Fast Buck (15 page)

Every now and then he caught sight of Baird’s shadow as he crossed the blind. He was up to something, moving backwards and forwards like that. He didn’t give the impression of a man preparing for bed.

Again Burns leaned out of the window to see the time: one twenty-five! He yawned again, threatening to dislocate his jaw.

A patrolman came slowly along the sidewalk, gently whacking the side of his leg with his night-stick.

He looked over at Burns, sitting in the car, paused, then came across the street and stopped beside the car.

‘Waiting for someone?’ he asked, eyeing Burns suspiciously.

‘For the end of the world,’ Burns said sarcastical y. ‘Haven’t you heard? You and me and all the rest of the lousy bunch will come to an end in half an hour. If you want proof, my tea leaves told me, and they’re never wrong.’

The cop rested his foot on the running-board. The situation seemed to him to have possibilities.

‘Been drinking?’ he asked hopeful y.

‘Look, I’m busy,’ Burns said. ‘Go away and catch a burglar. Do anything, but don’t bother me.’

‘What’s this about the end of the world?’ the cop asked. ‘My tea leaves didn’t say nothing about it.’

‘Maybe you use the wrong make of tea. Why don’t you run away and make yourself some more? If you don’t want to drink the stuff, and if you’ve made enough of it, you can always drown yourself in it.’

The cop considered this, cocking his head on one side and squinting at Burns.

‘This could be a pinch, fel a,’ he said amiably. ‘I haven’t made a pinch for a week, and it’s time I did.

Suppose you and me take a ride down to headquarters.’

Burns shook his head.

‘I’ll play cops and robbers with you some other night,’ he said. ‘I’ve got work to do right now. Be a nice guy and fade away. If you’re al that hard up, why don’t you go pinch yourself a tart?’

‘You’l do,’ the cop said, his voice suddenly aggressive. ‘The Sarge hates funny men. He’l put you in cell 6, the one that leaks and has beetles. Start rolling, brother, you and me are going for a ride.’

With an air of bored weariness, Burns produced a card and pushed it under the cop’s nose.

‘Take a look at that, ambitious, if you can read. My old man and Lieutenant Olin are like that.’ He held up two fat fingers, pressed tightly together. ‘Interfere with me and you’l lose your badge so fast you won’t know it’s gone til you come to clean it – if you ever do clean it.’

The cop read the card, then spat in the gutter.

‘A shamus,’ he said bit erly. ‘I might have known it. Okay, forget it. That Purvis creep’s always making trouble for us workers.’

‘He makes trouble for me, too,’ Burns sighed. ‘I haven’t had a good night’s rest since last week, and then that was an accident.’

‘It beats me how you punks who peep through other people’s keyholes can sleep at al ,’ the cop said virtuously. ‘If I had your job my conscience wouldn’t let me sleep.’

Burns saw the light in Baird’s room had gone out.

‘Pipe down,’ he said tersely. ‘The pigeon I’m watching’s going to roost.’

The cop looked up at the darkened window.

‘That guy Baird? You interested in him?’

‘What do you know about him?’

‘I’ve got my orders. Never mind what I know about him.’

‘Aw, forget it. If there’s a thing I hate more than a stye in the eye, it’s a mysterious cop.’

The front door to Baird’s apartment house opened, and Baird came quickly down the steps.

‘Jeepers!’ Burns mut ered. ‘The punk’s going for a walk.’

‘Looks like he’s going on the lam,’ the cop said.

Baird was carrying a grip. He glanced at the cop and the parked car and went quickly down the street, away from them.

Burns scrambled out of the car.

‘Listen, brother, this is important. One of my buddies is due along any moment to relieve me. Will you tell him Baird’s left with a grip, and I’m going after him?’

‘I don’t mind,’ the cop said. ‘Not if you make it worth my while.’

‘And they say the police aren’t corrupt in this town,’ Burns said bitterly. He produced a five-dollar bill. ‘Stick around until he turns up. You can’t miss him. He walks pigeon-toed and wears a hand-painted tie.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ the cop said, pocketing the bil . ‘Nice to have known you.’

Burns snorted and set out after the fast-disappearing figure in the distance.

He had some difficulty in shortening the distance between Baird and himself. Baird swung along at a fast clip, and once or twice Burns had to break into a run or he’d have lost him.

Baird’s quick, suspicious ears heard the pat er of feet behind him, but he didn’t look around. He kept on, not sure yet if he was being tailed. Was it the police? he wondered. He turned down a side street, swearing softly under his breath. He had cut it fine. The train was due out at two, and he had yet to reach the depot and get his ticket. But he had to be sure no one was following him.

When he reached a dark patch of the road, he glanced back. A short, fat man was walking rapidly after him, keeping in the shadows. He didn’t look like a cop, and he puzzled Baird.

Baird kept on until he reached an alley that cut through to the railroad depot. He had ten minutes before the train left. Once in the darkness of the alley, he stopped and set down his grip and waited.

But Burns was too experienced to walk into that kind of trap. As soon as he could no longer hear Baird’s footfal s, he guessed Baird had spot ed him and was waiting for him in the al ey.

He walked slowly past the mouth of the alley, so Baird could see him, and kept on down the street until he was out of ear-shot, then he doubled back on tiptoe until he reached the mouth of the alley again.

He stood just out of sight, listening.

Although he had moved silently, Baird had heard him. Baird guessed this fat punk wouldn’t venture into the alley so long as he was uncertain Baird was still there.

Time was getting on. Baird couldn’t afford to hang about any longer, nor could he afford to let anyone interested in him know he was catching a train.

His hand slid inside his coat and came out again, holding his Colt. Silently he began to edge back along the alley, moving like a ghost.

Burns stood straining his ears, sure now that Baird was still in the alley. He decided not to show himself, but to wait Baird out. He didn’t hear Baird creeping along the al ey, and he had no idea of his danger until a hand came around the corner of the wall and grabbed hold of his coat.

He let out a yell as he felt himself jerked forward, and he hit out blindly. Then something hard and heavy smashed down on his head, and his world snuffed out into darkness.

Baird dragged Burns into the alley, turned him on his back and went through his pockets. He found one of Burns’s cards and he struck a match to read it.

International Detective Agency! A shamus following him! He gave Burns a hard nudge with the toe of his shoe and stood up, his face hard and set.

He hadn’t time now to think what it meant. If he didn’t hurry he’d miss his train. He left Burns’s body in the alley and ran towards the railroad depot.

***

Forty minutes later Harmon Purvis was startled out of a heavy sleep by the furious ringing of his telephone bell. As he picked up the receiver he glanced at his bedside clock. It showed a quarter-past three.

‘Who is it?’ he demanded.

‘This is Ed,’ Dal as’s voice barked over the line. ‘Baird’s given us the slip. Burns is in hospital with a fractured skull. I thought you’d welcome the good news.’

‘Any idea what happened?’ Purvis said, dropping back on his pillow and frowning up at the ceiling.

‘The Gil is girl cal ed on her brother tonight. She left around eleven-thirty. I watched Gillis’s window until he turned off the light and presumably went to bed. It was after two before I got away. I ran into Ainsworth on his way to relieve Burns. I went with him. We found Burns’s car near Baird’s place, but no Burns. A cop told us Baird had left his house, carrying hand-baggage, about five minutes before we showed up, and Burns had gone after him. We went after them. Obviously from the direction, Baird was heading for the railroad depot. We found Burns in an alley, bleeding like a pig, and the top of his head shoved in. No sign of Baird.’

Purvis made clicking noises with his tongue.

‘Is Burns bad?’

‘Yeah, but the croaker says he’ll survive.’

‘Did you go to the depot?’

‘Ainsworth did while I took Burns to hospital. The ticket agent told Ainsworth that Baird had booked through to Shreveport.’

Purvis sat bolt upright in bed.

‘Shreveport! You sure?’

‘Of course I am. What’s the excitement?’

‘You and Ainsworth grab a taxi and come here pronto,’ Purvis bawled. ‘This is important.’

‘Why? It’s after three and I haven’t had any sleep…’

‘That’s all you damned operators think of,’ Purvis snarled. ‘I don’t pay you to sleep. The Bellmore Prison Farm is within fifteen miles of Shreveport, and that’s where Paul Hater’s serving his sentence!

That mean anything to you?’

Dallas gave a long, low whistle.

‘I’m on my way,’ he said, and slammed down the receiver.

I

Baird pushed open the door to the back entrance of the Frou-Frou Club, glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him, and then stepped into the dimly lit passage. He walked silently to Rico’s office. As he reached the door he caught sight of a movement ahead of him and looked up quickly.

Zoe Norton ducked back out of sight behind her dressing-room door, but not quickly enough for Baird to miss seeing her. He stood for a moment staring thoughtfully at the door that stood ajar, then he moved softly along the passage and pushed the door open with his foot.

Zoe was sitting at the dressing-table, making up her face. She looked a little flustered, and gave a start when she saw Baird in the doorway.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded, swinging around on the low stool. ‘Who said you could walk in here without knocking?’

Baird leaned against the doorway, his eyes on her face.

‘Hel o, Toots,’ he said. ‘I saw you peeping. Anything I can do for you?’

She felt a little sick as she looked into his cold, murderous eyes.

‘I – I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said defiantly. ‘As if I should want to peep at you.

Would you mind fading away? There isn’t much air in this hole, and I don’t see why I should have to share it with you.’

He studied her, then his eyes shifted to the telephone on her dressing-table and back to her.

‘Watch your step, Toots,’ he said evenly. ‘I shan’t tel you again.’

He gave her another hard, menacing stare that made her feel weak at the knees and went out, closing the door behind him. He walked thoughtfully along the passage to Rico’s office and went in.

Rico glanced up from his desk.

‘Come in,’ he said, pushing back his chair. ‘Lock the door. I’ve got news for you.’

Baird turned the key in the lock, crossed over to the desk and sat down.

‘Don’t yel at the top of your voice,’ he said softly. ‘Someone may be listening in.’

Rico looked startled.

‘What do you mean? Who’s listening in?’

‘Forget it,’ Baird said impatiently. ‘Just keep your voice down. What’s the news?’

His expression puzzled, Rico shrugged his shoulders.

‘You don’t have to worry about this place,’ he said. ‘No one listens in here.’

‘What’s the news?’ Baird repeated.

‘I’ve seen Kile. I told him you’ve looked the ground over and you think you can pull it off. We can go ahead. He’s leaving al the arrangements to us. I’ve five grand to split between us. Pret y good, huh?’

Baird lit a cigarette and stared across the room.

‘What makes you think you rate anything?’ he asked casually. ‘Who’s doing the job – you or me?’

‘We’re both in it,’ Rico said, smiling ingratiatingly. ‘But if that’s the way you feel about it, I’m willing to take two and you three.’

‘Did you find out who the man is?’ Baird asked.

‘Sure. I’ve got al the necessary dope.’ Rico opened a drawer in his desk and took out a big envelope.

‘Don’t you keep that locked up?’ Baird asked sharply.

Rico stared at him.

‘It’s safe enough. No one ever comes into my office when I’m not here. What’s biting you?’

‘Nothing,’ Baird said, flicking ash on to the floor. ‘Who is he?’

‘Paul Hater. Here’s his picture.’ Rico tossed a police photograph across the desk. ‘He shouldn’t be difficult to spot.’

Baird looked curiously at the photograph. Rico was right. Hater would be easy to identify. He was small and thin. His dome of a forehead was accentuated by heavy eyebrows and a balding head. He had deep-set, dark, staring eyes and a livid white scar that ran from his right eye to his mouth. He reminded Baird of the fanatical prison chaplain he had met when he had visited his brother for the first and only time.

‘He looks as if he’s got a screw loose,’ Baird said, tossing the picture back to Rico. ‘He won’t be difficult to spot. When do we start?’

‘Any time we like,’ Rico said eagerly. ‘The sooner the better.’

Baird nodded.

‘And the money?’

Rico tapped the envelope.

‘Plenty more where that comes from.’

‘How do you know?’

Rico laughed.

‘What’s the matter with you? Kile’s a big shot. He’s rol ing in the stuff. He and I have worked together…’

‘How do you know he’s rol ing in it?’

‘How do I know?’ Rico stared. ‘What are you driving at?’

‘Do you imagine Kile’s the top man in this set-up?’

‘Of course he is.’

‘If you’re so sure,’ Baird said, ‘how do you know?’

Rico began to look uneasy.

‘What’s cooking?’ he asked, leaning forward to stare at Baird. ‘Sounds like you’ve found out something.’

‘I’ve found out plenty,’ Baird said. ‘The moment I set eyes on Kile I knew there was something phoney about him. I’ve been digging in his back yard, and does it stink! He owes money everywhere. He hasn’t paid for that big house on Roosevelt Boulevard. He’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth, and isn’t expected to last six months.’