The Code

Eight

I had just arrived in San Francisco and had Hawk on the telephone.

"You've been in San Diego? Which of the torrid numbers in the little black book is there?" he asked in his most sardonic voice.

"Therese. A lovely girl," I said. "And as sweet as a coral snake."

"I must hear about her sometime. But for the time being, business. Have you made any progress?"

"I have the name and description of a member of Moose's gang. His name's Jake Hoyle."

"We can run a check on him in law enforcement files, but that route didn't give us much on Moose. The research people checked with the FBI and ran computer searches on the name Edward Jones. Nothing. A rundown on the basis of the sketchy description you gave us got the same results."

"I'm not surprised. The man's apparently very good at his trade. So good he's probably never been apprehended by the law. There's no telling how many unsolved heist jobs across the country were his work."

"Well, N3, what next?"

I told him about the attack on me at the motel and the information I'd forced out of Marco Valante's lieutenant. "There's something the research division can do for me. Find out the names of Frank Abruze's worst enemies, especially any former foes of his who might now be sitting on the Mob's board of directors."

"I can give you that off the top of my head. It was part of the Abruze file accumulated before you entered the picture. There's a man named Loggia who was an Abruze rival when they were young thugs on their way up. And there's Rossi. They're both on the Mafia's ruling council"

One name was familiar. "Lew Rossi?"

"Lew the Doctor. Gambling, prostitution, and narcotics. He and Abruze had different views on the Asian deal and they had clashed before on the drug issue," Hawk said. "Nick, tell me what you're thinking."

"This joker in the deck, the man who killed Meredith, sent a killer to Bonham to hit the girl, and took a shot at me at the motel. I think he's in the Organization's top echelon. He must have been at the meeting where Valante heard about me. It's the best explanation for the knowledge he seems to have of the Mafia and of our organization."

"If you're right, what's his purpose?"

"I think he set Frank Abruze up for a kill. The $200,000 was the payoff. He told Moose, 'I know where you can pick up two hundred grand if you'll do a job for me while you're at it.' Now he's in a bind. He can't let the Brotherhood find him out. He didn't want Sheila Brant to talk to anyone and he doesn't want us to bring in Moose."

"That would explain some things that have happened," Hawk agreed. "But for the present, our best bet is still the little black book."

"I'm working on it," I said.

The telephone beside the bed rang sharply. I sat up. The hotel room was dark. I put the telephone receiver to my ear. It was the operator, reminding me that I had left a call for 8 p.m.

"Thanks," I said. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I turned on the lamp and checked under the bandage on my chest. I was healing nicely on the surface, but I carried wounds that weren't visible.

I had been dreaming of Sheila Brant. I had relived the moment when I found her body in the kitchen of the house in Bonham. Since her death, she had been on my mind more often than I would have wanted anyone to know. Although I had known her only briefly, something had rippled between us, an electricity that had been mostly sexual but had held the promise of more.

From the window of the hotel room I saw the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. Now I had come to look for a girl named Penny, hoping she would give me the key to the whereabouts of those who had killed Sheila and David Kirby.

Penny's name was the third Moose had written in the little black book that had led me to Trudy and Therese. "Penny. Great boobs," read Moose's notation at the top of the page he devoted to the girl. I couldn't imagine hers being any greater than Trudy's. Below that comment, Moose had listed the sexual acts Penny performed with special skill. If Moose was a qualified judge, and apparently he was, Penny was almost as rare as a Stradivarius.

I put up the book and dressed. I had slept for five hours and I felt keen, alert. This was going to be a night to remember. Tonight I was going to Liz Burdick's cathouse.

The mansion, erected after the earthquake and fire that had ravaged San Francisco in 1906, sat on top of a hill. It was the city's most famous bordello and the woman who ran it was a legend in her own time. A playwright had once wanted to make her life story the basis for a Broadway musical. Liz Burdick had reportedly told him thanks, but she didn't need the publicity. A maid answered the door and showed me into an old-fashioned parlor where lush red draperies hung. The furniture was antique, the carpet an inch thick. I doubted that the Governor's mansion in Sacramento was furnished as well.

Liz Burdick came into the room and the maid closed the double doors behind her and left us alone. I tried not to look dazzled. I had expected an older woman. Liz Burdick was only in her thirties.

Her long gown swept the rug as she moved toward me and gave me a cool, slender hand and looked me directly in the eye. "You're a little early, but I'll call some of the girls down. I'm sure I have some you'll like," she said.

"It was arranged that I'd see Penny."

"Yes, we talked about her when you called, but she won't be in tonight. I hoped you'd try someone else," she smiled.

Her eyes were a cool jade green and appraising despite the smile she wore. I wondered if I should have Bed to her. I had said I was a businessman in town for a convention and a friend had suggested I pay a visit to her house.

"Penny is one of our most popular girls, but we have others just as attractive. I could make a choice for you if you trust my judgment," she suggested.

"I'm sure your taste is excellent, Miss Burdick."

"Mrs. Burdick," she corrected me. "I'm a widow." Her long ash blonde hair shimmered in the light and she moved with a sensual grace as she crossed to a chair and sat down.

"But I'm interested only in Penny." I gave her what I thought was a guileless smile. "My friend did quite a selling job on her."

"In that case, you'll just have to wait until the next time you're in San Francisco."

"What's wrong with tomorrow night?"

"Penny won't be here, I'm afraid."

"Mrs. Burdick, do the visiting fireman a favor. Tell me how I can get in touch with Penny. If she doesn't live here, give me her address. I could call her up and maybe arrange something."

"We have rules here, you know. We don't give out information like that about our girls. They have a right to a life of their own when they aren't working."

She was growing cooler as I grew insistent.

Stabbed by a sudden suspicion, I said, "Are you trying to prevent my seeing her?"

She smiled and didn't answer, but her manner was response enough.

The maid came into the room after knocking discreetly. She brought a tray with a pair of drinks on it. I sat with a glass in my hand and wondered why the madam was giving me the VIP treatment when she apparently had no intention of allowing me to see Penny.

"When I called, I asked to speak to Penny, but I got you. Why was that, Mrs. Burdick?"

"Because she wasn't here, obviously. At the time, I believed she'd be back later in the day. I was mistaken."

I rattled the ice in my glass, but I didn't take a drink. "Where is she?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." She didn't raise her voice, but her eyes were steely now.

(Scowling, I put my glass down. I didn't trust her. "Our girls take vacations, you know. They visit relatives. They get sick. They're like anyone else, despite what you may hear."

I hated to pull a gun in the genteel surroundings of the classiest cathouse in San Francisco, but the measure seemed to be necessary.

Liz Burdick raised her eyebrows as the Luger slid into my hand. However, she looked something less than surprised.

"Now we're getting down to the real business at hand, aren't we, Mr. Harper?"

"The gun is to let you know that I'm serious. Very serious."

"Penny has left us for a while. I can't be any more definite than that."

Dealing with her was like dealing with a woman shielded by a wall of ice.

She set her glass down. Every move she made was like poetry. "Are you interested in telling me why you carry a gun, Mr. Harper?"

"People keep trying to put bullets in me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But we live in violent times. Now that you're pointing the weapon at me, what am I supposed to do?"

"I hoped it might shake you up a little. I underestimated you." I stood up and holstered the Luger. "I'm looking for a man who carried Penny's name in his address book. A big man called Moose, and sometimes Edward Jones. He's a tough character."

"No such person has ever been in this house."

"I want to ask Penny about him."

"I'm sorry. It can't be arranged. You'd better leave, Mr. Harper."

I didn't move. I stood looking at her and said, "Name your price."

"I don't sell information."

I grinned at her. "I'm not talking about information."

This time she was surprised. "You mean, for one of my girls?"

"No, Mrs. Burdick. Not one of your girls."

She understood. And damn her, she smiled and met my eyes. "That would be very expensive. The best is always expensive."

"I want the best," I said.

I stretched out on the bed and watched Liz disrobe. Her limbs glinted golden-tan in the light from an antique lamp. Her waist was slender and her shoulders small, but her breasts were large and full. They swayed as she moved toward me. Like her face, her body was well kept, in superb condition.

"What do you think this will get you? Other than the obvious, I mean."

"You interest me. I want to find out what makes you tick," I said.

She laughed huskily. "You don't find out about a whore by taking her to bed. A whore is an actress and the bed's a stage." She leaned over me and put her mouth on mine. Her tongue crawled between my lips and her hand slid down my thigh. "But I am not a whore. Do you understand that?"

"Not really," I said.

"I do not service my clients. My girls do that. I am not for sale."

"Then why did you accept my offer?"

"It wasn't an offer," she said. "It was a challenge."

I pulled her down on the bed. My hands slid over her body. I felt her fingers working on the buttons of my shirt. I helped her by sliding it off. When she saw my bandaged wound, she asked no questions. Her composed features grew flushed as I made love to her. Her tongue darted out for mine, the hands stroking my back suddenly tensed, and then she surged under me with a wild cry...

"Well, how was it?" she asked.

"Like you said, you're the best."

"So are you, Ned Harper. Aside from that, what are you? A gunman, a cop, what?"

"Closer to a cop."

She touched the bandage. "This is a bullet wound, isn't it?"

"Compliments of a friend of the man you claim you never saw."

"Do you think I'm going to help you just because you went to bed with me?"

"I'll find him with or without your help. He has killed at least five people. One happened to be a close friend of mine. One was a beautiful woman. He broke her neck."

"Stop it," she said in a harsh voice. "Moose came here twice. He wasn't my typical customer. He was crude and violent and I could tell he was a criminal. But he had known Penny before she started here. She said he was a friend. I told her he was no good. I was glad when he didn't show up again after the second visit."

I kissed the back of her neck. "Where is she, Liz?"

"I wasn't protecting Moose. I was helping Penny. She said she didn't want to see you, that it would endanger her life."

"How did she know that?"

"She didn't elaborate. She left in a hurry, as soon as I promised I wouldn't give her away." Liz twisted in my arms. "Maybe Moose has been in contact with her. Is that what you re thinking?"

"It's possible."

"I know where she's staying. I don't know if I want to tell you. The information could get you killed if Moose is with her."

"Tell me," I said.

She sighed "The place is an old summer cottage outside of town. I'll write down the directions for you." She rose and walked to an antique writing table. She moved beautifully. She had a small, hard behind, like a young girls.

I watched as she stood at the table and wrote on a dainty scrap of blue stationery. Her full breasts swayed when she moved. The light played on her sleek shoulders. She was a genuine blonde, golden between the thighs.

Soundlessly I left the bed. I reached around her and caressed her breasts. I cupped them in my palms and toyed with her nipples, feeling them grow hard again.

Tilting her head, she stood motionless, enjoying my caresses. I could smell her hair, the perfume on her body.

"I'm glad I came to San Francisco," I said.

Slowly she leaned against me, then turned and let her head fall on my shoulder. "How long do you have, Ned?"

"Long enough," I said.

Her hand gently touched my face. I picked her up and carried her back to the bed...

The house where Penny was staying sat high on a bluff outside San Francisco. Liz's directions had been easy to follow. I parked fifty yards away from the house at the side of a deserted road, got out of my car, and quietly closed the door. The night air was cool and damp, the ground wet from a summer rain. On each side of me, the woods had grown thick with underbrush that crowded the edges of the road.

I could see a car near the house's front door. Approaching cautiously, I passed the car and crouched under one of the lighted windows of the house. Inside, two people were talking. I heard their voices although I couldn't make out their words. One of the voices belonged to a man.

My Luger in my hand, I turned the corner of the house. I suddenly felt tight inside. My search might be nearing an end.

I walked on the balls of my feet, moving quickly through the shadows. As I arrived at the front door, I heard the voices growing louder. The people were coming out. Turning, I looked for a hiding place. The man's footsteps, loud and hard, were at the door. I darted to the parked car and ducked behind it.

Light flooded out into the night, painting a yellow stripe along the ground. The man's figure breached the doorway. It was not Moose. He was not nearly the size of the gravel-voiced giant. I felt the sharp cut of disappointment.

"Lock the door," the man said to his companion, a girl I only glimpsed. He moved down the steps. His stocky shape looked familiar. So did the choppy steps he took as he approached the car.

He didn't even glance in the direction of my Ford parked down the road. He opened the door of his own car and got in. The house's front door had closed and the girl had disappeared.

The man turned the ignition key. I heard the motor stir and felt the car start a sluggish movement as the man shoved the gear into reverse. I grabbed the handle of the door on my side and jumped inside the car as the man backed away from the house.

He slammed on the brakes. "What the hell?"

"I've got a gun, so take it easy. Turn on the overhead light. I want to see what you look like."

He had dark hair and a hard face. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and I could see the tattoo of an anchor on his forearm.

"Jake Hoyle's the name, isn't it?"

"You should be dead," he said. "Sid put a bullet in you."

"I remember the occasion." I swiped him in the face with the Luger. Just hard enough to make sure I had his complete attention. "Where is Moose?"

"You don't want to see him. You're out of your league. Moose eats guys like you for dessert."

"I thought he preferred to beat up women."

"Listen, the wisest step you could take would be to get out of this car right now and go somewhere a thousand miles from here."

That night in Idaho was burning in my mind, vivid again, filling me with fury. I was remembering how Sid had calmly put a bullet in me while I lay bound and helpless. I was remembering Sheila Brant and David Kirby.

I jammed the Luger against his throat so hard that he gasped. "I asked you a question. If you don't answer it, I'll blow your brains all over the seat of this car."

Hoarsely he said, "I'm going to meet Moose now."

"Good. I'll go along with you."

"It's your funeral." At least he hoped it was.

He cast occasional sidelong glances in my direction as he drove. "Moose knows about you. He knows you're some kind of a federal agent."

"How did he find that out?"

"He has connections. He has them right up to the top of the Organization. You're going to get yours, mister. You're living on borrowed time."

I put a cigarette in my mouth. "You've got a lighter of mine. You took it off me in Bonham."

"You don't forget anything, do you? I gave the lighter to the girl."

I punched in the one in the dash. "Drive faster. I'm eager to see Moose again."

With an oath, Hoyle shoved the accelerator harder. "Rondo was right. You're crazy."

"Rondo told me he didn't know where you were."

"He didn't, but we have a mutual friend. He made a call. I figured you'd be coming to San Francisco to see Penny. You found that address book Moose lost. You're looking up every broad in it."

"Only I don't have to look any longer, do I?"

"No. This is the end of the road for you, mister."

Without changing his tone of voice, Hoyle wrenched the steering wheel. When the car swerved, I was thrown into the dash.

I didn't see him put his hand inside his coat, but I saw the flash of the gunshot and heard its sound as he pulled the trigger. He was fast. He was very fast. But the bullet didn't hit its target. I had already dropped to the floor of the car. I didn't have time to think things out. I shot back. The Luger exploded loudly inside the closed car. Hoyle made a gurgling sound in his throat and slumped over the steering wheel.

The car was traveling along an open stretch of pavement without a curve on it. Hoyle had chosen the spot carefully. If things had worked out the way he'd planned, he would have killed me with one quick shot and would have been able to keep the car from leaving the road. But his plan hadn't worked.

The driverless car careened to the left and streaked across the road. It hit a ditch as I tried to reach the steering wheel and I was thrown against Hoyle's body. Bucking out of the ditch, the car forged through underbrush and finally came to a halt. I was amazed that it hadn't turned over.

I straightened up and pushed Hoyle back against the seat and felt for his pulse. He didn't have one. He was dead. There had been no choice but to shoot him. Still, I was bitter at the development. I hadn't wanted him dead. I wanted Moose.

I put the Luger away and pulled Hoyle's body out of the car. I got the motor started again and ground out of the brush. The car bounced over the ditch and onto the pavement again. I drove back to the house.

I had to get Penny to tell me Moose's whereabouts or I was back where I had started.

Lights were still on inside the house. I circled it and found an open bedroom window. I couldn't see Penny but I heard her. She was taking a shower. I could hear the water going.

I sat down on the back steps and removed my shoes, then picked the lock on the door. I moved quietly through a kitchen and a living room and into the bedroom.

Penny was singing in the shower. I didn't recognize the tune. Penny was no Barbra Streisand. My cigarette lighter was on the chest. I dropped it into my pocket and sat down to wait for her to finish.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a shower cap, a pair of slippers, and nothing else. We eyed each other. The surprise was mutual. She hadn't expected to find a stranger seated in her bedroom and I hadn't expected to see her in her birthday suit.

The note Moose had made about her breasts had been accurate. They were exceptional. Everything about her body was exceptional She made Raquel Welch look like a teen-age boy.

"Hey, how did you get in?" she said.

"By the back door. I picked the lock."

"You aren't a burglar, are you?"

"I'm Ned Harper. The man you didn't want to see."

"The one who talked to Liz on the telephone?" She plucked off the shower cap and shook out her hair. "You must be some kind of operator if you got her to tell you how to find me."

"We happened to hit it off."

"You know the reason I didn't want to see you. Hoyle told me you were prying into things that are none of your business. He said if you showed up, I was to avoid you and get the word to him."

"And you handled it rather neatly."

"Not neatly enough. That's obvious." She opened a closet and took out a dressing robe. "Okay if I put this on? I hate to talk business while I'm naked. Later on, if you want, I'll take it off again."

"I doubt that we'll get that friendly."

"You never know. Did you happen to run into Hoyle by any chance?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I was afraid of that. What happened to him? Nothing good, I'll bet."

"He won't be coming back."

She took the news without flinching. "He said he could take care of you by himself. I didn't believe him. They tried to kill you once and you came through it. You handled Rondo. I'd say you're pretty tough."

I wondered if I was supposed to be flattered. I said, "You know quite a lot about me."

"All that Hoyle knew. He was a big talker." She had belted the robe and was standing in front of my chair. "You're pretty talkative yourself."

"I always talk a lot when I'm scared," she confessed, "I'm afraid you'll kill me too."

I said, "I rarely kill women."

"You want a drink? I've got some liquor in the other room."

"No, thanks."

She stepped closer to my chair and opened the robe. When I didn't move, she caught my hand and placed it on her body. Apparently she believed the best defense was a good offense.

"Let's bargain," she said softly.

"What are we bargaining for?"

"My life, and anything else I can get."

"I want to know where Moose is."

Pouting a little, she pulled the robe together again. "Hoyle came to San Francisco alone. Moose is on the road somewhere."

"That isn't what Hoyle said. He said Moose was here."

"He lied to you. Moose didn't come. He let Hoyle come alone. That was a mistake. They underestimated you."

Hoyle had obviously made up the story about taking me to meet Moose. He had been stalling for time, waiting for an opportunity to go for his gun.

"Who is Moose's connection in the Mob?" I asked Penny.

"He never told anybody that. There is a man, sure, a big wheel he's had dealings with. The Organization as a whole frowns on Moose because they think he's crazy and uncontrollable. But there was one man high up who financed some heists for Moose, as a private deal between the two of them. Moose said they did each other some favors."

"You know something, Penny? You're saying a lot, but you're telling me very little."

She bit her lip. "I'm doing my best to help you. I want to save my skin." She pawed through her hair. "Let me think. They've been backtracking, trying to follow Sheila Brant's trail. They're trying to find the money she stole. But I swear to you, Hoyle didn't tell me where Moose and Craddock are now."

"Craddock," I repeated. "Tell me about Craddock."

"Sid Craddock is the third man who was in on some of Moose's heists. He took part in the Abruze kill. He's a slender man with curly hair and a baby face. That's all I can remember about him."

She had provided one piece of information of some use. I encouraged her. "Hoyle must have confided in you a lot."

"He was boasting — trying to impress me. He had the hots for me even back when I was Moose's favorite pastime," she said. "He showed good taste, Harper. I'm sensational in the sack."

"I believe it."

"Can I make you a proposition?"

I grinned at her. "I thought you already had."

"There's a big bundle of money around somewhere. Two hundred thousand dollars. That's how much they got when they hit Abruze." She pursed her lips. "It gives me the hots to think about that. I'd like to have it all changed into ones and wallow in it naked. Two hundred thousand one-dollar bills. Would you like to lay on me on a two-hundred-thousand-dollar mattress, lover?"

"I don't have your kind of imagination."

"They left it with Sheila. They split up after the Florida job and entrusted it to her. Hoyle told me that."

"Moose and his friends were wrong about Sheila. She didn't make off with the money."

"Then what happened to it?"

"She never had a chance to tell me. My guess is that it was taken from her. She was afraid to face Moose, so she ran."

Apparently I had learned everything from Penny that I was going to. I got out of my chair. She followed me to the back steps, where I put on my shoes.

She hadn't asked me any more questions about Hoyle. She wasn't exactly grieving for him, I thought.

"Hey, listen, Harper. Suppose you happen to find the money while you're trying to run Moose down. What do you do with it?"

"I haven't given it any thought."

"Two hundred thousand. It boggles the mind."

I laced my shoes. "Are you about to suggest I give it to you?"

"Well, we could share it anyway. It's Mafia money. Listen, I know about that book of Moose's that you have. You've been looking up the girls whose names were in it. I could help you out. I know my way around whorehouses real good."

"You said you were afraid of me."

"For two hundred grand. I'll walk a bed of coals, dance naked on the White House lawn, and lay the First Cavalry Division. Take me along. Harper, and let's look for the money. We could do a lot with it, and I could give you sex like you've never had before."

"No, thanks," I told her. "You forgot Hoyle much too easily."