by Bill Bernico
“What is it, Elliott?” Gloria said.
“It’s Ernie,” I said. “There were two guy chasing him out there on the platform. I couldn’t see where they went.”
A moment later the door to our car opened and Ernie rushed in, looking behind him out the door. He let out a deep breath and sat in the seat closest to the door. I hurried over to where he sat.
“I saw you out the window.” I said. “Who were those guys?”
“That was close,” Ernie said. “I just managed to grab the handle on this car and pull myself up before they caught up to me.”
Gloria came over to where we were sitting. “Are you all right?” she said. “Are those the two guys you were talking about who were after you?”
Ernie nodded. “The big one, the one with the flattop haircut, that was Galloway,” he said. “I never saw the other guy before. I guess it one of Galloway’s minions. Doesn’t matter. They know where I am now. They can phone ahead to the next stop and have someone waiting for me.”
Gloria pulled her cell phone from her pocket and flipped it open. “We can just call the local police and have them waiting for him in Needles.”
“He’s too smart for that kind of trap,” Ernie said. “He won’t be there himself. And the people he sends, well, the police won’t know who they’re looking for. It could be anyone.”
Gloria closed her phone and slipped it back into her pocket. She looked up through the glass door that separated our car from the one behind us and her eyes got wide. Ernie caught her look and glanced back over his shoulder. Coming through the doors at the other end of the car behind us were two men, obviously in a hurry. Ernie jumped up from his seat and dashed toward the front of the car, out the door and into the next car. Gloria and I followed close behind.
All three of us entered the dining car and kept going out the other end, never slowing down to look behind us. The club car came next and we rushed through that one as well.
“Why is the train slowing down?” Gloria said.
“I’ll bet one of those guys pulled the emergency stop cord,” I said.
“I don’t know about you two, but that’s my cue to get off,” Ernie said. “And if you had any sense, you’d follow me.”
“Why?” Gloria said. “They’re not after us.”
“They weren’t,” Ernie said, “But you can bet they saw the three of us talking and they have to figure that I told you both everything. Right now your lives aren’t worth a penny more than mine.”
The train slowed to fifteen miles per hour and Ernie took that opportunity to open the club car door and leap from the platform onto the grassy shoulder beyond the rail bed. I looked at Gloria and then back over my shoulder. Through the windows of two cars, I could see the two men coming our way. I made a split decision and told Gloria that I was getting off and that she’d better do the same. It didn’t take Gloria long to weigh her options and leap off right after I did. We landed several yards away from Ernie. The three of us got to our feet and ran into the wooded area alongside the tracks. A moment later we couldn’t even see the train.
“That was a close one,” Ernie said. “We’d better get out of here before they realize that we’re not on the train.”
“We’re at least two miles from Barstow,” I said. “We’ll have to hoof it from here.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Gloria said.
The three of us headed west, parallel to the tracks. Several hundred yards down the tracks, we turned and walked back to the railroad bed. It would be easier to walk on than it would trekking through the woods. I glanced down the track. The train had started again and by now was just a small dot on the horizon. I stepped onto every other tie, careful not to fall between them.
“Now do you believe me?” Ernie said after several minutes of walking the tracks.
“I never said I didn’t believe you, Ernie,” I said. “I just didn’t agree with your methods.”
“Well, what would you do if they were after you?” Ernie said.
“I’d call the local cops, the state cops, the feds and anyone else would could take them down,” Gloria offered. “Why try to do this on your own?”
“I guess I’ve lost faith in the system,” Ernie said. “Look what happened to the one good witness in Galloway’s case. I don’t want to join him.” Ernie stopped and added, “You’ll have to pardon me for a minute. Nature’s calling and I’d better answer.” He ran north and disappeared into the woods.
Gloria stepped up close to me and leaned in. “How well do you know this guy?” she said.
“Not that well,” I said. “Why?”
“How many times have you met him before today?” she added.
I thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I never have met him before. Dad told me about him after his case was finished and Ernie came to L.A. to pick up the bail jumper Dad found for him.”
“And you’re sure this is that same guy?” Gloria said.
“I’d have no idea if it is the same guy,” I said. “What are you getting at?”
“If you remember,” Gloria said. “When I applied for this job with your company I told you that I was a master at disguises?”
“Yeah?” I said.
“Well, I can also spot disguises on other people,” Gloria said. “And this guy who claims to be Ernie Ballard has a mole on his face. Do you know if the Ernie your dad met had one?”
“This guy has a mole?” I said. “I didn’t see one.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” Gloria said. “It’s covered with makeup. If this is your dad’s pal Ernie, why would he have to cover up a mole?”
I thought about the implications for a moment. “You think I should test him? Maybe ask him something only the real Ernie would know?”
“What have you got to lose?” Gloria said. “If he is the real guy a couple of seconds of clever interrogation should tell you one way or the other. What do you know about Ernie that a patsy might not know?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “If you recall, I said I didn’t even know him back then. If Dad was here he could tell.”
“But he’s not,” Gloria said. “Make something up if you have to. Just see if he slips up somewhere.” She turned toward the woods and saw Ernie coming back toward us. “Shhh, here he comes.”
Ernie joined us on the tracks and the three of us continued walking west toward Barstow. After a few steps I gave Ernie a tap on his shoulder and whispered, “Your zipper’s open.”
Ernie turned away from Gloria and zipped up his fly.
“Say Ernie,” I said. “You remember that bar where Dad said you could find your bail jumper? What was the name of that dive?”
“Why?” Ernie said.
“No reason,” I said. “I was just trying to remember the name of the bar. Dad told me when it happened, but I forgot it.”
“It wasn’t a bar,” Ernie said. “It was some flop house on Western. I think it was the Hotel Rectum.”
“Rector,” I said.
“Huh?” Ernie said.
“Rector,” I repeated. “It was The Hotel Rector. That’s right, I remember now.” I gave Gloria a sideways glance and she shrugged.
I did, however, recall that Dad had told me he’d collected four hundred dollars for his part in locating the bail-jumping client for Ernie. I turned to Ernie and said, “Dad always said that was the easiest grand he ever made. I remember the amount, because Dad used it as a down payment on his Oldsmobile.”
“It was worth it to me,” Ernie said. “I was risking a hundred fifty grand and the grand I paid your dad was well worth it to me.”
I slowed my pace enough to fall behind Ernie a step or two and then looked over at Gloria, shaking my head slightly. That was lie number one. I caught up in step and turned back to Ernie.
“When you picked that guy up at The Hotel Rector,” I said, “Didn’t he question the authenticity of your badge and uniform?”
“Not for a second,” Ernie said, shaking his hea
d. “He gave up without a struggle.”
I shot another sideways glance at Gloria, who immediately pursed her lips, but kept walking. I knew that bounty hunters couldn’t wear uniforms or carry badges. That was lie number two. Ahead about half a mile I could see the train depot at Barstow.
“Won’t be long now,” I said. “We can rent a car at Barstow and drive back to L.A. Are you coming with us, Ernie?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to hang around here and wait for those guys to come back,” Ernie said.
Twelve minutes later, we walked into the ticket office at the Barstow depot. I immediately sat on one of the benches, took off my shoes and rubbed my feet through my socks. Ernie sat opposite me on the other bench and did the same to his feet. Before he’d even gotten his shoes back on, four men in suits approached us, their guns drawn and pointed at all three of us. I recognized two of the men as the two who’d chased us through the train car. I’d never seen the other two.
“Keep your hands where we can see ‘em,” the first man said.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Gloria said. “Look around you. Are you going to kill all these witnesses, too?”
“Kill who?” the first man said. “What are you talking about, lady?”
The first man reached into his inside coat pocket. I was sure he was going to withdraw a silencer, but instead he pulled out a small leather case and flipped it open to show Gloria and me.
“Agent Harris,” the man said. “F.B.I. We’re here to take Frank Boyle into custody.”
“Who the hell is Frank Boyle?” I said.
Harris pointed with his revolver toward Ernie. “That is Frank Boyle,” he said. “And if you’re running with him, my guess is that you’re wanted, too.”
Harris kept his gun trained on me as one of the other men had me stand and patted me down. “Got a gun here,” the other agent said, pulling my .38 out of my underarm holster.
Harris gave me a cautious look.
“Tell your boy to get my wallet,” I said. “You’ll find my permit and license in it. I’m a private detective and so is my partner here.” I gestured with my raised hands toward Gloria. Gloria smiled nervously and nodded.
Harris took my wallet from the other agent and looked over my credentials. He tossed my wallet back to me. “Okay,” he said. “So you’re a shamus. What are you doing with Boyle?”
“I didn’t know he was Boyle,” I said. “I thought he was a guy named Ernie Ballard, the guy who hired me and my partner.”
“Hired you?” Harris said. “To do what?”
I looked over at Ernie and then back at Agent Harris. “To help him find an escaped prisoner named Mickey Galloway,” I said. “He told me Galloway had escaped from prison and was after him.”
“And you bought into that?” Harris said. “Galloway’s dead and so is Ernie Ballard.”
“Dead?” Gloria said. “How?”
“Boyle here, shot ‘em both,” Harris said. “Galloway did escape and came looking for Ballard and all Boyle had to do was follow Ballard, knowing sooner or later that Galloway would show up and try to get his revenge. Well, Boyle had Ballard’s office staked out and just waited until he saw Galloway and followed him into Ballard’s office. My best guess is that Galloway got the drop on Ballard while he was calling your dad to meet with him.”
“Dad’s recuperating at home,” I explained. “Ernie got me on the phone instead.”
I shot a quick glance at the man I believed to be Ernie. He said nothing but gave me a sly smile instead.
“Why?” I said to him. “Why put us through this whole thing? What did you need us for?” I stepped up beside Boyle and yanked on his goatee. It came off in my hand. I threw it on the floor and ran my finger across the makeup that covered his mole, exposing it fully now. Boyle drew his head back, away from me, and scowled.
Ballard/Boyle remained silent as the second agent slapped the cuffs on his wrists and lifted him to a standing position. He was still in his stocking feet and looked to his shoes as if to silently ask if he could slip into them again.
Harris looked at me again. “I’m afraid you two will have to come with us to the sheriff’s department until we can verify your identification. If everything checks out, you’ll be free to go. If not, well, I guess you know what we have in store for you both.
I nodded and peacefully accompanied Harris to their waiting cars and back to the Barstow sheriff’s department. Twenty minutes and three phone calls later, Gloria and I were freed. Harris gave me back my .38 and led Frank Boyle, a.k.a. Ernie Ballard into a holding cell. Harris instructed one of his men to drive Gloria and me back to the train station. There was a late train heading back to Los Angeles and we could just catch it.
I turned to Agent Harris. “What I don’t get about all this,” I said, “is why Boyle contacted me in the first place. I mean, why go through this charade?”
“Boyle didn’t contact you,” Harris said. “Ballard did and somehow Boyle knew about it, or maybe he was there when Ballard made the call. After the call, Ballard was expendable and Boyle took his place. I think Boyle just wanted to know what you knew.”
“About what?” I said. “I wasn’t aware that I knew anything that anyone else would want to know about, especially Boyle.”
Harris took a deep breath, exhaled and said, “Boyle didn’t know that. He thought he was meeting with Clay Cooper. Then he sees you and the lady and he has to somehow find out what’s going on.”
“So that’s the reason for the disguises,” Gloria said. “He’s not very good at it, either. I spotted his covered up mole and he didn’t bother changing clothes when he changed facial disguises, either. The amateur.”
The other agent stepped up to Agent Harris and waited patiently. Harris nodded to him and then turned back to Gloria and me. “Agent Kellerman here will drive you to the station. Sorry for the inconvenience but thanks for the help.”
Kellerman dropped Gloria and me at the station just as the train from Needles pulled up to the platform. Several people stepped off the train as Gloria and I stepped out of Kellerman’s car. We thanked him for the ride, walked into the station and presented our tickets to Winslow to the clerk behind the counter. He issued us new tickets back to Los Angeles.
“Our bags were on the train to Winslow,” I said. “How do we go about getting them back?”
“Your bags would have been unloaded with the other luggage in Winslow,” the clerk explained. “They’re probably still there.”
“But we didn’t check our luggage,” Gloria said. “We each had one bag under our seat.”
“They might still be there,” the clerk said. “You can check when you get back on. If they’re not there, chances are that someone else took ‘em. If that’s the case, there’s nothing else we can do about it.”
“Thank you,” I said, escorting Gloria back onto the train. We found the same seats we had and looked under them. The bags were still there and that struck Gloria as funny. She giggled like a little girl and flopped down into her seat, exhausted after our long ordeal with Ernie. I sat across from her, facing forward. Gloria thought about it for a moment and switched seats, settling down next to me.
“I guess I don’t like to ride backwards, either,” she said, locking her arm around mine and leaning into my shoulder.
I lifted my right arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her closer. I had a feeling that the trip back to L.A. was going to be a lot more interesting than the one that brought us here.
46 - Witness Protection
Johnny Banta squinted at the light in his eyes. He held one hand up in front of his face and dropped his head. “All right, already,” he said sarcastically. “You can knock off the Dragnet routine. I know my rights. You can’t pull this with me.”
A large hand swung out of the darkness and connected with the side of Johnny’s face. Johnny fell backwards out of his chair and quickly propped himself on one elbow. He rubbed his face with the other hand and scowled
. “You can’t get away with this. When my lawyer gets through with you, you’ll wish…”
A shoe caught Johnny in the ribcage and he fell over with a thud, gasping for a breath of air. Johnny moaned and curled up in a fetal position on the floor, pulling his knees toward his body.
Four hands grabbed at Johnny’s expensive suit and pulled him back up into the chair. Lieutenant Dean Hollister was the first to speak to him. “What is it you wanted to say to your lawyer, Banta?”
Johnny was still breathing in short, erratic spurts and said nothing. He just looked up at the lieutenant with a defiant smirk on his lips.
“First off,” Hollister said, “you haven’t been arrested yet. You’re just being held for questioning, so don’t give me any of that lawyer crap. You’ll see him when we’re damned good and ready. Second, you open your mouth again before I’m through and you won’t need a lawyer, you’ll need a dentist, got me? Third, we’ve got a witness who’ll swear in court that they saw you put three slugs into that businessman from Chicago last week. We’ve got you cold on that one. And lastly, when I ask you a question, I want an answer and I don’t want any runaround. Is that clear, Banta?”
Johnny looked at Hollister and then over at me. I was flexing my fingers, making a fist and releasing it again. Johnny looked back up at Hollister and nodded faintly.
Hollister made an exaggerated gesture of straightening out Johnny’s lapels and brushing him off. “Now, the first thing I want to know is who put the contract out on Detective Michaels? Give me a name, Banta.”
Johnny’s eyes danced back and forth between Dean and me. Several beads of sweat rolled down Johnny’s forehead and into his eyes. He rubbed them with the backs of his index fingers. Johnny licked his lips and weighed his options. He quickly glanced at me. I was running my hands over an eight-inch leather-covered sap with a leather strap that went around my wrist.
