Stop This Man! (5 page)

“Don’t you want them, sir?”

“What’s that?”

“Your cigarettes, sir. Don’t you want them?”

He grabbed the pack out of her hand and gave her a bill. She smiled her thanks and slowly moved down the aisle in front of the bar. Catell could have sworn that she didn’t know he was staring at her.

He walked back to the couch where Paar was sitting next to Selma. She was smiling again, looking pretty good in the dim light. Paar’s hand was lying on her thigh. When Catell walked up Paar moved his hand away slowly, as if he didn’t care one way or the other.

“I see you got some cigarettes,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“I think I fixed your little quarrel very nicely, Tony, my boy. Selma is in a very good mood again and I don’t want you to spoil it for her.”

“Yeah?”

“He won’t,” Selma said, smiling at Paar. “He’s really a nice boy, aren’t you, lovin’ cup?” She had a brassy smile on her big face. “ ‘Scuse me, gents, while I do a little fixing.” She got out of the couch with an effort.

“Sit down, Catell, sit down. Selma and I have become great friends while you were gone. She tells me you’re leaving us. You have other interests, maybe?”

Ignoring Paar’s question, Catell jerked his head toward the blonde cigarette girl. “Who is she?”

“Selma is a little upset about your plans. Or at least she
was before she and I had our little talk. We both feel you should stick around, Tony.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“She’s only eighteen, Tony. Besides, she’s been spoken for. However, as I was saying—”

“We got no business, Paar. I told you I’ll only deal direct.”

“As you wish, Tony. But let me remind you, Selma is a very emotional woman. Ah, did you know that our little Lily is leaving us?”

“Who?”

“Lily. The young thing you’ve been admiring so. And as I’ve said, she’s been spoken for, Tony. She’s leaving for Los Angeles.”

“So what?”

“I think Selma mentioned something about your going to Los Angeles, or am I mistaken? Of course, Selma doesn’t know that Lily is going to Los Angeles, Tony.”

“And what if she does? What exactly are you trying to pull?”

“Just this, Catell: I think you might do better staying here. And, I repeat, if there is any way in which I can be of help to you—”

“Can it. Here’s Selma.”

When she sat down on the couch, Paar rose and turned to go.

“Don’t leave now, Paar honey,” said Selma, grabbing his sleeve. “Sit down for a minute and we’ll talk some more. With Tony here,” and she gave Catell a cocky smile.

“Later, dear Selma. We’ll all have a nice chat, I promise you.” Paar wasn’t smiling this time.

“Paar.” Catell’s voice was matter of fact. “Who are the two guys just came in the door?”

“Who?”

“Don’t jerk your head. By the door.”

Paar turned and glanced toward the entrance. Then he gave Catell a patronizing smile.

“You are jumpy, Tony. They come quite often. Local detectives looking in on a private club.”

Catell rose slowly. He put his hands in his pockets, turned his back to the cops, and looked casual.

“I’m blowing. Where’s the back door?”

“My dear Tony, this means absolutely nothing. Please sit down.”

“Shut up. I can’t be seen with Selma right now. Where’s the back?”

“Now, really, Tony boy.” Paar put his soft hand on Catell’s arm.

Catell stepped close. “Hear this, Paar. See to it I don’t tangle with your copper friends there. Keep them and anybody else you know out of my way. If you don’t, I’ll get you.”

Then he walked away, slowly, without turning. Paar’s big forehead was sticky with sweat.

Once through the swinging doors in the back, Catell turned quickly and glanced through the glass into the room he had just left. Paar was standing with the two cops, patting one of them on the back. Then they started to walk his way, chatting.

Catell turned away. He found himself in an empty kitchen with one light over the huge refrigerator. There was a door to the left. Catell went to the door, opened it, and stepped into a long hall. More doors. He picked one, opened it, and found himself in a small cubicle without windows. Pipes ran along the ceiling. There was a mop and bucket in one corner, and a clothes rack in the other.
A naked light bulb made a hard light, and under it stood Lily.

She had taken her shoes and stockings off and her hands were at her back, trying to undo the black corset. Catell closed the door behind him and she looked up, without recognition. “Hi,” Catell said.

“Hi.”

“Fancy meeting you here, Lily.” She didn’t answer. Only her eyes moved. “If you were going to scream, don’t,” Catell said. He turned the catch of the door. “I’m just staying a minute.” She looked at him, frowning, and put a hand to her breasts. “Please,” she said. “Please leave.”

Catell heard footsteps in the hall and leaned lightly against the door, both hands on the knob. “Not a word, kid.”

“Please, mister, I—”

Catell moved across the small room fast and clapped one hand over her mouth, holding her up against him with his other arm. He didn’t have to say any more. She saw his face grow stiff, mean, and she stayed very still.

After the footsteps had passed, Catell didn’t move right away. He felt her soft mouth under his hand and the curve of her thighs against him. Then he let her go. She stepped back, red marks showing on her face where his hand had been.

“Please go now.”

“Not yet.”

“Please, I have to change. I’m late.”

“Go ahead.”

“But I have to change, mister.”

“The name’s Tony.”

She bit her lip but didn’t say anything. One of the pipes along the ceiling started to hiss. Lily looked up and back
at Catell, who was still leaning against the door. Neither of them moved.

“Come on, go ahead and change. Don’t tell me you never been looked at.”

She stood in the middle of the bare room, under the hard light, her mouth trembling.

“Answer me,” Catell said.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“I said get undressed. It can’t be the first time.”

“I never—”

“You’re lying.”

“Never like this, I mean.”

“Fine. I like to be the first. Now get it off.”

She hesitated. He took a step toward her, looking at the girl with cold eyes. A muscle jumped in the side of his face. Lily shrank back, real fear in her eyes.

“Stay where you are. Under the light.”

Catell leaned against the door again and watched.

Lily arched her back, her hands fumbling for the zipper. Her eyes shone wet. When the zipper opened she let the corset drop. It rolled on the floor without losing its shape. Then Catell raised his eyes slowly. He saw her narrow ankles, her calves. She had full thighs that curved with a satiny sheen, wide round hips, and a sharp curve where her waist drew in. Catell chewed his lip but otherwise made no movement. He noticed that she had the same shape as she’d had in the corset, the skin of her body smooth and unmarked from the stays, and her breasts high. They were ripe, coming to impudent points, and they threw sharp shadows, which moved with her breathing. He looked at her face. She was very young.

“Turn around.”

She turned slowly, looking at him over her shoulder. “Now lie down.”

She lay down on the cold cement floor, legs drawn up. “Stretch out.”

She did. She pointed her toes, legs together, and put her arms over her head. All the while she looked at him with large eyes. Catell never moved from his place by the door. After a while he told her to get up. He walked over to her and brushed the lint from her naked back. Then he went back to the door.

“You can get dressed now, Lily.”

While she put her clothes on, Catell lit another cigarette and smoked without looking at her.

“May I go now?” Lily had stepped close to the door.

“Sure.”

He opened the door for her and let her pass. Just as she went by he grasped her arm and said, “I’m the first? Right, Lily?”

“Yes, mister.”

“Tony.”

“Yes, Tony.”

Their eyes held for a moment. Catell frowned.

“You’re a hard one.”

She started to smile, gave it up. “No,” she said.

Catell closed the door again. Lily waited.

“So why’d you do it, just like that?”

“I didn’t, just like that.”

“Why’d you do it?”

This time her small smile didn’t make it at all. “It didn’t hurt,” she said.

“What does?”

She smiled a moment. “Not much,” she said, and looked down at her feet.

“Lily.”

“Yes?”

“Your folks in L.A.?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. She said it in no special way, and that’s what gave it the meaning.

Catell didn’t ask any more. He opened the door, stepped back. When he put his hand on her arm again it surprised both of them.

“Lily.”

“Yes, Tony?”

“See you?”

“I’d like to,” she said.

She finished saying it and then went out. He closed the door behind her.

When he had smoked his cigarette he crushed it under his foot and walked back the way he had come. He didn’t see the two detectives, but Paar was standing by the swinging doors.

“You may come out now, Tony.” Paar smiled.

“They gone?”

“Yes. In fact, quite a while ago. And furthermore, I’m afraid you will have to go home alone. Selma has left, too. They took her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The detectives. They took her along for routine questioning about old Schumacher, it seems.”

Catell didn’t answer right away.

“Lily gone too?” He didn’t look at Paar.

“Why, yes. Tony. She had to make an early plane. L.A., you know. I think I mentioned it.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t mention, though, who she’s going to join. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of him, but his name
is Topper. And if I were you, Tony, I’d stay away from Topper.”

Catell left Paar standing there. He got his coat and took a taxi back to town. He left Detroit that same night, but first he stopped at Selma’s apartment and took the two thousand bucks that was there.

Paar didn’t like Catell very much. He didn’t understand him, and he didn’t have any patience with his kind. But Paar didn’t want Catell to come to any harm. Not yet, anyway.

After Catell had left the club, Paar walked slowly toward the bar, then changed his mind and went to his office. He closed the heavy door, took off his dinner jacket, and sat down behind his desk. Without his padding Paar looked narrow and stoop-shouldered. He put his hands on the large desktop and frowned. It would be very nice to let the cops pump Selma dry. The drunken slut would implicate herself and get locked out of the way. She would spill what it was Catell had hidden and Paar had enough pull to find out whatever the cops might get out of her. And finally they’d find out for sure whether she knew where Catell was going from here. If she didn’t know, then Paar would be happy to know that he didn’t have to bother with her. If she did know, the cops would get to him first, and Paar wouldn’t have a chance. The thought pained him, but he’d have to take Selma on himself.

Paar sighed, picked up the phone, and dialed a city number. A butler answered at the other end.

“Let me talk to him,” said Paar.

The butler knew Paar’s voice and said, “One moment, sir.”

Then a voice said, “What is it, Paar?”

“Two dicks hauled in a friend of mine, a woman. She’ll be at the Fifth Precinct house for questioning. Get her out…I know it’s two o’clock in the morning, but I want her out…No, just questioning. No warrant…I’ll be over there in half an hour to pick her up, so do what you have to do. She was picked up at my club. The men’s names are Porter and Levy. So long.”

Paar put down the phone, took his jacket and overcoat, and left the club. Twenty minutes later his chauffeur-driven limousine stopped in front of the Fifth Precinct police station. Paar entered the building with an affable smile for everyone; two drunks, one plainclothesman, and the desk sergeant. Paar leaned his elbow on the high desk and offered the policeman a cigarette.

“No, thank you, Mr. Paar. We haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“That’s true, Sergeant Stone.” Paar smiled at him. “Is the young lady ready?”

“I’m very sorry, Mr., Paar, they’re still questioning her.”

Paar’s neck got red and his voice didn’t sound polite. “Didn’t you get a call to release her?”

“Sure, Mr. Paar, but—”

“Well?”

The Sergeant leaned on his desk and lowered his voice. “Don’t try and throw your weight around, Paar. The Feds are in on this. They’re with her now.”

For a moment Paar was stunned. He recovered himself with an effort and asked, “What room?”

“Two-o-five.”

He went to the second floor and walked through the door of 205 without knocking. What he saw made him blanch. Four men were sitting around the figure by the table. It was Selma, head back, mouth open, eyes closed. One arm hung down limp.

“Who are you?” They turned around and looked at him.

“Come here,” said another one.

Paar stepped closer, staring at Selma. One of the four men leaned over from his chair and grabbed Paar.

“Under the light, Bud. Let’s take a look at you.”

Paar’s big forehead glistened and his berry eyes blinked. “Gentlemen, please. What—what have you done?”

“This is Freddie Paar, friends,” said one of the men. He was a detective out of the Fifth Precinct. The others were FBI.

“Freddie Paar is our local glamour boy of the dark, dark underworld. Name any smutty business, Paar is in it. Right, boy?” The man laughed.

With an effort Paar straightened his back. “I came to fetch this young lady and they sent me to this room. However, this shocking scene—”

“This shocking scene!” the detective said, and laughed. Paar turned to him with a face like poison. “I’m not without influence in this town. This outrage—”

“This outrage!” aped the man, and he doubled over with laughter.

“There are laws,” Paar said, his voice getting shrill. “Clubbing women into unconsciousness—”

At that point Selma began to snore. “Unconsciousness!” the man roared.

This made Selma start. She woke with a sick face, licking her dry lips.

“Selma,” Parr said. “What have they done to you?”

“Lovin’ cup.” Her voice was raspy.

The detective stopped laughing and got serious. “Lovin’ cup,” he said to Paar, “your friend here was drunk when she came in. She fell asleep.”

“You mean she hasn’t been questioned yet?”

A quiet voice from the end of the room said, “No.”
Herron stepped forward and looked at Paar. “And what is your interest in this matter, may I ask?”

“The young lady is a personal acquaintance, sir. She spent the evening at my club, and when I saw her leave with two detectives, naturally I got concerned and made inquiries.”

“With whom did she spend the evening?” Herron asked.

“I don’t know. Some young man or other.”

“Where is he?”

“I couldn’t tell you that, sir.”

“I think we’ll throw you out now, lovin’ cup,” said the detective. “Shall I throw him out, Herron?”

“No. Mr. Paar may stay. As soon as his lady friend has recovered, he’ll want to take her home, I’m sure.”

Paar was very anxious to take Selma home. He didn’t like Herron. Polite cops made him uncomfortable and Herron smelled like FBI.

“Selma, are you ready to leave?”

“Oh, Jaysis,” she said, holding her head.

“Did they annoy you, Selma? Question you?”

“Jaysis.”

Paar couldn’t make anything of that remark and it upset him. He straightened himself and looked at Herron. “I demand an explanation. What is this lady doing here?”

“She is suffering from a hangover,” the detective said.

“And we wanted some information from her about an acquaintance of hers,” Herron added.

“Well, you must realize by now that you’re wasting your time,” Paar said. “If I can be of any assistance—”

“No, thank you, Mr. Paar. Our information is complete, for the moment.”

“If you’re wondering about her escort, Mr. Catell has left town New York, I think.”

Herron shifted his head slightly and the man next to
him made notes on a stenographer’s pad in front of him.

“You didn’t know this?” said Paar, who had noticed the movement.

“No. We were actually interested in one Otto Schumacher.”

Paar cursed himself under his breath. Now they had Catell tagged and Paar himself had done the damage. He smiled nervously.

“Well, it’s of no consequence. And as I was saying, Mr. Catell was here only briefly. He mentioned to me how anxious he was to get back to New York. In fact, I believe he took the one-o’clock train.”

Herron made no comment. The stenographer was sharpening his pencil, the detective stood near the wall picking his teeth, and the fourth man was holding a paper cup of water to Selma’s lips.

“Oh, Jaysis!” she said.

The silence made Paar uncomfortable. He still didn’t know whether they had got anything out of Selma.

“If you gentlemen are through, I believe I’ll accompany the lady home now.” Paar took Selma by the arm.

“Of course, Mr. Paar. We’ll be in touch with her. And you,” Herron added.

Paar helped Selma out of the chair. One shoulder of her deep-cut dress was slipping down her arm and her left stocking sagged She looked terrible. Outside, even the cold night air didn’t seem to help her. Selma sat in one corner of Paar’s big limousine, never saying a word. Nor did Paar. It could wait till morning, he figured. He and Selma were going to stick together for a while, seeing they were both after the same man. Meanwhile, there’d be some compensations, and he looked at Selma’s inert figure leaning in the corner of the seat.

“End of the line,” Paar said in a cheery voice. It didn’t cheer Selma.

“Jaysis,” she said.

He helped her out of the car and into the apartment building. They went up in the elevator. Once in the apartment, Paar locked the door.

“Selma, dear, sit down and be comfortable. Your wrap, oops, thank you. And now, sweet, the hair of the dog for you.”

Selma straightened up and patted her hair. She looked more animated now and struck a saucy pose. The dress had slipped off one shoulder again.

Paar sat down next to Selma and handed her a glass of straight whisky. She drank it fast, wrinkling her eyes at him over the rim of the glass.

“Paar, baby, you’re a lover.” She put a whisky-wet kiss on his big forehead.

“How would you know?” Paar said. He patted her shoulder. “But it’s good to see you cheered up again, Selma. Your ordeal at the station—”

“One more, Paar baby.” She handed him her empty glass.

“Did they question you long, dear?” Paar refilled Selma’s glass and held it just out of reach.

“Come on, baby, come on.” He gave her the glass quickly, noticing how easily she could lose her temper. After two swallows Selma put the glass down and leaned back, sighing. “Paar, you’re so good to me.”

“Don’t mention it, my dear. And stay as long as you like. In fact, Selma, what do you say you move in with me? The place is large, I’m alone, I could use an attractive hostess when I entertain.”

Selma wasn’t answering. Her face was flushed now
and she was staring at the ceiling with a vague smile.

“Selma, my dear, are you all right?”

“Jaysis.”

Paar saw it was no use. She didn’t resist when he pulled her up and steered her toward the bedroom. He hadn’t expected she would. Sitting on the large bed, Selma smiled pleasantly when Paar started to unbutton her dress.

“You’ll be comfortable soon now.” His hands were sweating. “We’ll talk about Catell in the morning, sweetness. And you’ll tell me all about your bad, bad time with the police.”

He took her dress off, Selma lifting her rear so he could pull it up. Sitting down again, she swayed a little, eyes closed. Paar steadied her and started to fumble with her brassiere.

“Soon now, my dearest, soon you’ll be all right, eh, Selma?” He got the brassiere unhooked and pulled the straps off her shoulders. His voice was shaky when he said, “Darling.”

Selma sank back on the bed, sighing. With nervous movements Paar fumbled with his dinner jacket while he ran to the light switch. He was pulling his tie off when he clicked the light switch.

Out of the darkness Selma said, “Jaysis.”