The Deadly Game

by Norman Daniels

  I carved a neat gouge on the top of his head. It must have felt like an earthquake to him. He yelled and clapped both hands to his head and swore he didn't know. I half believed him.

  "But somebody did," I insisted. "She's a newcomer to town, isn't she?"

  He got some of his old zing back. I watched him lick his lips. "You see this tomato once, and you don't ever forget her. She's built, this broad."

  "And you don't know who suggested you to her?"

  "That's the truth, Mr. Sloan. She just called me up and her voice is like honey. I figured it was some kind of a date she wanted, and when I saw her, boy, I started heating up, but she soon cooled me down. That's when I got orders to watch that estate, and when you came out to grab you and get them pearls."

  I said, "Let me describe this dream dish, Stoker. She's about five feet ten, with jet black hair and eyes. She's got olive skin, a build like a dream. You're correct about that . . ."

  He shook his head and winced. After what I'd handed him, the slightest movement must have hurt—I hoped.

  "You got it all wrong, Mr. Sloan. She's a blonde. Her hair is so damn blonde it don't look real and she's got blue eyes. Kind of a baby face, but she's tough too. If she'd have told me to jump off the Empire State and land on my head, I'd have done it if I thought maybe I'd get a crack at her first."

  I didn't show it, but I was stumped. Stoker wouldn't be lying—not now. And no beauty parlor could have changed Mona over into a blue-eyed blonde. This had to be someone else, and the set-up didn't ring true.

  "When are you supposed to see her again, Stoker?” I asked.

  "She said she'd contact me. Hell, I don't even know her name."

  "Was anybody with her?"

  "She was all alone."

  "Where can I find Spike?"

  He gave a sharp shiver. "Listen, Mr. Sloan, you don't want to go near him. He's so dumb he's dangerous. Even with that big gun he'd try to grab you and if he did, he'd kill you. Stay away from him."

  "Where can I find him?"

  “I’m telling you, it's no good. Besides, he'd tear my head off if he thought I squealed."

  "Having Spike tear your head off is a problem to consider in the future, but unless you tell me now, you won't have any future."

  "He lives in a crumb joint on West Eighth Street. Number Fifteen-twenty. You ain't gonna tell him I sent you . . ."

  I said, "Get up, Stoker. On your feet."

  "What—you going to do?"

  "On your feet." I started raising the gun and he jumped up.

  "Give me a break, Mr. Sloan. I saved your life."

  "Get down on the floor," I ordered. "Flat on your back."

  "Sure. Anything you say, Mr. Sloan."

  He flopped quickly and rolled over on his back. I stepped up to him and pulled one foot back. "Next time you have lot of fun kicking a guy on the chin, I want you to know what it feels like. And next time we meet, Stoker, I'll kill you."

  He let out half a bleat before my foot found contact with his chin. His eyes glazed and he became quiet. I searched him, just in case he had anything which might point to the strange blonde. His pockets held nothing of interest and the dresser drawers contained only clothing. I walked out, feeling quite a lot better.

  Sheila would be going quietly nuts by now, so I couldn't delay going back any longer. It took a taxi forty minutes to make the trip, even at this time of night, but as it pulled into the long drive to the house, I saw that the party was still in full swing. I paid off the driver, took a quick look around and went over to where my new car was parked. When I opened the door, Sheila flung her arms around my neck. She'd been crying. I could see how tear-stained her make-up was.

  "Mike, oh, Mike, I've been so damned worried. You were gone so long that I . . ." She saw my face for the first time. "You've been hurt, darling. Mike, did Jack do that?"

  "I'm not certain who was responsible," I said, "but it's a good thing I gave you the necklace, because that's what they were after. Do you still have it?"

  "Yes—of course."

  "That’s great, baby. I'm going inside—only be a couple of minutes and then I’ll take you home."

  "Please hurry, Mike," she implored. I knew what was worrying her. If Kane got home before she did, he'd ask a lot of questions. I decided to talk about that later.

  I hurried into the house and sought out Mrs. Brindley. In the full light she saw my face immediately. "Mike, what in the world happened to you?"

  "Somebody tried to snatch your necklace," I said.

  "They tried to steal it from you?"

  "That's right."

  She said, "Mike, I don't care if they got it. Perhaps that impossible detective will claim you marked yourself up that way to account for the loss of the pearls. I won't believe that . . ."

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the phony string. "Thanks, Mrs. Brindley, because they didn't get them. Here they are, all repaired and ready."

  She wasn't fooled for one second. She knew those were phonies because of the difference in the clasp.

  I said, in a low voice, "I've got to talk to you alone. Everything is okay, including the pearls. Let's go back to that little room."

  We made our way there and I closed the door. "Thanks for not making a fuss when I handed you that phony string, Mrs. Brindley."

  "I was astounded, Mike, but I suppose you have a reason."

  "A good one. When they didn't find the necklace on me, they'll assume you have it. So—put this one on. If anybody holds you up, let them have it. If you'll come outside with me, I'll show you the real one—give it to you if you like, though I wouldn't advise that."

  "Keep it, Mike. I trust you. So I'm going to be held up."

  "I'm not sure, but it certainly seems as if you might. If you wish, I'll arrange a guard . . .

  She shook her head and smiled. "No thanks. It sounds exciting, and besides I can take good care of myself. Thank you, Mike, for what you've done—but what shall we do about that policeman?"

  "I'm going to sue."

  "Good—so am I. My lawyer is Oliver Parks. You'll find his address in the phone book. I'll meet you at his office tomorrow afternoon at two. I'm paying all the expenses. This is on me, Mike."

  I bussed her on the cheek, and she laughed and whacked me one on the rump. I helped her put the phony necklace on, and we went back to the ballroom where things were beginning to die off. I left her there, returned to my car and drove it away fast. Sheila said nothing until I started to talk.

  "Baby, I can't see your husband having anything to do with this attack on me. It would be simply too crazy for him to try. Besides, I understand it was directed by a woman."

  "A woman? Mike, that's fantastic."

  "In this business nothing is fantastic, beautiful."

  "Jack will be in an ugly mood even if he finds me there and if he doesn't . . ."

  I said, "After you go in, I'll wait around front for a while. If he starts anything, walk out and I'll be there."

  She touched my cheek. Her hands were cool and smooth. When we were near her apartment she gave me the genuine pearls.

  "They're so lovely, Mike. I hate to let them go."

  I grinned at her. "Then you'll have a string equally as lovely. I have them in stock, and I can make up a necklace in no time."

  "No, Mike. I wouldn't dare. Jack . . ."

  "Damn him," I said vehemently. "Every time I think of something good for us, he stands in the way. Baby, are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean, wrecking his career?"

  "I don't care what you do. Jack means nothing to me any more."

  "He's going to get it from two directions. Mrs. Brindley is hopping mad, and she's going to sue, too."

  Sheila settled back and closed her eyes. "I wish I could care, Mike. I married Jack, and I loved him once, but he isn't the same man any more. Sometimes I think he enjoys the power of his position above anything else. But he loves money too—or what it can buy." She broke off, then said, "There is
only one thing I'm happy about."

  "I hope it concerns me," I said.

  "It does. I'm glad you didn't steal that necklace."

  I braked the car and turned it toward the curb, stopped and kissed her soundly. "If you say so, baby, I'm finished with that racket."

  "No, Mike. I won’t give you orders. I’m only thinking that my life with Jack has been one of constant worry. I'd hate to have history repeat itself with you. I'm the worrying type, you see."

  I smiled at her. "I'm finished with the game, Sheila, but it’s possible the game isn't finished with me. There's something cockeyed going on. Two of my friends have been murdered. I know who killed them and I know why, but I'm not sure what's behind it. I have an idea they may pick on me next. If they do, I'm going to take them, baby."

  "I know how you feel, darling. I've got to run now. I hate to. Each time is harder, but some day soon, I hope, we won't have to say good night ever again."

  She got out of the car and hurried toward the entrance of her building. I sat there and smoked three cigarettes, giving her plenty of time if she wanted to come back to me. She didn't, so I drove around to my office. Carrying that necklace with me was tempting the fates too much. I wanted to put it in a safer place.

  Again, I unlocked the big glass door in the lobby, scribbled my name in the after-hours book, rode the self-service elevator to my floor and let myself into my office. I went straight to the safe, opened it and put the necklace inside. When the door closed and the dial spun under my fingers, I felt much better.

  There was a bottle of brandy in my bottom drawer. I fished it out, started to get up and fetch a glass and then said to hell with it. I tilted the bottle and drank. My stomach was still sore, and the fiery liquid didn't help at first. But after a couple of shots the pain went away and I began feeling very good.

  One thing puzzled me. What had Kane been after when he searched me that second time? He'd looked for something definite. It was no hunch that made him frisk me. He knew I wouldn't carry a gun on a job so that couldn't be it.

  I should have been tired. It was two in the morning and I'd been through a lot, but I had never felt more wide awake. I had another slug out of the bottle, lit a cigarette and propped my feet on the desk. There was a great deal to think about. Captain Kane, Sheila, the mysterious blonde number, but most of all I wanted to plan something of a future for Sheila. A first-rate future such as she deserved.

  I knew I was done with stealing. I'd seen it coming for some time now, and I only needed an incentive like Sheila to hurry things along. But until I found out what lay behind a couple of murders and a beating up I'd taken, I meant to stay around. Besides, there was my scheme to make Kane so disgusted he'd be glad to let Sheila go. She didn't know it, but that civil action I intended to institute against him would be a great big club. I'd wreck him first and then if he stood in our way, I'd use that club.

  Something scraped against the door of the outer office. My feet came off the desk fast and quietly. I stood up, whisked the .45 out of my pocket and killed the desk lamp. I walked toward the door to the reception room, lined myself up beside it and held the gun ready.

  Whoever it was used a key. I heard the outer door open, close after a couple of seconds and then someone moved across the floor toward my private office. There was very little light, only that which came from the street. When you're fourteen floors above the sidewalks, that light doesn't amount to much. It only enabled me to distinguish a slim figure coming through the doorway.

  I could have whacked him one with the gun and I was half tempted to, but that would mean waking him up afterwards. So I just took one step out from the wall, wound my left arm around the guy's neck and drove the gun into the small of his back. I drew a sharp yell. A feminine yell.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I turned on the lights and then let go of her. Mona was a pasty white under that olive complexion of hers. She grabbed at my arm for support. I dropped the gun into my side coat pocket.

  "Mike," she gasped, "you scared ten years off my life."

  "What are you doing here?" I asked. "And while I'm on the subject, I think you'd better leave your key."

  "Oh, Mike, don't be sore at me. I waited at your hotel for hours and when you didn't come, I got so damn worried. I came over here because I remembered that you never kept a haul intact any longer than necessary and I thought you might be in the workshop breaking down Mrs. Brindley's necklace."

  "I didn't get it," I said. "The lay wasn't right. Kane was there—in force."

  She moved closer to me. Mona was quite a woman. There was no denying that, and I was tempted to crush her to me with both arms. She had that sultry look in her eyes too—the kind she always got when things were exactly right and she wanted me to want her. I walked over and sat on the edge of the desk.

  "So you came here because you were worried. You didn't seem worried when you started smashing up the office."

  "I was a fool, Mike. You knew I'd be back."

  "I didn't even think about it, if there's any consolation for you in that statement. I've been too busy."

  "With Sheila Kane?"

  "Among other things. It's no concern of yours."

  She came up to me quickly. "Mike, have you forgotten what we meant to one another? Have you forgotten all our days—and nights?"

  "I have trouble with my memory. Especially when a girl starts throwing things. It gives me amnesia."

  She bit her lip. "I'm not going to get sore, Mike. You can't make me. I came because I have something to tell you. It would be a lot better for both of us if we were back where we used to be, but I'm not begging. I do have your welfare at heart."

  "Yeah," I said. "What are you measuring me for, a knife in the back?"

  She went around and sat in my chair behind the desk. She put her feet on it, pulled her dress high and gave me a good look at legs I used to think were absolutely marvelous. I still thought so, but I kept that fact to myself.

  "Things have changed, Mike. In town, I mean. They changed awfully fast."

  I said, "Yeah, I noticed they were digging another hole in the middle of Thirty-fourth Street."

  She didn't smile. "Somebody has taken over every fence, fingerman and smart thief, Mike. If you want to work this town, you've got to belong."

  "I'm not a joiner," I said.

  "You'll be dead if you fight them. Marty Carroll tried it. So did another man. They're both dead."

  "Come up with something new, baby. I even know who killed them."

  Her feet came off the desk fast "You do? Then you've already been approached . . ."

  “Take another look at my face, Mona. That's changed too. A pair of goons did that. They got nothing for their pains, but I came away with souvenirs."

  "Then you know how ruthless they can be, Mike."

  "I have a pretty good idea. How are you mixed up in this?"

  "They still thought I worked with you, and that they could reach you through me best. I was asked to meet someone in a cocktail room and that's when I got the lowdown."

  "Was this someone a gorgeous blonde number with blue eyes and a baby face? Perhaps a shape to make a guy drool."

  "Mike, have you met her too?"

  "No—not yet. When I do, I'll turn her fanny as blue as her eyes."

  "Oh, Mike, you don't know what you're saying. I tell you this is no fake. She has most of the good crooks in town sewed up already. It's become a syndicate. They're going to strip every dowager and movie star down to their gold teeth. By now I don't think there's a smart operator in town who doesn't belong. Those who hesitated about joining were shown the error of their ways."

  This was very interesting. A combine of all slick jewel thieves, incorporating, of course, the best fences and fingermen. I'd have wanted no part of it even if I hadn't already decided to give up the racket. But I wanted to know more. "So they contacted you. What was the proposition?"

  "It's very simple. You join the others. They set up the job see to it a max
imum amount of loot will be there for the taking. They case the place, get rid of any obstacles. You go in, help yourself and leave. You turn the take over, and, after it's converted, you get your share of the cash."

  I laughed at her. "You know how I've always worked, Mona. I don't split with anybody."

  "You'll have to from here on if you want to stay in business, Mike."

  "Have you joined them?"

  She tossed her head. "They don't want me except as an understudy to you. I'm just delivering a message."

  "I'd like to meet this blonde."

  "That can be arranged. I'm supposed to take you to her."

  "Ah—good. When?"

  "They'll send the word."

  "So I'm supposed to be taking orders already. Let her come to see me."

  Mona got up and walked toward me. "I'm warning you, darling, you're not playing games with these people. There's money behind them—and muscle, too, if muscle is necessary."

  "I'll think it over."

  She stepped up to me and suddenly put her arms around my neck. Her head was tilted invitingly, her lips waiting. I felt her body pushed hard against mine and, quite out of force of habit, I put my own arms around her.

  "Let's go in the back room, Mike."

  "Uh-uh. I told you, we were through."

  "I don't believe you." She reached my lips with hers and crushed them. My spine tingled. I'd be a liar if I said she didn't affect me. "I've come back to you, Mike."

  I forced her arms down and stepped back. "No sale, baby."

  “You couldn't put me off if I really went after you, Mike. You never could put any woman off." She threw her hat onto a chair, followed it with the light jacket she wore and then quickly unzipped her dress. She peeled it off. The dress was carelessly dropped to the floor and next she removed the slip too and stood there in front of me in panties and a bra. Her hair was wild, her eyes were hot and her smile and expression sure and eager.

  "Now stay away from me," she challenged.

  I blinked a couple of times. She started swaying, taunting me, laughing at me with her eyes.

  I gave a lunge, and she laughed shrilly and grabbed me hard. My hands slid down her smooth sides, followed the contours of her rounded hips. Then I raised my hand about two feet and brought it down in a sharp, painful slap that caught her squarely across the fanny.