Knock Knock Who's There? (8 page)
Read Knock Knock Who's There? Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
"Twenty-five," Tanza said. "The money in your office at ten. You couldn't get it anywhere else. Now . . . who did it?"
"All I know it was an inside job," Massino said. "It's just happened. I'll find out who did it, you can bet your life on that! I'm having the town sealed off, but the chances are the bastard's out by now."
"As soon as you know, tell me," Tanza said. "I'll turn the organization after him. Just let me know his name and we'll find him."
"Yeah. It must be one of my punks. Well, thanks, Carlo. I knew I could rely on you." A pause, "How about twenty per cent?"
Tanza chuckled.
"You're a tryer, Joe. I have to work by rule. If it was me I'd let you have it for ten, but this will be New York money and it comes pricey," and he hung up.
Massino sat for a long moment, his face ugly with rage. Then, shoving back his chair, he strode out into the passage and into Andy's office.
Lieutenant Mulligan, a fat, freckled-faced man was examining the safe. Two other plain clothes detectives were fingerprinting. Benno and Ernie had gone. Andy stood just inside the doorway, nibbling his thumb nail.
"The road blocks are going up, Mr. Massino," Mulligan said. "If he hasn't got away by now, he won't get away."
Knowing some thirty vital minutes had been wasted, Massino glared at the detective and then spat on the floor.
Toni Capello had been told to find Johnny. As he got into his Lincoln, he decided that the most likely place where Johnny would be found was with his girl friend, Melanie.
Toni envied Johnny. This lush, well built girl was his idea of a good lay. He thought it would be fun to batter on the door and get Johnny out of bed. Who knows? The girl might even come to the door herself.
He knew her name and where she lived. Once, he had spotted Johnny and the girl leave a restaurant and because he had the hots for her and nothing better to do, he had followed them back to Melanie's pad.
It took him only a few minutes to reach the street and he saw Johnny's car parked outside the apartment block. He grinned as he pulled up behind the car.
So Johnny was up there with his whore, Toni thought as he crossed the sidewalk. Man! Was he in for a shock!
He rode up in the elevator. Reaching Melanie's front door, he dug his fingers into the bell push and kept it there.
There was a long delay, then the door jerked open. Melanie, holding a cotton wrap around her, stared at him, terror in her eyes.
"What is it?" she demanded, her voice strident. What goes on? Toni wondered. This chick's flipping her lid.
"I want Johnny . . . get him out of bed! The boss wants him pronto."
"He's not here!" Melanie began to shut the door, but Toni's foot came forward, blocking it.
"He is here, baby. Don't fool around. His car's outside. He's wanted." Then raising his voice, he yelled, "Hey, Johnny! The boss wants you!"
"I tell you he's not here!" Melanie cried. "Get out! He's not here!"
"Is that right?" Toni moved forward, pushing her back. "Then where is he?"
"I don't know!"
"His car's outside."
"I tell you I don't know!" She waved imploring hands to the door. "Go away . . . get out!"
Suspicion lit a spark in Toni's mind. Why was she so frightened? Why was Johnny's car outside if he wasn't here?
Shoving her aside, he went into the bedroom and turned on the light. He looked around, then saw Johnny's tie on the floor.
"He's been here," he said as Melanie, shaking, came to the bedroom door. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know! I don't know anything! Get out!"
Jesus! Toni thought, it couldn't have been Johnny? Not Johnny! He caught hold of her wrist, swung her around and flung her down on the bed. He bent over her.
"Talk, baby, or I'll soften you. Where's he gone?"
Shuddering, Melanie tried to sit up. Toni placed his hand over her face and flung her back, then he repeated, "Where is he?"
"I don't know," Melanie sobbed.
He slapped her twice, jerking her head from side to side.
"Where is he?" he yelled at her. "Come on, baby, spill it!"
She lay stunned by the force of the slaps.
"I don't know," she mumbled, trying to shield her face. "I don't know anything!"
Toni hesitated. He was almost sure she was lying, but to knock Johnny Bianda's girl about could be asking for real trouble if he was making a mistake.
If Johnny suddenly walked in and caught him with this chick, Johnny would kill him. Toni had no doubt about that.
"Get your clothes on," he said. "You and me are going for a ride. Come on!"
"I won't go with you! Get out!" Melanie screamed. Then sliding down the bed away from him, she was on her feet and out into the sitting-room before be could stop her.
Cursing, Toni rushed after her, caught her at the front door and dragged her back into the bedroom. He pulled his gun and shoved the barrel into her chest.
"Get dressed!" he snarled.
She looked with horror at the gun, then he had no more trouble with her.
Twenty minutes later, he led her into Massino's office.
"Something stinks here, boss," he said as Massino glared first at him and then at Melanie. "Maybe you can talk to her." He went on to tell Massino about Johnny's car, about Melanie's terror and no Johnny.
"What are you trying to tell me?" Massino snarled. "You telling me Johnny took the money?"
"I'm telling you nothing. She'll tell you."
Massino turned his bloodshot, enraged eyes on Melanie who shrivelled under his glare.
"Where's Johnny?"
She began to sob helplessly.
"I don't know. He went out on a job . . . that's what he called it. Don't touch me! He told me I was to be his alibi. He lost his medal . . ."
Massino drew a long slow breath.
"Sit down," he said. "Here, Toni, give her a chair." Then he began to question Melanie who talked, terrified by the staring bloodshot eyes and the fat, stone- hard face.
"Okay," Massino said finally. "Take her home, Toni," and getting up he went into Andy's office where Lieutenant Mulligan was about to leave. Massino drew him aside. "I want you to pick up Johnny Bianda," he said. "Turn every goddamn cop you've got on the job. Keep it quiet . . . understand?"
Mulligan gaped at him.
"Bianda? You think he's behind this?"
Massino grinned like a wolf.
"I don't know, but if you can't find him in four or five hours, he could be. Drop everything . . . get after Bianda!"
At 10.00, Carlo Tanza arrived in a Cadillac with three bodyguards. With a wide, oily smile he watched them dump two heavy suitcases on Massino's desk.
Tanza was a short, stocky Italian with a balding head, a big paunch, tiny, evil eyes and lips like red wine.
He shook hands with Massino, waved his men out of the office, nodded to Andy who stayed to count the money, then sat down. "There's the money, Joe," he said. "You ask, you get. How's that for service?"
Massino nodded.
"Thanks."
"The boss talked to me on the phone," Tanza said.
"He wasn't pleased. If you want to hold on to your Numbers, Joe, you have got to wake up your ideas. This safe . . ."
"I'm getting a new one."
"I guessed you would. Now, who took the money?"
"Nothing certain yet," Massino said, "but it points to Johnny Bianda. He's gone missing."
"Bianda?" Tanza looked startled. "I got the idea he was your best man."
"Yeah." Massino's face turned red and his little eyes glittered, "but it points to him," and he went on to tell Tanza about Melanie, the alibi and the fact Johnny's car was still parked outside Melanie's pad.
"You're sure the girl knows nothing?"
"I'm sure. I scared the crap out of the bitch."
"So what are you going to do?"
Massino closed his big hands into fists.
"If he's skipped town, I want the organization to go after him. If he's still in town, I'll find him."
"He can buy himself a lot of protection with all that dough," Tanza said thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll tell the Big Man. So you want us to find him . . . right?"
"If he's not holed up here . . . yes."
"I don't want to start something too soon, Joe. Once the organization gets moving its hard to stop and it costs. Suppose you make certain he isn't in town, then give me the green light, huh?"
"If he's skipped, the longer you wait the further he'll go."
Tanza grinned evilly.
"It don't matter how far he goes . . . if he goes to China, we'll find him. We've never failed yet. You make sure first he isn't in town, then we'll take over."
He got to his feet. "I'm only trying to save you money, Joe. We don't work for nothing."
When Tanza had gone, Massino called Toni and Ernie into the office.
"Go to Johnny's place and search it." he ordered. "I want every scrap of information, every scrap of paper you can find there. I want you to send out some of the boys to ask around. I want to know who his friends are.
When they had left, Massino called Lieutenant Mulligan.
"Anything new?" he asked when the Lieutenant came on the line.
"It's my bet he's skipped town," Mulligan said. "There's no trace of him. I've dug up his record, his prison photo and his finger prints. Would they be of any use to you?"
"Yeah. I want everything you've got on him."
"I'll send a man over with the photostats right away, Mr. Massino."
"Would you know if he has any relatives?"
"Doesn't seem to from his record. His father died five years ago."
"Anything on him?"
"An Italian: worked in a fruit cannery in Tampa. Johnny was born there."
Massino thought for a moment.
"A dog to its vomit. He could be heading back South."
"Yeah. Do you want me to alert the Florida police . . . can do."
Massino hesitated, then said, "No. I can handle this, but keep hunting for him in town." A pause, then Massino said, "The next time you're passing look in and see Andy. He'll have something for you."
As Mulligan began mumbling thanks, Massino hung up.
At 19.00, Massino was still at his desk. Spread out before him were the various items that Mulligan had sent him and that Toni and Ernie had found in Johnny's apartment.
Andy hovered behind him, chain smoking, but quiet. He could feel the intensity of Massino's vicious fury that was only just under control.
"So what have we got?" Massino demanded suddenly.
"He's our man," Andy said. "No question about it now and he's skipped town."
"Who the hell would have thought Johnny would have done this to me?" Massino asked, pushing back his chair. "The sonofabitch! Well, okay, I'll turn the organization after him. It may take time, but they'll find him and then he'll wish he'd never been born!"
Andy came to the desk.
"This interests me, Mr. Joe," he said and picked up a much thumbed copy of
Yachts & Motorboats
, a technical magazine for boat builders that Toni had found in Johnny's apartment. "Why should Johnny have this?"
Yachts & Motorboats
, a technical magazine for boat builders that Toni had found in Johnny's apartment. "Why should Johnny have this?"
"How the hell should I know?" Massino snarled. "It means nothing!"
Andy was flicking through the pages, then he paused at an advert of a thirty-foot cabin cruiser that had been ringed by a pencil.
"Look at this."
Massino glared at him.
"So what?"
"Do you think Johnny is interested in boats? Do you think his plan was to skip in a boat?"
Massino became attentive.
"Yeah . . . another pointer to the South."
"And this." Andy picked up a gaudy Christmas card that Toni had also found. Written in a spidery handwriting was the legend:
See you sometime.
Giovanni Fuselli.
Jackson.
"Where the hell is Jackson and what's so important about this goddamn thing?"
"Jackson is around thirty miles from Jacksonville, Florida."
Then the telephone bell rang. Ernie was on the line.
"Got something, boss," he said, his voice excited. "Just been talking to a young punk who says he gave a ride to a guy who matches up with Bianda's description. He dropped him off at Reddy's cafe."
"Get him over here. I'll show him Bianda's photo." Massino hung up, then looked at Andy. "Looks like Johnny got a ride out of town to Reddy's cafe: that's where the truckers stop before driving South, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"South!" Massino said. "It all points south, doesn't it? That's where the bastard's gone!"
Fifteen minutes later, Ernie, accompanied by Joey, looking uneasy, came into the office.
Massino pushed the photo across the desk.
"That him?"
Joey peered at the photo, then nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Okay." Massino took out his wallet, found a five dollar bill and tossed it at Joey. "Get his name and address," he said to Ernie, "and get him out of here."
"Wait." Andy came forward as Joey started for the door. "This guy you gave a ride to was carrying two heavy bags . . . right?" Joey shook his head.
"He wasn't carrying a thing."
"He didn't have even one bag?"
"Nothing."
"Goddamn it!" Massino snarled. "He must have been carrying two bags!"
Joey paled, but shook his head.
"Honest, sir, he wasn't carrying a thing!"
"Okay," Andy said quietly, "take him away."
As the office door shut, Massino glared at Andy. "You reckon the money's still in town?"
"No. Let's look at this, Mr. Joe. Don't let's rush it."
Andy began to pace up and down and because Massino knew this little man was no fool, he restrained his impatience while he waited. Andy paused. "Bianda is a loner. He has no friends we've been able to dig up, yet he gets this Christmas card so he does have someone. He takes off, but he hasn't the money with him and he must know he could never dare show his snout again in this town if he stashed it so it looks to me that he wasn't working alone. Call this a hunch, Mr. Joe," Andy paused, then went on, "Suppose this other guy Bianda was working with rushed the money out of town while Bianda was looking for his medal? Are you getting my thinking, Mr. Joe? Bianda and this other guy do the job. This other guy takes the money. Bianda goes back to his whore. The idea is none of us would suspect him of the steal. Then he finds the medal gone. He knows he's cooked if the medal is found in my office. He has to be sure, but Benno has the cops here so Bianda panics, gets a ride out of town and beads south to join this other guy." Andy leaned forward and tapped the Christmas card. "Fuselli. It's my guess he's this other guy."
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