Read The Cop on the Corner Online

Authors: David Goodis

The Cop on the Corner

The Cop On The Corner

David Goodis

     This page formatted 2011 Munsey's.

      http://www.munseys.com

EText from pulpgen.com

     Popular Detective
, September, 1947
     When racketeer Jimmie Renzelli was found bumped off in an alley, the murder wasn't as simple to solve as it looked!

     TWO little kids found the body. They found it in an alley. At first they thought the man was sleeping. Then they saw the blood. They started to yell and they ran down the alley.

     Elrick, the big cop, was on the corner. He was talking to Herbie, the newsboy. Herbie was a year over thirty. At one time he had wanted to be an artist. But he found out that in order to keep alive it was necessary to eat. So Herbie, a thin little guy with black hair, began selling papers on the corner.

     His only friend was Elrick, who had been on the force for twelve years and would probably remain there for twenty or thirty more. Elrick was a good natured guy who always took his time. In the summer he was almost immovable. He would stand there on the corner and blot a handkerchief against his gleaming red face.

     “Whew, but it's hot!” he'd say.

     “Sure is,” Herbie would answer.

     Elrick would then begin to blast the weather, the neighborhood, the city's water system, and the universe in general. Which would bring a string of philosophical observations from Herbie. Invariably it would end in a violent disagreement. Elrick would walk away, boiling. The next day he would be on the corner again, talking to Herbie.

     They were in the midst of such a debate when they were interrupted by the two little kids.

     Elrick wobbled up the alley. Herbie followed. The two little kids trailed along, yelping.

     Then Elrick was looking down at the body.

     “I can't believe it,” he said.

     Herbie leaned down. His eyes widened.

     “Renzelli.”

     “So the Big Shot came home,” Elrick said. “He came home and they were waiting for him. Ten years ago he was a wild kid of seventeen. I grabbed him once and I told him to wise up, but he ran down the street. And I had a feeling that some day I would find him like this. In an alley. Wait here, Herbie. Don't let anyone near the body. I'm putting in a call.”

     Elrick wobbled down the alley. Excitement was climbing within him. For a long time the neighborhood had been quiet. There wasn't much to do, outside of keeping the kids off the street and breaking up minor disturbances. But now Jimmie Renzelli was lying in an alley with four bullet holes in his chest. And Elrick knew all about Renzelli.

     He knew all about the guy's connections, his friends and the enemies. The business and the manipulations. He knew about a girl named Gladys and a guy named Vince Mazzione and a guy named Lou. And a New Year's Eve party of two years ago. And how Renzelli had found it best to leave town the next morning.

     AFTER putting in his call, Elrick wobbled down the alley again. Herbie and the two kids were gazing at the body and at Renzelli's glimmering black hair, which he'd always shined up with a lot of sweet-smelling grease. They were gazing at the costly gabardine suit, at the custom- made lavender shirt, and the expensive tie. And at the moonstone ring on the little finger of a cold white hand.

     They were gazing at all that, and at the blood from the four punctures in Renzelli's chest.

     “He was always tough,” Herbie said. “Always a bully.”

     The two little kids began to ask a lot of questions. Elrick pushed them away.

     “Go on! Get out of here.”

     They ran up the alley.

     Elrick looked at the dead man and shook his head.

     “I wonder why he came back,” he said. “He got away at the right time. He should have known better than to have come back.”

     “Maybe he needed money,” Herbie said.

     With a grimace, Elrick pointed at the body.

     “When a man can wear clothes like that, he ain't exactly starving,” he said. “Even a dumb newsboy ought to be able to see that.”

     Herbie shrugged.

     Elrick placed fists on hips and looked down at the body.

     “It won't take long to figure out who did this. I got the case patterned already.” He jabbed a forefinger into Herbie's ribs. “A situation like this comes up once every fifty or so years. When an ordinary cop solves a murder, he ain't no ordinary cop any longer. Get the drift?”

     “No,” Herbie said, his face dumb.

     “I didn't think you would,” Elrick said. “You see, simpleton, I know Renzelli's background. And when I put all the facts on the table, and fix them up so they fit, I'll have the case all wrapped up and ready to be delivered to the D. A. And a few days after that I'll be taking off this dark blue and putting on plain clothes.”

     “You mean they'll fire you?”

     Elrick's lips tightened and he pushed the cap back on his head. “When you were born, your brains must have leaked out through your ears,” he said. “No, they won't fire me. They'll make me a detective. A plainclothes man.”

     “That'll be nice,” Herbie said.

     “You tellin' me?” Elrick blurted, “That's what I been hoping for. But I never thought the break would come. Even though I got brains, I'm not exactly educated, like some of these smooth young guys who come out of the colleges. Like that smart- aleck Reeve.” Satisfaction settled itself into Elrick's eyes. “I'll show that squirt what a cop can do.”

     There was a commotion at the other end of the alley, where policemen were holding back a curious crowd. Then three cops came walking down the alley followed by a man in a plain light blue suit. He was of medium height and sparingly built.

     He pushed his way past the cops and leaned over the body.

     He glanced up at Elrick. “Anything more?”

     “Nothing more than what you see there,” Elrick said. “Two kids found the body and told me about it. I put in a call.”

     “Where are the two kids?”

     Elrick shrugged. “I told them to go home.”

     “Oh, you told them to go home, did you?”

     “Now look, Reeve, don't start that with me.”

     Reeve looked at the other three cops. “Two possible star witnesses and he tells them to go home.” He looked at Elrick. “Once upon a time I made up my mind that you were dumb. I was wrong. You're not dumb. You're an imbecile.”

     Elrick pushed the cap back on his head.

     His big hands formed fists.

     “I won't take that from any—”

     One of the cops stepped in. “Aw, why don't you guys cut it out!”

     “He's been lookin' for trouble for a long time!” Elrick boomed. “And now it's up to my neck!”

     Reeve ignored Elrick. He was studying the body, looking up and down the alley, and running his hands along the dreary gray wood that walled the alley. Then he whirled and pointed a long finger at Herbie.

     “Who are you?”

     “Leave him alone,” Elrick said. “His name's Herbie and he sells papers. I was on the corner talkin' to him when the kids came up. Besides, Reeve, you're just wasting time. I know who killed the guy.”

     “Oh, you do, do you?” Reeve said unsweetly.

     “Sure.” Elrick smiled. He leaned back on his heels and purred, “I wonder how I'll look in a nice tan worsted suit, a clean white shirt and a snappy tie?”

     “You'll still look like a big fat dummy,” Reeve said.

     Again it was necessary for the three other cops to step in. . . .

     HEADQUARTERS decided to give Elrick a break. He was practically on his knees, begging them to let him follow up his leads. Within twenty-four hours he promised to bring in the murderer of Jimmie Renzelli. And he insisted that because of the peculiarities surrounding the case, he must go at this task alone. Finally he got what he wanted. Headquarters told Elrick to go out and see what he could do.

     In the outside office Reeve was sitting on the edge of a desk, wise-cracking with a few reporters. The detective looked Elrick up and down. “Well, at least you're taking it with a smile,” Reeve said. “You really didn't expect them to let you handle it, did you?”

     The smile on Elrick's features took on a decided subtlety.

     “No, I really didn't expect it at all,” he said.

     He walked out and stepped into a green- and-white bandit-chaser. He slammed into first and he was doing forty around a corner and fifty down a narrow street and fifty-five around another corner. He switched on the siren and a horse became frightened and a peddler started to curse as tomatoes went splashing over the side of his wagon. Only then did Elrick slow down.

     Elrick finally parked the coupe and stepped out. He walked along a line of four- story tenements and then he looked up at an address. The front door was open and Elrick walked into a dark hallway and went up two flights of steps. An old woman came out of a room and looked at him hatefully.

     “Whatchoo want?”

     “I'm looking for a Miss Gladys Melvin.”

     “She not live here. She move.”

     “When?”

     “I no know.”

     Elrick pushed the cap back on his head and returned the old woman's bitter gaze with a scowl.

     “Show me that girl's room or I'll lock you up.”

     The old woman cringed. She moved down to the far end of the hall. It was dark down there. The wallpaper was a mess. The door was splintered and the floor sagged.

     “In there,” she said. She made a face at Elrick as if she was getting ready to spit. In spite of himself the big cop winced. He waited until she had gone, then opened the door.

     He walked into a small room even dirtier and more sorrowful than the hallway. It was small and the single window hadn't been washed for a year. There was a chair and a dresser and a bed. And on the bed was a girl in her late twenties. She had yellow hair. She wore a dress that at one time had been something to see. Now it was a rag. She was resting face down and there was an alcoholic rhythm to her respiration. On the floor was an empty gin bottle.

     He closed the door and walked to the bed. For a few moments he looked down at the girl, shaking his head slowly. He was remembering when she had been a kid in pigtails, running gaily home from school.

     There was a pitcher of water on the dresser. He grabbed it, dipped fingers into the pitcher and gently turned the girl's head. His fingers flicked water.

     Her eyes opened. They were pale blue. They blinked and then they narrowed. Gladys sat up, looked at the dark blue uniform and mechanically she was on the defensive.

     “What do
you
want?”

     “I'm Officer Elrick. Sure, Gladys. Sure, you remember me.”

     “I don't know from nothin'.” She was no longer in an alcoholic fog. This was a cop.

     “What am I supposed to do—sing a song?”

     “You used to be able to do that pretty well. You had a good voice. Used to sing in a night club, didn't you? Sure. Jimmie Renzelli's place.”

     Gladys' features grew white. Her lower lip shivered slightly.

     “Yeah, I used to sing there,” she said.

     “About two years ago, wasn't it?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Sure, I remember. That was a nice place Renzelli had. A real nice place.”

     “Yeah.”

     “I went there a lot of nights when I was off duty. You know why? I liked to hear you sing. I used to say to myself, 'That girl will be in the bright lights some day. She's gonna go a long way'.”

     “Yeah. I went a long way, all right.”

     Gladys got up, trying to stand straight and it didn't work. She had to lean against a bedpost. “All right, copper. What's the wire?”

     “No wire, Gladys. I just happened to be in the neighborhood and I thought I'd come up to talk over old times.”

     GLADYS registered mock sweetness. “Now ain't that just lovely!” Suddenly the mock sweetness changed into nothing but bitterness.

     “Look, copper. I don't know what brings you up here, so I'm askin' you again. What's the wire?”

     “Gladys, you got this all wrong,” Elrick said. “I've known you since you were a little girl. I've watched you grow up. When you used to sing down at Renzelli's—” He paused and leaned toward her slightly and watched the whiteness increase itself, watched the lower lip shivering.

     “Yeah, you said that already. Let's move along.”

     “Well, I was interested in you, Gladys. Just like I'm always interested in the young people around this neighborhood. So I decided to pay you a visit.” He looked around the room. “The place sure has changed.”

     “Yeah.” Gladys was watching him suspiciously.

     “I was thinking about your boy friend,” Elrick said. “What was his name? Oh, yeah—Vince Mazzione. Whatever became of him?”

     “He's still around.”

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