“There’s something wrong,” Casey said. He didn’t know what it was or what to say, but the tension was spreading along his back and his pulse was quickening. “Let me talk to him and see—”
“Nuts to that.” And Logan was going up the stairs with Manahan and Casey following.
They went down the hall and Logan tried the door. When he found it locked, he knocked.
“Open up.”
“No,” John Perry said. “You have no right to come in here. The envelope is mine. It was addressed to me.”
“Listen.” Logan was furious now and his frustration made his voice mean and hard. “I can think up some reasons to take you along. Either you unlock that door or we get another key from the landlady and unlock it for you.” There was a silent pause. “Do you hear?”
“If you do,” John Perry said, “you’ll never get this envelope. If you’re not gone in three minutes I’ll burn it.” His voice rose. “Do you understand? I’ll burn it.”
“Wait a minute, John,” Casey said. “Don’t be a fool,” he said quietly to Logan. “Come here.”
He took the lieutenant’s arm again, tugged at it. Logan fought him a moment but something in the big photographer’s face made him change his mind and he moved a few feet down the hall.
“The guy is scared stiff.”
“Who cares?” Logan said.
“And he’ll burn that thing too and then where’ll you be?”
Logan looked at him and Casey hesitated. He didn’t know what he was groping for but there was something so wrong about this whole incident that it scared him. If they were right about the envelope, then everything John Perry had lived for would be his. Yet, with all this in the palm of his hand, he refused to take the step that would make it a reality. When he said he would burn that envelope rather than give it to Logan, Casey believed him. And he remembered the telephone call before the mailman came and suddenly he began to understand what must have happened.
“Break in on him,” he said bluntly, “and you’ll be in a spot and you know it. You’ve got no warrant and no legal right to that envelope.”
“I don’t give a good—”
“Sure you do. Listen. You’re always talking about me and my luck and the breaks I get. All right. Do something for me. Beat it. You and Manahan were spotted coming here, that’s sure. The phone call you heard was for Perry. You know why nobody showed up for that envelope, don’t you?”
Logan peered at him, his anger fading and sanity returning.
“Humor me, will you?” Casey said. “It’s only five minutes or so from here to your office. You and Manahan get out, let yourselves be seen.”
“What about you?”
“I stay. I’m not a cop.”
“No,” Logan said.
“You think he won’t burn that envelope if you break in? What the hell, my way is the only way. I’ll get in that room, and I’ll stick with that kid. The second I can, I’ll phone you. You can put a radio car a block away. What the hell have you got to lose? You haven’t got the envelope now and you haven’t got those two gunmen. You won’t get them staying here and you know it.”
Logan shook his head. “Suppose those two hoods come back?”
“Suppose they do,” Casey argued.
“Maybe you think you’ll beat them to death with that camera.”
“I’m staying with the kid. That’s all I’m promising. What the hell, do you think I like this? Do you think I’d stick my neck out if there was any other way? You think I’m trying to pull a fast one—”
“It’s maybe the best way,” Manahan said.
Logan looked at him; he looked at Casey. Suddenly something happened to his face and he was no longer peering.
“God help you if you muff it.” Like that he gave in, his voice grim, even, and resigned. “Manny and I are going for a warrant. We’re leaving you to keep Perry company.”
“That makes sense,” Casey said. “That way you’ll still be a lieutenant.”
“But if you let him out of your sight or if he destroys that envelope on account of you—”
“Shove off,” Casey said. “I heard you the first time.”
Even then Logan retired reluctantly and Casey could understand that. He knew his way was best and so did Logan, but Casey could think of no other detective who would have had the good sense to accept the risk. Because they were cops, most would have bulled through a situation like this and have ruined the thing they wanted most; that Logan was willing to leave was simply because, thinking reasonably, he trusted Casey and knew that whatever the final job, Casey could probably handle it as well as he himself could.
Casey watched them down the stairs. He went back to Perry’s room and knocked.
“It’s Casey,” he said. “They’ve gone. Open up, will you?”
“You’ve got to go too.”
“Un-unh. Why do you think I talked Logan into going? I know you’re in a jam, and I’ve been in your corner right from the start, haven’t I? And Karen Harding’s corner too. You don’t think I’d do anything to put either of you in a spot, do you?”
He got no answer to this, so he said, “I know you had a phone call just before the mailman came. And I can guess who it was from. They gave you your orders and they’re going to call back, aren’t they?”
“You’d better go,” Perry said. “I—I can’t take a chance.”
“I’m staying,” Casey said. “I promised the lieutenant. I’ll wait in the hall. You can’t get out any other way, and you’re going to have to deliver that envelope some place—or else someone is coming for it. I can wait here just as well if you’re going to be stubborn about it.”
When Casey talked like that he influenced people. What he said was both reasonable and matter-of-fact and it left its impression on John Perry.
“Will you promise not to try and take the envelope?”
“I promise.”
Perry made a muted sound that sounded almost like a groan, as though he no longer had the resistance with which to fight. The key clicked and Casey went in.
One look at Perry told him what the other had been through. His pale face was moist and behind the tortoise-shell glasses the misery in his eyes was plain.
“They’ve got Karen,” he said.
Casey sat down. He had kept that thought submerged because he had been afraid to consider it, and now that he was sure, a vacuum grew where his stomach had been, and something cold was reaching for his nerve-ends.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was the only way to get to you in case they slipped up with the mailman. They had this place staked out. They must have seen Logan and Manahan.”
“They told me if I opened the envelope or if the police got hold of it—”
“They could be bluffing.”
“Do you think I’d take a chance?”
“No,” Casey said, and knew that he could take no chances either. Not with that girl. Not after he had really involved her in this mess in the beginning. He looked at Perry, seeing him now in a new light as he realized what this sacrifice would mean.
“That envelope will probably clear you. It might even get you back your half interest—”
“Do you think I care about that? I’d already written off that formula. I hoped there might be some way I could get a pardon, but what good is a pardon if Karen—”
The shrill peal of the telephone bell cut him short. Casey jumped up and Perry leaped for the door. Casey caught him.
“Easy now.”
“Let go.”
“Easy,” Casey said again. “Don’t muff it. They probably know I’m here. If they do, let me talk to them.”
Perry wrenched free and opened the door. He silenced the second ring of the telephone and Casey held his breath and listened.
“Yes,” Perry said. “Yes.… No, I haven’t opened it. I know he’s here but the police have gone. Casey got rid of them.”
Casey grabbed the receiver and shunted Perry out of the way. “Hello,” he said, “this is Casey. Sp
eak your piece.”
“You get five minutes to clear out of there,” a low voice said.
“Okay. But I stay with Perry.”
“You’ll get the hell away from him or it’ll be too bad for that girl.”
“Perry has the envelope,” Casey said. “It hasn’t been opened and he’s ready to do whatever you say about it. Only I go with him.”
“No dice,” the voice said, and behind him Casey heard John Perry say, “Good God, Casey! No! Here, let me talk to him.”
Casey held him off with one hand and shook his head. “You’ve got the girl. We have the envelope. All we want is to be sure she’s all right and that you let her go when we deliver the envelope.”
“On that, you take my word.”
“Not today or any other day. Perry and I’ll deliver that envelope wherever you say. The police aren’t in on it. What more do you want? Don’t tell me you’re scared of me. You’ve got guns, haven’t you? Or am I too tough for you?”
“I’m tired of gabbing,” the voice said. “The kid comes alone or else—”
Casey had done a lot of thinking in a very short time. He knew he was losing out and he suddenly decided that attack was better than defense. It was a chance, but not much of one, considering the circumstances.
“You heard me,” he said, “and you’ve got two minutes to make up your mind. Call me back by then or we’ll call your lousy bluff.”
He slammed down the receiver and turned just as John Perry swung at him. He caught the other’s fist in his palm, clamped it there, and spun him so he could hold Perry from behind.
“Take it easy,” he snapped. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Damn you,” Perry sobbed. “Oh, damn you. You promised—”
“It’s all right, I tell you. They won’t bother the girl if they don’t have to. They want that envelope just as bad as we want her. Suppose they don’t turn her loose? What could you do alone?”
He let go and Perry slumped back against the wall, panting from his struggle, his breathing a strangled sound in his throat. Casey swallowed and found he had to try twice. Suddenly the gloomy hall was hot and close and the sweat broke out all over him. Suppose he had been wrong? But—no, he couldn’t be! And he couldn’t let Perry go alone. What he himself could do against the others he wasn’t sure. Possibly nothing, but at least he—
He had the receiver off the hook before the telephone stopped ringing.
“Okay, tough guy,” the voice said, “but don’t think I won’t remember this. Here’s what you do.” He named a corner and Casey repeated it. “It’s just three blocks from you and you’ve got four minutes to walk it. Walk fast and don’t stop to call the cops and you can probably make it.”
“We’re on our way,” Casey said, and hung up.
John Perry didn’t even stop for a hat or coat. He slammed his door and was right at Casey’s heels going down the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-One
MAYHEM UNMODIFIED
CASEY EXPLAINED what the man had said as they came out on the sidewalk. He was walking fast, the plate-case banging on his hip, and Perry had to run a couple of steps every once in a while to keep up.
“You won’t try anything?” He was excited now, feverish in his haste and anxiety. “You promised.”
“Sure,” Casey said.
“You must do exactly as they say.”
“Sure.”
Perry tugged at his arm as he loped alongside. “You’re not just saying that? I don’t want you to do a thing that might spoil it. I don’t care about the envelope. It’s my fault Karen—”
His voice fumbled and broke on the word and Casey’s bitterness was like a vise around his heart. Perry’s fault? Like hell. He was the one who really got her mixed up with those two hoods in the first place. If it hadn’t been for MacGrath, if he hadn’t insisted on taking her out to Byrkman’s place that first night so she could sneak back and take that picture, these guys might not have known about her.
He was pretty miserable about the envelope. He knew what it meant to Perry, realized that only by the luckiest of breaks was the envelope mailed by Morris Loeb at all. And now Perry was going to lose it. There wasn’t any other way. Yet Casey meant just what he said when he promised Perry. No tricks. He could not think of any in the first place, and even if he could, he could not jeopardize the girl. If she was all right, if he could be sure she was released, that would be enough. He’d have to make Logan believe that this was the only possible way.
He saw the man behind the small sedan when they were about a hundred yards away and as they approached he memorized the number on the license plate. He did not expect that it would do much good, but it was something to do, something he could tell Logan.
They were a hundred feet from the car when the man moved away from the far side and stepped out on the sidewalk. It was the blond Nossek. He was watching both sides of the street. He had a hand in the pocket of his light gray topcoat and the front of the hand ended in the muzzle of a gun outlined plainly underneath the fabric.
“Hi, Blondie,” Casey said, slowing down.
Nossek inspected him from hooded lids. He looked at Perry. He didn’t smile and his mouth was ugly.
“Get in,” he said, and opened the sedan’s doors. “In front. You do the driving.”
Casey slid behind the wheel and Perry got in beside him. Nossek got in back and closed the door.
“Let’s go,” he said, “and we’d better not be followed.”
“We won’t be,” Perry said.
Casey started the car and Nossek told him to drive downtown. Casey made a U turn and Nossek cursed softly.
“It’s going to be tough if you get picked up for a traffic violation,” he said. “You got that envelope, Perry? Let’s see it.”
Perry reached inside his coat and Casey put a hand out and shoved Perry’s arm away.
“When we see the girl,” he said.
Nossek did not answer right away; when he did there was a sneer behind his words.
“Okay, tough guy. Just remember that you asked for this. Swing over to Beacon at the corner.”
Casey made the turn and they drove silently for a block or two; then Perry couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“You said Karen was all right.”
“Sure,” Nossek said. “She’s in the pink.”
They crossed the Avenue. The traffic was heavy now and Casey kept in line, driving automatically and thinking hard. A police car moved up on one side and kept pace with them for a second or two and seeing the two officers gave Casey a jolt.
The whole department was looking for Nossek and now Casey was afraid one of the men might recognize him. He half turned. Nossek had seen the car too. He was back in one corner, looking the other way. One of the cops glanced at Casey and grinned.
“Hiya, Flashgun,” he said through the lowered window. “What d’ya hear?”
“Nothing much gives, chum,” Casey said and waved carelessly.
The police car moved on and Casey felt better.
“That time you were lucky,” Nossek said. “Turn left when you come to Charles.”
Casey made the turn. He had had plenty of time to think and mostly it had been about Nossek and Harry. It all came back to him now, the ransacked desk, the smashed plates, the rap from behind that had knocked him out. All that resentment welled up again, becoming the more poignant as he realized that once more these two had the upper hand and that there was nothing he could do about it. This feeling of anger and frustration rode with him until Nossek ordered him to make a right turn and then, as they started up the hill, Casey sat up and forgot his complaints. Because this was the street where Karen Harding lived and—”
“Say,” John Perry said. “This is—”
“Yeah,” Nossek said. “Just pull up in front and park. You know the house.”
Casey fought down his rising amazement, and when he had the answer he saw how very cleverly this whole affair had been conceived an
d executed. It was daring, but so completely simple as to be practically riskless.
There could be no kidnaping charge ever laid against Nossek and his associates. Karen Harding had not been kidnaped. She was merely entertaining callers. Casey and Perry had not been kidnapped. They were coming here of their own free will. If Karen had not been harmed the most that could be charged against Nossek was simple assault—unless he used his gun.
“This is fine,” the blond man said. “Park here and get out.”
Casey parked. He got out and took his plate-case with him. Nossek came round behind them. “Just take it easy—and don’t get ideas. You first, Perry.”
They went in and started up the stairs in single file. At the third floor landing, Nossek stepped ahead and knocked once loudly followed by three quick knocks of a more gentle variety. The door opened and Harry looked out, a gun in his hand.
That he had not expected Casey was obvious from his first reaction. His jaw sagged and the brows that nearly met above his nose flicked upward. He squinted at Nossek and scowled darkly.
“What the hell!”
“I had to bring him,” Nossek said and explained briefly the telephone conversations.
“So,” Harry said, and grinned. “He wanted to come for the ride, huh? Okay. I’m glad to see you, pal. Come in.”
Casey went in with Perry. Harry moved back to the center of the room. With his hat off his black hair was sleek and greasy, with every strand in place.
“Where’s Karen?” Perry said huskily.
“She’s in conference.”
Casey moved up another step and that’s when he saw the third man in the room. This one he recognized, a sloping-shouldered man with a twisted nose and not much neck. Casey couldn’t remember his name at first but he had seen him around and knew what he was—an ex-pug and not a very good one, who made a dollar here and a dollar there in any way he could—so long as no work was involved. Then the name came to Casey.
“Hi, Mugsie. You don’t care what you do any more, do you?”
“Am I doin’ anything?” Mugsie said. “Me friends here wanted a third for rummy so I come along.”
Nossek closed the door. He was watching Casey all the time and his pale eyes were flat and mean.
Murder for Two Page 18
