I'll Get You For This (14 page)

  "Well, get on with it," he said angrily.

  Bat tossed me the gun. It was a blue Colt -45. It balanced sweetly in my hand.

  "How's that, bub?" he asked, grinning at me.

  "Swell," I said, and stuck the gun in the waist-band of my trousers.

  "Okay," Bat said, squaring up. "You ready?"

  "Don't rush it," I said. "Like to make a bet on it?"

  "Haw! Haw!" Bat doubled up with laughter. "You'll kill me, bub. How you gonna pay after I creased you?"

  "Cut this out," Flaggerty stormed. "Get on with it. Kill the punk."

  "Yeah," Bat said suddenly scowling. "Well, bub, this is curtains for you." He crouched, shuffled his feet in the sand. I patched him, but even though he knew my gun was empty, he still hesitated.

  "I'll give you time to go for your gun, Bat," I said, smiling at him. "A guy always has the drop on me before I kill him."

  He snarled at me. "Only this time, I'll do the killing," he rasped.

  Then he went for his gun.

  If he hadn't loosened his holster, he'd have got me. But his gun stuck for just a fraction of a second, and it gave me time to yank out the Colt. I had it out by the time his hand was tugging at his gun butt.

  "Beat you," I said, and flung the Colt in his face. I put everything I had into that throw. The Colt whizzed through the air, hit him a hell of a belt between the eyes. He went over backwards with a startled curse.

  I jumped him, grabbed his gun, twisted away as Flaggerty threw himself at me. I kicked Flaggerty in the face, turned and hit Bat behind his ear with the Colt as he floundered to his knees.

  Both of them stretched out flat in the sand, their arms flung wide and their faces turned to the morning sky.

  That's the way I left them.

  Strong sunlight was trying to force its way through the wooden shutter as I woke to find Hetty Duval standing over me. I sat up in the bed, blinked at her.

  "I guess I must have slept," I said, running my fingers though my hair, exploring the lump on my head tenderly.

  "I've brought you some coffee," she said. "Davis is waiting to see you. Shall I send him up?"

  "Sure," I said, sniffing at the tray she had put on the bamboo table at my side. "What time is it?"

"Twelve," she said, and went out of the room.

I yawned, poured coffee, reached for a cigarette. I was lighting it when Davis lumbered in.

"Hi," I said, grinning at him.

"For crying out loud!" he said, staring at me. "I didn't expect to see you again."

"Nor did I," I said, waving him to the only chair in the little room. "Got any whisky on you?"

He produced a half-pint bottle from his hip pocket and handed it over.

  "I was sure worried," he said, sitting down and mopping his face. "I'm getting cast-iron arteries through you."

  I poured a couple of inches of the Scotch into my coffee and gave him back the bottle. He took a swig, sighed, shoved the bottle back into his pocket.

  "Well, come on," he said impatiently. "Give. You ought to be dead."

  I told him.

  "I'll be damned for a Red Indian," he exclaimed when I was through.

  "What happened to you?" I asked.

  He puffed out his cheeks. "Brother, I thought it was all up with me. It certainly did me no good when Flaggerty blew in."

  I laughed. "I saw you," I said. "You looked like a fugitive from a nightmare."

  "You telling me," Davis said, shaking his head. "What a moment Flaggerty and Sansotta got together, and Sansotta mentioned you. He said I'd brought in a guy who was a stranger to him. Flaggerty was on me like lightning. He wanted to know where I'd picked you up. I acted like I thought he was crazy, and told him I'd found you in a bar, and that you wanted a poker game. I swore that was all there was to it, and I had no idea who you were, and it was phoney enough to sound true. Flaggerty wanted to know what you looked like, and Sansotta supplied a detailed description. That tore it. 'It's Cain!' Flaggerty bawled, and you should see the way the crowd gaped. I acted surprised, but I needn't have bothered. They'd forgotten about me, and they made a dive for the stairs. I drifted. There seemed no sense in hanging around. I wrote you off as a funeral debt."

"Are you in the clear with them?"

  He nodded. "Yeah, it looks all right. I've talked with Flaggerty this morning. He was half out of his mind with rage because you got away, and as for Bat —–" He broke off to whistle.

  "Why did you see Flaggerty?"

  "They've pinned Giles' murder on you," Davis said, taking out his comb and running it through his hair. "I've just written a piece about you. Like to see it?"

  I shook my head. "Any news of Brodey?"

  "Only that he's missing. They hint you're at the bottom of it."

  I lolled back on the pillow. "We've got to get organized," I said thoughtfully. "These boys are good, but there's one way to lick them."

  "Yeah? What's that?"

  "Play one against the other," I said. "It'll need a little thought and planning, but it can be done. I won't be out of this jam until I've cleaned up the whole mob and that includes Killeano, Speratza, Flaggerty and Bat. If I can get them out of the way for good, I guess their organization will fold."

  "I guess it will," Davis said, scratching his nose. "How are you going to do it?"

  "I'll find a way," I said.

  "What do you want me to do?" he asked, after a pause.

  "You still with me?"

  He grinned. "Sure," he said. "Keep me under cover if you can, but if you can't, the hell with it. I'll stick whichever way it jumps. I like your style."

  "Swell," I said, and meant it. "I hit the dud currency angle right on the nose," I went on. "I could tell by the way Killeano flinched that I'd guessed right. We've got to get hold of some of those notes, and we've got to find out where he makes them. A forgery plant isn't easy to hide.

Can you take care of that angle?"

He nodded. "I'll try."

  "Then there's Brodey. I'm thinking about the little girl. We promised to find the old guy. Maybe you'd try to get a line on him."

  "I reckon he's dead," Davis said.

  "I guess so too. They wouldn't let him loose if he knows anything. Anyway, see what you can find out."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to see Tim."

  "Where's he got to?"

  "He's looking after the Wonderly girl."

  Davis grinned. "Well, I'll be damned. I ought to have thought of that. You watch that girl. Flaggerty wants her bad."

  "He won't get her," I said grimly. "Now beat it, and see what you can dig up."

  When he had gone, I dressed and went downstairs.

  Hetty Duval was scrubbing the kitchen floor. She looked over her broad shoulder at me, paused.

  "I'm going to see Tim," I said. "Any message?"

  "Tell him to come home when he can. I kind of miss him," she said, and blushed like a schoolgirl.

  "I'll tell him," I said, and peered out of the window.

  Tim's boat rode at anchor. No one seemed around.

  "Like to go out and see if it's all clear?" I asked.

She went. After a few minutes, she returned. "It's all right "I she said.

  I thanked her and walked down to the boat. I went hell for leather towards the islands. I suddenly wanted to see Miss Wonderly again. I was surprised how much I wanted to see her.

  Three-quarters of the way across, I spotted a rowing boat. The guy who was pulling the oars acted like he was in a hurry. He waved to me, and then went on pulling.

  I swung the boat off course and headed towards him.

  It was Tim. His face was running with sweat and the look in his eyes turned me cold.

  He tried to speak, but he was so breathless he couldn't: it. He raised his fists and shook them at the sky.

  I hauled him on to the boat, grabbed him by the shoulder.

  I knew what he was going to say.

  He said it. "They've got her!"

Chapter Four

CYCLONE SHOT

  THERE were a half a dozen Bobby-soxers sitting up on stools at | the drug-store counter when I came in. They didn't pay any; attention to me. They were too busy telling each other how much they loved Frank Sinatra. I didn't pay any attention to them. I had too much on my mind.

  I shut myself in a telephone booth, called Killeano's private residence. They told me he was at the City Hall, and gave roe the number. I dropped in another nickel and put through a call to the City Hall.

  A girl wanted to know who was calling.

  "He'll tell you if he wants you to know," I said. "Put me through and step on it."

  There was a delay, then Killeano's oily voice came over the wire.

  "This is Cain," I said, speaking rapidly. "Turn that Wonderly girl loose right away, or I'll start something in this town that'll go down in its historical records. I'm not bluffing. I've taken all I'm going to take from you and your small-time outfit. Now I mean business."

  "You do, eh?" Killeano snarled. "Well, so do I. Wonderly's confessed to the Herrick killing and she's signed a statement implicating you. How do you like that? We've got an open and shut case, and by God, I'm coming after you. I've given orders you're to be brought in dead or alive . . ."

  "Okay, Killeano," I said. "From now on, it's gloves off. I'll get you for this. Make no mistake about it, and no one'll stop me."

  I slammed down the receiver, joined Tim Duval, who was waiting outside in the Mercury convertible.

  "She's in jail," I said, getting in beside him and slamming the door. "He says she's confessed."

  He gave me an uneasy glance. "What are you going to do?" he asked, engaging gear.

  "We'll go back to your place. We've got to make plans," I said, lighting a cigarette and trying to control my trembling hands. I was cold with rage. "I'll get her out of there. I don't care how tough it is. I'll get her out."

  "You'll never do it," Tim said. "They'll guess that's what you'll try to do, and they'll be ready for you."

  "You don't think I'm going to leave that kid in their hands, do you?" I said, glaring at him. "I've got to get her out."

  He nodded. "I can see that," he said, "but I don't figure how you're going to do it."

  I snapped my fingers. "Know a good lawyer?"

  "Jed would know."

  "She's got to be represented. They can't keep a lawyer out. I'll call Jed when we get back. Step on it for God's sake."

  I put a call through to Davis as soon as I reached Tim's place. Tim and Hetty hung around waiting.

  Davis came on the line.

  "They've got her," I told him. "They were tipped off by one of the rats who helped provision the boat. There's a reward for her and he sold her out. They worked on her, and she's signed a statement. I want a lawyer to represent her. Can you fix it."

  "Sure," Davis said. "Coppinger will handle it. He hasn't any time for Killeano. I'll get after him. Where is she?"

  "In the jail. And listen, money's no object. Tell this guy to get down there right away. Then when you've fixed him come over here fast. I want to talk to you."

  "I'll be along," he said, and hung up.

  I dropped the receiver on its hook and pushed back my chair.

  Tim was eyeing me. "Can he do it?"

  I nodded. "He's coming over as soon as he's fixed the mouthpiece," I said, and walked to the window.

  I didn't know what the hell was the matter with me. I'd never felt like this before. I was cold; my muscles flicked the way a horse flicks its muscles to get rid of flies. My mouth was dry and I felt sick. I wanted to go down to the jail and start shooting. I didn't care what happened to me so long as I could kill some of those rats who'd got that kid in their hands.

  "Give me a drink," I said, without looking round.

  Tim gave me a whisky.

  I faced him. "You better keep out of this," I said abruptly. "I'm going to start a massacre in this town if I don't get her out. It's Killeano or me, and I'm stopping at nothing."

  "Sit down," Tim said quietly.

  "To hell with that!" I said. "I didn't realize what she meant to me until they grabbed her. I'm going to take the lid off now, and anyone who gets in my way will get hurt."

  "Take it easy," Tim said, pushing me into a chair. "I know how you feel, but it won't get you anywhere to jump off the deep end. There's only one way to tackle this. You've got to use your head. If you get wild and jump in with both feet, you'll be playing into Killeano's hands."

  I drew a deep breath, tried to grin. "You're right, Tim," I said. "I'm mad right now, but as you say, there's no sense Bi rushing into trouble. Somehow we've got to get her out and quick. But it needs planning. I guess I'll go look that jail over."

  "You'd better wait for Jed," Tim advised. "He knows the jail. You can't afford to be picked up."

  "Right again," I said. "We'll wait for Jed."

  We had to wait a couple of hours. They were the longest hours I've ever lived through, and I wouldn't like to live through them again.

  Davis came around three o'clock. The afternoon sun sizzingly hot and he was sweating. He stood in the doorway and looked at us.

  "I fixed Coppinger," he said. "He's gone down to see her, and he'll be over here when he's through."

"Sit down," I said, waving to a chair. "Is it true she's signed statement?

  He nodded. "They've given it to the press. It'll be in the evening papers." He took out his comb and fiddled with it.

  "They've had six hours to work on her before we knew they'd got her," he went on. "That's plenty of time to make a girl talk …"