The Blonde Wore Black Page 16

  I became aware that someone was standing close. I looked up to see Martello’s other man looking down at Shiralee. In the dim light I could see the stricken look on his face.

  “Holy Mother,” he muttered, “She wasn’t doing no harm. Jake ain’t going to like this.”

  I straightened up and stood beside him.

  “We’d better get some law in here. You know where there’s a phone?”

  “I’ll go ask the old man,” he said, glad of something to do.

  I knew how he felt. Catching sight of the bag Shiralee had been carrying I went over and opened it. There was money inside. I toted it a few yards into the light thrown by Hamilton’s car. For no good reason I could think of, I began to count the money. Hamilton came across.

  “That’s Jake’s. I’ll take care of it.”

  I turned on him viciously.

  “You just keep away from me Hamilton. And don’t tell me what to do. I got my stomach full of you, and I don’t need more than half an excuse to ruin your nice pretty face.”

  He scowled tightly.

  “Don’t talk so tough to me, Preston. As you once said, we’re both on the same side, and that’s all there is between us.”

  I ignored him, occupying my mind with the money. There were five thousand dollars, plus a few loose bills.

  “We have company,” said Hamilton.

  I looked to see new lights coming along the beach. It was too soon for the police, surely. A car screeched to a stop. Doors banged and men came running forward. Charlie Martello and his two hoodlums appeared in the circle of light.

  He took in the picture, looking first at McCann, then at the girl. He ignored Hamilton, speaking directly to me.

  “All right, let’s have it,” he snapped.

  I told him how I found out about the boat, and how we came to be waiting. Hamilton tried to butt in at one point, but Martello motioned him to be quiet.

  “When they showed up, McCann went for a gun and we both shot him.”

  “I see. And the girl?”

  “She ran away. This maniac shot her in the back. Twice. It was the most cold-blooded thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Hamilton swung a sudden fist at me, and I’d been hoping for the chance. Ducking, I kicked hard at his kneecap. As the force of his swing took him off balance I brought my elbow up hard into his face revelling in the soft crunch of breaking cartilage. He howled in agony, and I chopped him at the side of the neck. Then Charlie’s men pulled me off him, and I stood cursing and panting, a man holding each arm.

  Hamilton was doubled in pain, and when he lifted his head, there was blood all over his face. I felt exultant.

  “That’s enough,” barked Charlie Martello. “Take their guns.”

  His goons took away the .38 and fished in Hamilton’s pockets till they found his weapon.

  “Don’t want you boys being bad friends,” explained Charlie. “What’s that money you have there, Preston?”

  “It was in the girl’s bag, but I don’t understand it. Jake said he was short eight grand, but there’s only five here. On top of that, I know McCann got money from a man he was blackmailing, so there should be at least ten here, maybe more.”

  Charlie turned to the tall goon.

  “Check the car.”

  Hamilton was trying to repair his face with a handkerchief, but it would take more than a few dabs with a piece of linen to correct the damage I’d caused. The goon came back and whispered to Charlie, who nodded.

  “Why’d you kill the girl, Hamilton?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid I got excited. I wasn’t thinking straight. There she was, running away. All I could think was, I have to stop her. Next thing I knew, she was dead.”

  “Dirty liar,” I spat.

  “Shut up, Preston. I don’t think you’re quite right, Hamilton. I have an idea you were thinking very straight indeed. With these two dead, we have a nice tidy end. Nothing loose, isn’t that the way you figured it?”

  Hamilton looked at him strangely.

  “Alive or dead,” he shrugged. “What’s the difference? We’ve got them now. It’s all over.”

  Charlie laughed, a low unpleasant sound.

  “Oh no, it’s not over yet. And it does make a difference whether they’re alive or dead. Because dead people don’t tell tales. And these two could have told plenty.”

  I looked at Charlie, wondering what was on his mind. He had both hands plunged in his pockets, and his face was grim.

  “I’ve been filling in the time looking through Jake’s books,” he continued. “And I don’t think this Brookman character owed him any money at all. Jake trusted you with checking the books, you with all that fine education. Jake never figured you for a four-flusher. If you said Brookman was in the red, that was good enough for Jake. But when it got too hot, when you’d put eight grand in your pocket, somebody had to get blamed. And Brookman got elected.”

  Hamilton’s face was rigid.

  “That’s crazy talk,” he protested, “You can’t prove any of that.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything,” Charlie reminded. “I’m not a district attorney. I’m just a guy who knows what he knows. And I don’t operate in no courtroom. That’s why you knocked these people off, just to keep everything tidy. And you nearly killed Jake, too. It’s curtains for you, Hamilton.”

  “No, no wait a minute,” he said anxiously. “I couldn’t have shot Jake. Preston will tell you. I was inside the club at the time. Tell him Preston, for God’s sake.”

  I nodded grimly.

  “Sure, you were inside. What does that prove, except you didn’t pull the trigger yourself?”

  “Right,” growled Charlie. “There’s plenty guys all over this town, any town, who hire out for that kinda work. So what’s the story?”

  “Listen, now please listen Charlie, you’re all excited,” begged Hamilton. “If you’ll just take it easy, give me a chance, I can explain.”

  “Go ahead,” invited Martello. “Start by explaining what these two——” he indicated the two bodies—“What they did with the money. Where is it, that eight grand they got from Brookman?”

  “I don’t know, but give it a couple of days, maybe we can find out. You have five of it right there.”

  “No we don’t,” I contradicted. “That’s black money. I don’t need more than one telephone call to find out where that came from. It’s my guess it’s all from one man, one payment.”

  Hamilton’s face began to work.

  “But you can’t judge me on this kind of stuff,” he bluffed. “You have to give me a chance, some kind of chance.”

  “Sure. I’m a reasonable man. You tried to murder my own brother, you knocked off them two, probably others. But I’m going to give you a chance.”

  Martello produced a heavy automatic from his pocket.

  “Now, you start running,” he said softly. “And I’m gonna count clear up to three before I start blasting.”

  “No, Charlie,” screamed Hamilton. “Preston, you can’t let him do this.”

  “It’s better than the break you gave Brookman,” I told him flatly.

  He was sweating with fear, and there was the knowledge of death in his eyes.

  “He was just a bum,” he screamed. “Nobody at all. Why——” His voice tailed away as he realized what he had blurted out.

  “One,” intoned Charlie.

  “Oh God.” Hamilton sank to his knees. “Look Charlie, try to understand the way it was——”

  “Two.”

  “Jake’s alive,” he pleaded, “He’s going to be all right. Just give me a break.”

  “Three.”

  Charlie’s hand tightened on the trigger. I struck downwards hard at his hand and the bullet plunged into the sand a foot in front of the screaming Hamilton.

  “What the——?” shouted Charlie, nursing his wrist.

  The two goons moved towards me.

  “No Charlie, listen.” I picked up the gun. “This is not the way. We
have this guy cold. Let the law do it. Use your head.” Hamilton was stretched out on the beach, weeping uncontrollably. Charlie glowered at me.

  “You done all right so far Preston. But this is my business.”

  “Sure,” I reasoned. “But think man, think. You’ll make yourself a murderer, and in front of all these witnesses. Even if nobody talks now, how will you like it knowing all these people are walking around loose, and any one of them could put the finger on you any time he likes? The law will deal with Hamilton, that’s what it’s for.”

  His breathing became more even, and he stared at me a full minute before speaking.

  “You got a cool head there, Preston. And you talk sense. What good would it be to Jake if I got myself the death chamber over this kind of trash.”

  He stepped forward and swung a vicious foot at Hamilton’s head. The whimpering stopped. Charlie chuckled.

  “You know, this is the first time I ever waited around for the law to show.”

  There were lights on in front of the house, and my ring was soon answered. Eve Prince wore a long red housecoat with gold edging, and she looked good enough to eat.

  “Why Mr. Preston,” she greeted with a smile. “It’s a little late for calling isn’t it?”

  “This won’t take long,” I assured her. “May I come in?”

  “Well——” she hesitated, “Well, just for a little while.”

  She closed the door behind me, and stood close.

  “I hoped I’d see you again, but I didn’t think it would be quite so soon.”

  I put my arms around her, and she slid into them easily. Her lips were soft and moist and I could feel her heart pounding against me. Then gently, she pushed me away.

  “Easy now. You wouldn’t take advantage of a poor widow lady? Not until we’ve had a drink anyway.”

  I followed her into the comfortable room I’d visited before. When was that, ten years ago, fifty?

  “Scotch?”

  “Thank you.”

  I settled down with my drink and she sat primly opposite, presumably so as not to let me get any ideas. Not yet.

  “I think we’ll have to be frank with each other, Mark,” she said hesitantly. “I’m—I’m not just another woman.”

  “All right. That suits me.” I set down the glass and locked my hands together on my knees. “Tell me about Clyde Hamilton.”

  Her face changed, and now she was worried.

  “Clyde? What about him?”

  “You didn’t tell me you knew him,” I pointed out.

  “But I know lots of people I haven’t told you about,” she protested. “I’ve hardly had much opportunity yet.”

  “Clyde is different,” I insisted. “You spent a lot of time with him at the Grease-Paint Pot. You must have known who he was, what he was. But you didn’t tell me. Might have saved a lot of time. Tell me about him now.”

  She flexed her hand nervously on the arm of the chair.

  “You’ll have to know anyway. He’s my brother.”

  “Your what?”

  It wasn’t a very intelligent remark, but the answer was unexpected.

  “Yes. I moved here a long time ago, and of course Clyde knew that. He’s always been a little bit wild, and I was worried about the kind of company he was keeping back home. But he’s a grown man, and it was too late to change him. Then he came here to Monkton City a few months ago, and ,he hadn’t changed. I thought if I spent some of my time with him, had him meet some nice people, it might help. I should have known better,” she ended bitterly. “Well now you know. My brother is a bad hat, Mark. Does it have to matter to us?”

  “And she fixed him with a nervous, trusting smile, hoping with all her heart that Clyde’s reputation would not come between her and the man she loved,” I sneered.

  She flushed.

  “That was a pretty rotten thing to say. You’d better go.”

  “Aw, come on angel, there’s only us watching this picture. No critics to rave about your performance.”

  “I don’t understand one word of what you’re saying,” she informed me icily. “Are you drunk?”

  “No. I wish I were,” I said sadly. “And I wish I could leave you out of this, but I can’t. Remember the little tale you told me about that wicked blackmailing Brookman?”

  “What about it?”

  I shook my head regretfully.

  “Not true angel. Not a word of truth in it. You told a naughty fib.”

  “I did no such thing,” she protested. “Why, I paid him——”

  “Nothing,” I finished. “Big fat zero is what you paid him. That was a little tale Clyde taught you, after he pushed the poor devil off the Point.”

  Her face was white and strained.

  “What’re you saying?” she whispered.

  “Didn’t you know? It was your bad bad brother killed Brookman. He’d been robbing Jake Martello and marking the books so the missing money was debited to Brook-man. Maybe some others too. We’ll know it all when the accountants are finished with Jake’s books.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. Clyde couldn’t have——”

  She stopped as she saw the stony look on my face.

  “But bad old Clyde says he did. He’s down at headquarters right now, honey. You know what else he did? He killed two other people tonight, one of them a girl. He shot her in the back. I saw him do it.”

  “Lies,” she blazed. “What madness is this?”

  “Madness is right,” I agreed.

  Again she shook her head in dumb refusal to accept.

  “He’s always been rather wild, but this—this is——”

  She passed a hand across her face.

  “I know,” I soothed. “It’s tough news for you. But I’m afraid there’s worse to follow.”

  “Worse?” she repeated. “What could possibly be worse?”

  “Why we mustn’t leave old Clyde all alone down there, must we? I know little details get overlooked sometimes, but I’m afraid we haven’t quite cleared up Flower’s murder yet.”

  “Flowers? Who is Flowers?” she queried.

  “Was,” I corrected. “And not Flowers. Flower. A girl whose real name was Serena Fenton. You must recall her, surely? You tipped her out of a window, remember?”

  Eve went very still.

  “I did what?”

  “You can’t have forgotten, surely. It was just a few hours ago. I was there too. You hit me over the head with something, but I was too heavy for the window exit.”

  “I think you must be insane. I’m going to call the police.”

  She made a move to get up, sat down again when she saw the .38 pointed at her.

  “You’re going to kill me,” she said tonelessly.

  “No, no. Just want you to stay where you are. I left word for the police to be called ten minutes after I left town. They ought to be here within minutes.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “But angel, I’m not doing anything. I don’t want you roaming around the house, wearing yourself out. Besides, I have a feeling there might be a rifle around here someplace. If there is, and it’s the one that was fired at Jake Martello last night, you’re a pretty good shot. And I wouldn’t want to have you demonstrating on me.”

  She bit her lip, and sat very still.

  “Don’t worry too much,” I suggested. “You give the jury that big sister act you gave me. With the right clothes, and the right attorney, you’ll probably get away with seven to ten. There’ll still be plenty of good killings left in you when you come out.”

  Her eyes fixed on me with implacable hatred.

  “You should pray they keep me in there forever.”

  “Threats?” I mocked. “What happened to all the lovey-dovey?”

  There was a wail in the distance on the night, growing louder.

  “Mark, listen to me,” she said urgently. “I have almost twenty thousand in cash right here in the house. We could leave now, right now, as we are. You have a car. W
e could be in Mexico tomorrow. And believe me I can be very good company.”

  She leaned towards me, eyes shining, lips parted, and for a brief instant I wavered. Maybe I was tired.

  “Sorry, angel. I hear they have lower windows down there.”

  Brakes screeching now, doors slamming, men running to the house.

  “So this is how it ends,” she muttered.

  “This is how it ends,” I confirmed.

  It always does.

  THE END

  [1] Nobody Lives Forever.