary C. waiting, Stan?”
“No more than twenty minutes,” Stan said. “I've a hunch she's a very impatient girl.”