Lady—Here's Your Wreath Page 9
Was I pleased! I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. I told myself I had to go on in there and chance getting into trouble.
Just as I was getting set, I heard the sound of a bell ringing somewhere in the house. That stopped me. I beat it down the passage quick to the room where I had left Gus. He was still lying on his back, dreaming sweet dreams.
The bell rang again impatiently. This was serious. If more of the boys were arriving, it looked like I was in for a siege. I stood by the door, listening. The fat guy finally made up his mind to make the trip. I heard him open his door and step into the passage. I could see the flicker of a torch coming slowly along.
Would he look in and see if all was well here? If he did, I should have to start something. If he didn’t and went downstairs, it might give me enough time to get in that front room and see what was going on in there.
While I was thinking this out, he decided things for me. I saw the handle of the door suddenly move, and I knew he was going to have a look. I had no time to clear Gus out of the way. He lay in full view in the light of the candle. I stepped hastily behind the door and waited. The door opened softly and the fat guy put his head round. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been in such a jam. He just stuck his head round the door and his eyes lighted on Gus.
I didn’t give him a chance to get set. I flung my weight on the panel of the door, crushing his head. He looked like a side-show. His eyes popped and they rolled round until they lit on me.
“Relax, brother,” I said, and hit him on his chin with a nice roundhouse swing that had everything I’d got packed into it.
The punch connected on his button with a crisp click. The jar of the blow ran right up my arm and I lost most of the skin off my knuckles. His eyes went blank and I slackened my weight on the door; down he went like a stricken elephant.
I jerked the door open and stepped over him. The bell rang again furiously, and someone began to drum on the door. I ran my hands over him and found his gun. It was a .45 Smith & Wesson. A nice argument in any rough-house.
Boy! Did that gun feel good in my hand!
The hammering and ringing off stage packed up suddenly. That meant they were nervous of waking up the neighbourhood and were going to get in through a window. I didn’t kid myself that they would go home.
I dived out into the passage and burst into the other room. Now I was expecting to find Mardi there. I already had visions of being quite the hero in her eyes. I went so far as to imagine that she would sink into my arms, so it set me back a long way when I saw Blondie sitting there.
Blondie? Can you tie that? There she was, tied hand and foot to a chair. Her eyes were brooding sudden death and her general expression like a tigress about to start something.
I stopped in my tracks. “Well, for the love of Mike!” I said.
She was as startled as I was. “Get me out of here,” she said hoarsely.
It was when she spoke that I saw she had been having a bad time. Some guy with more imagination than the milk of human kindness had been giving her the works. I could see the bruises on her face, and a Short length of rubber hose lying at her feet told me things, too.
I went behind her and sawed through the twine with my knife. “This gets me,” I told her as I worked. “I’ve been knocking guys all over the house an’ riskin’ my skin because I thought I was helping a girl friend of mine… now I find it’s you.”
She didn’t say anything, but the way her breath whistled through her nose told me she was plenty mad.
I had to move quickly. I just didn’t know how long those guys downstairs would be before they walked in on us. As soon as I had got rid of the twine, I jumped to the door.
“Get a little life into your limbs,” I said to her as I went. “We gotta get out of here quick.”
I gumshoed to the head of the stairs and looked over. There were two guys coming up. They must have heard me, because they snapped out their light quickly. I swung the .45 and fired one shot, making sure that I didn’t hit them.
The way those two fell downstairs to get out of the way made me laugh. I shouted down to them, “Don’t come up. I want to be alone.”
Then I beetled back to Blondie very quietly. She was standing up rubbing her wrists. Her mouth was set in a thin line. That dame didn’t look scared, she was just mad..
“Next floor,” I said briefly. “As quiet as you like.”
She took a few hobbling steps forward and then she stopped. She began to curse. I hastily grabbed her arm. “Pipe down,” I said. “What’s up? Are you hurt’?”
She tried to move forward again, but stopped once more. Her big white teeth chewed her lip. “I can’t make it,” she said jerkily.
I didn’t bother to argue, time was pressing. I gave her the fireman’s hoist and started up the other flight of stairs. Carrying a dame of Blondie’s build up thirty stairs is hard labour. Along with the feeling that some guy is going to open up with a popgun and perforate your pants it’s plain hell. By the time I got on to the next landing, I was sweating hard.
Once I got up there, I used my lamp. The landing was similar to the downstairs one. The same number of doors. I entered the back room and dumped Blondie down on the floor. “Try an’ snap out of it,” I said. “We ain’t home yet.”
I went out on to the landing again, leaving her the lamp. Then I leant over the rail and fired a shot down into the darkness. I thought maybe those guys down there wanted a little scare. I got one myself. A gun exploded out of the darkness and I felt the wind of the bullet close to my face. I jerked back, then shifting my position I fired once more, this time straight down the stairs.
Two guns replied, and if I hadn’t been lying flat on my face I should have stopped something. These guys knew too much about shooting to please me. I crawled into the room and shut the door softly.
Maybe they wouldn’t try to rush the place for a little while. I wasn’t sure how many slugs I’d got left, and I thought I’d better save what I’d got.
Picking up the torch, I examined the room. The first thing the spot-light fell on was a heavy cupboard. I went across and pulled it from the wall.
Blondie climbed to her feet and moved over to me. Although her face was twisted, I’ll say she was game.
“Take it easy,” I said to her. “I can manage this… you nurse yourself.”
Her reply was unprintable. That’s the advantage of meeting up with a dame like Blondie. You don’t have to worry about your manners. She and I got the cupboard across the room and against the door. It would hold it for a little while.
I went to the window and looked out. Below was the black river. I could just make out the oily reflection from the overcast moon. It looked a hell of a way down.
I turned back. “Can you swim, sister?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, “but I ain’t swimming in these clothes.”
That’s a woman!
I lit a cigarette. “Unless the cops move in… it looks like you’ll have to,” I said. “These guys outside mean business.”
She came over to the window and, brushing past me, she looked out. I could smell her scent. She turned round and looked at me. “It’s a long way down,” she said. There was just a faint quaver in her voice.
I told myself that whatever else she was, she’d got plenty of guts. “Don’t you worry about that,” I said. “You just push yourself off… it ain’t anythin’. I’ll be right behind you. I guess you don’t want to face up to the slugs instead, do you?”
She pulled a zip on her dress and stepped out of it. Then she kicked off her shoes. Blondie was the sort of dame that always wears black undies. I could just make out the faint white of her shoulders and that was all.
Three violent reports sounded outside the door and I heard the bullets smack against the wall opposite. Then someone began to heave against the panels. It was time we got going.
“Come on, baby, it’s cooler outside,” I said. “Sit on the sill and hang your legs outside.”
I shoved her off the sill and leant out to watch her go. Down she went into the darkness and I heard a loud splash. Then I vaulted after her.
Was that water cold? I seemed to go down for hours. Then just when I thought maybe I’d go on for ever, my head broke the surface. I shook the water out of my eyes and looked around for Blondie. I couldn’t see her for several seconds, but then at last I made out a bobbing head several yards to my right.
I turned on my side and swam over to her fast.
“H’yah, baby,” I said. “You all right?”
“Some guy’s goin’ to pay for this,” she said furiously, “you see if he don’t.”
I had a little grin to myself in the darkness. This dame’s temper couldn’t be put out even with water.
“Suppose we go home?” I said, swimming along at her side. “I guess we’ve done enough for one night.”
Together we swam quietly to the lights on the waterfront.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS TRICKY work smuggling Blondie into my apartment. If she didn’t mind getting herself talked about, I did.
We certainly had all the luck. After swimming around for a little while, we made the waterfront. A docker nearly had a fit when we climbed up the side of the wharf right at his feet. Once he’d got over the shock of seeing Blondie in her wet undies, he extended a helping hand. He took us along to his place and fitted us out with a couple of worn-out suits. We both looked tramps, but we didn’t give a damn.
The docker seemed quite content to accept a phoney story I’d made up for his consumption, and when I promised him twenty dollars if he got us a taxi, he couldn’t do enough for us. That was how we got home.
Right now, Blondie was lying in the bath soaking her bruises, and I Was crouched over the fire with a glass of Scotch in my hand.
I wasn’t too keen having Blondie here. She just wouldn’t go back to her apartment. There was nothing else to do but to bring her here. I wanted to get her story, and although she didn’t say more than three or four words in the taxi… and they were bad ones, I had hopes of getting something out of her.
“When you’ve finished,” I bawled out to her, “you might remember I’m waiting.”
“All right,” she called back. “Come and give me a towel and I’ll come out.”
I said, “You can get it yourself. Remember I’m modest, if you ain’t.”
She didn’t say anything to that, but I heard her climb out of the bath, and after some time she came out wrapped in my woollen dressing-gown. Her eyes were still stormy and her mouth was set in a sullen line. She jerked her head towards the bathroom, and poured herself out three fingers of Scotch.
I went into the bathroom and had a quick one. The hot water did a lot to restore me, and when I came out again I was feeling fine.
Blondie was crouched over the fire. A cigarette dangled from her lips and the Scotch was way down in the bottle.
I sat down close to her and lit a cigarette. We remained like that for several moments. Then I said, “Maybe you’d like to tell me what happened.”
She twisted round so that she faced me. This dame was tough all right. I guess the street knocks hell out of these women. They’ve learnt to have no feelings, and to be on the look-out for a double-cross at every step. It is the one weapon they have to protect themselves.
Looking down at her hard face, I could see no redeeming expression.. She was a swell looker, but that didn’t get a dame far. If you’d got eyes like granite and a mouth like a trap, I guess the rest of your looks can’t even that lot up.
“Listen,” she said evenly. “You pulled me out of a jam, but you did it because of someone else and not because of me. You an’ me have had a little trouble before. I guess we don’t mean anythin’ to each other. Well, if you’re extending sympathy, you can stick it on the wall. I can manage okay without you handing out any grease; get all that?”
Talking with a dame like her was like playing ‘handles’ with a rattlesnake. There was only one way to talk to a dame who gets like that, so I handed out some of her own stuff.
“I’m not handing you any grease, sister,” I said, “I haven’t any grease to pass on to your type. I save it for those who can appreciate it. I want to know your story. I’ve got myself mixed up in this business, and I guess, as I pulled you out of a jam, I’m entitled to know something about it. So come off your high horse, cut out the dramatics, and shoot.”
She turned back to the fire. “I ain’t talkin’,” she said.
I got up.
“Okay,” I said. “Beat it… go on… get the hell out of here… blow!”
She stood up. Her face startled and her eyes wide.
“If you ain’t outside quick, I’ll call the cops an’ hand you over. You can guess what the charge’ll be… an’ I’ll make it stick.”
She saw she hadn’t a leg to stand on. Her sullen face cleared and she laughed. She could look mighty nice when she laughed. “Okay, darlin’,” she said, “I’ll be good.”
“You see how it is,” I said, moving back to the fire, “I’ve got you where it’s crisp.”
She poured herself out another Scotch. This dame certainly liked her liquor. “Yes, darlin’,” she said, all honey. “You’re the boss.”
“While we’re on the subject,” I went on, “I reckon I’ve told you before. That ‘darlin’’ of yours gives me a pain. You ain’t on business now.”
She came over and put her arms round my neck. “I could be,” she said, digging down into her box of tricks and putting on a swell act-
It only made me nervous. I got rid of her arms none too gently and pushed her into the chair. “Relax,” I said. “I wantta catch up some sleep some time. It’s gettin’ late.”
For a moment she looked as if she was goin’ to get mad again, then she thought better of it.
“Now what’s the story behind all this?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I guess Earl’s a little tired of having me around. This is the sort of hint that guy hands out when he wants you to take a powder.”
Not quite right. One of those difficult answers, half-truth and half-lie. If I was going to get anywhere with this dame, I’d got to lead her along carefully.
“Those three thugs work for Katz?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“What did they want to know?”
She glanced at me quickly. Once again her lips smiled, but her eyes were suspicious. “They didn’t want to know anythin’, darlin,” she said.
“Yeah? Then why did they beat you up?”
The memory of that made her face darken. “I’ve told you… that’s the way he gives out he’s tired of you.”
I shrugged. I certainly wasn’t getting anywhere on these lines. “What do you know about Spencer?”
She looked blank. “Never heard of him.”
If she and Ananias got swopping stories, I’d know who I’d have my money on.
“Ever heard of a girl called Mardi Jackson?”
Again she shook her head. I gave up. She was too tough to get wild with. She would only laugh at me.
“Okay, sister,” I said, getting to my feet. “I can see you an’ I ain’t goin’ places. Maybe one day you’ll think better of it an’ give it me straight. I’m hoping it won’t be too late for you. Suppose you tell me your plans. I can’t keep you here, you know.”
She said, “I’m leaving this town to-morrow. I want you to go along to my apartment, put some things together for me, and bring them back here. Then I’m off.”
For nerve, this dame was the tops. I was too tired to argue.
“Anythin’ you say,” I grunted. “You’ll be comfortable either in here on the couch or in my bed…. I don’t c
are which you have, just make up your mind. I’ll take the other.”
The following morning was dull and overcast. I got up around eight. It didn’t take me long to get to her apartment. A spare key was under the mat. I’d taken the fat guy’s .45 along with me. It didn’t seem to have suffered from the water, and I had taken care to have cleaned it well. I wasn’t going to be surprised by Katz, and I don’t mind telling you that I was a bit nervous going into the place.
She had given me a list Of the things she wanted. It was not a long list and I was soon through. I then went carefully through the apartment and searched it pretty thoroughly, but I didn’t find anything.
After all the excitement, I was no further to finding Mardi. That was getting me steamed up. I had one taste of the type of thug that Spencer employed, and if they were capable of getting tough with Blondie the same methods could be handed out to Mardi.”
I was certain that Blondie knew something and they were trying to find out what it was. The fact that she had made up her mind to leave town showed that she was scared. To leave a nice little apartment like this in a hurry, as well as to lose her connections, pointed that she knew that she was on the spot.
I’d never get anything out of her unless she wanted to tell me. She was far too shrewd to be jumped. Now that Mardi was missing, I had to bust this thing open. There was no other way round it.
When I got back to my apartment I found Ackie there. He was sitting on the foot of my bed, talking to Blondie.
I stood in the doorway and glared at him. He looked over his shoulder. “H’yah, pal,” he said. “I’m mighty glad I looked in.”
I dumped the suit-case down and glanced over at Blondie. She seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Well, for God’s sake,” I said, “can’t you keep out of my place when I’m busy?”
Ackie shook his head. “You may have to thank me,” he said. “Don’t bother to introduce us, we’ve already done that.”