Read The Duchess of Skid Row Online

Authors: Louis Trimble

The Duchess of Skid Row (8 page)

BOOK: The Duchess of Skid Row
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

She sat on the couch and picked up the teapot. “He’s staying with my mother until after the funeral.” She poured some tea. “Pull up that chair, Jeff.”

I pulled a straight chair to the coffee table. I said, “You should have gone too. It can’t be much fun alone here.”

“I’ve kept busy scrubbing everything in sight,” she said. She offered me a tiny smile. “It helps to have something to do.”

She handed me my teacup. Her dark eyes were steady as she looked into my face. “I read in the paper about your resigning, Jeff. Was it because of what happened?”

“Partly. Captain Ritter thinks I killed Johnny.”

She nodded. “I know. He came out yesterday and questioned me. He and Lieutenant Maslin. He’s very nice, isn’t he.”

I didn’t think she was referring to Ritter. I said, “He’s a great guy.”

“Did anything I told Captain Ritter hurt you, Jeff?”

“Since you couldn’t tell anything but the truth, nothing you’d say could hurt me.”

“I’m glad.”

“I know it’s a hell of a time to ask, but could you tell me what you told Ritter? And anything else Johnny said or did? That might help?”

“I’ll try,” she said. She didn’t ask me whether or not I had killed Johnny. She knew that she didn’t have to ask.

She said, “I told the Captain about Johnny’s coming home night before last. I told him about the tape. I gave it to him.”

“What about the tape? When did Johnny bring it in the house?”

“That night,” she said. “When he first came home, he sat in the car for some time. He often does—did.”

She looked stricken. I didn’t say anything except, “He’d stay in the car and finish his report and then bring the tape into the house?”

She nodded. She sipped some tea. I said, “What did he do, keep his extra tapes in the house and take a fresh one with him every morning?”

She looked puzzled. I explained, “If he dictates a report on a tape and then mails or takes that tape to the office, he has to have another tape to put on the machine in case he has something to report the following day.”

Kay said, “He always kept an extra tape in the car, of course. I didn’t understand what you meant at first.”

“There was no sign of anything but the machine itself down at the forensic lab. Could Johnny have brought his extra tape in that night too?”

Kay looked thoughtful. She said slowly, “No, I’m sure he didn’t. He never had before. There’s no reason why he would have that night.”

“He wasn’t expecting any kind of trouble? He didn’t act differently from the way he had been acting?”

“No differently from the way he’d been acting the past two weeks or so.”

“What does that mean?”

She said, “Not long after he started on the investigation, he started to act preoccupied, worried. He didn’t say much to me—he never did about his work—but he did mention you. He told me he thought you were in trouble.”

“That could mean two things.”

She nodded. “That’s what Lieutenant Maslin said. “Only I remember the tone of Johnny’s voice. He was worried—but it was worry
for
you, not because of you. If you know what I mean.”

I said, “I know, but do the police?”

“I told Lieutenant Maslin,” she said. “He seemed to understand too. But he said my feeling about Johnny’s tone of voice wasn’t the kind of evidence that would do you much good.”

“It helped Maslin give me a break,” I said. “Did you tell this to Ritter?”

She shook her head. “I suppose I should have. But he was so hateful about you, so positive, that I just told him as little as I could. I gave him the tape and that was about all.”

I said, “Did you tell him what you told Maslin; that Johnny got a phone call from me only ten minutes before he went out to the shed?”

“No,” she said.

“But that was the way it happened? Johnny answered the phone and then went out to meet me?”

She said, “I was doing the dishes.” Her voice was soft and sad, remembering. “Johnny was playing with the baby—giving him a piggyback ride—when the telephone rang. I heard him answer it. He didn’t say much. Only, ‘Okay.’ ”

“Do you remember how he sounded—worried or excited or suspicious or anything like that?”

Kay said slowly, “No. He sounded a little puzzled, if anything. But I can’t be sure. I was in the kitchen where I couldn’t see his face.”

“Then did he say anything to you?”

“Just that he was supposed to meet you in the toolshed at six twenty-five. And then he grinned and said something about you wanting to pay him back for flipping you earlier.”

“Did he tell you about our meeting in the Records room?”

“He told me at dinner,” Kay said. “That’s another reason I didn’t tell Captain Ritter more. When he came to talk to me, I remembered that Johnny had said, ‘So I flipped Jeff to make it look good. I had to with Old Hardshell standing there watching. If he thought I might give Jeff a break, he’d have pulled me off the case in zero time.’ ”

“Did you tell Maslin that?”

“Yes.”

I said, “Bless you. Now I see why he hasn’t hauled me in, despite Ritter’s yowling. Did Johnny say anything else?”

She shook her head. “That’s all. At six twenty-five he went out to the toolshed. I watched him walk across the lawn.” Her eyes were beginning to show the hurt that lay deep inside. “He was in the light from the kitchen window for a minute and then he walked out of it. The toolshed light didn’t come on and I remember wondering if he needed a fresh bulb. Then I decided he was keeping it dark for his meeting with you. If I’d gone out there …” Her voice stumbled.

“If you had, you’d be dead too. Somebody set him up. I didn’t make that phone call. Whoever did was waiting for him.” I paused and added, “One more thing, Kay. Did Johnny ever say anything to give you even a hint of what the new racket might be?”

“Lieutenant Maslin and Captain Ritter asked me the same thing,” she said. “I couldn’t remember then. But now I recall something.” She stopped and looked over my shoulder as if searching her memory for the right words.

“It was that same night. When he handed me the tape.” Her voice began to flow. “I know it was. I remember him saying, ‘Here, honey, put this in its box and mail it tomorrow. And treat it tenderly. It’s probably the only magnetic tape that ever short-circuited a bookie.’ And then he laughed. I was busy getting dinner,” she added apologetically, “and it only half stuck in my mind You know how it is.”

I said, “I know. And thanks again.”

“Have I helped you, Jeff?”

I got up. “You can’t know how much, I only wish I could do something in return.”

She looked steadily at me. She said softly, “Just do something so Johnny’s death won’t have been a total loss.”

9

I
RODE
my sedan hard getting away from Kay Itsuko’s place. I had a telephone call to make before five o’clock. It was almost that when I left Kay.

I pulled up by the first drugstore I came to in the city. I used the phone booth and dialed the DA. Stephanie answered briskly, as if she might be annoyed.

I said, “Get me the boss on the line, will you?”

She said, “Thank heaven! I called and called you. First the line was busy. Then nobody answered. I was halfway out the door to see what was wrong just now.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Have you made any progress, darling?” She sounded hopeful.

“I think I have. Get me the DA, dollbaby, and I’ll fill you in later.”

She got me the DA. He said, “Don’t tell me where you are, Jeff”—

“The order is out for my scalp?”

“That’s right. Ritter has put on all the pressure he’s got. Maslin says he can’t give you any more time.”

I said, “I’ve already resigned. What difference can it make to your office if Ritter claims I’m a crook?”

“If I don’t issue an indictment, Ritter will tell the reporters that I’m showing favoritism,” the DA said. “You know that.”

I said, “I’m working on a hunch now, sir. You might call Ritter and tell him to hold off. Because if this hunch pays out and he has shot off his face to the newspaper, I’ll get him for libel.”

“That’s a strong word,” the DA said.

“I have the feeling Ritter will know what I mean.”

“Have you anything solid, Jeff? Something I can sell to Maslin?”

“Tell him this. The racket was to be a wire service set-up. I’m not sure where, and that’s what I’m on my way to find out now.” I paused and added carefully, “Hoxey Creen is the key to this deal. He’s the boy who blew up Johnny Itsuko’s car and set fire to the toolshed.”

“And you think he could have beaten a man like Itsuko to death?”

“No, sir, but I think he knows who did—the person who hired him. And I know just how to get him to talk.”

“Keep me posted, Jeff. Call me at home. I’m leaving now. And if I can do anything at all….”

“Sir, the fact that you believe in me has been a big help.”

I hung up. I trotted out to the sedan. I headed west, for Hill Street. It was dark and beginning to drizzle again. I drove slowly now, checking the rear vision mirror. If I was being followed, I couldn’t see any of the signs.

Even so, I moved carefully. Darkness was the time when the filth squeezed out of the woodwork in this part of town. It was the time when men like Minto and Pooly operated best. And the fact that I hadn’t seen Minto didn’t make me think that he had given me up. I figured he was just waiting for me to come back to Hill Street.

I parked on Second, the nose of the car at the edge of the alley. I went into the Blue Beagle by the back door. I climbed the stairs. I passed Teddy’s red door and stopped before Hoxey’s. I rapped with my fist.

I got the echo of silence. I hammered harder. The red door opened. I turned and saw Teddy.

She was wearing a wrapper. Her face was puffed with sleep. She looked peeved.

“Can’t you let people get their sleep?”

I said, “I want Hoxey and I want him fast.”

“Get out of here, McKeon, or I’ll call the cops and give them that film Hoxey took.”

“Go ahead. If he’s willing to swap the rest of his life and about five years of yours for the fun of having the police laugh at him, go ahead.”

“You bastard!” she screamed. “You cocky bastard!”

I said, “Making love noises will get you nowhere, Teddy darlin'. Now tell me where Hoxey is.” I took a step toward her.

She started to curse me some more. Then she stopped and stared at my hands. I had them in front of me, ready to grab her. She took a step backward. She slammed her door inches from my nose.

“I’m big enough to break that down.”

She said through the panel, “Hoxey is with Nick Calumet.”

I said, “Try again. Calumet told me he fired Hoxey because you wouldn’t steer your customers to his place.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Teddy said. “But Hoxey called an hour or so ago. He said he was with Nick. Now leave me alone.”

She was so burned up at me that I could hear the truth in her voice. She was too mad to be acting. I turned and trotted down the stairs. I looked up and down the dark length of the alley cautiously. I thought I might be safer where there was more light. Then I remembered what the DA had said. If I went onto Hill Street, I could end up in a squad car.

I tackled the darkness.

It was empty. I passed Arch’s rear door. I reached Calumet’s. In the old days, when Joe Rome owned the place, the door had always been unlocked. It was a convenient way for a certain type of customer to get into the back rooms without being seen out front. There had been a rabbit warren of rooms then; the bar girls used them as places to “rest” while they waited for customers.

The door was locked now. I thought that was interesting. I took my key ring out of my pocket and went to work on the lock. The third key worked. I eased the door open and stepped into the musty old rear hall. I shut the door behind me.

I tried some of the doors that opened onto the hall. They were all locked until I came to the one that led to Calumet’s office. That opened. I walked in.

Calumet was seated behind his desk. He was smiling. He could afford to smile. He had a gun in his hand. It was pointed at me. He said, “Close the door.”

“I thought you didn’t like guns, Nick.” I closed the door.

“You made a lot of noise opening that back door,” he said. He didn’t say why he’d suddenly grown fond of a gun. But I could guess.

I said, “I want Hoxey, not you.”

“I told you he doesn’t work here any more.”

“He was here last night, Nick. And Teddy Jenner told me not five minutes ago that he’s here now.”

Calumet just shook his head. He looked confident with the gun in his hand and his wrist supported by the edge of the desk. It was a position he could hold for quite a while without getting tired.

He said, “Why so eager to see Hoxey, McKeon?”

“I have some questions to ask him.”

“The same ones you asked me?”

This conversation wasn’t telling him or me anything. I had the feeling that he was sparring for time. To give Minto and Pooly a chance to pick me up? To give Hoxey time to put a lot of distance between him and me?”

I wondered what Calumet would do if I tried leaving. I took a backward step. The muzzle of the gun lifted a fraction of an inch.

Calumet said, “You didn’t answer my question, McKeon. That isn’t polite.”

I took another step. The gun muzzle lifted higher. I reached behind me and put my hand on the doorknob.

He said, “Sit down, McKeon.”

“And wait for your pals? For Minto and Pooly? Or give Hoxey a chance to get away?”

He made an effort to look blank. I said, “You haven’t got the guts to use that gun, Nick. You might try going for me with your knife, if you were mad enough or scared enough. But you won’t pull that trigger just to keep me from leaving.”

He pulled the trigger.

He moved the gun first. The bullet went into the ceiling above the door. Tiny bits of wood drifted down on me.

I stared at Calumet. He stared back. I don’t know which of us was more surprised. His hand was shaking. He had scared himself.

I said, “Don’t do that again. You might hit something.”

He touched his lips with the tip of his tongue. “It wasn’t as tough as I thought it would be,” he said. “Next time I won’t pull up.”

His eyes were a little wild. I walked away from the door and toward a chair. I started to sit down and changed my mind. Someone was coming down the hall. I could hear heels clicking in fast tempo. The doorknob turned and the door swung open.

Stephanie took a single step into the room. She stopped and stared, wide-eyed, at the gun in Calumet’s hand. Her head swung to the side. Her eyes focused on me.

“Thank heaven, I found you!” she said.

Calumet said, “Who the hell is this, McKeon?”

I ignored him. I said to Stephanie, “What’s up?”

“The police are looking for you.”

“The DA already told me that.”

She said, “Oh.” She sounded a little hurt that I already knew.

I glanced toward Calumet. He was looking interested. He was also doing a good job of examining Stephanie. She was wearing a knit suit. It fit very tightly.

He said thoughtfully, “I could be quite a hero if I held you for the cops, couldn’t I, McKeon?”

I shrugged. I lit a cigaret. I walked over to his desk. I dropped my match in an ashtray half-full of butts. I didn’t even bother to tell him he was bluffing. That he wasn’t in any position to call the police.

I tipped one edge of the ashtray. I slid my fingers under the bottom. I lifted my hand and pushed the ashtray as if it was a 16-pound shot.

Ashes and butts went for Calumet’s face. I went right after them. I swung my left arm as I dove. My knuckles caught his gun and sent it spinning. I grabbed a handful of hair with my right hand. He clawed at my arm. His hair was slippery with grease. It slid out of my fingers.

His swivel chair went over backward, taking him with it.

I left him on the floor. I straightened up and pushed Stephanie toward the door.

We moved. Calumet made no effort to follow us. We went back into the alley. With the hall door closed, the damp darkness folded around us. There was no sound but that of our breathing.

Stephanie said, “What are you going to do now, Jeff? Where can you hide?”

“I’m not about to hide, dollbaby. I have work to do. I’ve got to find that damn Hoxey Creen. Teddy Jenner steered me over here. Maybe she wasn’t lying, but I’ve got to make sure.”

“But what if they catch you?” she demanded. “Lieutenant Maslin isn’t stupid. He’ll guess you’ve come here.”

“I’d rather be caught here than dragged out of some damn hole I’m trying to hide in.”

She didn’t say any more. We started walking back down the alley toward the rear of the Blue Beagle. A short way beyond Arch’s rear door, I stopped. Light was filtering down through the mist, making a yellowish pattern on the slime of the alley floor. I looked upward. One of Hoxey’s windows overlooked the alley. The light was coming through that window.

I said, “Listen, do me a favor. It’s late enough now so that Teddy Jenner should be working. Go into the Blue Beagle and keep an eye on her. If she looks like she’s heading for upstairs, try to detain her.”

“All right,” Stephanie said. She sounded dubious.

“If the cops do catch me, don’t mix in. Stay clear of trouble. The DA wouldn’t appreciate having both of us mixed up in this.”

“All right,” she said again.

We reached the rear door of the Blue Beagle. I showed Stephanie the way into the hall leading to the big room. I waited until she was through the door. Then I climbed the stairs.

I paused by Teddy’s red door. I rapped lightly. There was no answer. I was fairly certain she had gone downstairs to work. I walked on to Hoxey’s door. I lifted my hand to knock.

I dropped my arm. The door was cracked open about two inches. I gave it a light push. It swung back toward the wall. I looked into the room.

It was more of a mess than the last time I had seen it. It had been torn apart. The guts were spilled out of everything; the mattress, the one dresser, the padded chair, the battered sofa. The few magazines and books Hoxey owned were ripped apart.

I hiked through the litter and turned into the open doorway leading to Hoxey’s combination bathroom-kitchen. The hotplate was still on top of the flush tank. The rim of the tub was still as it had been the first time I had seen it: a dust collector. Hoxey had never bathed here as far as I knew.

I stepped closer and drew aside the shower curtain for a better look. I saw that I was wrong. Hoxey finally had used the bathtub.

He had used it to die in.

He was kneeling in the tub. One hand was pressed against the dirty inside rim. The other hand was reaching upward. His fingers had closed around the towel rack screwed into the large imitation tiles of the bathroom wall. He almost looked as if he was trying to pull himself to his feet.

His head was down, the back toward me, the chin sunk toward his chest. I could see the marks of a savage beating on his head and neck. It was the same kind of beating Johnny Itsuko had taken.

Only I didn’t think Hoxey had died from being beaten. His own broken-handled butcher knife had been driven into his back.

I looked into the tub to see if the killer had left his weapon or any part of it. There was nothing but a heavy bar of kitchen soap. A crumpled towel lay half under Hoxey’s lower hand, half under one knee.

I raised my head and followed the line of his raised arm, up to where the fingers grasped the towel rack. I saw that they weren’t really on the rack at all. They were clasped around the square metal fitting that screwed to the wall. Hoxey’s wrist was bent over as if he had been trying to twist the fitting sideways.

My leg touched his side. The balance of his body changed and he began to fall backward. His lifted hand was still clasping the towel rack fitting. And as his body rocked back, the big tile holding the fitting came loose.

The entire rack swivelled away on one end. The tile that came loose from the wall left a hole about six inches square. I could see the hammered edges of a large tin can that fit the hole. And I could see the ends of some papers that were in the tin can.

Hoxey hadn’t been trying to pull himself up. He had been trying to open his homemade safe.

I pried his fingers loose from the fitting. He slipped soggily down into the tub. I reached across him and put my hand in the hole. I reached twice before I had the can cleaned out.

I pushed the tile back into place. By turning the fitting, I locked the towel rack rigidly into position. I had to give Hoxey credit. I hadn’t suspected him of being so ingenious.

I looked at what I had taken from the safe: thin sheets of legal-looking paper and dictating machine tape like those the county and city used. And a roll of film.

I put the tape and film in my pocket. I unfolded the sheets of paper. I needed only one glance to realize that I had finally found the papers that had been missing from the file in the Real Estate Records room. These papers were what Johnny Itsuko had been hiding when I walked up to him that day. And Hoxey had taken them.

BOOK: The Duchess of Skid Row
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Claire Delacroix by The Scoundrel
Needle by Goodman, Craig
Nothing but the Truth by John Lescroart
How To Bed A Baron by English, Christy
North! Or Be Eaten by Andrew Peterson
Romance Book Club by Hughes, Michelle
Anywhere by Jinsey Reese, J. Meyers
Guilty Pleasures by Kitty Thomas
Boxcar Children 56 - Firehouse Mystery by Warner, Gertrude Chandler, Charles Tang