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Authors: James Hadley Chase

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BOOK: Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief
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6

June 5th, 10.15 a.m.

THE SUN came through the windows of Mendetta's apartment and made patterns on the white carpet.

Remains of breakfast on a silver tray stood on a little table by the settee. An ash−tray gave out a thin grey smoke of a dying cigarette.

Jean, still in a bed−wrap, lay on the settee, her eyes closed and her thoughts far away. She was trying to imagine her life without Mendetta. It was difficult to imagine. It would be difficult also to replace this luxury.

But she knew that she couldn't live with Mendetta much longer.

The telephone rang shrilly. It startled her. She reached out and took the receiver off. “Who is it?” she said.

Her voice was deep, almost man−like.

Grantham said, “Where's Mendetta?” He sounded very excited.

Jean looked up at the ceiling. She hadn't much use for Grantham. “He's out,” she said briefly. “What's wrong?”

“Where is he? I've gotta get in touch with him.”

“He's gone round to fix Poison. You can't get him there. What is it? I'll tell him.”

There was a pause. “No, I guess I'll wait.” Grantham sounded worried.

“Listen, tell me. Maybe I can get hold of him.”

“It's one of the girls. She was strangled last night.”

Jean's eyes narrowed. “Well, what of it? Tootsie can't do anything about that.”

“I know he can't; but he's gotta know.”

“All right, I'll tell him. Who did it?”

“The cops don't know.”

“I didn't ask that. I said who did it?”

Again there was a long pause. Then Grantham said, “You're not to tell Mendetta this, it'll only make him mad, but I think Raven did it.”

Jean sat up. “Why do you say that?”

“One of the patrolmen thought he recognized him going into the girl's apartment. You know, O'Hara. He keeps an eye on that beat. I slipped him a hundred bucks to keep his mouth shut.”

Jean thought for a moment. “Raven?” she repeated. “I wonder. Does that mean?”

“I don't know, but he said he'd start something, didn't he?”

“He said he'd get Tootsie. Listen, what are you going to do if he gets Tootsie?”

“Don't talk like that,” Grantham said sharply. “He won't get him. Tootsie's too big. He's too well protected.”

“I know, but suppose he does. Raven's dangerous; he might, you know. What will you do?”

“What the hell can I do? I couldn't afford to fight him. He's got quite a big mob, and they're dangerous. At this time, we can't afford a gang battle.”

Jean smiled. “You mean you'd let him walk in?”

“What else could I do? The boys only keep together because of Tootsie. If Tootsie went, they'd rat.”

“I know.”

There was a long silence.

“Listen, Jean, you don't think?”

“I don't think anything, but you and me've got to look after ourselves, haven't we?”

“Well, yes, I guess that's so, but nothing's going to happen to Tootsie. I
know
nothing will happen to Tootsie.”

Jean smiled again. “I'm glad to hear you say so,” she said, and hung up. She lay thinking for a long time, then she picked up the telephone and called a number.

Someone asked roughly what she wanted.

“I want to speak to Raven,” she said softly. “Yes, tell him it's Jean Mendetta. Yes, he'll speak to me all right,” and she lay back, an amused smile on her mouth, waiting for Raven to come to the phone.

7

June 5th, 11.20 a.m
.

JAY TOOK a taxi to the east side of the town. He was feeling pleased with himself. As soon as he had reached the office he had got Gerald Fisher on the phone and asked him about the scene Rogers had told him about.

Fisher remembered it quite well. “What do you want to know about that for?” he asked suspiciously.

“I want to find the guy who made the scene,” Jay said. “He might have an important bearing on a big case we're working on now. I don't say he has, but there is just the chance. I was hoping you might help me.”

“As a matter of fact, I do know him. He used to be one of my clerks. That was why I was so surprised to see him at the 22nd Club. His name's Fletcher. Do you want his address? I could get it for you.”

“Sure, that's just what I do want.”

“Just a moment, then.” Jay heard Fisher say something, then he came on the line again. “They're looking it up. We've got in on record, I know.”

“He doesn't work with you any more?”

“Good God, no! I couldn't have a fellow in my office like that. He made a frightful fool of himself. He had to be tossed out. I gave him the sack next morning.”

“What was the trouble, Mr. Fisher?” Jay asked.

“I don't know. He must have been drunk. He kept on yelling about his sister. I mean to say, that sort of thing isn't done at the 22nd. No, I had to get rid of him.”

Jay grinned. “Sure,” he said.

“Ah, here's the address.”

Jay wrote it down, thanked Fisher, and hung up. He thought maybe he was going on a fool's errand, but it was worth trying, anyhow.

The taxi drew up outside a large tenement house. The driver said apologetically, “This is it, boss.”

Jay got out and paid him off. He walked up the steps and rang on the bell. The place was dirty and horribly sordid. He felt people watching him behind ragged curtains all down the street.

An old woman, very dirty, with a sack for an apron, opened the door and looked at him suspiciously.

Jay raised his hat. “Mr. Fletcher in?” he asked.

“He's on the top floor. You can go up.” She stood aside to let him in. “You tell that guy to pay his rent. I'm gettin' sick of askin' him myself.”

Jay ignored her and went up the stairs. A big negro lounged against the wall on the first landing and looked at him insolently. As Jay passed he spat on the floor.

On the top floor a large fat woman sat just outside her door, peeling potatoes. Jay asked her where Fletcher's room was. She jerked her thumb to a door without saying anything.

Jay rapped on the door and pushed it open.

A man lay on a dirty mattress. He'd got a three days' growth of beard, and Jay saw he was blind in one eye.

He sat up, a scared look on his face, as Jay entered.

“What do you want?” he said. He had quite a cultured voice.

Jay looked round the dirty room and grimaced. “I'm Ellinger of the
St. Louis Banner.
I want to talk to you, pal,” he said.

Fletcher got off the bed. “I don't want to talk to anyone,” he said.

Jay thought he looked horribly thin. He began to cough and he had to sit on the bed again.

Jay pulled up a rickety chair and sat down too. “Listen, Fletcher, don't fly off the handle. You're lookin' in a bad shape. I might be able to help you.”

When he had stopped coughing, Fletcher said rather wildly, “Look what they did!”pointing to his eye.

“They did that. Threw me down a flight of stone steps. One of the heels hit me in my eye with his elbow.”

Jay lit a cigarette. He didn't like the smell of dirt in the room. “That's what I've come to see you about,” he said. “What's it all about? If I can help you I will.”

Fletcher looked at him suspiciously. “Why?” he demanded. “Why should you want to help me?”

“Now don't get that way. Been out of a job some time, haven't you? Now come on, spill it.”

“It's Janet,” Fletcher began. Then suddenly his thin face crumpled and he began to cry.

Jay pushed his hat to the back of his head and blew out his cheeks. He was very embarrassed. “What you want is a drink,” he said. “You wait. I'll get you one.”

Fletcher controlled himself with an effort. “No, don't go away,” he said. “I'm all right. I guess I'm sort of low. I haven't had much grub.”

“Well, come on. I'll buy you a lunch.” Jay got up. Fletcher shook his head. “Not now. Later, perhaps, but I want to tell you.” Jay sat down again. “Go ahead,” he said. “It's my sister, Janet. She went away one morning to work and she didn't come back. I've hunted everywhere. I've told the police, but they can't find her.”

Jay sighed. He knew there were a lot of girls in St. Louis who went out and didn't come back any more.

“Maybe she went off and got married. Maybe she thought she'd like to go to Hollywood. There're a lot of girls who suddenly get a bug in their conks and beat it without telling anyone.”

Fletcher looked up. His one eye burnt fiercely. “You don't believe that rubbish, do you?” he said. “That's what the police said.”

Jay shifted. “Well, what else could have happened to her? You don't think she's dead, do you?”

“I wish to God she was!” He beat his fist on his knee. “The Slavers have got her!” he shouted. “Do you hear? The Slavers have got her.”

“You don't know that. You only think they have. There ain't much of that stuff going on now. We've cleaned it up.”

“You're wrong. It's going on every day of the year. Decent girls leaving their homes and being trapped.

Decent girls forced into brothels. Any amount of them. And there's nothing done about it. The police know all about it, but they keep their mouths shut. Anyone who gets to know about it is given money to keep his mouth shut.”

“You can't talk like that unless you've got some proof. Why did you kick up that row at the 22nd Club?”

“Can't you guess? Grantham's working the racket.”

“You're crazy. Grantham? Don't talk bull.”

Fletcher lay back on his elbow. “I've been watching him,” he said. “One night, when the Club was closed, I saw a car draw up outside the Club. The street was empty. No one saw me. They took a girl out of the car. She had a rug over her head. Just as she got to the door she got the rug off and she screamed. They hit her on the head with something. They hit her very hard. I could hear the sound very distinctly from where I was standing. Then they carried her inside. You don't think anything of that? Well, I'll tell you some more.” There was a crazy gleam in his eye. “Another night I got on the roof. You've never been on the top floor of the Club, have you? Nor have I. But I've been on the roof. I've listened, lying on the tiles with my ear close to the roof, listening. I've heard things. I've heard girls screaming. I've heard the crack of whips. I've heard a lot of horrible things.”

Jay was interested now. “You're sure of all this?” he said.

Fletcher leant forward and grabbed his coat lapels. “Do you think I'd make it up? Don't you realize what all this means? My sister was one of those girls. She was taken into that place. They beat her until she was willing to do what they wanted. She's somewhere in this town, selling her body to anyone who'll pay for it. Do you hear? And everyone sits around, blast them, and tells me that it couldn't happen here. That this town's been cleaned up. And it's going on now... now... now!”

Jay pushed him back on to the bed gently. “Take it easy,” he said. “I believe you, anyway. Listen, Fletcher, you've got to use your brains. It's no good getting in a state about this. You'll be wanted to give evidence. I'll see that you get some money and I'll fix a job for you. You'll have to leave everything to me. I'm going out after this business. We want to close the Club up, and you've given me the right lever to do it with. Leave it to me. I'll fix those heels.”

Later, after he had made arrangements for Fletcher, he took a taxi back to the
Banner
office. The taxi couldn't drive him fast enough.

8

June 5th, 10.40 p.m.

BENNY PERMINGER just wasn't interested in the fight any more. From the first gong he'd sat forward, his jaw set and thrust out, and his hands clenched on his knees. He'd given them three rounds to get warmed up. These big guys couldn't take chances in the first few rounds. They'd got to get set and take stock of each other, so Benny was patient.

All right, this was the fifth round coming up and nothing had happened. These two punks just seemed to love each other. They poked feebly, and then shuffled into a clinch, then they'd break away, look at each other like they were surprised to see they were still standing up, and then start poking and clinching all over again.

Benny sat back suddenly with a long−drawn−out sigh of disgust. That's when it happened.
His ears slid
along silk stockings.
You don't go getting your head between a dame's knees every day. It shook him up. It took his mind right off the fight and kept it off.

The dame shifted back fast enough, but it didn't alter the fact. Benny had had his head between her knees.

She had been sitting right behind him on the tier seat. Maybe, she'd never seen a fight before, so she got excited. She came forward, _with her knees hovering over Benny's head.

Benny was sitting forward too. There was nothing in it, both sitting forward trying to squeeze some excitement out of a punk fight. It was different when Benny sat back suddenly. It gave her quite a shock when Benny's head banged between her knees. The way that dame slid back on her seat was nobody's business.

Her boy friend was quick too. One of those guys who missed nothing. He said, “Go on, give it away. Put it on a plate an' hand it round. Don't mind me.”

Benny heard him. He sounded tough, so Benny sat still, feeling a little sick. He kept his eyes on the two punks shuffling around on the resin. He stole a quick look at Sadie, sitting beside him, but she hadn't noticed anything. She was half asleep.

Fights bored her, anyway, but she'd got into the habit of going places with Benny. She liked best when they went to movies, because he didn't get excited, or look at other women, or curse.

It was a lucky break for Benny that one of the fighters suddenly thought it was time to go home. He began to hit more seriously and immediately got the other guy in trouble. All the crowd began to shout and get excited, so Benny felt a lot less scared.

All the same, he had lost interest in the fight. He wanted to have a look at this dame behind him. He knew that if he did he'd start something, so he just stared down at the brightly lit ring and made up pictures of what she might look like.

It wasn't long before he'd got such a picture that he could hardly sit still. There were two more fights on the programme, but they weren't going to keep Benny sitting in that hall. He wanted to get home with Sadie, just as fast as his car would take him.

He said, “Come on, honey, let's get outta here.”

Sadie woke up and blinked around, stared at the two little men way down in the ring, and then looked blankly at Benny. “Where's the fire?” she said.

Benny looked at her. She was good. She was just the right height, and her hair was curly, black and silky.

She reminded Benny of the cuties who give you thoughts from the front cover of
College Life.
They'd been married now two years, and Benny liked her a lot. He had even kept off other girls. Sadie had been pretty good to him. The first six months had gone well for them both.

Then Benny got used to it, and he began to slip back.

At first he'd walk along with Sadie and compare her with other dames. Sadie was good, so she came out well in that game. When he began wondering what the other dames were like, then that wasn't so good. He knew what Sadie was like. Then, from just looking, he had to make remarks. He'd say to Sadie, “Did you see that dame, just then? Gee! What a figure! Did you see anythin' like that?”

Well, Sadie felt pretty safe, and she thought Benny was just kidding her, but Benny wouldn't leave it alone.

He'd say, “I bet that dame's a hot one. Yeah, look at the way she swings her can. Gee! I guess that dame gets pushed around plenty.”

Nothing in it, but it hurt. It did more than that, it got on Sadie's nerves. She knew that one of these days he was going to cheat. Once he'd started cheating he'd go on cheating. It was no good. She'd done everything she could to hold him, but he'd got that sort of a mind. He couldn't help himself.

When he went and put his head between that flossie's knees, something snapped inside Sadie. That finished it. He didn't think she'd seen that. All right, it'd be a surprise for him.

Benny said again, “Come on, honey. Those punks'll drive me crazy.”

They pushed their way past the other people and got to the gangway. Benny looked back. Sadie was waiting for him to do that. Benny's heart jumped when he saw the dame. Boy! She was good. It made him go limp inside just to think that he'd slid his ears along her stockings.

Sadie said it for him. “I know,” she said; “don't tell me. She's cute. She's got everything. She's a menace to good men, and she's the world's biggest push−over.”

Benny blinked at her. “Hey! Where do you get that stuff?”

Sadie walked down the gangway, not listening to him. She was conscious of some of the men drawing their eyes reluctantly from the fight to watch her go. She swung her hips. “Go on,” she thought, “take a look at me. I'm not so bad myself.”

Benny came running after her. “What was that stuff about the dame?” he said angrily. “I don't like that line.”

Sadie looked at him over her shoulder. “Looked to me like you were having a good time,” she said, without stopping.

Benny nearly fell over. She'd seen after all. Hell! He might have guessed that she couldn't have missed that.

He had almost to run to keep up with her. “You ain't mad about a little thing like that?” he said anxiously.

“It was an accidentyou know that.”

She said bitterly, “Sure it was an accident. Pretty nice for you, wasn't it?”

They got to the car, and she beat him to opening the door. She climbed in and sat close up to the door, away from him. He started the engine and began to drive slowly down the winding exit.

“Forget it, baby,” he said. “It was just one of those things. Anyway, she wasn't so hot.”

Sadie knew he was lying, but she suddenly felt very tired, and she leant back, shutting her eyes.

As she didn't say anything, Benny hopefully assumed she wasn't mad any more. He drove along, his mind half on the traffic, thinking of the dame. She'd been a smasher. To think that had happened. If Sadie hadn't been there, and if that tough hadn't been there, maybe he could have dated her up. It would have been a pushover. It was a natural. He could hardly wait to get the car away.

Sadie leant limply against the wall of the little elevator as it droned up to the sixth floor. She didn't look at him. Benny stood close to her, watching her anxiously as he wiped his sweating hands with a handkerchief.

She was looking tired and a little irritable, he thought. Anyway, if he went about it in the right way it'd be all right.

In the early days of marriage he would come in from work, sweep her off her feet into the bedroom, leaving the supper to burn. She'd always protested, but he knew she was pleased as he was when it was over.

The elevator stopped at the sixth floor, and Sadie walked out. On the opposite passage Tootsie Mendetta had his apartment.

It always made Benny mad to think that a rich guy like Mendetta should live just across his passage, and he'd never set eyes on him. He knew he was there, but he'd never seen him. Anyway, right at this minute, he didn't give Mendetta a thought.

He fumbled at the keyhole, making two attempts before he sank the key. His hands shook a little.

Inside the small apartment he let her take off her hat and coat, and then he sidled up behind her. He put his arms round her from behind. “I love you, honey,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Put me down!” There was a snap in her voice that jolted him. He put her down and turned her. The cold, hostile look she gave him brought him up short, just like he'd rammed his face against a brick wall.

“Say, what's wrong? I got to thinkin' of you in the car. I thoughtI thought maybe we could go back a couple of years.”

She said, “Think again.”

“What the hell is this?” he said, his disappointment making him suddenly mad with her.

She walked back into the sitting−room. He saw her put her hand to her eyes.

He wandered after her, feeling a suppressed rage welling up in him. He leant against the door−post. “What is it?” he asked.

She said, “You know what it is.” Her voice sounded full of tears.

“Don't talk in riddles. If you've got anythin' to beef about, why not save it? Listen, honey,” Benny said urgently, “this ain't the time to start fightin'. Come on with me. We'll have a good time togetherhow's that?

You'll feel fine”

She said, interrupting him: “Wait a minute. You've got a one−track mind. That floosie's got you burnt up, and you think you can take it out of me.

'Pretty−daughter−sitting−on−father's−knee−makes−it−hard−for−mother' complex. Not this mother, it doesn't.”

Benny took off his hat and threw it across the room. He was mad. “What the hell's come over you?” he demanded, his voice rising.

Sadie went over and sat on the sofa. “I'm sick of the way you look at women. I've stood as much of it as I'm going to stand. Every woman who walks past you, you must look at. You're not content with just looking.

You must tell me. All right, if you want every dame in the street, go and have her, but I shan't be around.”

Benny rubbed his nose. “So that's it, is it?” he said, suddenly very quiet. “You're jealous, that's what you are. Listen, I haven't put my hands on one single dame since I married you. Why shouldn't I look at 'em?

What's the harm in it, anyway? I'm not doin' anythin' wrong, just looking, am I?”

“That's the way you look at it. I can't do a thing about it. So I've got to walk along the street with you and watch you gape at every girl for the rest of my life, have I?”

Benny sat in a chair opposite her. With a great effort he tried to control his patience. In a patronizing tone he said: “Now, don't be screwy, honey. This is just crazy talk. You're feeling low. Tomorrow, we'll laugh about this. Get all these ideas out of your head and you'll have everything.”

“No, I won't.”

“You'll have everything.”

“No, I won't.”

“Now, don't go on like that. I said you'll have everything, and I mean you'll have everything.”

Sadie sat up stiffly. “Shall I tell you what? When I said I won't, I mean I shan't have what I want. I'll have what you give me.”

Benny felt the blood mounting to his face. “Okay, if that's the way you feel. You'll have what I give youso what?”

“Nothing. It's going on the same way as it's been going on for the last six months. Do you know what that is?”

“All right. You tell me.”

“I'll be here cooking your food every damn day of the week. I'll be washing out your clothes when they want washing out, which is mighty often. We'll be living in this great apartment, without any servant, so that you can impress your friends. We'll be wondering every day how we are going to meet all the bills. I'll be getting into bed with you and waiting to see if you're too drunk, or if you're too tired. Then I'll be lying awake half the night wondering if anything's gone wrong while you're sleeping. Then I'll be so woke up that I shan't ever get to sleep until it's time to get your food again. That's what.”

Benny said between his teeth, “Would you do something for me? Somethin' for me right now?”

Sadie looked at him. “Go on,” she said.

“Will you shut up? Will you shut up before you say something that nothin' you'll ever say after can make any difference?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, “I guess not. I guess I'm finished with that stuff. I'm going on talking until I've said my piece. I've waited long enough.”

Benny reached for a cigarette. He lit it, noting that his hands shook a little.

Sadie hugged her knees, looking over the top of them at him.

There was a long pause, then she went on: “I've kidded myself until I just can't kid myself any longer. I thought you were a great guy, Benny, honest I did. I thought the world of you. It's not your fault, it's just that I've been kidding myself. You're not a great guy. You'll never be a great guy. You've got something that's stopping you. You want things. You work hard for them, and then you throw them away. You haven't got any feeling for something you've won, only for something you're winning. You got me. I know you didn't have to work hard. I met you halfway. I wanted you too. But I wanted you in a way that you didn't understand. I wanted you to keep. I wanted you in the morning as well as at night. I wanted to go places with you. I wanted you to eat with, to talk with, and to laugh with; but not you, Benny. You didn't want that.”

Benny said between his teeth, “I think you'd better stop.”

But she went on, as if he hadn't spoken. “Do you think it's fun for me to hear all about the other dames?

Don't I keep myself nice? At first, it hurt. Then I got thinking, wondering why I couldn't hold you. I looked at myself. I gave you everything I had. I even did things you wanted me to because I thought you'd be satisfied, but you weren't. When you wanted me, I got to wondering if you were using me and thinking of some other woman you'd seen in the street on the way home. All women are alike in the dark, aren't they, Benny? Well, I'm sick of it. I'm not doing it any more. Go out and have them, Benny, go out and have them.”

Benny said, “Have you finished?”

She shrugged. “Don't get mad. It doesn't do any good. Let's face it. One day you'll want to make a move.

One day when I'm not nice any more. Then you'll make a move. You won't just look and talk, you'll sneak off and do things. I'm not waiting for that, Benny. I want the break to come now, not when I can't fight it.”

Benny got slowly to his feet. “Well, you've had your say, an' I hope you liked it. I'm through. From now on we'll follow our own set of rails. I hope you'll like it. Maybe, after you've done some work, you'll be glad to come back. Anyway, go and try. I'm spending the night somewhere else.” He picked up his hat and without looking back, he went out, shutting the door violently behind him.

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