Delta Factor, The (7 page)

At four thirty I picked up the key, paid my bill and hopped a cab uptown, picked up the .45 and box of ammo, a set of picks and two small files that had the biting edge of an acetelene torch. A half hour later I was knocking on Kim Stacy's door and heard her cross the room to open it for me.

“Hello, my betrothed,” I said.

“Let's not make too much of a game of it, Morgan.”

“Everything's a game, Kim. It's only the stakes that change.”

She shut the door behind me and followed me inside, waited until I had settled myself in the big chair, then sat crosswise on the one by the desk. “You weren't here last night.”

“Did it matter?”

“My people didn't like it.”

“Screw your people.”

“Your part of this operation is voluntary.”

“Okay, so I'm back.”

Kim nodded, but there was a shadow of accusation in her eyes. “Not that it will matter to you,” she told me, “but I have signed a receipt for your person and until I in turn sign you over to your next custodian, my neck and career are on the block. I didn't ask for this duty. I didn't want it. But it was offered to me and I accepted it. Since your acceptance was of a voluntary nature I was hoping our arrangement would be to our mutual satisfaction. There's no reason for either of us getting hurt.”

“Oh, honey,” I said, “come off it. Hell, if I wanted to exercise my talents I'd take on the whole damn department you represent, not pick on just you. Now knock it off, okay?”

Reluctantly, and with a dour grin, she said, “Okay, Morgan. We'll stay loose and cool.”

“Sure. Now ... anything on Gorman Yard?”

For a few seconds she worried her lip with her teeth. “He's dead, Morgan.”

“What!”

“There was an industrial accident in the prison machine shop. No one was held responsible.” She stopped, watched my reaction, then folded her arms on the back of the chair. “Since you were the one to institute the inquiry, they've started another investigation.”

“That should be fun with those boys up there. They won't get very far. How did the cops nail him in the first place?”

“They ware tipped off to his whereabouts by an anonymous phone call. They followed up the story the informer gave them and made the charge stick. It was all cut and dry. Yard even confessed and didn't try very hard to fight his conviction. It was almost as if he preferred being sent up.”

“That might just be the way it was.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing. What about the rest of my forty million?”

“So far, nothing has appeared. All possible outlets for bills of that denomination with those serial numbers had been alerted. You did a good job of it. The only trouble is, the heat's not going to go off in this case. You can pass that on to the rest of your friends you worked that robbery out with.”

“I'm a loner, Kim. You saw my record.”

“This time you weren't. It took more than one person to engineer that job. You pulled the same stunt twice during the war, getting those troop-movement plans and coordinates on the German blockhouses from their armored cars. You even laid it out ahead of time in Allied Headquarters, the booby-trap devices to stop their vehicles at a given spot, the D-Y gas to knock out the occupants without them ever knowing what had happened and the means of entry with that compact torch unit they devised for you. Only this time you improved your technique. There was no torch. It was more like an acid burn. They still can't figure it. What did you use, Morgan?”

Somehow her tone had changed to one of mild respect and I grinned at her. “We had six men on that deal, honey.”

“I know. We looked into that too, wondering if they decided to beome accomplices in a bigger haul. Three are dead; one was a rather severe casualty and later disappeared into the limbo of Australia and the German national you worked with is now a staid, successful businessman in Berlin. No, you're the only one left, the only one who could plan and execute a coup like that one.”

“I accept your applause.”

“It's too bad you're not worth it.”

“Nuts.”

“At least this way you can redeem yourself a little bit.”

“Nuts to that, too,” I said.

“Your funeral, Morgan.”

“Maybe.” I looked at my watch. It was almost six thirty. “You packed?” I asked her.

Puzzle lines touched her forehead. “Why?”

“Because we're leaving on our honeymoon.”

She seemed to stiffen and her mouth went tight. “You said ... you wanted three days.”

“Then let's just say I can't wait any longer. If I have to do this on my own I'm going to do it my own way. Get your bags packed. I have a car waiting downstairs. You're on orders, so don't buck me. Like you said, stay loose and cool. The worst of it is still ahead.”

 

We were married in Georgia near the Florida line at a little place that specialized in “Marriage Certificate, Blood Test and Ceremony, One Hour.” My lack of any name but Morgan almost stopped the JP until I came up with my Army discharge papers and suggested their style of NFN-NMI, no first name-no middle initial; then he was ready for his routine.

It wasn't the happiest of weddings because Kim looked too nervous and I as too damn tired to react like a normal bridegroom should. When I kissed her as custom required and the JP and witnesses expected, it was more like a couple of fighters touching gloves before the first round began. But maybe it wasn't such an abnormal reaction at that. The fee and tip were collected with a toothy smile and a hearty “good luck” while our first witness went to the phone to get the notice into the local paper.

When we got back to the car Kim sat a little farther over than she had been and without looking at me said, “Now what?”

“We make it look real, pet. We cross the state line, register at a motel and get some sleep.”

I knew what she was thinking, but she didn't say it. Her nod was one of perfunctory agreement, but a little shudder seemed to run across her shoulders and took the edge off for me. It's always good to have a broad a little scared of you. I grinned at my reflection in the windshield, turned on the ignition and got back out on the highway.

At dusk I spotted the Flora Palm Ranch Motel and turned in the pebbled driveway. Being off season, there were only a few other cars, but two of them had “Just Married” slogans painted on their sides and were festooned with ribbons and shredded pieces of crepe paper. I said, “We're in good company, Kim.”

“Please.”

“Don't worry; I'll get twin beds.”

The clerk handed me the register and took my money without a second glance and slid a key to Number 20 across the counter. I left a wake-up call for six, then pulled the car down to our room and unloaded the two bags and stuck them inside the room. I had to have at least one kick out of the deal, so as Kim walked by I scooped her up in my arms and carried her inside. She let out a sudden, sharp gasp and froze momentarily in my arms until I put her down.

“It's an old custom, sugar. I've never been married before.”

Very slowly the frost left her face and she smiled gently at me. One hand touched my cheek and she raised herself on her toes and touched her mouth against mine. It was only for a second, but the rich softness of her lips was bedded in warmth their moistness couldn't quench.

“I'm sorry, Morgan. It was sweet of you. I've never been married before either. Thank you.”

“The government has some screwy regulations. I hope you know all the rules.”

“I do. I hope you observe them.”

“Don't trust me too far, doll,” I grinned at her. “And don't depend on your karate training.”

“Now we're back to that again,” she laughed. “How about this?”

In her hand she held a tiny black automatic and the snout was pointed right at my belly. But she didn't see my hand move and suddenly the big hole in the end of the .45 in my fist was staring at a spot between her eyes. “How about that?” I asked her.

“What a wonderful way to begin a marriage. I get your message, Morgan; now can we get to business?”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

For twenty minutes she was on the phone to her people, her guarded conversation giving the details of the wedding and our location. Evidently she was told to go ahead on her own; then for a full five minutes she did nothing but listen. When she hung up she swung around with an impatient gesture and said, “We're to proceed as planned. There's only one change.”

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. “What change?”

“The agency feels that we'll have to move faster. They're sending in word of our arrival.”

“Those stupid...”

She waved a hand to shut me up. “Not through our people. It will come from their own sources. More a rumor than anything else. At least we'll be expected and you won't have to do all the groundwork.”

“That's the key to the success of this thing. Don't they know that?”

“I'm sure they know what they're doing.”

“Damn it, they'd better.”

“Do you mind tell me what arrangements you've made?”

“When the time comes,” I told her.

I picked up the telephone and gave a New York number to the switchboard. After the third ring it was picked up and a voice said, “Joey Jolley here.”

“Morgan, Joey.”

“Ah, you've reconsidered—”

I cut him off. “No dice yet, Joey. Let things jell first.” “If that's the way it has to be. What can I do for you?”

“Gorman Yard is dead.”

“Yes, I know,” he told me without any emotion. “I took the trouble to make inquiries. My source tells me the accident he sustained wasn't of his own doing. Naturally, nobody's talking, but you know the grapevine. Somebody inside there got orders to cool Mr. Yard and did an excellent job of it.”

“That's what I was afraid of,” I said.

“Incidentally, he isn't the only one from that neighborhood who took the big trip.

Something tightened in the pit of my stomach. “Go on.”

“I just heard the TV report that the body of a girl found strangled to death an hour ago has been identified as Bernice Case. They suggested she was a lady of the evening and probably was killed in the pursuit of her occupation. Or is that simply a cover job, Morgan?”

My hand felt as though it would break the receiver into bits. Damn, they had gotten to her. One lovely, lonely girl who only wanted to be liked. One poor little hooker who gave more than she took. They had to go and slam her. I kept my voice as normal as possible and said, “I can't see the connection, Joey. You know the racket she was in.”

He let a few seconds pass. “Possibly. The mob doesn't appreciate individual operators. If they hit her because she didn't pay off they could be in real trouble. I understand she was a well-liked kid.”

“Any action on it?”

“Rough talk around the neighborhood. Somebody's going to get their ass wiped with a cob if they find out who was behind it. Old Gussie is leading the parade and you know her.”

“Tough. Wish I could do something.”

“Sure there's no connection?”

“Not on my end,” I lied. “What I wanted to know was the inside on Whitey Tass.”

“You kidding?” Joey said. His voice said I should know better than to ask. “If it's big it's got his name on it, but he still commands a political power in his section that keeps the heat off better than fiberglass. He's growing, Morgan. Keep clear of him.”

“I intend to. That's why I'm calling you. See what you can get.”

“Facts or rumors?”

“Either one. Both are probably true.”

“One's easier to get.” He coughed, then added, “The things I'll do for a slice of that forty mil amaze me, Morgan.”

“Just remember that it's all on speculation.”

“I'll trust your reputation. How do I reach you?”

“You can't, I said. “I'll call you.”

I hung up and turned around. The muscles in my back and shoulders were bunched into knots and I could feel the tightness drawing my mouth into a flat line. Kim watched me a moment, saying nothing, knowing I had to get it out of me anyway.

When I felt like bursting I said softly, “Bernice Case. She was my friend. They killed her for nothing.”

I didn't have to say anything more. She'd remember the name and call it in and all those big agencies could go to work on it and if they were smart they'd put things together and work it out with the ones in the neighborhood who could be just as efficient in their own way. And if they didn't do it, I'd be back and do it for them.

I flopped on the bed and closed my eyes. In a few minutes I heard the bedsprings next to me creak. Outside, the tree frogs peeped an endless tune and far off I could hear the traffic on the highway going by.

Kim's voice was very quiet when she asked, “Was she your girl, Morgan?”

“I only saw her once,” I said.

For the second time that night she said, “I'm sorry.” For that one moment she was a woman, and not a trained pro playing watchdog to a fugitive.