by Hank Janson
I took his shoulder, swung him back to face me. ‘Right now,’ I said gently, ‘there’s a guy in gaol waiting to take the last walk. He never could have killed the guy they say he did. It was circumstantial evidence. The jury found him guilty!’ I paused, and then added slowly: ‘That man is gonna die for a crime he never committed. Do you wanna die that way, too, Carter?’
He licked his lips nervously. ‘What shall I–?’
‘We mustn’t let Sharp get to him,’ said the Chief. ‘We’ve gotta get him hid out somewhere. We’ve gotta keep him out of sight until we’ve cleaned up this mess.’
Carter said faintly: ‘I’m willing to do what you two gentlemen say. I’m sure you know best, and –’
‘It ain’t gonna be so easy,’ I said. ‘Sharp’s looking for him. His face is plastered all over the news-sheets by now. Even the people in this office are liable to recognise him.’
‘We can’t keep him here,’ said the Chief.
‘How the hell are we gonna get him out?’
The Chief scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘If we could get him to my cabin out on South Bend, he’d be safe enough there for a time. He could lie low, not see anybody. If you could get him there, Hank, you could take him food from time to time. He’d be safe enough there.’
Carter said faintly: ‘I don’t want to go too far …’
‘Shuddup, will you?’ growled the Chief. ‘Can’t you see we’re thinking?’
Carter lapsed into silence. He looked from one to the other of us anxiously.
‘If we were to get him a scarf and an overcoat,’ I suggested, ‘I could get him down to my car and run him out.’
‘And run the risk of being seen with him? Don’t you realise how serious this is, Hank? Having this guy here is bad enough. Hiding him out is worse. Being found hiding him out will ruin us.’
‘We’ve gotta do it, Chief,’ I said. ‘We’ve gotta keep him out of the way until I get something on Dane. We just gotta figure out a way to get him to your cabin.’
The Chief scratched his chin, got up and paced the room, His blue eyes switched to the wardrobe, rested on it, and then began to shine. ‘We’re getting somewhere, Hank,’ he said. ‘Genius,’ he muttered. ‘That’s what it is. Genius. I just can’t help it. I get these ideas.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
He pointed at the wardrobe. ‘I don’t like that around my office,’ he said. ‘I want it taken away.’
‘For god’s sake, Chief,’ I said. ‘This is no time for furniture shifting!’
‘That wardrobe is going out to South Bend. It’s gonna look a whole lot better in my cabin there, than here.’
‘Chief,’ I said excitedly, ‘you’ve hit it!’
Carter was much slower off the mark than either of us. He looked from me to the Chief and then back to me. His eyes were wondering.
‘Carter,’ I said sweetly, ‘you’re gonna take a little ride.’
‘I don’t wanna go too far …’
I edged him gently towards the wardrobe. ‘It won’t take too long. All you’ve gotta do is be quiet and patient. We’ll have you there in no time.’
He was still protesting weakly when I bundled him into the wardrobe, closed the door on him and locked it.
‘You’d better follow out there, Hank,’ he said. ‘See Carter’s settled down, and then go after Dane. Whatever happens, you’ve gotta get Dane before Sharp gets him.’
‘I’m keeping my fingers crossed,’ I said anxiously.
The Chief thumbed buttons on his desk. He ordered one of the newspaper vans around to the front of the office and three porters grunted beneath the weight of the wardrobe, got it down in the elevator and into the van.
It was maybe 20 miles to the Chief’s cabin out on South Bend. It was a quiet little place, well off the beaten track, small, compact, but with all modern conveniences. I supervised the unloading of the wardrobe, tipped the helpers and sent them back to the office.
Then I unlocked the wardrobe, let out Carter, and helped myself to a drink.
‘You sure everything’s gonna be all right?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘All you’ve gotta do is sit tight. Don’t look out of the windows and don’t answer the door. Don’t go out under any circumstances. There’s everything you need here, including food.’ I showed him the basket of provisions I’d brought along.
‘I thought maybe I should go to the police …’ he said.
‘Carter,’ I said, breathing heavily, ‘don’t you see we’re doing all we can for you? Do you wanna fry?’
‘Nobody does,’ he said. ‘But –’
‘Then just do what I say,’ I said firmly. ‘Just stay put. Don’t move. Understand?’
He nodded dumbly.
‘I’ll ring you later,’ I said. ‘Just to see how things are going.’
I went back to my car and drove down to Chicago. On the way, I was going through in my mind all the places that Dane might be. I guessed Sharp would be doing the same thing. It was a race now. I had to get to Dane before Sharp did – or else.
10
I spent three hours looking for Dane, telephoning and calling in at places where he was likely to be, and even checking the airport reservations. I didn’t get a lead anywhere.
I shoved nickels into a drugstore telephone and dialled the cabin out on South Bend.
I got the engaged signal. That surprised me. Carter shouldn’t be telephoning anybody.
I dialled again. I still got the engaged signal. I frowned, kept on dialling, and finally got through to him.
‘Who you been phoning?’ I demanded.
‘Who is that?’ His voice was anxious, eager.
‘Janson,’ I said. ‘Hank Janson.’
‘I’m doing fine,’ he said. ‘Nice grub.’
‘Who were you speaking to on the telephone?’ I demanded.
‘Telephone?’ His voice was surprised.
‘Your line was engaged,’ I explained.
‘There must be a mistake, Mr Janson,’ he said. ‘The telephone hasn’t rung all the time. I haven’t been speaking.’
‘Okay,’ I grumbled. ‘But do what I say. Just stay put. Don’t communicate with anybody. Understand?’
‘I won’t, Mr Janson,’ he promised. ‘You can rely on me.’
I contacted Stella. She was at home trying to sleep off the worries of the night before. She hadn’t seen Dane. Hadn’t heard from him.
I tried lots of other places. Finally I got good and fed up at not getting a lead. I turned off the main drag into a little tavern frequented by newspapermen.
It’s the kinda thing that can happen. Search a whole city without a hope, and then drop in somewhere casually and you find what you want. Dane was there, sitting at the counter, staring moodily into a half-empty whisky glass.
‘Hiya, Dane!’ I said. I eased myself onto the stool beside him, rested my elbows on the counter and said quietly: ‘Anything you wanna tell me, Dane?’
He looked at me from the corner of his eye. His face was flushed, his hand was trembling, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was a long way from being drunk, though. ‘What are you getting at, Hank?’
‘What say you and me go somewhere quiet? Have a little chat, huh?’
‘We can talk here,’ he growled.
‘Okay, fella,’ I said. I called for a drink, and when it was set down in front of me I said softly: ‘A friend’s got to help a guy out of trouble. Are you my friend?’
‘What kinda trouble you in?’
‘Not my trouble,’ I said pointedly. ‘Your trouble.’
He looked at me steadily, and his eyes were unfathomable. ‘Why don’t you speak out loud?’
‘Where were you at seven o’clock this morning?’ I asked.
He looked at me long and steadily, then he turned away and took a sip from his glass. ‘You really wanna know?’
‘I think I ought to,’ I
said quietly.
‘Hugh Burden’s house,’ he said, and kept on looking at me steadily.
After a few moments I asked: ‘That all you wanna say?’
He nodded. ‘What d’ya want me to do? Sign a confession? Do you want I should oil the machinery so I take a one-way ride to the chair and save everyone a lot of trouble?’
‘The guy who killed Burden hasn’t a lot to worry about,’ I said. ‘Burden got what he asked for. There’s good grounds for defence for incitement.’
‘What’s the odds on Skinner now?’
‘He couldn’t have done it,’ I said. ‘Some new evidence just turned up.’
‘I kinda figured that,’ he said.
‘You held out on us, Dane,’ I told him. ‘You knew the kinda trouble we were running ourselves into. You just let us go ahead and do it.’
‘A fella’s gotta think of all kinds of things,’ he said.
‘You gotta play it differently now, Dane,’ I said. ‘Your best chance is to come to the office with me. You’ve gotta lay it on the line. Give the Chronicle the first stab at it. We can write it up so it makes it good for you. Give the Chronicle the first stab at it. Then we can go down town and see Sharp.’
‘Are you crazy?’ he asked. He looked at me steadily. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘You’ve had a lotta strain,’ I said. ‘You’ve got a problem on your mind and it’s too much for one guy to carry around. The Chief’s a good guy. I’ll string along, too. Together we’ll get some place.’
He said slowly and softly: ‘If you mean what I think you mean …’ His voice broke off. There were a coupla guys standing behind us. They’d appeared there suddenly. One of them said in a harsh voice:
‘You’re Dane Morris, aren’t you?’
I turned around quickly. They were plainclothes men. Tall, eagle-eyed and ready for action.
‘What if I am?’ said Dane.
‘You’re wanted down at Headquarters.’
Dane looked at me. ‘You know anything about this?’
‘Yeah,’ I said bitterly. ‘Sharp came around the office some hours ago. He wanted you then.’
‘Suppose I don’t wanna come?’ said Dane.
‘We can take care of that,’ said the dick. ‘We’ve got an open warrant. Do you want we should take you officially, handcuffs and all? Or would you like to be good – come quietly?’
Dane flushed furiously. ‘Don’t you guys try to get tough with me,’ he said ominously. ‘I’m not going to be pushed around by any –’
‘You can have it which way you like,’ said one dick softly. ‘Handcuffs or without.’
I was all slumped inside. This was it. Sharp had won. He’d got to Dane first. That kinda clinched things.
Dane said: ‘You’d better come along, Hank. You know how these fellas are. I’d like to have someone around.’
‘Okay,’ I said wearily. ‘I’ll string along. Might as well see it through.’
We got a taxi outside. Went down to Headquarters. Neither of the dicks said anything on the way and Dane wasn’t inclined to be talkative, either.
We checked with the desk sergeant at Headquarters and then we were steered through a maze of corridors to the Homicide Department and into Sharp’s office.
I gave a little start of surprise when I saw Leslie Fuller, the playboy, waiting there together with Pearl Gibbons.
I heard Dane’s gasp of surprise when he saw Pearl. She looked up at him with soft eyes and smiled bravely. Sharp glared at me and rasped: ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘I just came along for the ride.’
‘Get out!’ he said.
‘You wanna see me?’ said Dane levelly.
‘What the hell do you think I’ve had you brought in for?’
‘If you want me to talk, he stops,’ he said. ‘Otherwise I say nothing.’
Sharp looked savage. He showed his teeth, and red spots burned high up on his cheeks. He said nastily, ‘If you must have your wet nurse, I suppose he can stop. Siddown, both of you!’
Leslie Fuller had been looking at me with his eyes puckered up, trying to remember. Finally he said: ‘I remember now. You’re that man that invented the cocktail. Jolly fine cocktail, too. You invented a cocktail and invented an awfully good name for it, too.’
‘That’s right,’ I grinned. ‘World’s End. It follows the Atomic Bomb.’
‘I wish I could do that,’ he said, regretfully. ‘I’ve never done anything useful.’ He looked at Pearl and there was softness in his eyes. ‘Pearl’s trying to take me in hand, you know. We’re going to get married and –’
Sharp smashed his fist on the desk. ‘For Christ’s sake cut it out!’ he yelled. ‘You’ve said that every five minutes since you’ve been here. Don’t you know any other words?’
Leslie Fuller looked at him indignantly. ‘It’s entirely unnecessary to adopt that attitude,’ he said frigidly.
Sharp raised his eyes to the heavens, sighed deeply.
‘Just why you got me down here?’ asked Dane.
‘Yeah,’ said Sharp, and leaned forward across the desk. His eyes bored into Dane. ‘Just what were you doing last night, fella?’ he asked grimly.
Just momentarily Dane’s eyes flicked towards Pearl. But his eyes were steady when he said: ‘I’m just not telling anyone that, Sharp.’
Pearl was about to say something. Sharp stabbed his finger at her. ‘Shuddup!’ he roared.
Pearl bit her lip. She looked down at her lap.
Leslie Fuller said: ‘I think I ought to be told something about this. Why is Pearl here?’
Sharp breathed hard. He said through his teeth: ‘Mr Fuller, do you realise why you are here?’
‘I’d like to know,’ said Fuller. ‘I’d like to know why Pearl’s here, too.’
Sharp’s voice was almost a hiss. ‘You’re here to answer questions, Fuller.’ Then he suddenly roared: ‘You don’t ask me questions! I ask you!’
Dane asked: ‘All right if I go now?’
‘All right if you go!’ sneered Sharp. ‘What were you doing last night?’
Dane was quite cool now. He said levelly, ‘That’s one question I’m not answering, Sharp. As far as I am concerned, last night’s a complete blank.’
The answer seemed to please Sharp. ‘That suits me,’ he said. ‘I’ll just give you a few facts. Then I’ll give you one more chance. Maybe you’ll alter your mind.’
Fuller said: ‘Yes, give us some facts. Let us know something.’
Pearl had her hands in her lap. She was looking down at them and her cheeks were flushed. She was wearing a short, pleated, white linen frock and she was far and away the prettiest piece of furniture in that room.
Sharp said slowly and deliberately, his words distinct so they seemed to fall on the table in front of him with a loud noise: ‘Hugh Burden was killed last night. A knife was thrust in his ribs. There were fingerprints on that knife. Badly smudged but sufficiently clear to match.’ He looked at Pearl and I saw she was biting her lips. He said, almost savagely: ‘The fingerprints on that knife were those of Miss Gibbons.’
It was like a blow between the eyes for me. It kinda rocked me on my heels. And the awful splitting headache started all over. Leslie Fuller half jumped to his feet.
‘That’s nonsense!’ he said. ‘Why, Pearl wouldn’t –’
‘Shuddup!’ roared Sharp, and banged his fist on the desk so hard it almost split.
Fuller sat back in his chair. Sharp resumed in a quieter voice: ‘Miss Gibbons admits using that knife. She admits that her fingerprints could easily be on that knife. But she claims she used the knife earlier that evening.’
‘Of course,’ said Fuller. ‘Pearl probably had to open a letter.’
‘Had to open a letter!’ sneered Sharp. He pushed his face across the desk towards Fuller. ‘I’ll tell you what she did with it. She’ll tell you, too. She stuck it in Burden!’
> Fuller got up, and this time his face was white and set. He looked like he was gonna take a swing at Sharp. But Pearl reached out, touched his arm, and it had a magical effect upon him. He yielded to her gentle touch like a five-engined bomber answers to the gentle pressure on the joy-stick.
‘It’s true, Leslie,’ she said. ‘I did stick a knife in Burden. But not that way. It was during the party. I’d been dancing a lot. I was hot. I went into the library for a breath of air. Burden came in and – well, you know the game we were playing!’
‘Striptease!’ sneered Sharp. ‘A lotta cheap pick-ups and pimps!’
She ignored him. ‘I guess Burden got excited. He tried to make love to me and I wouldn’t let him. Then he became persistent. So persistent I was fighting with him. I don’t know quite how it happened but he forced me back across the table. There was a paper-knife there. I got hold of it. I had to keep him away somehow. I jabbed him.’
Leslie said, appalled: ‘You didn’t, Pearl! You couldn’t have killed him.’
‘I didn’t kill him,’ she said quietly. ‘I just hurt him a little, I guess. Just enough to make him ease up. He left me alone after that.’
‘What she says checks,’ put in Sharp. ‘The doctor reports a knife wound in Burden’s thigh. Not deep, not serious, but painful. When Miss Gibbons told us this, we already had the doctor’s report in our possession.’
Leslie was visibly relieved. ‘For one moment, Pearl,’ he said, ‘I thought –’ Then his face clouded. ‘This fella Burden,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about him? I wouldn’t allow him to try that kinda thing with you. Why didn’t you tell me?’
She smiled at him sweetly. ‘You were just a little under the weather, darling,’ she pointed out
He’d been under the counter, too! Flat out!
Sharp suddenly shot at Dane: ‘Did you spend last night with Miss Gibbons?’
Dane looked startled. Then he said: ‘What a helluva question! You want I should kick your teeth down your throat?’
‘You want I should?’ asked Leslie Fuller. He was quivering with rage now. ‘How dare you make such a suggestion! Miss Gibbons is engaged to marry me.’
