Miss Callaghan Comes to Grief Page 10

  “These dames like to see money. They won’t like this, boss.”

  Raven smiled. His thin lips just showed his teeth. It was more of a grimace than a smile. “They’re not supposed to like it,” he said. “They’re goin’ to do as they’re told.”

  The three exchanged glances. “Rough stuff again, boss?” Little Joe asked.

  “Ever been to Reno?” Raven said. “I have. Know what they do to a dame who won’t play ball? They pour turpentine on her belly. They play ball all right after that.”

  There was a long silence. The three digested that piece of information. “I guess that hurts all right,” Lefty said. “Gee! I’d hate that to happen to me.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you as it hurts them,” Raven said.

  “You think about it.” He got to his feet. “I’m goin’ to the bank to get some dough. I’ll stake you guys to a roll. You’ve got to get yourselves some new clothes. Don’t forget you’re livin’ at the St. Louis from now on.

  When you’re fixed you’ve got to start work.” He broke off abruptly and stood listening.

  The others sat very still.

  Through the closed window they could hear a lot of shouting in the street. Raven took two quick steps to the window and threw it up. He looked down and then turned away.

  “It’s out,” he said briefly. His eyes were very bright. “They’re tellin’ the world that Mendetta’s dead.”

  The others made a move to the window, but he stopped them. “You’ve got to work fast now,” he said. “The sooner we’re organized the quicker we make dough.”

  He went out of the room hurriedly.

  The three made a dash to the window. Across the road they could see a newsvendor standing busily handing out papers. When the crowd thinned a little they could read his placard: MENDETTA AND MOLL SHOT TO DEATH

  Lefty heaved a big sigh. “Didn’t I tell you that guy was somethin’?” he said proudly.

  19

  June 6th, 12.5 p.m.

  GRANTHAM’S OFFICE door burst open and Lu came in. He shut the door hurriedly and waved a newspaper. “It’s out already,” he said excitedly. “Look, boss, they’re playin’ it on the front page.”

  Grantham reached out and took the paper. He glanced at it and then tossed it on one side. “Quicker than I thought,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “There’s goin’ to be a lot of guys yellin’ at me very soon.”

  Lu sat on the edge of the desk. “That dame Perminger,” he said. “Was it the right thing to turn her over to Carrie?”

  Grantham looked at him coldly. “Why not?”

  “Suppose she gets away an’ talks?”

  “What do you want me to do? Finish her?”

  Lu nodded. “That would have been a lot safer.”

  “Listen, I’m the guy with brains. I want to keep that dame just where I can reach her in a hurry. You and I are under Raven now. As long as he brings in the dough, it’s all right with us. Have you thought that, maybe, he won’t succeed? Suppose we don’t get anythin’ better out of this change−over? Would you like the job of shifting Raven?”

  Lu glanced away. “Where’s this leadin’ to?”

  “As long as we’ve got a witness that Raven killed Mendetta we’ve got Raven where we want him. If he slips, then the Perminger dame goes to the cops with my love.”

  “Yeah? And she spills that you’ve been holding her in a knockin’−shop.”

  Grantham’s thin mouth twisted into a smile. “She’ll do what she’s told, and she’ll say what I want her to say.”

  Lu raised his eyebrows. “She may be tough,” he said.

  “Carrie likes ’em tough.” Grantham reached forward and knocked the ash off his cigarette. “I’ve told her to start softenin’ her as soon as she comes to the surface. Carrie knows her job.”

  “If Raven gets to hear about this it’s goin’ to be just too bad for you.”

  “Raven won’t hear about it. Carrie knows me well enough not to open her mouth. You’re the only other one. If you say anythin’ to him you’ll only do yourself dirt. You an’ me get along all right, don’t we?”

  Lu nodded. “Sure,” he said. “I was just thinkin’ of Carrie.”

  The phone bell rang sharply. Grantham picked it up.

  A girl said, “Judge Hennessey wants you.”

  “Put him on the line,” Grantham said. “It’s that old heel Hennessey,” he whispered to Lu.

  Hennessey’s voice sounded agitated. “What’s this about Mendetta?” he demanded. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, Judge, I guess it’s true all right. He was shot last night.”

  “Who did it?”

  “We ah want to know that.” Grantham winked at Lu.

  “Listen, Grantham, what are you doin’ about it? I want to know where I stand. Who’s goin’ to take over?”

  “It’s all right, Judge, Tootsie fixed everything up with me months ago. He was expectin’ trouble. Yeah, he left everythin’ in my hands.”

  “In your hands?” Hennessey’s voice sounded doubtful. “Can you carry on?”

  “Sure I can carry on. Mendetta left everythin’ straightforward. The thing runs itself now, Judge.”

  “I see.” There was a long pause, then he went on, “You been through the books yet?”

  “Just this minute startin’ on them, Judge. You don’t have to worry. We want guys like you around.”

  “Of course you do,” the Judge snapped. “Your outfit would look mighty sick without me. Mendetta sent it to me on the first of the month. You’d better do the same.”

  “That’s okay with me, Judge. First of the month? Sure, it’ll be along.”

  “Well, I wish you luck, Grantham. Maybe it does run on its own power. You watch it, won’t you?”

  “I’ll watch it.” Grantham hung up. “Rat number one,” he said, pursing his mouth. “Wanted to know if his rake−off was to continue. Didn’t care a damn that Tootsie was dead. Just dough.”

  Lu grinned. “It ain’t every organization who’s got a Judge in its pocket,” he said. “That guy may be expensive, but he’s done some nice work for us.”

  Grantham unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out a little leather−bound note−book. He flicked through the pages and then, finding what he was looking for, he studied the page carefully. “Yeah,” he said; “last year he had seventeen of our girls before him. Twelve dismissals, four warnings and one small fine. Yeah, I guess he’s worth the dough all right.”

  Once more the phone rang. “Yeah?” Grantham said, again picking up the receiver. “Yeah, it’s Grantham speaking. Is that you, Mr. Hackensfield?… How are you?… Mendetta? Sure we know he’s dead…. Yeah, too bad…. No, you don’t have to worry…. Sure we want you to work along with us. First of the month?… Yeah, we’re lookin’ into it right now…. Sure you’re useful…. That’s all right, Mr. Hackensfield. It’ll be along.” He hung up.

  Lu said, “They like their dough, these guys.” Grantham nodded. “The District Attorney wanted to know if Mendetta’s death was goin’ to make any difference to his income,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “This is goin’ on all day, Lu. I may as well get used to it.”

  “Are you makin’ any changes?”

  Grantham shook his head. “Raven’s seen the list. He wants it to go on for a time. When that guy’s settled down he might start somethin’. He’s wise. He’s waitin’ until he’s strong enough to get tough.”

  Lu moved towards the door as the phone went again. “I’ll leave you to it, boss,” he said. “See you in church.” He went out of the office.

  Grantham grimaced and picked up the phone. “Mr. Poison wants you, Mr. Grantham,” a girl said.

  “Put him through.” A cold, hard gleam came into Grantham’s voice. “Grantham?”

  “That’s right. I wanted a little word with you, Mr. Poison…. Sureabout Mendetta. You’re wonderin’ about those shares?… So am I…. That’s right, I said I was wonderin’ too…. Sure I’ve taken over. Mendetta left everythi
n’ in my hands…. Why? Well, I’m the only guy who knows how the business is run…. That’s right.”

  Poison said furiously, “He’s crazy to have left it to you. You don’t understand this business, Grantham. I’ve got to safeguard my investment. You’ve got to find someone who can look after the outside organization. You stick around all day in the Club. You’ve got to have someone outside watching those women. They’re lazy by nature. Mendetta understood them. He got the best out of them.”

  Grantham smiled unpleasantly. “Take it easy,” he said. “I told you I’m runnin’ this business, and I am. I don’t care a damn about anythin’ you say, so leave off throwin’ your weight around.”

  “By God! You can’t talk to me like this,” Poison exploded. “Half my money’s financing this business, and I’ve got a right to say how it should be run.”

  “You’ve got a right to receive dividends when they come due,” Grantham said sharply, “but that’s all. I’m the boss around here and don’t you forget it.”

  “You be careful how you talk to me,” Poison said, his voice thick with rage. “A word in the right direction would make things mighty unpleasant for you.”

  Grantham laughed. “Forget it, Poison,” he jeered. “You can’t scare me with that stuff. What about you?

  How would you look if it got around that half your money comes from brothel investments? I’ve got your signatures, don’t forget.”

  There was a long pause, then Poison said more mildly: “Don’t let us quarrel, Grantham.”

  Grantham nodded. “We won’t quarrel. Don’t you worry about the business. If it doesn’t keep up its returns I promise you I’ll have a talk with you in three months’ timehow’s that?”

  “Very well. I’ll see how you manage for three months.”

  “By the way, Poison, how come your paper was the first on the street with the news?”

  “I’m not responsible for that,” Poison said, his voice sinking to a very mild note. “I’ve got a crime reporter who’s pretty good on his job.”

  “Yeah? He’s too good, Poison. He’s cut my working time down badly. I reckoned on another twenty−four hours to get organized. There might be a little trouble with the bookers now.”

  “He knows all about it,” Poison said grimly. “I’ve told him to lay off the case.”

  “It’s a bit late now,” Grantham said. “I suppose it’s Jay Ellinger?”

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “I know him all right. He’s been snoopin’ around a little too much lately. Can’t you send him out of town?”

  “Well, I could.”

  “I’d like you to do that. He makes me nervous. Can’t you send him somewhere out of the way for a little while? I want time to get organized, and I think he’s gettin’ a little too near the truth.”

  Poison thought a moment. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll get him to cover the Tammany Hall trial. That’ll keep him in New York for at least a month. Every paper is sending a reporter. He can’t refuse to go. I could get him on the black list if he did.”

  Grantham sighed with relief. “Do that, Poison, and I’ll guarantee you results.”

  “Consider it done,” Poison said, and hung up.

  Grantham replaced the receiver and relaxed. So far as he could see it was going all right. It depended a lot on Raven. If Raven’s ideas were good the organization would hold together. After all, Mendetta had built it up on sound lines. He had over two hundred girls working for him. He had the Club, which paid very well, and his protection rackets were bringing in big dough. Yes, on the face of it it looked all right.

  Grantham reached for another cigarette as the phone rang again.

  20

  June 6th, 2.45 p.m.

  BENNY MADE up his mind to get drunk. He couldn’t take any more. From the time Jay called the Homicide Bureau he had been pushed around as if he’d been the one who had shot Mendetta.

  Cold−eyed cops had come into his apartment and looked him over. They had asked him questions about Sadie. They wanted to know where she was. When he showed them the letter she’d written they didn’t believe a word of it.

  Carter, the officer−in−charge, had taken him into a corner. “See here, Perminger, your tale stinks. Why was Mrs. Perminger alone in this apartment all night?”

  Benny clutched his head. “I keep tellin’ you,” he groaned, “she an’ I had a tiff. So I walked out on her.”

  “What was the quarrel about?”

  Benny tried to explain, but Carter sneered at him. “You mean to tell me that you walked out of this joint because your wife objected to you lookin’ at dames? Now, think about it. Isn’t that the lousiest story you’ve ever heard?”

  “Well, it wasn’t only that. She an’ I were at the fights, an’ by accident I got my head between some dame’s knees”

  Carter’s eyes bulged. “You did what?” he said.

  Benny wrenched at his collar. “Yeah, that’s right. You see, she was sittin’ right behind me…”

  Carter turned away. “Hi, Murphy, this guy’s got a hot one here. He goes around sticking his head between dames’ knees.”

  Murphy raised his eyebrows. “Well, tell him to stop doin’ it. Tell him one thing leads to another.”

  Carter scowled at Benny. “You gotta be careful what you do, guy,” he said. “We can’t take you in for that, but mind it’s your head next time.”

  And so it went on. The cops were far too excited looking at the dead bodies of Jean and Mendetta, hunting through the desk and drawers, to be really interested in Benny. When he tried to bring up about Sadie they told him to go down to the Missing People’s Bureau.

  Finally he gave up and sat down to wait for them to go. When they were through photographing the bodies, testing for finger−prints and ransacking the apartment. Carter found a little time to speak to him again.

  He said, “We’ll want you, buddy, so stick around. There’s goin’ to be a big stink over this, an’ you’re goin’

  to be right in the middle of it. When we want you we’ll send for you.”

  They all went off after that and left Benny alone. So he decided to get good and drunk.

  A little while later Jay found him, sitting in his armchair, a bottle of Scotch by his side and a glass clutched firmly in his hand.

  Jay looked at him. “Hey, soak,” he said, “anythin’ left for me?”

  Benny got hastily to his feet. “Am I glad to see you?” he said, shaking hands vigorously. “Sure, have a drink. I’ll get you a glass.”

  Jay pushed him back into the chair. “I’ll get it,” he said. “You take it easy.”

  When he came back from the kitchen, holding a glass, Benny had just given himself a long shot.

  “Wait a minute,” Jay said hastily, taking the bottle away. “You’ve got to keep sober for a while.” He poured himself out two fingers and sat down on the edge of the table. “Listen, buddy, I want to talk to you.”

  Benny shook his head. “I can’t stand any more of it,” he said. “Those cops have been making my conk buzz.”

  “Never mind about the cops. You an’ me’ve got a job of work to do. You want to find your wife, don’t you?”

  “Why, goddamn it, of course I do.”

  “All right, then. Now listen. You don’t know anythin’ about how a murder is investigated. Well, I do. I’ve been watchin’ these guys. They’re puttin’ on a front. They don’t want to find out who killed Mendetta. They don’t want to find out where your wife is. So they fool around, ask a lot of bull questions and then leave it at that. Maybe they’ll forget all about you.”

  Benny sobered. “That’s cock−eyed,” he said. “It’s their job to find out things like that.”

  Jay smiled grimly. “That’s what you think, but you don’t know anythin’. This is serious, Perminger. If you’re not ready to do somethin’ your wife’ll never be found.”

  “What have I got to do?”

  “I’ll explain things so you can understand. Do you kn
ow what Mendetta did for a livin’?”

  Benny shook his head. “I know he’d got plenty of dough,” he said. “And I’ve heard he was mixed up with some rackets. What they are I don’t know.”

  Jay nodded. “Well, I’ll tell you. He was runnin’ brothels.”

  Benny blinked. “You sure of that?” he said.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Mind you, I wouldn’t like to earn my dough that way, but brothels are necessary, ain’t they?”

  “Not Mendetta’s brothels. I’ve heard he fills them by Slave methods. I don’t want to scare you, buddy, but I think your wife’s in one of his houses right now.”

  Benny stared at him. “What!” he said.

  Jay nodded. “I think so, Perminger.”

  “You’re crazy!” Benny said, his voice rising. He got to his feet. “That’s a goddamn dirty lie, and you know it. Take it back, you heel, or I’ll kick the nuts off you.”

  Jay reached out and shoved him in his chest. Benny flopped over into the chair again. “Quiet,” Jay said.

  “You’ve got to listen to this. You don’t know how deep it goes.”

  Benny said between his teeth, “You’re goin’ to be sorry for this, you heel!”

  “Aw, shut up; let me tell you. Mendetta’s dead. Who killed him? Some guy who thinks he can make more dough out of the racket. There’s Grantham at 22nd Club. It might be he, but I don’t think so. He hasn’t the guts. Never mind who it is just yet. Mendetta’s girls never had a conviction. Time after time I’ve been in court when one of them was brought in for soliciting, and every time they got off. Every time one of his girls came up Judge Hennessey was the guy who found them not guilty. Why? Ever heard of corrupt judges? All right.

  Mendetta must have had a lot of protection. That means he paid out a lot of dough. When he was killed, I’m bettin’ those guys who got regular dough started gettin’ scared. If they find the guy who killed Mendetta they won’t get any more easy dough. They’re givin’ him a run. If he keeps up payment, as Mendetta did, then he’s safe. That’s the way the racket is worked in this town.”