by P. N. Elrod
He and I had had a run-in the other night at Gordy’s club when he’d still been working for Kyler. I’d won. When he woke up out of the sleep I’d put him in, he’d been plenty sore. Right now he looked like he wanted to pay me back for the humiliation. With interest.
He pushed the uniform and the manager out of the way and started to bull in. I let him come. In fact I grabbed his arm and dragged him in, swinging him around like a square-dance partner as I slammed my weight against the door to stop the others. I shot the bolt, which might buy me a whole five seconds of time until they broke through. I heard thumps and cursing on the other side.
Calloway had his gun out, but I was moving fast now, lots faster than he could follow. I slapped it from his grip, then got his skull between my two hands and made him look at me.
“Take a nap,” I whispered with as much force as I dared. His eyes rolled right up in his head and he fell like a brick. As his friends started banging their shoulders in earnest on the door and the hinges began to rattle loose, I took an instant to roll the man’s body up against it. Maybe it would buy a few more seconds.
I shot through to the bedroom and was happy to see Opal was already gone. Good, good girl. Now I grabbed the iron-framed bed and hauled it around to block this door. More time for us.
The window was open, the curtains flapping in the strong cold breeze. I clambered out and shut it behind me, then looked for Opal. She’d made the street and was clumping toward the Caddie.
Damn. She’d forgotten I still had the keys.
I went invisible and slipped down the stairs without a sound, going solid again as soon as I reached the sidewalk and began running toward her. She heard me coming, and glanced back in panic.
“It’s me,” I called. “Keep going!”
She kept going until she got to the car and tried the door, but I’d locked it earlier. I got the key out, opened it up, and bodily shoved her in. No squawks of objection this time. Jabbed the key in the ignition, hit the starter . . . and nothing happened. I cursed and tried again, checking that the gears were right. Nothing.
“They must know the car and have done something to it,” I said. “Get out and keep moving. Hurry!”
She did just that on her side, and I did the same, catching up with her in a few long strides.
“Put your gun in your purse,” I told her. “We don’t want to attract attention.”
She shoved it out of sight. “What’s going on?” she demanded, breathless as we hustled along the walk.
I looked back at the hotel and saw cop cars blocking the street, their lights flashing in circles, bright red patches moving against the surrounding buildings. “I think some of Sullivan’s boys are wise to this place and decided to check on it. My guess is that he’s the one behind the raid on the dance studio. They had no real reason to bother otherwise, there’s no election coming up just now.”
“Sullivan? But those were cops at the raid.”
“Kyler had some on his payroll, didn’t he?”
“Yes . . . ”
“So Sullivan just moved in and picked up the reins. Jeez, he must work as fast as Angela.”
“But those were cops.” She looked like someone had just told her the truth about Santa Claus.
“Bad apples in the barrel. The ones on the take sometimes do things for the mob. I thought you knew that.”
“I just know numbers.” She stared straight ahead, a stubborn set to her mouth.
Right. Another subject she didn’t want to talk about.
“We have to call Angela,” she said. “Have to tell her what’s happened.”
“I’m all for it, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid!”
“Okay, I’m all for it, Opal, but first we get clear of this and—”
Two cops stepped around the corner and stood right in our path. They were smiling, not at us both, but specifically at Opal. She wasn’t hard to miss, and for all I knew the whole Sullivan mob had a description of her right down to her wire-rimmed glasses. They’d probably been beating the bushes for her since she disappeared with the books.
“Hold it right there,” one of them said, drawing his gun.
“No need for that,” I said. “Calloway told me to get her back to the studio.”
“That’s not what he told us.”
He was too far away for me to chance jumping him, but at least his attention was on me, not Opal. “He changed his mind.”
“Since when?” Great, now his partner had his gun out.
“Why don’t you ask him? In the meantime I’ve got to get her—”
“I don’t think so, wise-ass,” said the first one. “Turn around and start walking back. We’ll all ask him when we get there.”
I tried focusing on him, but nothing happened. We weren’t close and the light wasn’t good enough for him to see my eyes clearly. Opal began to slip her hand into her purse, but I put an arm around her shoulder to stop her. “Take it easy. I’ll get this worked out.” She shot me a worried look. I winked back, but like the cops she seemed not to see in the darkness.
“C’mon, you an’ your girlfriend head back to the hotel.”
“I’m not his girlfriend!” Opal snapped.
They just laughed, which made her madder. I tightened my grip and muttered to her to calm down and do what they wanted. As our little parade proceeded along the street, Opal shrugged hard to shake my arm loose. I obligingly let go.
“What’ll we do?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“I got a plan,” I lied. “Just let me do the talking.” That seemed to settle her for the moment; as for myself, it only made my palms itch. The cops here could scrag me if they wanted—for all the good it would do them—but I wasn’t sure of their intentions toward Opal. To anyone with brains she was more valuable to Sullivan alive since she had information on where the books were, but who said any of these mugs had brains? Maybe Sullivan was looking to make an example of her on what double-crossers could expect from him.
Sullivan . . .
What the hell, since I couldn’t talk to Angela, then Sullivan was my next best choice. If I worked things right he could be a whole new cat to skin and nail to the wall. My date with Miss Paco would just have to wait.
The cops urged us toward the hotel until we reached its street entry with the cracked glass on the doors. Calloway was outside now, fully awake again, standing next to one of the squad cars, hands on his hips, looking both worried and disgusted until he caught sight of us. Then he looked delighted. On his face it was not a pleasant expression.
“Caught ’em at the end of the block, Lieutenant,” said one of the cops.
Calloway was licking his lips over Opal, then he focused on me. “Fleming.” What a load of bright hatred the man could put into one word. That the one word was my own name did nothing to ease my worry about the situation. This might be a lot harder than I’d anticipated.
“You know this bird, Lieutenant?”
“I know him. Kyler told me a thing or two. You keep your heaters on him, and if he even tries to look cross-eyed at you for a laugh, plug him.”
While his friend held his gun in my face the cop slapped me down and found Tinny’s .38 in my coat pocket. After that they seemed to relax, thinking they’d made me safe to be around. They didn’t even bother to search Opal or her purse. “He was with the girl. Tried to pass himself off as being with us. Thinks he’s smart.”
“We’ll see how smart. Bring ’em inside.”
The lobby had two cops in it, neither of them doing much to lift the tone of the place. The pale manager was off to one side, still looking scared. I didn’t see any signs of the hotel’s customers. Maybe they were making use of the fire escapes themselves.
“In there,” said Calloway, pointing across the lobby to some double doors. They’d probably once sported etched-glass panels to match the ones out front, but the glass was long gone, leaving sad, gaping openings into darkness. One of the cops pushed ahead and hit
the light switch. It looked better in the dark.
Opal and I were herded into the hotel’s radio room, but the radio wasn’t on and probably hadn’t worked in two decades or so, it was that old a model. The chairs and sofas meant for the comfort of its listeners were as worn and dusty as the rest of the place, and the ancient rug was so thin, patches of drab flooring showed through in spots. I wanted to take a bulldozer to the joint and put it out of its misery, preferably with crooked cops like Calloway and his friends still inside.
Calloway was a stocky man but with a strangely thin face, and one ear stuck out farther from his head than the other. Put that with sallow skin and cigarette-yellowed teeth and he was anything but leading-man material. He lit up a smoke, then gave Opal another lip-smacking once-over, probably already spending whatever reward Sullivan had offered for her return. “You the bookkeeper?” he asked her.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“Never mind.” He looked at me. “And what are you to little Miss Opal the bookkeeper, Fleming?”
“I’m just looking out for her.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you ain’t doing such a good job, are you, kid?”
In here the light was just fine. I focused on him, not too hard; I didn’t want his boys getting wise. “What are you going to do with us?”
His face went a little slack, but it couldn’t be helped. “Take you to see Sullivan.”
“And where is he?”
Then one of his very helpful friends in uniform stepped in and slammed a fist into my right kidney. My change had toughened me up, but he was big and it was a hard enough hit for me to feel it. My legs buckled from the impact; Opal gasped and grabbed at my arm. I didn’t quite make it to the floor, but it was a near thing. She kept me shored up until I could stand without wobbling. That son of a bitch had bruised me good.
“The lieutenant asks the questions here, Bo,” the cop belatedly informed me. I remembered him from a couple nights back, Calloway’s partner, Baker.
Any reply I might have had wouldn’t have endeared me to him, so I kept my mouth shut and rubbed my bruise.
“You’re not with Paco,” said Calloway. He’d snapped right out of it, but I could put him back under as soon as it suited me. “I know most of Frank Paco’s people, and you’re not one of them either.”
I kept shut.
“So who the hell are you, Fleming? And just why did Kyler think you were so dangerous?”
I threw a sideways look at the cop who’d hit me. He was grinning, indication that it would be his positive pleasure to pop me again. He wore brass knuckles. Jeez, no wonder he’d hurt me. “Kyler was nuts, not like Big Frankie, but nuts all the same, right? I just rubbed him the wrong way, is all.”
“You rubbed him out is what I heard.”
“Not me, Chaven did the honors. Thought he could take over running things. He planned to work something out with Angela Paco, but she didn’t want any of it.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I heard things. Last night I was in the room when he put four slugs into his boss.”
“You were, huh?”
“Yeah. Followed you and Baker from the Nightcrawler Club after you missed your chance to take out Gordy.”
He’d been drawing a long pull on his cigarette and suddenly choked. Smoke came out of his nose and mouth. One of the cops started to thump him on the back, but Calloway waved him off. “You—”
“Yeah, me.” I pretended to look around at the others. “Oops, did I let any cats out of the bag?”
The guy behind me. I caught the start of a movement from the corner of my eye, whirled, and sidestepped out of the way of his fist at just the right moment. He missed me and it threw off his balance. He recovered fast and looked ready to make another swing, but Calloway nixed him.
“Can it! Let him talk!”
Baker subsided, eyes full of hate, all aimed in my direction. He resumed his post behind me. I could hear his breathing.
“So you heard things at Kyler’s?” Calloway prompted.
“This and that. Not too much because Chaven was in a hurry. He corked Kyler, but before he could plug me next, I jumped through a window and ran like hell.” Not exactly, but the truth wouldn’t do me any good with this bunch.
“And how do you know about Angela Paco’s plans?”
“I was also at what was left of her daddy’s mansion last night.”
“Busy boy.”
“I was—wasn’t I, Opal?”
She nodded, looking serious.
“I had my ears open; I heard plenty. Angela took a shine to me and hired me on.”
“To keep an eye on Opal?”
“Something like that.” I hoped Opal would stay quiet until I played things out.
“Well, I’m firing you for her.”
“Not a good idea, Calloway.”
“Whyzat?”
I spread my hands, looking confident. “Because Sullivan’s gonna want to know what I know about Angela and what she’s got planned for him.”
He thought about it, then shook his head. “And I think you’re just gassing on to keep yourself alive.”
Time to try again. “Listen to me, Calloway. I’m telling the truth and you know it.”
His face went blank again, just for a few seconds. It was enough. Then his brow furrowed. “Listen . . . to you?”
“Yes. The best thing you can do is leave Opal where you found her, clear your men out, and take me to see Sullivan.”
It must have been the complete opposite of what he really wanted to do, because he didn’t fall all over himself trying to obey me. His expression clouded up as he struggled against it.
“Lieutenant, listen to me. . . .” I put on a little more pressure, but it must have spooked Baker; the bastard popped me in the same place. This time I did hit the floor. Just to my knees, but it shattered the fragile link I’d made.
“Like hell I will,” Calloway said somewhere above me.
Opal had dropped back this time; maybe she’d seen this kind of thing before and knew that she couldn’t help me.
I should have told him to do one thing at a time, like having him get rid of his men first, then I could have gone full force on him. Live and learn.
“Now, what’s the real story, punk?”
“It’s what he just told you,” said Opal.
We both looked at her in surprise. Calloway because she’d not been much of a participant until now and me because I didn’t think she knew how to lie.
“Angela wanted him to watch me, like a bodyguard. I don’t like him, though.”
“Stop, my heart’s bleeding,” he said.
“I don’t like you either. You’d better let us go or—”
“Or what?”
She bit her lower lip. “You’d just better, that’s all, or there’ll be big trouble.”
“The only big trouble is the kind coming to you, four eyes.”
Opal flushed red again, but from anger. “Don’t talk like that to me!”
I lurched to my feet. Baker braced himself for an attack, but I hobbled over to Opal instead. “Take it easy,” I murmured, touching her arm. “He’s not worth it.”
She shook me off, glaring.
“He’s only trying to provoke you, don’t give him the satisfaction. Just keep quiet and—”
“And what?” asked Calloway.
I turned back to him. “And give me a chance to get things worked out with your boss. You are planning to get us to him sometime in the next month or so, aren’t you? So how about you leave off taking cheap shots at the lady and start things moving?”
He looked ready to belt me one himself, but held off, his bloodshot eyes going hard. Then that unpleasant smile of his came back. “Okay. It’s gonna be a positive pleasure. I can’t wait to see what Sullivan does to you.”
No reply from me, I knew when not to push my luck.
“Where’s the phone in this dump?” he demanded.
“One at the desk,” someone an
swered.
“Keep these two on a leash till I get back.” He stalked out. I could see him through the empty panels turning his charm on the cowed manager at the desk. He got the phone he wanted and made a call. I could guess it was to report in to Sullivan.
Opal tugged hard at my coat sleeve, getting my attention. She didn’t voice any obvious questions, but her face was eloquent. She was scared and mad. I knew the feeling. I patted her hand.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “They’re not going to hurt you.”
Baker polished his brass knucks on his shirt and laughed once. I wanted to pay him back for that and a couple other things, but it’d have to wait. The other three who’d followed us in had their guns out. I wasn’t about to tackle the whole team with Opal still in the room.
Calloway didn’t take long and was full of orders when he got back. He sent one of his men out to fix the Caddie and his return signaled our general exit from the premises. I hoped the next joint would have better atmosphere. Before we’d quite got through the lobby, he made us stop again and ordered another man to cuff me and Opal together.
“Hey—no need for this,” I protested as he latched my right hand to her left. Opal gave out with a similar set of complaints, to no avail. They told us to shut the hell up and get moving.
“This stinks,” said Opal.
“Goes double for me, sister,” I grumbled as her big purse bumped against me. I thought about the .22 she had in it, but thinking about it was as far as it went. There’s a time and place for stuff like that, and it wasn’t here and now. The right moment would come, preferably when I was with Sullivan, and then I wouldn’t need a gun. If he wasn’t loony like Kyler, I’d be able to deal with him, then Opal and I could both climb out of the jam pot.
Two cops held the front doors wide for us, and out we went into the cold wind. Opal shrugged down in her coat.
Cars in the street: noise, exhaust, bright headlights. A big Packard that must have wandered into the seedy neighborhood by mistake swung around the corner and prevented us from jaywalking to the Caddie.
I saw what was wrong the same moment as the others and grabbed Opal, dragging her down. She yelped, the only human voice I heard before the machine-gun fire blotted everything out.
