(1941) Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

by James Hadley Chase

  On the top floor he found Benny seated at a table scribbling away at a furious pace. A large stack of addressed envelopes lay on the table and bundles of other envelopes lay around the room. Benny looked a complete wreck. He hadn't shaved for several days, and his eyes were heavy and glazed. A strong smell of stale whisky came from him as he lurched to his feet, nearly overturning the table.

  He said, “For God's sake,” and shook hands eagerly. “I've given you up. Sit down, buddy, an' have a drink.”

  Jay looked round the grimy room. One glance was enough to tell him that Perminger was up against it. He refused the drink, but lit a cigarette. Benny poured himself a long shot of neat spirit. He held the unlabelled bottle to the light and scowled. “Hell! Someone's been stealing this stuff.” He said angrily, “There was half a bottle here last night.”

  Jay said, “Forget it. I want to talk to you. What's all this business?” He waved his hand around the room.

  Benny shrugged. “I gotta live,” he said. “It's a lousy job, but it pays for this.” He tapped the bottle and winked.

  Jay got up and wandered to the window. “You didn't turn up anything when I was away?” he said over his shoulder.

  “Listen, I ain't interested any more.” Benny's voice was sullen.

  “Lost your guts?” Jay said.

  “Yeah, so would you.”

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  “Well, come on, let's have it. Have you found out anything about your wife?”

  Benny poured himself out another drink. “I haven't got a wife,” he said.

  Jay lost patience with him. He came back to the table. “Listen. Don't be a heel. Your wife disappeared, didn't she? She's probably working for this Slave racket right now. I'm going to find her, and you're going to help me.”

  Benny's face was white and his eyes looked wild. “No, you're not,” he said, speaking through clenched teeth. “She wasn't slaved. I've seen her. It was a trick. She's livin' with some guy at the St. Louis Hotel. I even spoke to her, but she cut me dead. Wouldn't even look at me.”

  Jay stiffened to attention. “You're sure of this?” he demanded.

  “Think I'd make a thing like that up?” Benny said, looking at him with hurt, angry eyes. “Of course I'm sure. She's livin' with that guy in luxury. That's what she's always wanted. She was always bellyachin' about doin' the washin' and lookin' after the apartment. Now she's got what she wants. The dirty little chippy.”

  “You may be misjudging her, Perminger,” Jay reminded him. “She might have to be there.”

  Benny sneered. “Don't talk bull. I tell you I spoke to her. She just looked through me. She could have got away if she wanted to. She was by herself. I followed her to the hotel. I found out from the porter all about them. The guy's name's Cruise. She's posin' as his wife.”

  Jay sat down limply. He felt the ground had been cut from under him. “Who is this guy Cruise?” he asked.

  Benny shrugged. “I don't know, an' I don't care. I ain't goin' to start anythin' with him. If that's the life she likes, she can have it. I'm through with her.”

  Jay got slowly to his feet. He felt that it was only wasting time. He said, “Well, I'm sorry, Perminger. It's tough,” and shook hands.

  Out in the street he paused before getting into his car. On the face of it it looked as if the whole of the business had fallen to pieces. The only thing he had to go on was Fletcher's testimony, and Fletcher was dead.

  He got in the car and engaged the gears.

  Who was this Cruise? Had he anything to do with Grantham? Could it be possible that Perminger's wife had really gone off with him and had made up the note about going to police headquarters? It didn't seem likely. There was something wrong there. He made up his mind abruptly to take a look at Cruise. If he looked all right, then he'd try some other angle, but if he didn't, then he'd keep a watch on him.

  He drove over to the St. Louis Hotel and parked. He knew the house dick and went straight to his little office.

  The house dick was resting his feet and reading the newspaper. He glanced up as Jay came in.

  “Hyah, Harris,” Jay said, shaking hands. “How you makin' out?”

  Harris was a little plump guy, who lived in a bowler hat. He shook hands suspiciously. “Well, what is it this time?” he said. “I haven't been bothered by you for months.”

  Jay grinned at him. “I've been covering the Tammany Hall trial. Too bad that guy got off.”

  Harris grunted. “They'll get him the next time, you see,” he said. “Now what do you want? I'm busy.”

  “All right, all right, keep your shirt on.” Jay grinned at him. “Can you give me a line on a guy named Cruise who hangs out here?”

  Harris's little eyes opened. “Aaah!” he said. “Now, I was wonderin' when you boys were goin' to get on to him. What makes you ask?”

  Jay shrugged. “Curiosity. I've never seen the guy, but I've heard about him.”

  Harris wasn't to be drawn. “What have you heard?” he asked, looking cunning.

  Jay knew there was only one short cut to getting anything out of Harris. Reluctantly he took out his roll and thumbed off ten bucks. He dangled the notes in front of Harris's nose. “No questions,” he said.

  Harris grinned and grabbed the notes. He tucked them in his vest pocket. “Well,” he said, “I don't like him.

  I don't like the mob he has up in his suite. I don't like the dame who lives with him.”

  Jay waited patiently.

  “For one thing,” Harris went on, “no respectable guy associates with the kind of hoods that go up there.

  I've had my eye on him ever since he moved in. He's a mean−lookin' guy himself. I'll swear the dame ain't his wife. She acts sortta strange. She's scared of him. Three punks see him every day. They drive up in the staff elevator. You ought to see the way one of them dresses. Still, they pay all right and we've got nothing against 77

  Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

  them, but I'm watching 'em.”

  This sounded promising to Jay. He said, “Can I get a room on their floor, Harris?”

  “Like that, is it?” Harris looked interested. “Yeah, I guess that could be arranged. Shall I fix it?”

  Jay nodded. “Another thing. Maybe this guy's got a record. Suppose you get his prints?”

  Harris sneered. “Talk sense. I can't do a thing like that.”

  Jay took out his silver cigarette−case. “Take this up to him. Push it into his hands. Tell him you found it outside his apartment and you think it's his. Then bring it back and let me have it. I'll take it to the F.B.I. for a test.”

  Harris gaped at him. “Jeeze,” he exclaimed, “that's smart!”

  He took the case from Jay and got up. “I'll see him right away. You wait here.”

  He came back again after some time, his fat face beaming. “That's a laugh,” he declared. “You've lost your case. He took it all right, said it was his, gave me a buck for my trouble and shut the door in my face.”

  Jay sat back limply. “Goddam it,” he said with a weak grin, “that shows he's a crook.”

  Harris nodded. “I've fixed a room for you,” he said, “you can move up whenever you like.”

  Jay got to his feet. “I'm on my way,” he said, and left Harris still grinning.

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  9

  September 8th, 4.30 p.m.

  LU ELLER walked casually down the corridor leading to Raven's suite. He knew Raven was out. He had seen him leave not five minutes ago. He'd been waiting for him to go for a long time. Even now he'd got to be careful. Someone else beside Sadie might be in the suite.

  He listened outside the door for several minutes, but couldn't hear anything. Then he knocked softly.

  Sadie came to the door. When she saw him she started back, trying to close the door, but Lu'd got his foot in the way. “Raven in?” he asked pleasantly, tipping his hat.

  She shook her head.
“Nogo away. No one's in.”

  That's what Lu wanted to hear. He smiled. “He said I was to wait. He won't be long.”

  Sadie was terrified of him. “You can't come in,” she said; “wait downstairs.”

  Lu had heard tales about Raven and Sadie. “He said I was to wait here,” he told her firmly. “You don't want him to get mad with you?”

  She dropped her hand from the door and stepped back. Lu looked hastily up and down the corridor and then came in. He shut the door.

  Sadie backed away from him, and then almost ran into her bedroom.

  Grantham had been very plain. “She's got to go, Lu,” he had said. “We can't use her against Raven any more. He's doin' well, an' any time she might spill it. Raven would rumble it at once. No, she's got to go.”

  Lu eased his fingers a little. He'd got to work fast. Raven might change his mind and come back any moment. Lu was a little nervous. She wasn't small and she might be stronger than he could manage. There was no question of shooting. His hand groped round to his hip pocket and he drew a short heavy−bladed knife from its sheath. He slipped the blade up his cuff, holding the handle hidden in his palm.

  He went over to the bedroom door and rapped.

  She said with a little catch in her voice, “What do you want?”

  Softly he turned the handle and looked in. “Can you fix me a drink, lady?”

  “Get out of here!” Sadie was frightened of him.

  “Aw, come on, lady, Raven said for you to make me at home.” Lu smiled at her. He edged his way further into the room.

  “Get out, or I'll scream,” Sadie said, retreating to the other side of the room.

  “What's bitin' you, lady?” Lu asked, moving forward very slowly. “I just want a drink. Ain't anythin' in that.”

  He was halfway across the room by now. Sadie saw the cold, merciless gleam in his eyes and she screamed. Lu swore softly and jumped forward. The blade gleamed as it swung towards her. She dodged desperately, thudded against the wall and fell.

  Lu grunted and stabbed down at her. She rolled away, the knife cutting through her sleeve and making a long scratch on her arm. She screamed again.

  Lunging again, Lu nearly had her this time, but with unsuspected speed she again dodged him, and ran past him into the outer room.

  Lu was getting into a panic. She'd have all the hotel up in a minute. He went after her. She was just opening the front door to get into the corridor. He didn't hesitate. His arm flashed up and the knife hissed through the air. Sadie heard the sound and flung herself sideways. The knife buried itself in the fleshy part of her arm. She fell on her knees with a faint cry of pain.

  As Lu ran towards her a thunder−bolt struck him. Jay, hearing the uproar, had come to investigate. He saw Sadie lying on the floor and Lu coming at her, his face livid with fury and panic, and Jay launched himself full tilt at him.

  The two men went down in a heap. Lu brought his knees up and tossed Jay away. Both of them scrambled to their feet. Lu's hand flew to his gun, but Jay was already on him again and they went down in a mass of flaying arms and legs. Jay brought over his right and hit Lu hard on his cheek−bone. Lu's hands got a grip on Jay's throat and they rolled over and over across the corridor.

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  Jay got hold of Lu's wrists and tried to break his hold, but Lu was too strong for him. Already the pressure on his windpipe was beginning to tell. His head seemed to be expanding like an inflated toy balloon. He drove his fist into Lu's face. The grip loosened as Lu grunted with the unexpected pain. Jay hit him again and wriggled clear. Lu recognized him then. In that split second of recognition Lu realized that this guy must not escape. Grantham had given instructions to shoot at sight. Now he was here, right in the middle of everything.

  He groped for his gun, swearing because it had caught in the lining of his pocket. He jerked feverishly on the handle.

  Jay came at him again, his fists hit Lu on the side of his head and face, smashing him to the floor. The gun came away from his pocket.

  “No, you don't,” Jay panted, stamping on Lu's wrist. The gun dropped on the thick carpet, and Jay kicked it away.

  Lu dived after the gun, stooped to grab it, and got a paralysing kick that sent him hurtling down the corridor. He picked himself up and ran. Jay chased him to the end of the corridor, but Lu beat him to it. He fell down the first flight of stairs, and then, picking himself up, he beat it as if hell were at his heels.

  Jay dusted himself down and went back to Sadie, who was half sitting up watching with fascinated eyes the steady flow of blood from her arm.

  Jay picked her up. “Take it easy, sister,” he said, “I'll get you out of here.”

  He carried her into his room and kicked the door closed. When he put her on the bed he ran back and turned the key in the lock. Then he went into the bathroom, grabbed a couple of small hand−towels, and stopped the bleeding.

  She went very white when he took the knife out, but she didn't faint.

  He said, “That's fine. I'll get you a drink. Just lie quiet.”

  He rang down to Harris. “Listen, bud, I've had a little trouble on up my floor,” he said, when Harris came on to the line. “Will you come on up and keep an eye on me?”

  Harris said, “What sort of trouble?”

  “Now don't start askin' questions, come up an' bring a rod.” He hung up with a grim little smile.

  He fixed Sadie a drink from the small flask he always carried around with him, and then went out into the corridor to meet Harris.

  Harris came up at a rim. His big face was alight with excitement. “What is it?” he asked.

  “If this guy Cruise shows up I want you to tell him that some hood tried to stab his wife. Tell him the cops took both of them down to the station. For God's sake don't let him know I've got her in this room.”

  “I can't do that,” Harris exploded; “it'll cost me my job.”

  “Do it,” Jay said shortly; “this guy won't go near the cops, I'm sure of that. If he gets an idea that I've got her here he's goin' to get very tough. If you do this I'll give you twenty bucks.”

  Harris's eyes brightened. “Let's have it,” he said quickly.

  Jay gave him the money. “Look, go into his apartment and get that cigarette−case of mine. Snap into it.”

  Harris returned in a few minutes, holding the case. “Here it is. Now what?”

  “Just hang around the corridor until he comes back. You'd better make a good show or else that guy will do things to you.” Jay left him and went back to Sadie. She was lying on the bed. Although she was still very white, she looked stronger.

  Jay locked the door and came over to her. “I'm Jay Ellinger, late of the St. Louis Banner,” he said. “You're Mrs. Perminger, ain't you?”

  Sadie sat up, once more terrified. “Nono! You've made a mistake. I'm Mrs. Cruise,” she said.

  Jay sat down on the bed. He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered her one. “Go on,” he said, when she refused. “It'll steady you.”

  She took it nervously, looking at him all the time. Sitting close to her, he could see the ravishes of time and horror stamped on her face. He could see the hard lines, the frightened eyes, and he knew that she'd been through some terrible experiences.

  When he had lighted the cigarettes he said, “This is your chance to get out of this mess. I know you're Mrs.

  Perminger. I was talkin' to your husband a while ago.”

  Sadie looked at him, and then her face crumpled. She hastily put up her hands and began to cry.

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  Jay said, “Take it easy. You're safe now. Tell me. It's true, isn't it?”

  She nodded without speaking.

  “Now listen, Mrs. Perminger. It's goin' to be all right. You've got to take me into your confidence. I can guess something of what happened to you but I want the full story. You saw the guy who killed Mendetta, didn't you?”


  She sat up, terrified. “Who told you?” she gasped.

  “I guessed that's how they tricked you to leave your apartment, wasn't it? That would explain the note you left.”

  Sadie nodded. “I saw him coming out of the room. Then a policeman came and made me go away with that man you were fighting with. They took me to a house and kept me there. There was a negress who beat me. I tried and tried to stick it out, but I couldn't. She beat me every hour of the day. I had to give in.” She sat up and beat her knees with her fists. Her face was twisted with fear and rage. “Do you understand? I wouldn't do what she wanted me to do. So she kept on and on and on. Every day they tied me to the bed. There was a nigger who stripped me... Do you understand that? She let him put his filthy hands on me. He stood and laughed at me when she beat me. I tried... but I couldn't stand it any more.” She sobbed again. “What was I to do? There are other girls, decent girls like me. They were brought to the house and men were sent into their rooms. I can still hear their screams. Beasts of men used to pay moneylots of moneyto assault them. They liked them to fight and screamthey paid more and more money if they really fought. It was horrible.”

  Jay tapped off the ash from his cigarette. This made him feel bad.

  “Then this man Cruise came one day. He inspected all the girls. He took them all away. I don't know what happened to them. He treated them as if they were cattle. He took me. He brought me here. I was to be his slave. Well, I was crazy. I refused. I told him to get out. So what do you think he did?” Her sobbing was so violent he could hardly hear what she was saying. “He tied me to the bed and hehe poured turpentine over me.

  Do you know what that means? He left me lying there all night. I was gagged. I couldn't move, and it burnt....

  Oh. God! How it burnt!”

  Jay thought: “Here it is. Right with the lid off. This is the stuff that I want. I can start somethin' now.” He said to her, “Grantham? Does he come into this?”

  She nodded miserably. “He works for Cruise,” she gasped. “He comes here and they talk. I've heard things.

  They got houses all over the town. They get girls from Denver, from Springfieldseverywhere. Don't you understand? They're good girls. They take them from their homes and they make them do this work. Oh, you must stop it! You must stop it!”