Blood Red Star

by Mark Walker

  It was Rocky Sengue. Riggs had no illusions about being able to take him easily, for he was a former boxer and wrestler, well over six feet tall: a solid wall of muscle who hadn’t received his nickname for naught. Earlier that night at the theatre Riggs had seen the way his evening jacket bulged.

  His objective had been to pull the front of the Zeppo lower in order to get at the door, but now his full attention was on Rocky. Sweat was shining on the man’s chocolate face, and there was a gleam of loathing in his eyes. He had both arms opened to envelope Riggs, whose one-two combination followed by a rabbit punch to the solar plexus seemed to have had little effect. But Rocky was a tad slow, and Riggs was just able to escape the giant’s hard right. He sidestepped and pivoted, delivering a huge blow to Rocky’s left kidney. This finally produced a grunt of anguish and fury that he turned back on Riggs.

  He landed three swift, solid blows that might have felled another man, but somehow Riggs rode the mighty punches as he staggered backward. It was then he saw the first man getting to his feet and, seizing the initiative, Riggs blocked Rocky’s right, then his left, grabbing the big man’s right arm and spinning him into the first man in a jiujitsu throw. Both men went sprawling across the seats at the base of the huge cocktail glass.

  Riggs turned back to the Zeppo. He could see the third line being pulled from over the edge of the big wheel, which all the while had been turning slowly. It appeared that the motion of the clockwise turn and the air currents caused by the AG Day was making the Zeppo ripple and shudder. Now, for the first time, he could see into the front cabin. The Zeppo operator was fighting the controls.

  Behind the operator, he could see Tex and Jen holding on to the safety straps for dear life, though they were belted in, as well. It was then that Tex saw him, and their eyes locked. Even as Riggs was making for the Zeppo’s door, it was opened by Tex. The curved door hissed down, becoming the cabin steps. Though the Zeppo was still five feet from the ground and slightly pitched, the step made up for it some, and Tex was on the landing as Riggs closed in on him. But not for long, for Tex lashed out a boot-clad foot, catching him in the chest and sending him sprawling. Then Tex leapt for the inspector, who rolled, causing him to miss. Riggs was up and, as Tex regained his feet, made a roundhouse to the jaw that sent Tex reeling.

  Riggs turned and half-crawled up the Zeppo’s steps. His weight pulled the sky-taxi down some more, and he instantly gained entrance into the cab. He chopped the operator with the edge of his right hand, and set about pulling Jen from the safety belt. She was not crying, but was clearly relieved. “Oh, Inspector, I knew you’d come!”

  “Come on, wee lass, we must get you out of here. Quickly, this way.” He pulled her down the steps to safety. But the goons of the Black and Blue Hand were slowly coming to their senses.

  “I’ll take care of everything here, but you must get down to the street the best way you can. Find the stairs and take them down. No, don’t use the lift. It’s too dangerous! Try not to let anyone see you on the way. Hide as best you can. Then go find help; but you must reach the street. Scotland Yard is on the way. You must be brave. Hurry now, run—run like blazes!”

  She obeyed immediately. As soon as she was gone, the three goons were upon him. Kelly Riggs was angry so he had to watch himself, but the anger counted for something, and he managed to take Tex first and knock the first man out cold. Now he had to face Rocky Sengue again and now, from behind him, the third man who had come up from the roof to help.

  As they fought Tex came to his senses and, being an actor, was more concerned with saving his face than defending his honor against Kelly Riggs. The important thing was to get the Blood Stars to Boss Stilton. He scrambled to his feet and made for the landing off the still-turning wheel. He went down the short flight of stairs to the rooftop. In a corner of the roof, a wide, winding stair led down to Boss Stilton’s penthouse, where he was quickly admitted.

  Little Jen had found another staircase, located in one of the roof’s corners, and fortunately for her, no one spotted her as she left the bizarre scene on the rooftop. She looked back one last time, a memory that would stay with her forever: the slowly rotating wheel with the giant cocktail glass and the faltering Zeppo sagging against it, and Kelly Riggs battling it out with the villains. Jen ran full-tilt down the stairs, coming to a door about three flights down. She tried the door; it was quite heavy and took all her strength to push it open. She entered into an area behind some of the gaming tables in the midst of a huge nightclub. Still, no one spotted her. Jen edged along the wall and did what children do so well—she hid. A spy would have been proud of her as she used every bit of natural cover. She slipped, sneaked, and scooted along, behind potted palms, tables, and drapes before she found a “Way Out” sign pointing to another stairwell. Jen waited till the coast was clear and, using all her might, pushed through the padded door.

  Above her, the fight on the rooftop had wound down. Despite being joined by two other thugs from below, Rocky Sengue had failed to take Kelly Riggs. Now the count was four Hand men out of commission (including the Zeppo driver), with Rocky and the fifth man covered by Riggs’s snub-nosed Colt revolver.

  Riggs had the drop on them and was herding them toward a possible exit, away from the landing pad to the stairs leading to the penthouse. But a chill went down his spine as a cold, velvety voice spoke behind him. “Drop it, Inspector.”

  It was Boss Stilton.

  Riggs turned. A tiny automatic pistol glittered in Boss Stilton’s hand. Tex was standing beside him and, Riggs noted with satisfaction, looking somewhat the worse for wear.

  “You’ve caused enough bother for one night. Take him,” said Stilton, tersely.

  His arms were roughly grasped by Rocky, and he was relieved of the pistol by the other man. Riggs smiled thinly. “Mine’s still bigger than yours,” he said. “You don’t stand a chance, Stilton. Quit while you’re ahead. You’ve played your last hand. Theft, kidnapping, murder—Scotland Yard will be here within minutes. Why don’t we go downstairs and chat while we wait for them to get here? Perhaps you could mix me one of your famous cocktails,” said Riggs, carelessly.

  Boss Bruno Stilton chuckled devilishly, the white fog lit by the pink and red lights silhouetting him. He said, “I’m not worried. But yes, let’s do go downstairs and have a chat before your friends get here, I’ll tell you all about it. Besides, it will take them at least an hour to get upstairs to the club once they get here. You’ll see. But we won’t be here then.” He gave an oily smirk. “That should give us plenty of time for that drink. I think you’ll like my swanking penthouse pad.” Still smiling chummily, he inclined his head. Riggs smiled back as he was marched roughly down the grand spiral staircase, through the steel door, and into the penthouse.

  chapter thirty-one

  Cards on the Table

  BOSS STILTON’S PENTHOUSE OCCUPIED the entire floor just below the roof, with panoramic views of the London skyline on all sides. It was huge and indeed swanking, in every way. They entered through the steel door located in the corner, onto thick carpet of the milkiest white. It was in the modern Art Deco style, with pale greys and whites mixed with areas of dark mahogany paneling and accents of blood red. The plush, comfortable looking furniture consisted of curved love seats and a sofa in shades of white, with side chairs of tube steel and tube steel tables. A Le Corbusier chrome and white leather chaise lounge faced outward by the far window. A telescope stood at its side.

  The lighting was soft to enhance the view. The ceiling was coved, with rounded corners and recessed lighting, reflecting the whole feeling of the room. Although the windows and doors formed straight lines, nothing else seemed square. The room seemed to be made entirely of soft curves.

  The length of the room to the right was slightly concave, made mostly of rich burled wood, with areas of chrome striping. Inset deep in its center was a magnificent bar, with mirrored backing behind the well-stocked shelves.

  In front of the bar sat a grand mah
ogany desk and a tall, modern, red leather chair. From the desk there would be a three-sided view of London, only the curved corners of the room obscuring it: the winding stair and roof entry in one, the lift and more shelves and paneling in the other. The windows revealed the spectacular, glittering city through wisps of fog below.

  Boss Stilton moved to the desk, turned, and smiled crookedly. Riggs was led into the center of the room. “So, what do you think of my little pad, Inspector? Not too shabby for an old lad from the East Side, eh? Heh, heh. You can let him go, lads. I trust he’ll go nowhere and do nothing rash. Please, Inspector, inspect the premises.”

  The thugs released Riggs, who stood rubbing his arms to restore the circulation. “As you said, swanking.” He looked around admiringly and strolled over for a look through the great windows. Then he turned to his host and said engagingly, “A master of all he surveys?”

  Boss Stilton’s lip curled even more. “Amusing, Inspector. I intend to be master of much more. But for now I have plenty of interests. This one is the best yet. Come see this part of my little kingdom in action, while you still can. We’ll be closing for good after tonight.”

  He led Riggs round the back of the big desk to the room divider. It was built on several planes, the outer walls containing the shelves, the next had the inset bar in the center, and behind it the third was an oval landing and spiral stair. Following Boss Stilton down the stairs, Riggs entered another oval room, set with controls and surrounded by one-way glass. There was a perfect view of every table in the club.

  The huge gambling house was another glittering jewel in Boss Stilton’s crown. The clubroom below them was fully two stories tall, decorated in the same Art Deco style and colors as the penthouse. Like the penthouse, it had floor to ceiling windows on three sides of the room. The main difference, however, was that each quadrant of the room was decorated subtly with the four card suits: hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds. The tables were crowded with men and women in all their finery, though it was only too obvious that most of them were mere poseurs. They were playing chemin de fer, roulette, baccarat, piquet, bridge, and American style poker, betting their fortunes against the house, for good or ill, whether they could afford it or not. Smartly dressed croupiers kept the action going at the tables, as hostesses in short skirts peddled drinks and chocolates, cigarettes and vaporettes.

  In the center of the observation platform on which they stood, another spiral stairway led down into the club. Riggs was carefully looking at exits and doors, and made a mental note of the stair down to the club. He noticed the bank of four lifts that were in what appeared to be the east wall, the only side of the room without windows. Boss Stilton was speaking.

  “Below all this, the floorshow, band, and dinner club are on the fifth floor. There are twenty-five gaming tables down there, Inspector, and we always have plenty of business, even in this economy. There’s always a mug out there ready to throw away his money, it’s just a matter of making the lures attractive enough to get them through the door. We even have bingo for the oldsters and the pensioners.”

  “Taking advantage of the young and the old, well, aren’t you special! Equal opportunity fleecing. If that’s the case, I’m sure there are many who can’t afford to repay their losses. What happens to them?”

  “Oh, they find a way to pay.”

  Riggs said, “And I believe the Tip Top Club is only licensed for roulette and bridge. Yet in the couple of raids that we’ve conducted, we’ve not been able to find evidence of any other games being played. And I don’t think we were aware you had bingo games going.”

  “You’re quite right, Inspector. I have many little tricks here, which I’ll explain to you shortly. For one thing, from here I can communicate with any table or change the odds on the roulette wheels, for instance. There is a built-in system of mirrors for me to watch the tables. I had planned to have televisors installed, to be able to watch them all. Oh, well. Between the nightclub and the gaming tables, after expenses, we take in about £1500 per night, £5000 on weekends. We’ll do that tonight, easy. Shame to waste it.”

  Riggs said, “If you’re doing so well, why would you need to steal something like the Blood Star. And yet I saw two Blood Stars earlier at the theatre, the ones stolen from Miss Vitis. The ones Tex brought you tonight.”

  Boss Stilton gave him a narrow look and answered, “We’ll talk about that in a bit. Let’s go back upstairs. I have a little surprise for you.”

  When they gained the penthouse again, Riggs was surprised to find Toby Knockknees sitting in one of the tubular chairs, his hands tied behind him and Tex at his side. “Toby!” exclaimed Riggs, starting forward, but Rocky Sengue laid a ham-sized paw on his shoulder, holding him back. “Toby, thank god you’re all right.”

  “Sorry, Inspector,” said Toby. “I tried to warn you, but I guess I wasn’t careful enough and they got on to me.”

  Boss Stilton spoke. “Yes, Inspector, the Hand has eyes everywhere, even backstage at the theatre. Of course it helps to have a friend like Miss Vitis putting money—some of it mine, mind you—into that theatre show. It’s worked out well. Tex, for example. Amazing actor. He can pull off almost any disguise. Makes a perfect widow. Heh-heh.” Tex showed no reaction. “But we’ll get to that later. It was his mistake to take the little girl, but I understand she got away. So be it. I have no use for her, because now I have two guests. Right now, I need to take care of some business, so you two bloodhounds will get a chance to catch up. Now, I know you don’t mind having a seat for a while.”

  He motioned to his henchmen, who quickly had Riggs seated and were tying his hands behind him like Toby’s. “Sit tight, Inspector. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and we’ll have that drink and lovely chat.” He left with Tex and Rocky Sengue, via the central stair down to the control room.

  Riggs looked at Toby. “Right, Toby, we haven’t much time. Try to turn a little, and let’s see if we can’t work our chairs closer together, back to back. I’ll see if I can’t get your ties undone. While I’m at it, tell me everything that’s happened.” Toby gave him a sketch of what had occurred earlier that night, when he had overheard Tex speaking to someone. Apparently, someone had seen him, and they were ready when he’d gone to phone Riggs. They had roughed him up but hadn’t hurt him, and he had been taken up here and held ever since.

  Riggs was making progress with the ties, and spoke quickly, “Now listen: when I get you untied, there’s a self-service lift over in the far corner. Take it down and try to get to the street if you can. Little Jenny may be in the building as well, so keep a lookout for her. Find the police and tell them where I am. They should already be in the building, but getting up here may be a problem. Don’t worry about me. The main thing is to get you out safely. There! Now go!” Toby hesitated but a second then turned, and ran for the lift.

  The Dasher had pulled up just across from the Tip Top Club, and even as Riggs had been involved in the rooftop fight, Bellows had summoned the other squads over the radio, who were zeroing in on their location.

  Brendalynn jumped out of the door and stood on the running board of the Dasher. She said impulsively, “I’m going in to find them! I do hope your men come quickly! Children, you stay here with Sergeant Bellows.” She winked at him and was off. The startled Sergeant could only sputter, “But Miss…”

  By the time the sergeant and the children had managed to scramble out of the car, Brendalynn Welles had been greeted by solemn but courteous doormen, superbly attired in blood red livery. With her elegance and beauty, she had easily gained entrance to the special lift up to the club.

  “Club closes in an hour, Miss, at two a.m.,” the lift operator said. She was whisked up, and the lift doors opened onto the same electric scene Riggs had looked down upon moments before. She raised her chin, threw back her shoulders, and bravely entered.

  chapter thirty-two

  Another Cosmo, Another Problem

  FLANKED BY TEX AND ROCKY SENGUE, Boss Stilton loomed over K
elly Riggs. The boss stood with legs slightly spread and slapped Riggs hard across the face. His cheesy breath came Riggs’s way. “Inspector, aren’t you a caution. I am disappointed in you. Already up to monkey tricks and our other guest gone. I wish I could untie you completely, but under the circumstances it would be a bit foolish. I think perhaps some cuffs are in order. Rocky?”

  Rocky Sengue produced a pair, and Boss Stilton personally untied Riggs’s hands and quickly and expertly cuffed him. “Sorry about popping off like that, but you made me a little mad, Inspector. We’ll wait till we have our drink to let you loose again. Rocky! Go tend to the lad.” Rocky Sengue was off to the lift in the corner. “He can’t have gone far.” He turned back to Riggs. “The lift only lets off at the club, which needs my private key, and then down to the kitchen which lets out into a closet.

  “Yes, Inspector, this whole building is a rabbit warren of cutouts and cul-de-sacs. Lifts that go only a few floors, and stairways to nowhere. Even the fire escapes don’t allow one to traverse the entire height of the building. We are quite snug and impregnable up here, at least for a while.”

  He turned to Tex. “Start the lockdown sequence now, then when the club abruptly closes in…“ he consulted his watch, “…forty minutes, flush everyone—staff and all—out through the lifts and the front stairwells. That should make for some pretty confusion just as the police get to the club! Heh, heh!

  “And in the meantime, go on down to the tele-chamber and gin up the televisors. Takes them forever to warm up. We’re conducting a little auction tonight, Inspector. The famous Blood Stars to the highest bidder. And only for seriously interested parties, and of course not for the police.”