Bare Trap (3 page)

Liddell grinned. “Shad Reilly apparently liked it.”

“That junior-grade wolf! She wore skirts, didn’t she? Say, what’s this all about? The kid in another jam?”

Liddell shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. He hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”

The blonde wrinkled her nose curiously. “So what? He’s stayed away before and Richards never needed a private eye. All he had to do was wait.” She chewed on the end of her fingernail. “What’s so special about this time?”

Liddell shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe the
divine Terry can tell me.”

“She probably can, at that,” the blonde snorted. “He probably went in hiding to get away from her. The way she’s been trying to latch onto him these past few months I don’t blame him.”

Liddell consulted his watch. “You make her sound so fascinating I can hardly wait to meet her.”

“I hope your eyes aren’t bigger than your stomach.” She pulled over a pad, scribbled another notation on it. “Here’s another telephone number you might find handy.”

“What is it?”

“The Red Cross. Maybe they’ll be able to spare you a pint of blood!”

J
ERRY
’
S
P
REVIEW
was a little hole in the wall stuck between a novelty shop and a camera store run by a big Hollywood star on Hollywood Boulevard just off Vine. Muggsy Kiely was on her second cup of coffee and her fourth fingernail when Johnny Liddell finally appeared in the doorway. He stood there until his eyes became adjusted to the sudden darkness, squinted along the row of booths that were separated with high partitions.

Muggsy waved to him from one of the end booths, rushed down to meet him. “You dog!” She jumped into his arms. “You haven’t changed a bit. I’ve been waiting here like a jilted bride for hours.”

“Don’t you talk about me not changing. You’re still suckering me into bad deals. Do you know what this job is that you brought me high-tailing from Frisco to handle?”

Muggsy giggled. “A job’s a job.” She put her hands against his chest, pushed herself out to arm’s length, looking
him over critically. “You’ve been putting on weight since I left. Just because I wasn’t there to heckle you!”

“That’s muscle.” He cocked his head appraisingly, ran his eyes from the perky poodle cut to the ballet shoes with appropriate stops on the way. “I hope you can’t say the same?”

She made a face at him, caught him by the hand, led him to the back booth. The seats were hard, the high partitions on either side gave reasonable privacy.

“I ought to be good and mad at you.” Muggsy pouted. “In Frisco and you weren’t even going to stop by and say hello on your way back.”

“I came running, didn’t I?”

“I’ll say. I called you last night at six and you get here today at four. Some running. You could have walked faster. Why didn’t you take the Lark or an early plane?”

“Business, baby. I had some unfinished business.”

“Blonde or brunette?”

Liddell grinned, leaned back while a patently annoyed waitress shoved a stained menu in front of him. “I’ll just have coffee. How about you, Muggs?”

Muggsy groaned, nodded. “Sure. Why should one more make any difference? I’ve had two already waiting for you.” The waitress sniffed audibly, scooped up the menus, shuffled back to the kitchen.

“What’s with her?” Liddell wanted to know.

“She’s run out of ideas on how to get me out of here. She played ‘Shrimp Boats’ on that damn juke box so many times I got seasick. I guess she just ran out of nickels.” She leaned her elbows on the edge of the table. “You’re going to take the case, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“It’s not much of a case, Muggs. Just playing nursemaid for some spoiled movie brat and getting him cleaned up for the press.”

“So what? It’ll give you an excuse to stay around for a couple of days. It’ll be like old times.” She reached over, covered his hand with hers. “I know a couple of nice spots down south, where — ”

“If I take the case I’ll be a workingman, baby,” Liddell chided her. “Still want me to take it?”

Muggsy nodded.

“Okay. In that case I’ll have to be running along. I’ve got a date at five-thirty.” He looked at his watch, scowled. “Just about make it.”

“That can wait. Who’s it with, anyhow?”

“Terry Devine. I’m supposed to meet her at her place.”

“That man-eater? If you’re going, I’m going.”

Liddell grinned. “Nothing doing. If she’s as good as you all say she is, I don’t want any audience. It makes me nervous.”

“I’ll just lay chickee for you. I understand the traffic is pretty heavy.” The waitress sloshed two coffees in front of them, retreated a few steps where she made a flourish of adding up the bill. She stuck it in front of Liddell, face up, showing a total of $3.30.

“Say, with the price of coffee what it is in this town, it’s a good thing I have got a case.” He reached into his pocket, brought out a roll of bills, covered the bill with a five.

“You pay the cashier.” The waitress exposed buck teeth in an acid smile. “I only get the tip.” She looked at Muggsy. “We’re not allowed to charge rent.” She took the single Liddell peeled off, shuffled to the kitchen.

“Friendly little town, isn’t it?” Liddell nodded. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to feel right at home unless I get poisoned first.”

“Don’t change the subject. Do I go with you when you talk to Terry Devine or not?” Muggsy demanded.

“Not to give you a short answer — no! But it won’t take long. You can wait here for me if you like.”

“That’s all I’d need.” Muggsy grinned. “And while it doesn’t take some people as long as others, nonetheless I’m coming along. I’ll wait in the cab. Maybe the click of the meter will keep your mind on business.”

Liddell sipped at his coffee, burning his tongue, and swore under his breath. “I’m beginning to think you don’t trust me.”

“I hope not.” The blonde checked her watch. “If you really do have a date with Devine for five-thirty, we’d better be on our way.”

The Denton Apartments was a huge, square pile of bricks perched on a ledge overlooking Hollywood, and boasting the usual doorman dripping braid in the naval manner, and a receptionist. The elevator operator looked more like movie juveniles than most movie juveniles do.

Terry Devine answered his knock on the door herself. She had thick black hair caught just above the ears with a blue ribbon, then cascading down over her shoulders. A pink angora sweater made no attempt to disguise her shapeliness, and the carefully tailored slacks gave good evidence of being well filled.

“Mr. Liddell?” Her voice was rich, deep, gave evidence of some training. “Won’t you come in?”

Liddell followed her through a small hall into the living-room, accepted an invitation to sit down. The girl selected a bottle of bourbon and a bottle of Scotch from a liquor cabinet, placed them on the table at the head of the couch. Then she dropped down beside Liddell.

“Now what’s all this about Shad?” She turned the full impact of a pair of violet eyes on Liddell. “What’s he gotten himself into this time?”

“I don’t know that he’s gotten himself into anything. He’s disappeared. I thought you might have some ideas.”

“Disappeared? Why, I saw him only a few days ago.” She caught her full lower lip between her teeth, ridged her head in concentration. “It was, now let me see — I think it was Monday he dropped by to drive me to the studio.”

“Heard from him since?”

The girl shook her head. “I’ve been working day and night on a new picture. But that was only four days ago. How long since he’s been missing?”

“Since Monday. Richards doesn’t want any publicity on it, and since he’s pretty sure the kid isn’t off on a long week-end, he asked me to have a look around.” He reached over, poured some bourbon into a glass, looked at the girl
inquiringly, got an absent nod. He handed her the glass, and poured himself a short drink. “At least we don’t think it was a long week-end. Richards tells me the kid was concentrating on you lately.”

The girl nodded. “Shad was a little wild, but that was because he never knew anybody who really understood him.”

“And you do.”

The violet eyes crinkled at him from over the rim of her glass. “I try to.”

“Then it wasn’t a brawl over a woman last Saturday night?”

The girl dropped her eyes, leaned over to replace her glass on the end table. “What do you mean?”

“Shad ran into some trouble last Saturday night. He told Richards he got banged up in an accident, but there wasn’t a mark on the car. What happened?”

The girl shook her head, got up, walked to the window facing out over the city. “I don’t know if Shad would want me to discuss it.”

“You can trust me. My only interest is trying to bail him out of whatever trouble he’s in.”

The girl looked out the window for a moment, then, as if reaching a decision, she swung around. “I think I can.” She walked back to the couch, stood close to Liddell. “I like discreet men — especially when they’re big men.” She sat down next to him, close enough so that he could feel the roundness of her thigh against his. “You’re right, it wasn’t an accident. I’m not too sure myself what it was all about.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened and let me take it from there?” Liddell suggested.

“There’s not much to tell. We were out dancing Saturday night. I wasn’t due at the studio on Sunday so we were sort of celebrating. After we left the club we drove out to the point and sat looking at the water.” She reached for her glass, cupped it in her two hands. “Another car drove up behind us. There were two men in it.” She took a deep
slug out of her glass. “It was pretty awful, Liddell.”

“They worked him over, eh?”

“I thought they were going to kill him. He kept begging them to give him a break, but they wouldn’t. They kept beating him.” She put her hand over her eyes. “When they were done they just got into their car, leaving him on the ground, and drove off.”

“He didn’t tell you what it was about?”

Terry shook her head. “He couldn’t. I had to drive home. I wanted him to stay here, but he insisted on going to his place.”

“Two of them, eh?” Liddell scowled at his glass, swirled the liquor around the sides. “Recognize them? Ever see them before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Shad do much gambling?”

The brunette shook her head. Too vehemently. “Not that I know of.”

Liddell sighed. “Look, baby. If I’m going to help the kid, I have to know what the score is. You don’t have to worry about shocking me. I’m really a big boy now.”

Terry reached over, put her hand on his knee. “I’m not ungrateful, Liddell. It’s just that — well, I don’t want to get Shad in any more trouble than he’s in.”

“Then he was gambling. Where?”

“I don’t know. He did it mostly when I was working. I tried to argue with him, but he was stubborn. Kept telling me he knew what he was doing.”

“Why should he take a shellacking just because he owes some dough? He has money, hasn’t he?”

The brunette shrugged. “You know the setup if you’re working for Richards. He hasn’t got a dime until he’s twenty-one. That’s probably why he’s hiding out. Afraid of whoever he owes money to and hoping to scare Richards into opening up with some of his money.”

Liddell considered it, nodded. “That might be it.”

“I’m sure it is. If you’d only convince Richards that Shad really is scared, maybe he will open up with some
money. Will you?”

“I could try. But even if I did talk Richards into bailing the kid out, how would he get to know that everything was all right, that he could come home?”

“Leave that to me.”

“Then you do know where he is?”

The girl grinned lazily and shook her head. “I don’t have the faintest idea. But he’ll be getting in touch with me. He can’t stay away from me too long.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“Then you’ll do it? You’ll talk to Richards? For my sake, if not for Shad’s.”

Liddell grinned. “It might be unethical to have two clients on one case.”

“Nobody would have to know,” she insinuated. She leaned over, pressed her lips against his. “That’s a down payment on your fee.”

Outside, a horn started to toot. Liddell groaned.

“What’s the matter? You didn’t seem to like it very much. Don’t you want to kiss me? I Won’t hurt you,” she taunted.

She didn’t.

J
OHNNY
L
IDDELL
slouched on the back seat of the cab; he stole a look at the meter and groaned. “We could have bought this heap for what this is going to cost us,” he complained to Muggsy.

The blonde grinned. “If you want to dance, you’ve got to pay the piper, Romeo.”

“I told you it was strictly business. We were talking about the kid. She gave me some good leads.”

Muggsy sniffed. “And that ain’t all.” She handed him a wisp of linen. “Here, wipe your lips.”

Liddell touched the handkerchief to his lips, solemnly examined the stain. “I must get to see my dentist more often. Besides, who’s supposed to be the detective in this combination?”

“A very good question.” She took the handkerchief between thumb and forefinger, held it out the window of the cab, let it drop. “She must put that stuff on with a trowel.”

Liddell grunted, lapsed into silence, watched with jaundiced eye as the cabby swung north on Wilshire, cutting in and out effortlessly, leaving a string of sweating and swearing drivers in his wake.

“Stop sulking, Johnny. What did the divine Terry tell you? Anything?”

“Not too much,” he admitted. “My hunch was right. The kid has been gambling. But where? That’s the question.”

“She didn’t know?”

“Says not.”

“Suppose I can find out for you right now?”

Liddell turned on the seat, studied her suspiciously. “How?”

“I’ve got contacts. Want me to?”

Liddell rubbed the heel of his hand up the side of his jaw, weighed the consequences of accepting aid, capitulated. “Yeah.”

Muggsy grinned triumphantly, leaned forward. “Never mind taking us to my place, Benny. You know where Lulu Barry’s office is?”

“Sure thing, Miss Kiely,” the cabby called back over his shoulder.