I'll Get You For This (22 page)

  "Oh yes," he said. "They go very fully into that subject in a chapter called 'Sex and the Selfcontrolled Man'."

  I whistled. "I'd like to read that," I said. "Maybe I'd get something out of it too."

  He said he'd be glad to lend it to me any time, got to his feet and prepared to duck out.

  "Just a second," I said, pointing to his cocoa-coloured hat "Don't think I'm being critical, but is it wise to wear a lid like that? There's nothing wrong with the hat itself. It's a pretty snappy effort, but if you're following anyone, isn't it a little conspicuous? You can see it a mile off."

  He positively beamed.

  "That's the idea, Mr. Cain," he said. "This is a special line that goes with the course. Actually, it's a trick hat." He took the cocoa-coloured atrocity off his head, whipped off the band, gave the hat a shake and it turned inside out. He reversed the band. He now had a fawn hat with a red and yellow striped band. "Smart, isn't it?" he said. "You see, it keeps people guessing. I personally think the hat is worth the money I paid for the whole course. It's included in the charge."

  When he had gone, Tim said, "For crying out loud!" He reached for the Scotch and gave himself a generous shot. He shoved the bottle over to me. "Here, buck yourself up with this."

  I waved the bottle away. "Not for me," I said. "I gotta watch my powers of observation."

Early the next morning, Tim and I took a trip to Miami, some seventy miles from Paradise

Palms. We went in Tim's Mercury convertible, and the trip didn't take us more than ninety minutes.

  I called in on the Federal Field Office, leaving Tim in the car outside.

  The Federal Agent was named Jack Hoskiss. He was a big, beefy guy, with a shock of blueblack hair, a big fleshy face and humorous eyes. He stood up behind his desk, offered a moist hand.

  I didn't beat about the bush. "I'm Chester Cain," I said.

  He nodded, said he recognized me, and what could he do?

  I stared at him. "I'm supposed to have killed three guys," I reminded him. "Don't you want to make anything of it?"

  He shook his head. "When Paradise Palms Police Department call us in, we'll do something about it," he said, offering me a cigar. "Right now, it's off our beat."

  I eyed him over. "Your job is to hold me anyway," I said.

  "Don't make it hard for yourself," he returned, grinning. "You don t have to tell me my job. We have an idea what you're after." He glanced out of the window, smiled to himself. "We might be after the same thing."

  I grinned. "That guy Killeano is nobody's love child."

  "It beats me why he hasn't yet made a false move," Hoskiss said. "We've been watching him for months, but so far he's been smart. I'd like to get something on him."

  "So would I," I said, and slid the five-dollar bill Davis had given me across the desk. "That might interest you."

  He looked at it without picking it up, looked at me. raised his eyebrows.

  "What's the idea?"

  "Look at it. It won't bite."

  He picked it up, examined it. Then he sat up, bringing his chair straight with a crash. He was interested all right.

"Where did you get this?" he snapped.

"Found it," I said. "There're a lot floating around Paradise Palms."

  "Yeah," he said savagely. He opened a drawer, took out a box and produced a bunch of notes. He compared the one I'd given him, grunted, put it in the box with the others. "They're good, aren't they?" he said grudgingly. "We've been after that gang for months. But up to now we haven't a lead. No idea where it came from?"

  "I might make a guess," I said.

  He waited, but I didn't enlarge on it.

  "Where?" he asked, when he was sure I'd need persuasion.

  I drew on the cigar, blew smoke on to the desk. "I have a proposition to discuss with you."

  A thin smile played on his lips. "I thought you might have," he said, nodding. "Shoot."

  I told him the story from the time I had hit Paradise Palms. I left Mitchell out of it and where Miss Wonderly was, the rest of it I gave him straight.

  He sat huddled in his chair, a blank look m his eyes, and listened. When I was through, he whistled soundlessly.

  "Why didn't that fool Herrick come to us?" he said bitterly. "We'd've given him all the protection he needed, and helped him clean up. I love these smart guys who hope to surprise us with a completed case."

  "He didn't come to you, but I have," I reminded him gently.

  He looked me over. "Well, what now?"

  "I'm tired of being the fall guy," I said, flicking ash on the floor. "I'm going to bust Paradise Palms wide open." I pointed a ringer at him. "That's why I've come to you."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Go on," he said.

  "Two things, both of them Federal business: smuggling aliens into the country and counterfeiting."

  "Where'll that get you with Killeano?"

  I smiled. "That's my end of it. I'm not giving you all the work to do; just part of it."

  "Go on."

  "Tonight a boat will unload a parcel of Cubans at Pigeon Key. They'll be leaving Havana around nine o'clock. The boat's a thirty-footer, painted dark green, no mast, no outriggers, broken windshield in the pilot house. I'll be glad if you'd take care of it."

  "Sure?"

  "Sure, I'm sure. It's a hot tip."

  "Okay, I'll take care of it."

  "Another thing. I want Killeano to get the credit for the tip-off. Davis will handle the publicity. Okay with you?"

  He frowned. "What's the idea?"

  "Just part of the little plot," I said. "Is it worth your while playing along with me if I turn over the counterfeiting plant and the boys who work it?"

  "It might be," he said cautiously. "You seem to know a hell of a lot about this business, Cain. Suppose you open out. And don't think you can use this office to further your own interests, because you can't."

  "Now you sound just like a cop," I returned. "Look, I'm giving you a boat full of undesirable Cubans, and I'm going to show you where this dud money comes from. Where's your gratitude?"

  He grinned. "Well, okay," he said, "but don't start anything we can't finish."

  "I wouldn't do that," I said. "Come to Paradise Palms on Thursday night. Meet me at 46 Waterside at eleven o'clock and come prepared for trouble. If you can arrange to have some of your boys within reach, so much the better, but they are not to show until trouble starts."

He stared. "What's the idea? That joint's a brothel. Why there?"

I winked at him. "Don't you ever relax, brother?" I asked as I made for the door..

  Six o'clock the following morning, Davis came bursting into my bedroom. I woke with a start, grabbed my gun from under my pillow, saw who it was, sank back.

  "That's the way guys meet with accidents," I said crossly, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

  "I like that," Davis snorted. "I've been slaving all through the night and come over here to show you how bright I am, and you talk of accidents."

  I yawned, lit a cigarette, sat up in bed.

  "All right," I said. "Shoot."

  He handed me a copy of the Morni
ng Star.

  "It's all there," he said proudly. "Careful how you handle it, the print ain't dry yet. Howja like it ?" He sat on the foot of the bed, breathing heavily, his eyes alight with excitement. "Gawd knows what Killeano will do to the editor when he sees it. Gawd knows what the editor will do to me if he ever finds out Killeano never said a word of what I've said he said. But this is the way you wanted it, and you've got it that way."

  "My pal," I said, and read the banner headlines:

CITY ADMINISTRATOR SWOOPS

NEW POLICE CHIEF'S LIGHTNING ATTACK ON ALIEN SMUGGLERS

Mysterious Motor-Launch Sunk by Gunfire

  Late last night, Ed. Killeano, Paradise Palms' City Administrator, in his new capacity of Chief of Police, struck a crippling blow at the Alien smuggling racket.

  Too long has this notorious scandal openly flourished along the coast of our fair city. We, representing the citizens of Paradise Palms, are proud to be one of the first to congratulate the new Chief of Police for tackling this racket so courageously and with such speed. It should be remembered that the former Chief of Police made no attempt to suppress the smuggling racket, and it is all the more to Ed. Killeano's credit that he has taken such prompt action when only being in office a few hours.

  In an exclusive interview with the
Morning Star,
Killeano said that he was determined to clean up Paradise Palms once and for all. "Now I have taken over the job of Chief of Police," he said, "I am showing no mercy to the racketeers hiding in our City. I am going to smoke them out. Let them be warned. I appeal to my supporters to return me to Office so that I can complete the task I have already begun. This is only a beginning."

  Acting on information from a secret source, the new Chief of Police ordered Coast Guards to seize a mysterious motor-launch operating off Pigeon Key. A desperate battle ensued, and the motor-launch was sunk, but not before some twelve Cuban nationals lost their lives . . . .

  There was a lot more in this vein, photographs of the boat half in and half out of the water, of Killeano and the Coast Guards. It was a nice piece of work, and I told Davis so.

  "But wait until Killeano sees it," he said, scratching his head vigorously. "When he realizes how he's been committed, he'll have the shock of his life."

  "I guess he will," I said, jumping out of bed. "And there isn't a thing he can do about it. This is terrific propaganda for his election campaign. He daren't deny he sold Gomez out: not even to Gomez. And if he did, Gomez wouldn't believe him."

  I scrambled into my clothes.

  "Where are you going at this ungodly hour?" Davis demanded. "I've never seen such an energetic guy. Me—I'm dead on my feet."

  "Hop into bed, then," I said. "After that write-up I wouldn't deny you anything. I have a date with Gomez."

  "Yeah?" Davis said, kicking off his shoes "Where do you think you'll find him at this hour?"

  "With Lois Spence," I said, making for the door. "If he isn't there, I can always look at the dame. She interests me."

  He took off his coat and stretched out on the bed. "She interests me too," he said with a sigh. "But not with that Gomez thug hanging around. He cools my ardour."

  I took Tim's Mercury convertible, drove out to Lexington Avenue. The night staff were still on duty, and I walked over to the hall porter's cubby-hole.

"Hello, dad," I said, smiling at the old boy. "Remember me?"

  He remembered me all right. There's nothing like a little folding money to impress your personality on anyone.

  "Yes, sir, "he said, brightening up. "I remember you very well, sir."

  "I thought you would," I said, and looked round to make sure no one was watching us. I produced a fifty-dollar bill, folded it slowly, giving him ample time to see it, then hid it in my hand.

  His eyes started out of his head like organ stops

  "Gomez with Miss Spence?" I asked casually.

  He nodded. There was nothing casual about his nod.

  "Both tucked up together with nothing between them but their dreams?" I went on.

  "I wouldn't know about their dreams, sir," he said, shaking his head. "I don't think I should want to know about them. Hut they're up there all right."

  "That's fine. I'd like to drop in and see them. Kind of surprise them," I said, eyeing him "Would there be a pass-key to their room within reach?"

  He stiffened. "I couldn't do that, sir," he said, shocked. "I'd lose my job."

  I looked at the row of keys hanging on hooks behind him.

  "Now I wonder which it would be," I said. "I'd pay fifty bucks for that information, providing you took a short walk after you've told me."

  He struggled with his finer feelings, but the fifty bucks made short work of them.

  He turned, lifted a key from a hook, put it down on the counter.

  "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I couldn't do it. I have my job to consider."

  I slid him the fifty bucks.

  "Okay, but you'd better stick to this," I told him. "If you and I work together much longer, you'll be buying your own apartment block."

  He snapped up the note, eased his collar, came out of his office.

  "If you'll pardon me," he said, "I have to check on the mail deliveries." He hurried across the lobby without looking back.

  It didn't take me longer than it'd take you to blink to pick up the pass-key. I walked over to the elevator, rode up to the fourth floor.

  Apartment 466 was silent and in semi-darkness. I pulled my .38, held it in my fist. I had no intention of being jumped by Gomez.