1944 - Just the Way It Is (20 page)

‘What do you think I am, a kangaroo?’ Duke slapped his naked chest. ‘Still, I’ll get you one.’ He walked over and rang the bell.

‘Let’s have some Scotch too,’ Kells said, yawning. ‘You heard about Bellman?’

‘Yeah,’ Duke said, coming back to his chair. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Bellman.’

‘I guessed you did,’ Kells grinned mirthlessly.

The Negro attendant came in and Duke told him where to find his cigar case. ‘Bring us a bottle of Scotch and a couple of Whiterock and ice. It’s hot in here.’

‘It’s supposed to be,’ Kells said, as the Negro went out.

‘I was forgetting,’ Duke frowned down at the glowing tip of his cigar. ‘Well, who killed Bellman?’

‘It was suicide,’ Kells said. ‘Even the croaker said so.’

‘I know what they said, but between you and me . . . who killed him?’

‘Maybe it was you and the chicken woman.’

‘Chicken woman?’

‘Yeah, the one that came out of an egg.’

‘Oh, yes. Well, it wasn’t. I just found him. You see, I’m being honest with you. I found her in the room and Bellman lying on the floor.’

‘Then she killed him,’ Kells said. He wasn’t taking much interest in the conversation.

The Negro came back with the drinks and cigar. Kells lit the cigar and shut his eyes. ‘Make the whisky a strong one.’

When the Negro had gone away, leaving the drinks close by Duke’s chair, he tried again. ‘How are you fixed, Lew?’

Kells drank half the whisky before replying, ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I can look after myself. Korris will buy the club, I suppose.’

Duke looked surprised. ‘Korris? I shouldn’t have thought he’d have wanted Chez Paree. What makes you think that?’

‘I don’t know that he’ll buy it,’ Kells said. ‘I just say that he might.’

‘Bellman bought Pinder’s End, didn’t he?’ Duke asked, casually.

Kells shot him a hard look, hesitated and then nodded.

‘How far are you in this?’ Duke asked.

‘Far enough,’ Kells returned, looking sly.

‘Well, let me put my cards on the table if you’re going to act coy,’ Duke said, finishing his whisky and mixing himself another. ‘You ain’t the only one interested in Pinder’s End.’

‘I didn’t say I was interested,’ Kells said, guardedly. ‘And who else is there, anyway?’

‘There’s me,’ Duke returned, stretching out his long, muscular legs. ‘Then there’s Spade.’

‘Yeah,’ Kells cleared his throat. ‘Spade.’

‘What do you know about that guy?’ Duke asked, casually.

‘He worries me,’ Kells admitted. ‘I’ve been trying to find out who he is and where he fits in. No one seems to have ever seen him except Korris.’

‘I know all that,’ Duke said, shortly. ‘Now look, Lew, what do you know about Pinder’s End? If you want to play, we’ll pool. If you want to do this on your own, okay, we’ll forget it.’

Kells groped round for his glass. ‘You ain’t finished all that whisky?’ he asked.

Duke handed it over. He knew Kells was trying to make up his mind. He wasn’t going to hurry him.

‘You know Schultz is in this too?’ he said, abruptly.

Kells slopped the whisky, steadied his hand and went on pouring. ‘Schultz?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Schultz ain’t much,’ Kells said, as if trying to convince himself. ‘I wouldn’t worry about him.’

‘Schultz works for Spade,’ Duke announced, closing his eyes and giving way to the insidious heat that soaked into his tired muscles.

‘I see. So if you and me. . .’

‘That’s the idea. You and me against Schultz and Spade. On our side we’ve got Casy . . . do you know Casy?’

‘No.’

‘Casy owns the big house at Pinder’s End. He’s got three Tommy guns and a lot of other lethal stuff up there with orders from me to keep everyone out. . . except me.’

Kells twisted in his chair and gaped at Duke. ‘That’s smart!’ he said. ‘So you’ve got the place sewn up?’

‘Yes. But let me go on. I was talking about our side,’ Duke said, his eyes still closed. ‘We’ve got Pete Cullen, we’ve got the whole of the staff of the Clarion and we might have the chicken woman and her boyfriend Joe. They’re ready to double-cross

Schultz. On the other side there is Korris, Schultz and, of course, Spade. I like the look of my side, Lew.’

Kells fidgeted with his bare feet. ‘Yeah, it looks all right.’

‘It’s the carve-up that’s worrying you.’ Duke opened one eye and regarded him. ‘Ain’t there enough in it for us all?’

Kells hesitated. ‘I reckon it’s worth five hundred grand,’ he said, at last.

Duke pursed his lips. ‘Quite a nice slice,’ he said, and fell silent.

‘That’s what Bellman said,’ Kells went on hastily. ‘Maybe he was lying. You remember Frank Noakes?’

Duke said, ‘Frank Noakes? The bank bandit?’

Kells nodded. ‘That’s the fella. Just before the Feds knocked him off he passed through Fairview. This was some twelve years ago. He stayed at Pinder’s End in Casy’s house. Then he was smoked out and went on the run again. Bellman says he left the whole of his loot in that house. The cops reckoned that it was worth five hundred grand.’

Duke thought for a few minutes. ‘So that’s the story, is it?’ he said. ‘That’s the mystery of Pinder’s End. Almost like the movies, ain’t it?’ He tossed the butt of his cigar neatly into a spittoon across the room. ‘How did Bellman hear about this?’

‘He got it from a guy who worked with Noakes. Deafy something or other, I forget his name. Deafy wanted Bellman to help him get the stuff. He had a map just where it was planted, but he was scared to go up to Pinder’s End on his own. He was coked to the ears and hadn’t the nerve even to cross a road. Bellman got rid of him.’ Kells shook his head. ‘I didn’t like that part of it. There’d’ve been enough for Deafy. Anyway, Bellman didn’t want to be bothered with him, so he got rid of him.’

Duke grunted. ‘Nice guy,’ he said, reflectively. ‘And then he got Timson to buy the place?’

‘That’s right. Whoever killed Timson stole the title deeds. That put Bellman in a jam. Without the title deeds he couldn’t take Pinder’s End over. He didn’t like to make too much fuss in case Spade got wise. Well, Spade, was wise all the time.’

‘Do you think Spade killed Timson?’

‘He might have done or one of his boys.’

‘That means that Spade’s got the title deeds?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter. He can’t get in that place without coming into the open and then we can ask him how he got hold of the deeds. So that’s tied him up,’ Duke said. ‘If he tries to bust into Pinder’s End, he’ll get an almighty reception.’

‘All we’ve got to do now,’ Kells said, scratching the sole of his foot, ‘is to go out to Pinder’s End tomorrow and take the joint to pieces. When we’ve found the dough, we can laugh at Spade.’

‘You like the set up?’ Duke said.

‘It’s a cinch,’ Kells returned. ‘You can count me in.’

‘You say there’s a plan where the stuff’s hidden. Who’s got that, do you think?’

‘We don’t have to bother with that,’ Kells returned. ‘Who’s got it? The guy who knocked off Bellman, I should think.’

‘Maybe the dough isn’t in Casy’s house. It might be in the garden or in one of the other bungalows.’

‘So what? We’ve got a lot of time, haven’t we? If we don’t find it in Casy’s well look someplace else. I don’t mind working for five hundred grand.’

‘Okay.’ Duke got up, tucked the end of his towel in at his waist and padded across the room to where a telephone stood on a table.

He dialled Clare’s number and sat listening to the crackling on the line. After a while the operator told him there was no reply.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was a little after two o’clock.

Kells watched him sleepily. ‘Don’t you ever rest?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong now?’

‘Go to sleep,’ Duke said, shortly. ‘You’ve got some hard work to do tomorrow.’

Kells grunted and made himself comfortable. He seemed to fall asleep the moment he closed his eyes.

Duke rang Peter’s apartment. There was no answer, and rather savagely, he slammed down the receiver.

It was no good going on like this, he decided. He’d have to leave things until the next day. There was a lot of things to do. The most important was to find Clare.

The heat in the room oppressed him and he slid into his dressing gown and walked into the next room. It was cooler in there.

Before going to sleep he had a cold shower. It didn’t help the feeling of acute depression that settled over him, but it cleared his head and lying on the narrow, comfortable bunk, he thought about Pinder’s End.

He saw things that he hadn’t seen before. The initials carved on the mantelpiece for instance, F.N. He understood why the unknown someone had been hiding upstairs. Five hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money. He wondered vaguely what was going to happen to the money when they found it. Two guys had got themselves killed through it already. It wouldn’t surprise him if several more went the same way before this business was over. Just before he fell asleep, he hoped sincerely that he wouldn’t be one of them.

TWENTY-ONE

T
od Korris opened his eyes and sat up in his bed with a jerk.

The telephone was ringing insistently at his elbow and as he reached out. he glanced at his watch. It was half past three a.m.

‘What is it?’ he snarled into the receiver.

‘Korris?’ He recognized the harsh voice at the other end of the line and his brain instantly became awake.

‘Yes, Mr. Spade,’ he said.

‘Did you see Hallahan?’

‘That’s all fixed,’ Korris said, inwardly cursing Spade for ringing at this time in the morning. ‘I gave him the money and he’s playing.’

‘Good.’ Spade was silent for a minute and Korris, thinking the connection had been cut, said, ‘Hello? You still there, Mr. Spade?’

‘Leave my name, out of it,’ Spade said, sharply. ‘We can’t fool around any longer, Korris. We’ve got to get moving.’

‘First thing tomorrow,’ Korris said, sinking back into the pillows and propping the telephone receiver against his ear.

‘I’ve got a job to do,’ Spade said, softly. ‘That’s why I’m ringing you now. Listen, get the mob together. We’re going out to take Casy’s house over. About a half a dozen men’ll do. Give ‘em guns and some ammunition. Casy’s got a gun from Duke. There may be a little trouble, but I don’t think so. I want you over there first thing tomorrow. When you’ve fixed Casy and the other guys, go through the house brick by brick. Do you understand?’

Korris nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’ll do that. Will you be there?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe I’ll come out. I’ll see.’

‘Have you seen Schultz?’ Korris asked, remembering.

Spade drew in a little hiss of breath. ‘No,’ he said.

‘What do you think?’

‘Yes,’ Spade said. ‘He’s double-crossing us. I’m going to have a little talk with him now.’

Korris grinned. ‘Do you want me to come along?’

‘I can manage Schultz,’ Spade returned. He sounded as if he meant it. ‘Have you seen anything of his girl and the boy?’

‘Not today.’

‘They’ve disappeared. Looks as if Schultz’s ready to clear out fast. He’s got the map, of course.’

‘Must have. I wish I’d fixed Bellman now, instead of sending him. I always thought we could trust Schultz.’

‘You can’t trust anyone,’ Spade returned. ‘I’ll give you a ring if I want you. You know what you’ve got to do, get to Casy’s as soon as you’ve rounded up the mob.’

‘Okay,’ Korris said, and the connection went dead.

Korris put the receiver on its cradle and shut his eyes.

So Spade was after Schultz. In a way, Korris wished he could be there. Schultz would be rather amusing to kill. He played with the idea of ringing Schultz and warning him, just to make his last hours more complicated. He knew that Schultz was caught He was like a monkey with his paw in a bottle. He would never leave Fairview without Frank Noakes’s nest egg.

Korris hesitated with his hand on the telephone. Then he decided he couldn’t be bothered. There was too much to do in the morning. He’d better get some sleep while he could.

He reached for the light and switched it out. He went to sleep after a while and dreamed that Schultz was kneeling at the foot of his bed. He seemed quite happy, smiling in his fat, oily way, but when Korris looked closer, Schultz had a big wound in his throat

The dream, however, did not disturb Korris. In fact, he slept all the better for it.

TWENTY-TWO

S
chultz drove back to his house and put his car in the garage. He stood for a moment looking up and down the dark, deserted street, then moving quickly up the path, he let himself into the house.

He went immediately upstairs without turning on the lights. The house was silent and a little oppressive, he thought as he reached his bedroom. It was a pity about Lorelli. He would liked to have taken her with him. But, it was no good. If he couldn’t trust her, he would never be at ease. He was getting too old anyway to have a young girl like Lorelli to worry about.

He turned on the electric light and looked round the small bedroom. It was neat and orderly. The door to Lorelli’s room stood open and he half expected to hear her call out in her mocking voice. ‘Is that you, Maestro?’

He walked to the door and fumbled for the switch. Turning on the light he looked round the room The bed had not been made and Lorelli’s silk pyjamas lay on the armchair. Powder was scattered on the dressing table and on the mirror. There was her unescapable scent in the room and he shook his head a little sadly. He was going to miss Lorelli. In a way, of course, he was going to miss Joe. The boy was useful. But, if he could get his hands on the money at Casy’s, he wouldn’t have to worry about Joe. He could go somewhere quiet, and settle down in his own little house with his own land and rear orchids to his heart’s delight But, he had got to get the money first.

He went over to Lorelli’s dressing table and pulled out the drawers. In various little corners he found the small collection of jewellery he had given her in the past The sum total could not have been worth more than a few hundred dollars, but he was leaving nothing of value.