by J. T. Edson
With that in mind, the sheriff had called in the team directly concerned with the investigation and asked all the other city deputies to gather in the squad room by four o’clock. Everything had been arranged when Alice and Brad arrived. McCall met them at the elevators, taking them straight to Jack Tragg’s office. There they found the sheriff, Buck Shields and Alvarez waiting.
No matter how he dressed, or the fact that he worked out of a room more suited to a high-up business executive, Sheriff Jack Tragg always looked like a typical Texas lawman. Six foot one in height, lean as a steer raised in the greasewood country, he had short-cropped black hair and a tanned face that told of self-reliant strength. For his appearance before the television cameras, he wore his uniform. The Colt Python .357 Magnum revolver hanging from his belt’s fast-draw holster was no decoration or mere badge of office. When trouble threatened, Jack Tragg could be counted on to be out front, leading his men.
Reading the significance of the sheriff’s clothing, Alice and Brad did not need to ask what his appearance and statement would be concerned with. Probably there had been considerable agitation from high places over the three killings. Not that Jack would permit it to influence his judgment Certainly he would not be looking for victims on whom to lay the blame for the lack of success. That was not his way. As long as they were in the right and doing their best, he would back his deputies to the hilt against anybody or everybody.
‘How about this one?’ Jack asked after the newcomers had been seated before his desk.
‘The same as the others,’ Alice answered. ‘The killer came and went without being heard or seen.’
Even as she spoke, Alice felt an uneasy stirring at the very back of her mind. Something that had been said to her recently seemed to ring a bell. Before she could decide what it might be, Jack asked to be told everything that had happened so far. He was a good listener, interrupting only when he wanted to clarify some point. That did not happen many times.
Buck Shields opened with an account of his abortive attempts to find a motive for Morgan’s murder and ended with a statement that he believed the combine were in no way involved. Then Alice took up the story. Working from the notes she and Brad had taken, she gave a clear, concise picture of all the team had done. What was more, she knew that the sheriff had sufficient practical experience to follow everything she told him. Unlike in many Western counties, the sheriff held a permanent rather than elected position. Jack Tragg was a professional peace officer rather than a political office-filler. So he knew exactly what his deputies had been up against.
‘You’ve done well,’ Jack complimented. ‘Now, I think we can rule out them being indiscriminate killings by a nut looking for kicks. And they weren’t done as a prelude to robbery. So we’ll assume that the killer is picking his victims and try to decide why. Even with a psycho there’s a point of contact in his selection of victims. It may be devious, but it’s there. If we can find it, we’ll at least have his motive.’
At one side of the room stood a large blackboard. The sheriff and his deputies turned their attention to it.
Age Business Nationality Marital Status Religion Politics Mil. Service Lodges'
Financial
Vietnam
Criminal Connects.
Morgan
59
Farmer (Moonshiner) American (Welsh) Bachelor
Baptist (not active} Democrat (not active) U.S. Army WWI, n Elks
Middle-income Hawk (not active) Moonshine combine
Hagmeyer
43
Theatrical Producer American (Jewish) Married
Jewish (not active) Liberal Republican None 4-F None
Well-to-do Dove (very active) None known
Cortez
38
Dice Mechanic Mexican
No known marriage Catholic (not active) Not known None
None known Currently good Not known Definite crim. conns
‘And if you can see a point of contact, other than them all being male, I’d admire to hear it,’ Jack said. ‘They don’t come together on anything else.’
‘If they are tied in with each other, it won’t be recently,’ Alice stated. ‘But it’s getting on for twenty years since they were all in town at the same time. Unless Hagmeyer came back again more recently.’
‘His wife doesn’t know about it if he did,’ Brad pointed out. ‘What was Cortez doing back in the late forties?’
‘I’ve had R. and I. going through the old records,’ McCall put in. ‘We can’t tie Hagmeyer with the other two, or Tap to Cortez in any way. Back in the forties Cortez was just a punk. He had a couple of 1422 [xx] falls, one for 142 [xxi] and in ’52 went down for seven years on a 1408. [xxii] He was paroled after five years and has been clean ever since.’
‘Looks like he learned a trade in the Walls,’ Buck Shields said dryly.
‘He did,’ Jack agreed. ‘How to be a dice mechanic. Did he work with a partner, Mac?’
‘Sure, but never the same one twice,’ the Scot replied, studying his notes. ‘The blue-noses told me that he never works with any particular dice-mob. He hires out to any steer-gang who’ve got a sucker but don’t want to chance using a wired table. They say it’s at least six months since he was last in Gusher City.’
‘What else have you learned, Mac?’ Jack inquired. Knowing that Alice and Brad would be fully occupied with the Cortez killing, McCall had set himself to tie up other loose ends for them. That was the kind of team-work by which a modern law enforcement agency solved its crimes.
‘I had the Schools Detail talk to some of the Lefarge girl’s crowd. It looks like she had told them about the Queen of Clubs caper, but meant to keep Hagmeyer to herself. I’ve checked with Western Union. Hagmeyer didn’t send her a wire to say he was coming. Jed Cornelius says the bullets are European-made and maybe five years old. On the off chance, I’ve had inquiries made around town if anybody has bought any .30 Luger shells recently. Negative on it.’
‘How about Lars’ witness?’
‘Called her home this morning, Jack. Her son-in-law answered, sounded riled. He says that the family doctor’s been around and doesn’t want the old lady bothering. Allows what she saw was no more than a hallucination. And he reckons he’ll call in the family lawyer if we keep pestering her. Sounded like he meant it.’
‘If you want to see her, Alice, Brad,’ Jack drawled, ‘I’ll come along to do the talking.’
Which was the comment all the deputies had expected to hear. Jack would always be in the forefront, supporting his staff, whether it be against the gun of a desperate killer, or meeting the self-righteous wrath of an indignant taxpayer.
Before Alice could reach any decision, the office door opened. Captain Harry Tierney of the Vice & Gambling Detail strode in. Tall, barrel-bellied, with a florid face that seemed to ooze conviviality and enjoyment of good living, it seemed hard to imagine him as the head of the ‘blue-noses’. Yet he ran the Detail with grim dedication and efficiency. He knew from bitter experience the depths of tragedy and human suffering vice or gambling could cause.
‘I’m sorry to bill in like this, Jack,’ Tierney apologized. ‘But this’s important. I’ve been working on the Cortez kill ever since I heard from Mac about it.’
‘Come ahead,’ Jack offered. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’ve been calling other V. and G. chiefs in the major cities and I’ve come up with a few things. About three weeks back Cortez was hired as bust-out man for Andy Rutland’s steer-mob. Only he crossed Andy and. escaped with a fair piece of the mob’s bank-roll.’
‘That’d give Rutland a double motive for wanting him dead,’ Jack admitted. ‘Revenge and to show other bust-out men that nobody crosses Andy Rutland and gets away with it.’
‘Rutland’s in town,’ Tierney remarked. ‘My own boys just heard it.’
‘But he’d have no motive for killing Tap Morgan, or Hagmeyer,’ Alice protested.
‘They’d make a mighty fine cover for the real reaso
n Cortez was killed,’ Tierney reminded her. ‘You’d be looking for a connection between the three of them—just like you’re doing—instead of figuring it as a specific hit at Cortez.’
‘Would Rutland be smart enough to make a play like that?’ Jack asked, following the captain’s glance to the blackboard.
‘Smart enough and ruthless enough,’ Tierney confirmed. ‘He’s so smart that the law’s never been able to pin anything on him, even when there’s been complaints from victims.’
‘So if we pick him up, he’ll deny everything,’ Jack guessed.
‘Sure. Even the bit about Cortez crossing him’s only an unsupported rumor. The best you could do would be chase him out of town. Which might not be a bad notion if he’s guilty.’
‘I don’t follow you,’ Jack said.
‘One of the things I learned today is that Cortez was Cristobal Peraro’s sister’s only son. It was Peraro who had him trained as a dice mechanic after he was paroled from that 1408, to stop him trying any more robberies. When Peraro hears he’s been chilled, all hell’s due to pop. You know that family. Cut one and all of ’em bleed.’
‘So I’ve heard tell,’ Jack growled, knowing Cristobal Peraro to be one of the most powerful criminals in Mexico.
‘We’ll have to put Rutland somewhere safe until we’ve investigated his story.’
Tick him up and he’ll have a lawyer spring him inside the hour,’ warned Tierney.
‘Unless we can catch him at his game, cheating a sucker,’ Jack pointed out.
‘Gambling Details all over the South-West have tried to do it, and failed,’ Tierney answered. ‘Rutland’s smart. He hand-picks all his victims and has a mighty keen nose for a plant. If he gets just one smell of something not being right, he’ll drop even the most promising mark; and do it in a way that nothing could be proved against him.’
‘We have to do something, and pronto!’ Jack insisted. ‘Peraro’ll be after blood when he hears about Cortez’s death. Even if Rutland’s guilty of all three murders, I’m not going to have my county turned into a battle-ground.’
‘I’m open for suggestions,’ Tierney declared. ‘As luck would have it, I’d heard from San Antonio before we got word that Rutland was in town. So I’ve told my crew not to make it seem we’re more than ordinarily interested in him. If I know him, he’ll stick around.’
‘Running out would be an admission of guilt,’ Jack agreed. ‘Or look that way. Do you know where he’ll try to pick up his suckers?’
‘From the best places in town. Andy doesn’t go for a mark unless he figures it’ll be well worth his while.’
‘Try to find where he’s at tonight, Harry. And we’ll see if we can give him a sucker of our own.’
That won’t be easy, Jack. I wouldn’t like to say how many times different Details have tried to slip him a plant. One thing I can say, none of them managed to do it.’
‘Maybe they didn’t have an officer who’s a millionaire’s son on hand,’ Jack grinned. ‘Brad, I’m ordering you to volunteer for a dangerous assignment.’
‘I always knew being born rich’d be an advantage for me one day,’ Brad drawled. ‘It looks like that day’s come off.’
‘When do we start, sheriff?’ Alice asked. ‘And how do we do it?’
“You two’re a mite well-known to get by Rutland,’ Tierney pointed out. ‘He may have seen your pictures in the papers.’
‘That’s what we had Corey Haynes trained for,’ Jack replied, reaching for his telephone.
‘Aye, and it’s time the lad earned all that extra salary he’s paid,’ McCall continued. ‘Alice, you and Brad had better get down to see him.’
While there were points Alice would have liked to discuss, the urgency of the situation prevented her from doing so. Along with the male peace officers, she appreciated the danger. Descended from a long line of ruthless Mexican bandidos, Peraro had inherited an almost fanatical loyalty to his family. So he would start to hunt down his nephew’s killer. What Tierney could learn would not long remain a secret from Peraro. His methods of satisfying curiosity would be quicker, more direct than anything the law could achieve.
Merely running Rutland out of the county was no answer to the problem. Doing so would only transfer the trouble to some other law enforcement agency’s bailiwick. The sheriff of Rockabye County refused to consider taking such an easy way out. As Jack Tragg saw it, the killing had happened in his county, so he must deal with all its ramifications.
Never a man to shirk his responsibilities, Jack wasted no time in starting to avert the possible trouble. They had only one hope of holding Rutland if they arrested him, to catch him in the act of swindling a victim. No easy matter, yet Jack felt that it could be done. As he had said, there could be few other county or municipal law enforcement organizations with a millionaire’s son on their pay-roll. Brad Counter possessed the background, upbringing and equipment to make a deception possible. Only the fact that he had achieved some fame as a deputy stood in the way—and that might be overcome with Corey Haynes’ specialized assistance.
Swiftly a plan was formulated, with Tierney supplying technical advice. By half past five, it was sufficiently advanced to be workable.
Most of Sergeant Corey Haynes’ watch hours were spent amongst the filing-cabinets of the Records and Information Bureau. However he received an addition to his monthly salary through the skills he had acquired attending a makeup and disguise training course run by the F.B.I. When a situation arose where a member of the local law enforcement agencies needed to avoid recognition, Corey Haynes earned his extra pay. There were limitations to what he could do, as he explained to Alice and Brad on their arrival in his office.
The main thing for you to do is forget all you’ve seen on the Mission Impossible or Man From U.N.C.L.E. shows. No major make-up job will last for more than a few hours without renewal. There are some things, completely altering your face, putting you in drag, that only a trained actor or actress could do. Even then he, or she, wouldn’t come in for the kind of close-quarters scrutiny you’ll be given. I’m just telling you this so you won’t expect to walk out of here with Brad looking like a five foot tall, sixty-year old grandmother and you as a fat, prosperous oil-man, Alice.’
‘Well,’ the girl replied dubiously. ‘That’s just how we wanted to look.’
There’s a limit to how much we can alter your appearance and still be realistic,’ Haynes continued. ‘We can’t do much about lessening your height. The trouble is that you’re so damned distinctive, Brad.’
‘I’ve known that for years,’ Brad said modestly. ‘What can you do for me?’
‘We’ll start by dyeing your hair and eye-lashes. With your skin-pigmentation and blue eyes, I’d say we can’t chance going beyond a rusty red. If we had time to have clothes made up, I could pad your middle out and make you look bulkier. With time this short, we’ll have to just try changing the hair color. If that doesn’t make enough difference, we’ll add a false moustache.’
‘How about me?’ Alice asked.
‘You’ll be easier than Brad,’ the expert assured her. ‘Blonde hair, done in a different style should be enough. I’ve got my wife coming over to tend to that side of it. Which’s good old-fashioned nepotism, taken with the fact that she works at Christophe’s.’
‘I’ve always wanted to have my hair coiffured there,’ Alice smiled. ‘Only I’m not rich enough to meet their prices.’
‘You’re getting it at the tax-payers’ expense,’ Haynes grinned. ‘How about clothes and jewelry?’
‘Mrs. Tragg and I’re the same size,’ Alice explained. ‘She’s loaning me all I’ll need.’
‘Somebody’s worked fast,’ Haynes praised. ‘Let’s get started.’
So the deputies found themselves being worked on by two experts; Haynes and his wife, who was usually employed by the city’s most exclusive hairdressing salon. Alice had been a blonde before, while working undercover for the Narcotics Detail. Then she had handled the bleac
h job herself, for she had been less well-known and the part she played did not require anything expert in the way of a disguise. While Mrs. Haynes worked on her, Alice wondered what Brad would look like as a mustached red-head.
At six thirty they listened to Jack Tragg speaking on the radio. As on other occasions when circumstances caused him to address the public, he did a masterly piece of work. Explaining the difficulties facing the investigating officers, he stressed that everything possible was being done to prevent the killer from striking again.
Every available officer would be patrolling the streets from five until eight in the morning, ready to question everybody they met. Jack asked for the public to co-operate by staying off the streets, or by carrying identification with them and be ready to produce it on request. If anybody received an unexpected visitor between those hours, Jack asked that the police be informed. He also warned the public not to start shooting, or taking other aggressive action, in the event of receiving a caller. That, he hoped, would prevent a frightened citizen from attacking a harmless deliveryman or newspaper-boy. Finally he announced that the three killings were believed to be connected and that anybody who had been in contact with all three men should notify his office. That might lull Rutland’s suspicions, if he was the guilty party. If not, it might dissuade the real killer from making another attempt.
When Jack had finished his speech, many of the county’s residents felt comforted. Much of the uneasy air of tension, stirred up mainly by the Mirror's comments and editorials,, faded away. Having faith in their law enforcement officers, the people sat back to wait and see what the next morning brought for them.
By nine o’clock Alice and Brad were ready to put the plant into operation. In her handbag, Alice carried a small transmitter disguised as a cigarette lighter. Small maybe, but even from inside the bag it gave out a signal powerful enough for the Communications Bureau’s tracking trucks to pick up and locate its point of origin. That would do away with the need for a close-quarters tail on them if Rutland took the bait.
