"Love's Lovely Counterfeit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cain James M.)Chapter 2Next afternoon, when Ben reported to work, Sol was in high good humor. He indulged in a little heavy-handed kidding, played a new swing record, and in other small ways tried to atone for his behavior of the previous night. Presently he said: "And was "Yeah? How?" "Them guys. That you seen with Jansen." "Oh? You know who they were?" "I had that license checked. The one you give me last night. I sent a special wire to Chicago, and I just now got a reply. You know who that car belonged to?" "I got no idea." "Frankie Horizon." "Well, say-and he looked like another Swede." "How many times I got to tell you, you can't go by their looks. Frankie Horizon-and him and Delany are just like that." Sol held up two fingers to indicate a close degree of intimacy, as Ben stared incredulously. Compassionately, then, Sol shook his head. "I don't know what I'm going to do about you, Ben." "How you mean, Sol?" "Them Illinois plates. Didn't they mean nothing to you?" "Well-plenty people live in Illinois." "Wise money has generally got Illinois plates." "I'll try to remember?' "It's O.K.-if you could remember something you wouldn't be driving a car, for me or anybody. And, you found out what I wanted, so take tomorrow off." "Well, gee, thanks, Sol." "That's a promise. Go on, make a date." In the big room, however, Lefty seemed even more dejected, if that were possible, than he had been yesterday. He sat tipping one key of the piano, and when Ben presently asked him to cut it out, he announced: "He's going to die." "Who's going to die?" "That kid. That got it at Castleton yesterday." "How you know he's going to die?" "That doc, the look on his face." "Where's the kid shot?" "In the hip." "Did the doc get the bullet out?" "It came in and went out. The guard, before they got out of the bank, had time to grab his rifle, and it was with that that the kid got it, just a little hole that went right through. He's not in any pain. He thinks he's going to be moving soon. But the other three, they can see him behind, where he's turning black. They're getting jittery. They're getting worse than I am." The shrug that Ben gave was perhaps more indifferent than one would expect, on a warm afternoon, at a piece of news of at least average quality, with nothing else to talk about. It was matched by the yawn he gave next morning, when Lefty arrived at the Lucas before he was up, and sat on the edge of the bed, and furnished a few more details. "His temperature's up, Ben. He's beginning to rave. And the other three, I don't know what they'll pull. They're liable to conk him to make him shut up or something. They're not old-timers. They're just kids. They don't know what to do when a guy gets it. And the hotel, they're turning on the heat." "Can't you get him out of there?" "Where to?" It was at this point that Ben yawned, and Lefty went on: "What am I going to do, Ben? He's going to die, and what am I going to do with him? I can't serve no more time. I can't take it. I was already stir crazy, a little bit…" "Dogged if I know what to tell you." When Lefty went, Ben got up, held the door on a crack, and peeped down the hall, to make sure he was really gone. Then, on his outside phone, he dialed a number and asked for Miss Lyons-Miss June Lyons. A girl slowing down as a man held up a newspaper, the man climbing into the car she was driving, the two of them going on at the change of the light-it looked casual enough, yet it had been planned by Ben, and carried out by her, in such fashion as to make it impossible that they should be followed. She was driving Mr. Jansen's big green sedan, and for a few moments they studied each other. Then he laughed. "Hey, cut that out. Smile. Relax." "You mean the frown?" "It's just terrible." "That's what my mother always says." "You must have had it a long time if she's always saying." "It comes from taking things seriously." "What things?" "Oh-this and that." "Not Jansen?" "Well, why not Jansen?" "I wouldn't think he'd appeal to you. Fact of the matter, ever since I heard you make that speech the other night, I've been wondering why you're hooked up with him. You look serious enough, but you don't look dumb enough." "Well, Jansen isn't really what I meant." "And what did you mean?" "Something personal." "Romance?" "I'd hardly take She was smiling now, and her face lighted up quite pleasantly, though there was" still something solemn about it, as though back of any light idea that entered her mind there would always be some sobering consideration. He smiled a little too, and said: "If it's not love it's got to be money." "It might be a little of both, but not the way you mean. Since my frown seems to interest you, and my connection with Mr. Jansen seems to interest you, they both have to do with my family, and it's a long story, and not at all exciting, and I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind." "Your family live here?" "Do "Looks like we got a little dead-end there." "If, as you said over the phone, I'm not to ask questions about who you are, or anything about you, then don't ask questions about me, or my family, or where they live. What is this business you and I have, anyway? After that call, the very least I expected was a blue chin and a broken nose." "You disappointed?" "A little." "I called about Jansen." "Oh, the dumb candidate." "He's dumb, but outside of Maddux he's the only candidate we've got, anyway, that's got his papers filed. So I've been looking him over. So I've been thinking it might be a good idea if he was elected, or perhaps I should say, if Maddux was defeated." "And?" "I'm kicking in with a little dirt." "I'd rather have money, but-" "You'll settle for dirt. You know the Castleton robbery?" "The bank?" "That's it. Suppose friend Jansen found out where that mob was hiding. Suppose he found out they were here, in Lake City, under protection of Caspar and the police department. Suppose he found out the exact hotel. Could he use it?" Not waiting for a reply, Ben took out an envelope, tore off the back, and wrote down four names. "There they are. They're at the Globe Hotel, Room 38, a double room with two extra cots moved in. That last guy, Rossi, the one I checked, is shot. He's going to die, so if Jansen is going to use this he better do it quick. When he does die, the other three will certainly skip." Ben was obviously surprised at the hostile stare she turned on him. With an ironical laugh she said: "You must have gone to college, didn't you? To think up one like that?" "Like what, for instance?" "It's criminal libel, that's all-if Mr. Jansen mentions the name of the hotel, and not worth a plugged dime if he doesn't. And coming now, just a week before election, it's a trick, I would say, to send Mr. Jansen to the polls under indictment, and perhaps even under arrest. To say nothing of what could be done to his business and property in the civil action, later." "You're a smart girl, aren't you?" "Oh, I went to college too. And law school." "You' re about as dumb a girl as any candidate ever had back of him. Here I offer you dirt, and the first thing you tell me is that you'd rather have money. Well June, there comes a time when money's not enough. You've got to have dirt-not nice clean dirt, like calling names and all this stuff Jansen has been handing out. Dirty dirt. Dirt that stinks so bad something has to be done about it. And here I offer you some, with more to come, much as you want, enough to break Caspar and all the rest of them, and all you see in it is criminal libel. I guess you belong with Jansen, come to think of it. And now suppose we go back. Sitting this close to you makes me feel a little sick to my stomach." She drove a little further, her face getting redder and redder. Then she turned around, and when they came to a car track he motioned her to stop. When he got out he didn't say goodbye. After dinner, he walked slowly down Hobart Street, looking at movie notices, but none of them seemed to suit him. He went back to his hotel, entered his room, and lay down, first removing his coat and hanging it in the closet. In a moment or two his fingers found the radio, which was tucked on the second deck of the night table, and turned it on. For the better part of an hour he lay there, the light off, listening to dinner music from the Columbus. Then the Jansen meeting came in, and he scowled, starting to turn it off. Then he changed his mind and lay there listening, his face a sombre shadow in the half dark, while the same old speeches came in that he had listened to at the high school. When June was introduced he made a second motion to cut the radio off, and again changed his mind. Then suddenly he sat up in bed, and snapped on the light, and listened with rapt attention. She was talking about the hook-up, the alliance between crime, the Mayor, and the police, and even the crowd sensed that she was leading up to something. Then with breath-taking suddenness it came: "You think there's no hook-up, do you? You think that's something The snarl from the crowd had an echo of the wolf pack in it, but June shouted over it: "Will somebody stop that officer? The one that's trying to get out, to telephone?" Evidently the officer stopped, for there was a big laugh, and June said: "There's no use warning those boys, officer. You see, after I talked to Chief Dietz I called Castleton, and the Castleton detectives are at the hotel right now, and I think they'll move a little too fast for you to stop them-a little official kidnapping, so to speak. It's the only way, apparently, to bring murderers to trial under the conditions we have in Lake City." An exultant light in his eye, Ben snapped off the radio. Then, moving with catlike silence, he went to the door, jerked it open. The hall was empty. Then he put on his coat, picked up his hat, and went out to the Tracy picture at the Rialto. When he came in, Mr. Nerny, the elderly night clerk, was signaling with one hand. "Call for you, Mr. Grace. Party was just about to hang up when I told them I was quite sure I recognized your step. Take it down here if you like." Into the house phone, Ben said: "Hello?" "Mr. Grace?" "Speaking." "This is your friend that takes things seriously." "Who?" "The one you went riding with, today." "Oh yes. I'll call you later. Goodbye." Hanging up, he shot a glance at Mr. Nerny, but Mr. Nerny had put aside his earphones, and apparently had heard nothing. Upstairs, he paced about, and started to take off his clothes. But the knowledge that this girl knew who he was evidently threw him badly off step, and presently he clapped on his hat and went out. "What was the idea, calling me?" "Well, it was pretty successful, what I did. What you did. What-we did. I thought, after the way I acted today, the least I could do was call you and thank you." "Over that hotel phone?" "Oh, I was going to be careful." "On a night like this, when we set off five tons of dynamite in this town, you were going to let a night clerk hear you being careful?" "Is it as melodramatic as that?" "Yeah." He turned away from her, and became aware of the apart-ment she lived in. It was a bare little place, almost shabby, on the second floor of a small apartment house. To one side was a dining alcove, and a double door looked as though a bed might lurk behind it. He had not got up here without an argument through the door phone, for it was at least one o'clock in the morning, and when she finally let him up, she made him wait five minutes while she put on these lounging pajamas that she now wore. They were dark red, and certainly becoming, but he paid no attention to them. As she continued to smile, he seized her roughly by the arm and asked: "What's so funny about this melodrama thing?…O.K., they shoot off blanks, and I guess that's funny. But Caspar, he don't shoot off blanks. When he shoots, he throws lead. Is that funny? Go on, let's see you laugh." She tried to pull her arm away, but he gave it another shake. "And how'd you find out who I am, by the way?" "I don't see that that matters." "Oh yes. It matters." She turned to a table, opened a drawer, and took out a piece of paper. "When you tear up envelopes to write on, you might burn the part that has your name and address on it, or put it back in your pocket, or something. You were in such a hurry to jump out of the car today that you left this on the seat." "And who did you show it to?" "Nobody." "And who did you tell about it?" "Nobody." "Come on! How about Jansen?" "About you, I've told nothing, and I can prove it." "O.K., prove." "Were you there? At the meeting?" "I heard it." "You noticed I made that announcement myself?" "Saving Jansen from criminal libel?" "After I called Dietz and made sure that what you told me was true, I didn't have to worry about libel. No, I was thinking about myself. I was making sure that I, and nobody else, got the credit. I wanted to be certain that Mr. Jansen, if he gets elected, will have to do a lot more about me in the shape of a job than he would have to do if I was just a girl that handled secretaries, and had slips filled out. In that case I wouldn't be telling anybody the source of my information, would I? You see, I'm hoping for He sat down and studied her intently. Relaxing, she sat down, not far away, on the same hard little sofa. Suddenly he asked: "Outside of my name, do you know who I am?" "No." "I'm Sol Caspar's driver." "Then-you're Sol Caspar's driver." "And that's O.K. with you?" "It certainly gilt-edges your tips." "And it don't bother you that I drive for him six days a week and then on my day off I call you up and give you tips?" "I'm willing to believe you have your reasons." "I got plenty of reasons." "Then-I'm glad to know that." "I'd rather fight him clean, right out in the open, the way you fight him. I'd be perfectly willing to quit my job, and tell him straight out what I'm up to, than knife him in the back this way. But if I could quit my job I wouldn't be fighting him at all. I'm not looking for trouble. He even laughs at me because I don't "I'm "O.K. Now who are you?" "Nobody." "Listen, I've got to know." "I was born in Ohio, and raised there, just across the river from Kentucky. I went to school there, and high school, and college, and law school. Then I heard of a job in Lake City, and applied for it, and got it, and came here." "What kind of a job?" "With a law firm, Wiener, Jacks, and Myers. They pay me a salary, about as good a salary as young lawyers get, more than you might think from this." She waved her hand at the apartment. "I only keep part of my salary for myself. And-I've got to have still more money. I simply must have it." "Why you more than somebody else?" "I told you it's a long story." "More family history?" "It's been going on a long time, and I'd rather not go into it. Anyway, Jansen came along. I'd done a little work for him, settling claims. And he was thinking about running for Mayor. And I was thinking about a job, one of those heavenly city hall jobs where you come down once a week to sign papers, and hold your regular job just the same. And-I guess I egged him on." "For the dough?" "Not entirely. I think he's a fine man, fit to be Mayor, a hundred times better than Maddux. Just the same-" "The dough is the main thing?" "Now I feel like a heel." "No need to feel that way. Listen, if it was just idealism, I might give you tips, but I'd be plenty worried. I don't believe in that stuff, and I don't believe in people that do believe in it. Now I know it's the old do-re-mi, that's different. O.K., June. We can do business." "I'm afraid it "You said it was dough." "Yes, but not to have it, or spend it, or whatever people do with it. Money, just as money, doesn't mean much to me. But as a means to an end, as something that will permit me to deal with-a certain situation-" "Back home?" "It might be. Well, money for that purpose is important to me. Then it will mean something to me." "Are you out to get it or not?" "Indeed I am." "That's all I want to know." She got the solemn frown on her face again, as though she wanted to make clear that it was no ordinary greed that prompted her present activities, but he ran his finger up the crease between her brows. She laughed. "I want to be an idealist." "O.K., so I'm a chiseler." "Oh, say "A chiseler, he's not a crook." "He certainly isn't honest." "He's just in between." Two days before, when Lefty had said it, Ben had obviously been annoyed. Now, just as obviously, he was beginning to be proud of it. She laughed. "Anyway, we're both walloping Caspar. "I hope we are." "But look She got a paper from the alcove, and came back with it. It was a midnight edition, and all over the front page was the story of how the Castleton detectives had raided the Globe Hotel and grabbed three of the bandits without bothering to get in touch with the Lake City police. Ben seemed surprised that only three bandits were bagged, and she explained: "The other one, the one that was shot, had been taken away before the Castleton police got there." "Alive?" "We think so." He was already reading the news story, but she pointed to the editorial, also on Page 1, and he read it with her, their heads nearly touching. It attacked Castleton savagely, but went on to say that the charges made by Miss June Lyons, a speaker at the Jansen meeting, were too serious to be ignored. An investigation of the Lake City police department should be made, and if Mayor Maddux wouldn't act, the Governor ought to. "It's the first time, Mr. Grace-" "Call me Ben." "It's the first time, Ben, that either of the big papers has taken us seriously. The little "You "I'll say I am." She was breathless, tense, eager. For a second their eyes met, and it seemed queer that he suddenly got up, instead of taking her in his arms, which he certainly could have done. He stood uncertainly for a moment, then picked up his hat. "One thing." "Yes?" "Tell Jansen to put a private guard on here. Outside, at least two men, day and night. I'd do it, but they'd know me. Ring him soon as I go, and have him attend to it tonight. "All right, I'll call him." "I'll ring you tomorrow. With maybe more dirt." "I'll see you soon, Ben." "That's right. Soon." |
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