“What about it, Snow? Cross?”
“Yeah, yeah, he owed me some money.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen thousand, give or take a hundred bucks. Not much, really.”
“Really?”
“Cross was a good customer . . .”
“Until recently?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I’m a detective, remember.”
He made a rude noise with his mouth and went on.
“He was getting in over his head and I had to cut him off. He had the same problem with a few others.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“That Chink, he let him in too deep, though. That shows his lack of experience.”
I had never thought of Wood as inexperienced, but I guess that’s what he was, compared to Arnie Court and Mort Snow. What about Piper?
“What do you know about Leo Piper, Snow?”
“Piper?” He made the same rude noise and said, “He gives my profession a bad name. He’s ambitious, but he’s just a punk.”
“Would you tell him that to his face?”
“Shit, no!”
“What’s he like, exactly?”
“You’ll find out,” Snow said. “At the very least I don’t think you’ll be able to make him not blink.”
“I’ll let you know,” I said. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me where to find him, would you?”
“Why don’t you ask your sources? They helped you find me, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t hard, Snow,” I said. “All they had to do was follow the smell.”
I started for the door, but he called out before I could reach it, in a funny tone of voice, as if he had just thought of something.
“Hey, Jacoby, wait a minute!”
“What?”
“Listen, you ain’t gonna give my name to the cops are you?” he asked, nervously.
“Not if I don’t have to, Mort.”
“What’s that mean? What would make you do that?”
“I could do it just because I don’t like you.”
“Hey—”
“Or I could do it if I find out you had anything to do with killing Alan Cross.”
“Hey, the guy owed me money, why would I want to punch his ticket?”
“You know, that line of reasoning isn’t doing much for the police, Mort, so why should it do anything for me?”
I started for the door again and he grabbed my arm.
“Hey, look, so we’re not friends, so what? That doesn’t mean you have to throw me to the wolves just to get that Chink—I mean, your friend—off the hook, does it?”
“Nobody said anything about throwing you to the wolves, Morty,” I said, getting a perverse sort of enjoyment out of his obvious discomfort.
“I didn’t have anything to do with killing Cross, Jacoby. That’s the truth.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, Snow. The truth shall set you free.”
“Jacoby, you gotta believe me!”
“No, Mort,” I said, turning toward the door again, “I don’t.”
I walked into the next room and found his man, Mickey, waiting.
“Show me the door, Mickey.”
“Sure thing.”
He lumbered ahead of me and when he opened the door for me he said, “I remember now. Wasn’t Benny Jacoby your brother?”
“Yeah, he was.”
“I fought him once, late in my career. He knocked me out, and retired me. How’s he doing?”
“He’s dead.”
“Too bad. How did he die?”
I started down the stairs and said over my shoulder, “I guess you could say somebody retired him, too.”
Sixteen
I spent the rest of the day trying to scare up Leo Piper, with no luck. I went back to Bogie’s and called Hocus to see if he had anything on Piper to give me.
“Even the boys in vice can’t put their finger on him, Jack,” Hocus said.
“I don’t get it. What makes him so much harder to find than the others?”
“You haven’t exactly been quiet about looking for him, you know. Maybe he’s just gone underground.”
“That would indicate that he was either nervous about me, or afraid of me. That doesn’t sound like the Leo Piper I’ve been hearing about.”
“You’re right. He has no reason in the world to be afraid of you.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I mean, you’re no immediate danger to him.”
“So why doesn’t he want to talk to me?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
“When you find him, ask him. Can I get back to work now?”
“Yeah, why don’t you?”
When I hung up I sat at the desk for a while, wishing I had Eddie Waters to talk to. I’d never know how good a detective I could have been if I’d had the opportunity to work full time with him for a while—and that was the least of the reasons I missed him. Eddie had always said that your next step was usually right in front of you, all you had to do was take a step toward it.
Just for something to do I opened the top drawer of the desk and there it was, right in front of my nose. The little notebook I had taken out of Alan Cross’s apartment. I hadn’t yet had time to really go through it, so I sat back and put my feet up on the desk and began flipping pages.
If it was meant to be his “little black book,” then Alan Cross must have swung both ways, because he had men’s names and numbers in there as well as women’s. There were no addresses, just names and numbers, and some kind of letter code following them: “Mindy, 265-8152 (L),” or, “Terry, 677-9743 (L, GS).” There was even one that read: “Joe, 765-8764 (H, B, G, A).”
What the letters meant I couldn’t even begin to guess. Maybe the thing to do would be to call somebody up and ask.
I picked a girl’s name at random and dialed the number, without having any idea what I was going to say if someone picked up.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice said.
“Hi, Mindy?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Hi, I’m a friend of Alan Cross’s. He gave me your number and I was wondering—”
“Alan’s dead,” she said, cutting me off shrilly. “Who is this?” Then, just like a woman, she hung up after asking me a question without giving me a chance to answer it.
I debated whether or not to dial another number, then decided to wait until I knew exactly what I was going to say.
The book was just another piece of the puzzle, but you can’t start fitting them together until you’ve got a couple of them in place, and I hadn’t even gotten that far yet. I stuck it in my pocket where I could get to it quick if the need arose.
Taking my feet off the desk, I picked up the phone and dialed Tiger Lee’s number on an impulse.
“Lee, it’s Jack.”
“Oh, hello, Jack. Is anything wrong?”
“I was just wondering if you’d had any dinner yet.”
“Dinner? No, I haven’t, but then I haven’t been eating much, lately.”
“Why don’t you come out with me tonight and get something? Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with something that might help Wood.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, Lee. Maybe there was something Wood said or did that you don’t remember right now, something that might help us set up his defense.”
“I don’t know what I could—well, all right. I still have some work to do, though, so I’ll have to get back early.”
“That suits me, Lee. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Fine. See you then, Jack.”
“I don’t know what else I can do for you, Jack,” Lee said.
We were at a small restaurant not far from the apartment she shared with Wood. Neither of us had suggested eating in the Italian restuarant right beneath them, because neither of them ever went there. For Wood, that would have been mixing business with pleasure.
“Wood doesn’t really discuss business with me. Oh, he talks to me more than anyone else, but he never really gets into it too deeply, you know?”
“Yeah, he’s a close-mouthed person, all right. Maybe if he talked a little more . . . Lee, can you see what you can dig up on Leo Piper for me? He’s the only one I’m having trouble locating.”
“I’ll make some calls, but I don’t know if I can come up with anything.”
“Give it a try, anyway.”
“Of course I will.”
I looked at her plate, which was half full.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes,” she said, also looking at the plate. “I told you I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”
“I understand. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
During the walk I asked her, “Lee, have you and Wood ever met Piper?”
She hesitated a moment, then said, “Once.”
“When?”
“He came to see us—to see Wood when he first came to New York.”
“What did he do, propose a partnership?”
“Hardly. He wanted Wood to work for him.”
“Wood said no, of course.”
“Of course.”
“What was Piper’s reaction?”
“He threatened Wood.”
“What?” I asked, stopping abruptly and grabbing her by the shoulders.
“He made a threat—”
“You see? This is what I meant by jogging something loose. Was he specific in his threat?”
“No, not that I remember,” she said, thinking back. “He just said that Wood would be sorry, and left.”
Realizing that we were standing stock still on a darkened New York street—not the healthiest thing to do in that part of town—I said, “Let’s go upstairs.”
When we reached the door to the apartment she said, “Are you coming in?”
I shook my head.
“Just give me a description of Piper.”
“Same age as you and Wood, tall, well built, dark hair, neat but long. New breed.” She recited it very clinically, almost coldly.
“Like Wood?”
“In a lot of ways, I’d say. Cool and calm, in control.”
“Attractive?”
She stared at me a moment, then said, “Yes.”
“All right,” I said, “thanks, Lee. Make those calls, huh?”
“Tonight, and I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Good enough.”
I started down the hall and she called, “Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for dinner.”
“My pleasure, princess. Get some rest.”
“I will.”
When I got down to the street I started walking towards Canal Street to get a cab.
Lee hadn’t fooled me with that business about Wood not confiding in her. I was willing to bet that she knew almost as much about his business as he did. Otherwise, how could she run it while he was away?
There was something else, too. When the subject had been steered to Piper, I had gotten some bad vibes from her. She hadn’t reacted. Her answers had been cool and unemotional, even when talking about how he had threatened Wood. I’d chosen not to pursue it right then. I was much more interested in the fact that Leo Piper had threatened Wood. Could Piper have killed Cross and pinned it on Wood?
That was a distinct possibility, the kind a good lawyer like Heck Delgado could get some mileage out of.
I hoped.
Seventeen
As promised, Lee called me the next morning, but she didn’t have anything to give me.
“I made some calls, Jack, but apparently Piper keeps a very tight lid on where he is at any given time. He seems to stay put for about as long as it would take to get a cup of coffee. I’m sorry, Jack.”
“Don’t worry, Lee. That little bit of information you gave me last night might make up for it.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I’m going to see Heck today and find out. I’ll let you know what happens.”
When I had returned home—to Bogie’s—the night before, I had called Heck and asked if I could see him early the next morning.
I got to the office before Heck, but Missy was there behind her desk, as she always seemed to be.
“Isn’t this a little early for you?” I asked.
“I get started early from time to time,” she said. “Besides, somebody had to be here to let you in.”
“Why not Heck?”
“Because he’s the boss, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
At that moment the boss walked in and said, “Come on inside, Jack.”
“Got time for a cup of coffee?” Missy asked him.
“One.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
In his office Heck said, “What have you got, Jack?”
I told him about the conversation I’d had the night before with Lee about Leo Piper, and how Piper had threatened Wood.
“How long ago was that?”
As soon as he asked I realized what a dunce I had been. When Lee mentioned the threat I’d been so excited I’d forgotten to ask how long ago it had occurred.
“It was . . . back when Piper first came to New York,” I said, but I couldn’t let it go at that. “I just got so excited when she told me that I . . . forgot to ask exactly when it happened.”
“That’s all right, it doesn’t really matter, anyway.”
“Why not? We’ve got a threat against Wood—”
“Only Wood wasn’t the one who was killed,” Heck said, interrupting me, “Alan Cross was. To suggest to a judge or jury that Leo Piper threatened Knock Wood Lee, then killed Alan Cross and pinned it on Wood is—well, Jack, it’s a bit fanciful.”
“Fanciful?”
“To take into a court of law, yes.”
“Heck—”
“We need facts, Jack, not suggestions.”
Missy came in carrying two cups of coffee and immediately sensed my discomfort. She put the two cups down on Heck’s desk and left without a word.
“Look, Jack,” Heck said, leaning forward with his hands clasped atop his desk, “it’s something, I admit, but it’s something for us to pursue further in the hope of coming up with some facts. Just keep at it, Jack.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Missy told me what happened at Bogie’s,” he said, changing the subject. “Is that connected with Wood’s case?”
“I can’t be sure.”
“Well, just be careful, then. Who did you turn that missing girl case over to?”
“Henry Po. Didn’t Missy tell you?”
“That’s right, she did,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve been so busy of late . . . I don’t think I know him.”
“He’s a good man, a better detective than I am.”
I stood up and Heck said, “Jack—”
“That’s just a statement of fact, Heck,” I said. “I’ll get out of your hair now and check in when I have something more concrete.”
“All right.”
When I left his office Missy said, “Jack, everything all right?”
“Sure. I just made a fool of myself, that’s all.”
“Eddie did that a time or two.”
I looked at her and the concern was so evident on her lovely face that I smiled.
“Yeah, he did, didn’t he? Thanks, kid. I’ll be talking to you.”
“Sure, Jack. Why don’t we have lunch or dinner together?”
“I’ll call you.”
I left, consoling myself that I’d learned a valuable lesson about clutching at straws, which made it a profitable morning.
Sure.
I was closer to Bogie’s than to my office on Fifth Avenue and Forty-ninth Street, but I wanted to be alone, so I walked all the way uptown despite the cold
weather.
When I got to my office I sat behind my desk and rubbed my face with my hands. I sat staring at the ceiling, waiting for the ghost of Eddie Waters to come down and tell me what my next move should be—but that wasn’t about to happen. Besides, I knew what my next move was: Piper. The only problem was I was either too dumb to find him, or he was too smart to let me.
I called Lee and asked her the question I should have asked her last night.
“When was it that Piper came to see you and Wood?”
“Oh, months ago, when he was just setting up in New York.”
“How many months ago?” I sounded impatient, but my impatience was with myself.
“Five, six months.” The tone of voice I’d noticed the night before was creeping in again, and I was so frustrated that I decided to ask.
“That’s a little vague, isn’t it, Lee?”
“Well, I can’t remember exactly.”
“Why not?”
“Jack—”
“What’s going on, Lee?” I asked. “What is it that you’re not telling me . . . and why?”
“Nothing, Jack. I just—”
“Lee, I don’t have to tell you how important this is to Wood, do I?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you see Piper again after that time with Wood?”
There was a pause and then she said, “You won’t tell Wood?”
“Not if there’s no reason to.”
“I did . . . see Piper one time after that.”
“Where?”
“He came to the apartment.”
“Wood wasn’t there, of course.”
“No, he wasn’t, and Piper knew it.”
“What did he want?”
“Me,” she said. “He wanted me to leave Wood and go with him.”
“To work?”
“No, just to be with him. He said he’d pay me a lot of money to leave Wood and be his lady.”
“When was that?”
“A week after he spoke to Wood.”
“I don’t understand, Lee,” I said, puzzled. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I don’t want Wood to find out.”
“What would he do if he found out?”
“Jack, if Wood found out . . .” she began, but she let it trail off and she took a long, shuddering breath.
“Lee?”
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