The Secret Squad (Illustrated)

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The Secret Squad (Illustrated) Page 22

by David Goodis


  “What message? From where?”

  “From the grave,” McDermott said. “From your father.”

  Corey shivered.

  “Your father,” McDermott said. “Your father who was my closest friend. Who was a real policeman. Who was absolutely pure in his heart and considered the badge something sacred.”

  Corey shivered again and he felt a twinge very high on his thigh near his groin.

  He heard McDermott saying, “The mob that put your father in the grave was the Third Street Dragons. The leader of the Third Street Dragons was taken to the morgue tonight and that’s where he shoulda been taken long ago.”

  Then McDermott said, “That’s why I signed you in with the Squad. I was hoping you’d get the message. It couldn’t come from me. It hadda come from someone closer to you. Inside you. Deep inside.”

  Corey nodded very slowly. He gazed past the detective-sergeant. His voice quivered just a trifle as he mumbled, “Will you do me a favor? A personal favor?”

  “Depends.”

  “Lemme hold onto the badge. Lemme stay with the Squad.”

  “I’ll think about it,” the detective-sergeant said. He smiled dimly, put his hand on Corey’s shoulder and pressed down hard. Then he placed some money on the counter and they walked out of the diner. They went across the street to the city hall courtyard and got into a squad car. About ten minutes later the car came to a stop at Fourth and Addison. Corey got out. The car made a U-turn and started back toward the bridge. Corey walked down Fourth toward the rooming house where he lived.

  Approaching the rooming house, Corey saw someone sitting on the doorstep. It was Carp. His head was bent forward and he was dozing. Then he opened his eyes and saw Corey. He said solemnly, “A most welcome sight, indeed. I’m quite pleased to observe that you’re still among the living.” And then, getting up from the doorstep, Carp applied tender fingers to a slight bump on the side of his head.

  “Who gave you that?” Corey asked.

  “Nellie,” the little man said. “I knocked on her door and asked for your address. She was somewhat annoyed at being awakened so early in the morning. After considerable discussion, she replied to my query and—” he broke it off as he saw the look on Corey’s face. He murmured, “There is something you wish to tell me?”

  Corey nodded slowly. He said, “Grogan’s done. There ain’t no Grogan no more. I put a bullet in him.”

  The little man closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t say anything. Corey stood still, waiting for a comment. Finally the little man looked at him and said slowly, very distinctly and with quiet formality, “It will benefit the neighborhood. It will be of considerable benefit. As a resident of this neighborhood I wish to express my deepest gratitude.” Carp bowed ceremoniously. Then he turned and walked away.

  Corey Bradford stood there for some moments; then he headed south on Fourth, going toward Ingersoll. Specifically, he was heading toward the first-floor back of 617 Ingersoll.

  At the door of the first floor back he knocked several times, and presently the door opened.

  Lillian stood there in the doorway, wearing a tattered robe and blinking the sleep from her eyes. She muttered, “Whaddya want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “What for?”

  “Some things I gotta tell you.”

  Lillian started to close the door. Then she looked at him. It went on like that for a while. Then she opened the door wider and said, “All right, come on in.”

  THE END

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  OTHER EBOOKS YOU MIGHT ENJOY FROM DEVAULT-GRAVES DIGITAL EDITIONS

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