Soft Centre Read online

  Angel, who had been playing with her bear, looked up and saw Jacko as he came towards them.

  ‘That’s him!’ she whispered excitedly and pointed her small finger towards Jacko who had paused for a brief moment outside the Coral bar.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Terrell asked.?‘Yes! That’s him!’

  Moe, watching, saw her point at Jacko and his black face creased into a vicious snarl. He realised at once that this child was identifying Jacko to the cops and this could only mean one thing! This child had seen them enter Henekey’s cabin!

  Toey standing behind him, and watching what was going on said, ‘What is it, honey? She fingering Jacko?’

  Moe turned savagely on him.?‘Shut it! Wipe it out of your mind! You want to stay alive, Toey?’

  As the sight of the murderous gleam in the vicious black eyes, Toey quailed.

  ‘I never saw a thing!’ he stammered. ‘Honest, I never…’?‘Shut it!’ Moe snarled.

  He watched Beigler start the car engine and then drive away towards headquarters.

  Moe paused only long enough to glare at Toey. ‘Remember… if you’ve seen anything, Toey, I’ll slit you,’ he said, and then moving fast, he ran across the street into the Coral bar.

  Jacko was about to order a shot of whisky and a beer chaser when Moe came in.

  Moe said, ‘Let’s get out of here, Jacko, and fast!’

  The expression in Moe’s gleaming eyes was enough for Jacko. He waddled after Moe, moving his enormous legs as fast as he could and panting.

  The barman watched them go, grimaced, and then returned to his task of washing glasses. *****

  It wasn’t until eight-ten o’clock that Terrell drove into his garage. He was feeling hot and tired. Having driven Angel Prescott back to the Park Motel, he was now looking forward to a shower and a good dinner.

  His wife opened the front door as he came up the drive. They kissed, then Terrell asked the age old question husbands always ask, ‘What’s for dinner?’

  ‘Chicken,’ Caroline said. ‘It’ll be ready in half-an-hour, but you have to call Henry first.’ Terrell walked into the lounge and began to shed his jacket and tie.?‘Henry?’ He looked at Caroline in surprise. ‘What’s he want?’?‘He said it was important. You call him while I get you a drink.’

  Terrell hesitated, then seeing the stern expression in his wife’s eyes, he grinned and went over to the telephone. He dialled Henry Thresby’s home number, and while he waited for the connection, he reached out a grateful hand for the whisky and soda, clinking with ice, that Caroline offered him.

  Thresby came on the line.?‘Frank? I’m sorry to disturb you, but I have something that’s bothering me. I thought I would get your advice and hear what you have to say.’

  At the sound of Thresby’s anxious tone, Terrell became alert. ‘Go ahead, Henry. What is it?’

  Briefly, Thresby told him about the telephone call he had had from Val Burnett.?‘I could be sticking my neck out, but to me, it sounds as if Mrs. Burnett could he in trouble,’

  Thresby concluded. ‘Now look, Frank, we have to be mighty careful about this. If it means nothing, Travers could descend on me, and I could lose my job.’

  ‘I think you have every reason to be worried,’ Terrell said. ‘I’m glad you called me. Now look, Henry, you leave this to me. Just forget it, will you? The less you know about it, the better. I’ll take care of it.’

  ‘For goodness sake, be careful!’?‘You know me,’ Terrell said quietly. ‘I’ll handle it. Did you keep a copy of the numbers of the bills?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’?‘Let me have the list. Send it here. That way it won’t get into the wrong hands. Okay, Henry, relax. I’ll fix it,’ and he hung up.

  Seeing the furrow between his brows, Caroline knew better than to ask questions. She went into the kitchen to serve up the meal.

  Terrell called headquarters. When Beigler came on the line, Terrell asked, ‘Got Jacko Smith yet?’

  ‘Not yet. I have men shaking down the clubs. They should pick him up any time now.’ ‘Have you someone staked out outside Smith’s apartment?’ Terrell knew he was wasting his breath as Beigler was as efficient as himself but he had to ask.

  ‘Walker and Lucas are covering the joint.’?‘I want that fat slob fast.’?‘We’ll have him before midnight. He’s playing cards in some hole. It’s just a matter of finding where he’s playing.’

  ‘Joe - there’s something else,’ Terrell said. ‘Tell Jacobs to come out here. He’s on duty, isn’t he?’

  ‘Why, sure.’?‘Tell him to hustle over. If he comes fast enough, he can have a chicken dinner with me.’ Beigler snorted.

  ‘If there’s one way to get Max to move fast, it’s the offer of a free meal.’

  As Terrell was sitting down at the table, reaching for the carving knife and fork, the front door bell rang. He grinned at his wife.

  ‘That’s Max. Put a plate for him. He must have bust every speed record in the State.’

  Max Jacobs, a lean, tall, first-year cop, came into the lounge and looked with round eyes at the perfectly cooked chicken. Terrell pointed with the carving knife to a chair.

  ‘We’ll eat first,’ he said, ‘then talk. I have a job for you.’

  Later, when Caroline was washing up, Terrell, his pipe drawing well, told Jacobs about Val Burnett.

  ‘Looks like a blackmail set up,’ he concluded. ‘We can’t move in unless she calls us, but we can be ready. I want you to be outside the bank at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. When Mrs. Burnett leaves, make sure she has the money with her and then follow her. Now look, Max, it is vitally important she gets no idea you are following her, so watch your step. Find out where she takes the money. If she goes back to her hotel, see Dulac and tell him you’re from me. Ask him to let you know if anyone goes up to her suite. If anyone does, follow whoever it is. Don’t consult the hotel detective, I don’t trust him. Got all that?’

  Jacobs nodded.?‘Okay, Chief, I’ll handle it,’ and he got to his feet. ‘I’ll be on the job at nine tomorrow.’ When he had gone, Terrell called police headquarters. He asked Beigler if there was any news yet of Jacko Smith.

  ‘Nothing so far, Chief,’ Beigler said. ‘I’m getting reports continually, but he isn’t in his usual haunts.’

  ‘Send out a State alarm,’ Terrell said. ‘I want him fast. Turn the heat on, Joe. I’m coming down.’

  ‘Okay,’ Beigler said, ‘but you don’t have to come down. I can handle it.’ ‘I know you can,’ Terrell said, ‘but I’m coming.’

  *****

  Spike Calder was a tall, emaciated Negro with flat, snake’s eyes and a perpetual grin that revealed big, gleaming white teeth. He ran the Bo-Bo Club on the waterfront that was frequented by queers and gamblers from the dock quarter of Miami.

  The big advantage of the club was that it had a secret room for meetings below the main bar and restaurant, so cunningly hidden that the police hadn’t so far discovered it.

  Spike put down the cocktail mixer and eyed the two men cautiously. So far he had never been in trouble with the police, and if he could avoid it, he was determined to steer clear of police trouble.

  ‘Evenin’, gents,’ he said with an expansive smile. ‘What’ll you have?’?‘Seen Jacko Smith?’ Marshall asked. He was a short, heavily built man with muscles of a boxer and a hard, battered face.

  ‘Not yet,’ Spike lied. ‘Maybe he’ll be in in a little while, but he hasn’t shown yet.’

  Lepski, thin, wiry and tough, leaned against the bar Counter.?‘Listen, Smokey, think twice before you open that drain in your face,’ he said softly. ‘We’re looking for Jacko … could be a murder charge. If you know where he is, now’s the time to flex your tonsils and sing. If we find he’s here or he’s been here, you’re going inside. I’d like to work you over. The best sound in this stinking town to me is the moans of a black boy.’

  Spike’s smile slipped a little.?‘I’d tell you if he was here. Look around, mister, and see for yourself. I haven’
t seen him since yesterday night.’

  The two police officers looked around the big room and then at each other.?‘If he comes in, call headquarters. That way you’ll keep out of trouble.’

  Lepski stared at Spike for a long cruel moment, then jerking his head at Marshall, he left the bar.

  Moe, hidden in the shadows, watched the two police officers walk down the street and enter yet another gambling cellar.

  Like a black ghost, he slid across the street and down the back entrance to the Bo-Bo Club. He paused long enough to listen and make sure there was no one about, then he fumbled for the hidden catch that opened the door into the secret room, slipped into darkness, shut the door, then switched on the light. As he came down the stairs leading into the room where Jacko Smith was lolling, Spike Calder came in from the other hidden entrance.

  Moe looked at Spike, his eyes alert. Spike ignored Moe and walked over to Jacko.?‘On your way,’ Spike said softly. ‘Up with the fat and dust.’

  Jacko stared at him.?‘You don’t talk that way to me, black boy.’ he said furiously. ‘When I want to go, I’ll go, but not before.’

  ‘You’ll heave the guts out right now,’ Spike said. ‘The cops have been here. They’re looking for you. I don’t cover anyone as hot as you, Jacko. On your way.’

  Moe said, ‘He stays right here.’ He had his broad bladed knife in his hand. ‘You want me to carve you a little, nigger?’

  Spike smiled.?‘You’ll have to grow a lot bigger and a lot tougher to carve me,’ he said. ‘Try it and see,’ and a long stabbing knife jumped into his hand.

  Moe snarled at him and began to move forward.?‘Stop it!’ Jacko said sharply.

  Moe slid the knife back into its sheath. He moved further away from Spike to give himself the chance to get the knife out again should Spike show signs of attacking him.

  ‘What’s biting you, Spike?’ Jacko asked with deceptive mildness. ‘What did the cops say?’ ‘Plenty,’ Spike said. ‘They are looking for you. They’re talking about a murder charge. That’s too hot for me. On your way, Jacko, and keep clear of me.’

  Jacko and Moe exchanged glances. Jacko began to sweat. There was a long pause, then Moe said, ‘Okay, Spike, we’ll go, but they’re nuts. Jacko hasn’t killed anyone.’

  Jacko heaved himself to his feet. Spike was watching Moe which was stupid as Jacko was much closer to him. With a movement, terrifyingly swift for a man of his size, Jacko grabbed the whisky bottle and slammed it across Spike’s face with bone crushing violence. Spike reeled back, dropping his knife. Moe sprang like a black cat at him as he collapsed on the floor. His black hand, holding the gleaming knife, flashed up and down twice, then he got to his feet. He bent over Spike’s lifeless body and wiped the blade of the knife dean on Spike’s shirt, then he looked at Jacko.

  ‘He was chickening out,’ he said. ‘Better this way. What do we do now?’

  Jacko lowered his great body on to the chair. He took out a carton of chocolates and began to stuff chocolates into his mouth.

  ‘We’re getting into the real crap now, boysie,’ he said, his mouth full. ‘We’d better get out… but where do we go?’

  ‘It must be Henekey,’ Moe said, sitting on the table, swinging his legs. ‘The kid must have seen us. We’ve got to fix her, baby. Without her, without Spike, we should be in the clear. I’ll go down to the motel and knock her off.’

  Jacko nodded.

  ‘But where do I go?’

  Moe frowned as he swung his legs, then he suddenly grinned.?‘Go to Hardy. He got us into this mess. Go to him, baby. He’ll have to cover you for the night. By tomorrow you’ll be in the clear. Without the kid, they haven’t a thing on us.’

  ‘Is there anyone else?’ Jacko asked. ‘Anyone who could fix us?’

  Moe thought of Toey. Toey had seen the kid finger Jacko. He hesitated. It was a pity to get rid of Toey as he was a good barber, but Moe didn’t hesitate for long.

  He told Jacko about Toey.

  Jacko looked sad. Toey also cut Jacko’s hair, but he realised that once Toey knew the cops were looking for him on a murder charge, he would turn soft.

  ‘Fix him too,’ he said and got to his feet. ‘You take me to Hardy in my car, and then fix Toey. Then you go to the motel and fix the kid.’

  ‘Yes, sweetie,’ Moe said. ‘You leave it all to me.’

  The two of them, one gross, the other hard and slim, moved silently out of the secret room and into the darkness of the night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gina Lang sat on the bed, occupied in painting her toenails while she listened to a Sinatra L.P. playing in the lounge. The time was a little after ten-thirty. Lee Hardy had said he would be back by eleven, and then they would go to the Coral Club for a drink before taking in a midnight movie. Her task completed, Gina stood up. She was wearing a bra and black lace pants. She surveyed herself in the full length mirror with shrewd, searching eyes. She was twenty-three. She had had her first affair at the age of fourteen with a man she had long forgotten. Since then, she had spent the past nine years drifting from one man’s bed to another’s. During this sexual pilgrimage she had acquired two mink coats, a diamond necklace, various other pieces of jewellery of lesser value and fifteen thousand dollars in the bank Looking at herself now in the mirror, she searched for any sign of her past life, and was pleased to see that nothing so far had left a scar on her attractiveness. Her body was firm and beautifully made. Her face amused her, and she knew fascinated men, but she wasn’t too sure about her eyes. She tried to soften their expression, but failed. Well, she thought, shrugging, at least they’ll warn Lee not to fool around with any other woman now, and he needs the warning!

  She had been living with Lee Hardy now for three months. Their meeting had been casual. When she discovered he had money, a Cadillac and a penthouse, she was happy to leave the party with him at which they had met. They went back to his luxury home.

  Then something happened that she least expected. She found he was not only an extremely accomplished lover, but his handsomeness and his gaiety turned the routine romp in bed into a fierce possessive love. This had never happened to her before, and it threw her off balance. She suggested she should move into the penthouse, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Hardy had agreed. He was getting bored with continually chasing women, breaking down their resistance, buying them presents, quarrelling with them, and finally trying to get rid of them. He found Gina intriguing, sexually exciting and a good cook. This state of affairs lasted some two months, then Hardy, from force of habit, began to look around for fresh diversions, but he quickly discovered this could be dangerous. He was shocked by Gina’s vicious temper. The row they had had when he had smiled at a girl in a nightclub was heard by everyone in the block. There was nothing he could do with her. She was like a demented wild cat. It was only when he rashly promised never to look at another woman again that she calmed down. Later, he tried to prepare himself to tell her to get out of his penthouse, but he hesitated, knowing he would never find a girl as intriguing as she was, and also the memory of her fury still scared him.

  Satisfied that she now had hooked him, Gina was considering the best way to get him to marry her. She was sick of forever hunting for a new and substantial meal ticket, and having satisfied herself that Hardy was smart enough to keep with the big money, there seemed no reason why they shouldn’t get married. So this evening, she planned to force his hand.

  For the next twenty minutes, she made herself as attractive as she could, and the result was impressive for Gina was an artist in making the best of herself. As she was struggling to pull the zipper up on the gold lamé dress that fitted her like a second skin, she heard the front door bell ring.

  She looked at the dock on her bedside table. It was nearly eleven. She thought: Lee’s forgotten his key again!

  Well, at least, for a change, he’s punctual.

  She ran to the front door and opened it. It came as a considerable shock when she saw Jacko Smith standing
in the corridor, his great fat face dripping with sweat and the smell of sweat oozing from him.

  She knew Jacko Smith was Hardy’s strong-arm man. She had seen him from time to time on the race tracks, but she had never spoken to him. She had loathed the sight of him as soon as she had seen him. The fact he was a homosexual turned her loathing into revulsion. If there was a breed of perverts Gina hated most it was the homosexual.

  ‘Where is Hardy?’ Jacko demanded, eyeing Gina with as much contempt as she was eyeing him. He regarded all women as unworthy of his consideration.

  ‘He’s out!’ Gina snapped and began to close the door. To her dismay, Jacko moved forward with the power and force of an Army tank. He rode her back into the lobby and shut the front door.

  ‘Get out of here!’ Gina cried shrilly. ‘How dare you force your way in here!’?‘Shut up!’ Jacko snarled. ‘This is business!’?‘If you think you can push your filthy way …’?‘Shut up!’ Jacko repeated. ‘Hardy is in trouble. I’m in trouble. Where is he?’

  Gina looked closely at the fat man. The restless movement of his little eyes, the sweat that soaked his shirt and the way his mouth tightened and loosened began to frighten her.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she demanded.

  He waddled past her into the lounge and seeing the cocktail cabinet, he crossed to it and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, added a little charge water and greedily gulped down the drink.

  She stood in the doorway, glaring at him.?‘What is it? The police?’?‘Yes,’ Jacko said and poured himself another drink. ‘Where is he?’ ‘He said he would be back by eleven. It’s eleven now.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  He’ll tell you if he wants you to know,’ Jacko said. ‘I’ll wait.’?‘Not here… you won’t. Get out!’

  Jacko looked at her, his little eyes gleaming viciously. ‘Screw you,’ he said. ‘You want me to push that flat nose of yours through the back of your head?’

  Gina turned abruptly and went into her bedroom, shutting and locking the door.

  Trouble! Police! She clenched her fists, her eyes glittering. What had Lee done? She sat on the bed and waited for his return.