Doorway to Death

“You know Freddie?” he asked her in surprise.

“Well, not really. He's a very close friend of two good friends of mine, though. Rose and Terry Lund. I've met him twice, I think, at their place in Atlanta. He was managing a hotel there before he went out to the coast. I was the most surprised person in the world when I saw his name on the hotel stationery here. I went by his office, and even sent in a note, but he must have been terribly busy; his secretary came out and apologized that he just didn't have a moment, even, to visit.”

“I don't know what the hell could have been so damn Important that he didn't have a minute for a cash customer-”

“Oh, it was just impulse, really… seeing the familiar name. I don't know what I'd have talked about if he had come out.” She looked up at him gravely. “I hate to go back.”

He held out his hand, and she took it, her hand lost in his. “Keep punchin', kid. You'll be back-”

“But not before I know it. Good-bye, Johnny. It's been fine.”

He saluted, opened the door, and stepped into the corridor. He was half a dozen doors down the hall before he heard her door close behind him. He took the service elevator down to the lobby, and Vic Barnes looked up from the registration desk as Johnny stepped out of the cab. “Got a minute, John-?”

“Sure, Vic.” He shuffled in the bearlike stride over to the desk and looked at the stocky man inquiringly. “Trouble?”

“You remember that 938 you were talking about last night?”

“938?” Johnny frowned. “Oh, yeah, that was that hard looking ticket that ordered the beer. Or rather, he was in the room. Why?”

“He blew. No-pay. I got a note here from Chet to see him about it in the morning.”

“Bags and all?”

“Clean. Chefs trying to pin it on our shift.”

“If you have any trouble with Chet, you let me know. He didn't get out of here on our shift. Listen. Look up 1421, I think it was; Dumas. That's the guy that was in 938's room.”

Vic glanced at the room rack. “Vacant now.” He picked up a handful of cards and started turning them over; he stopped a third of the way through the pile. “There he is. 9:30 A.M. checkout. Everything in order.”

“Damn funny,” Johnny said thoughtfully. “I'll ask Gus in the morning to find out how many bags he took out with him. If he had a couple extra we can sic Chet on him.” He glanced around the quiet lobby. “You send Paul out for something?”

“He's on the board, relieving Sally. She went out in the alley for a smoke.”

“The alley? For God's sake, there's still a ladies' lounge in this place, isn't there?” He was conscious of Vic's eyes on him curiously. “Keep an eye on this menagerie.”

He walked quickly to the elevator, dropped to the sub-basement, stationed the car, and walked out into the alley through the partly opened heavy iron door. He saw her right away, resting with her back against the building wall, the glow of her cigarette softening the sharp lines of the thin face. She turned at the sound of his steps on the cement. “Oh, I'm glad you came down, Johnny. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Me first, ma. What's the matter with havin' your smoke in the ladies' room?”

“It's hot in there.”

“So it's hot. You do your smokin' in there from now on. You lookin' to tie into the same buzzsaw I tangled with last night?”

“Don't be ridiculous!”

“Who's bein' ridiculous? I don't know what's goin' on around here, Sally. So far they've been able to lean on me whenever they took the notion, which means they know my habits. If they also happen to know that you and I aren't exactly strangers, I don't want them reachin' for me through you.”

“But no one ever pays any attention to me, Johnny!”

“I might like to keep it that way.”

“Such gallantry!” she smiled. “In that mood, how about answering a question for me?”

“I don't know the answers to any questions.”

“You know this answer.”

He studied her for a moment. “Shoot.”

“Johnny, what happened to Max?”

“He became deceased.”

“I can read, I hope! What I want to know is what you had to do with it.”

“You think I scragged him, ma? You an' Joe Dameron.”

“You didn't, did you, Johnny?”

“No, ma, I didn't. They found me upstairs, but I got lucky. It was on the elevator, and they were in each other's way. I christianized the crowd, dropped down here, and unloaded. They were all breathing, if that's what's botherin' you.”

“But the paper said he was s-shot-!”

“Not by me. I don't like guns.”

“Honestly? Then why were you beaten up last night? Look at you… you look like a pirate.”

“I already told you I don't know. I think Max was the front man for something that's supposed to be headquartered here, and he was supposed to get me in line. When he fumbled it, someone further up the line decided Max should abdicate.”

Sally shivered and moved a little closer to him. “Where does Freddie fit into all this, then?”

“I'm not even sure he does. He sat up in my room last night drinking my Scotch and apologized for twenty minutes straight for thinking I was nothin' but a fourteen carat gigolo. That was after he'd heard Joe Dameron shoot off his mouth about where him an' me had put in a little time together. Freddie pumped me up, down, and sideways, tiptoed all around the edges of a proposition, and then backed off. Maybe when he realized how it was with Willie and me.”

“Well, if he didn't proposition you, why did you expect to see his name on the list of telephone calls I kept for you?”

“A hunch, that's all. Joe Dameron thinks this is a big noise around here; if he's right, I'd already tangled with the militia once, see, and made it stick. If Freddie's in the chain of command and had changed his mind about propositioning me, I figured to hear an echo before I began feeling a little cocky. Only thing, I heard it so damn quick it don't hardly seem likely Freddie had time to trigger the action.”

Sally drew a long breath. “I never heard of anything so … so fantastic. What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I've got one fish in a rain barrel I'm goin' to draw a bead on; I know something about Freddie's room that he doesn't. This old place has been carved up so many times changing rooms and making apartments that in a few places there's walkways between the walls. One of them is just outside the north wall of his room. It'll be a tight fit, but if I can get in there I can stand with just a little plaster and paper between us, and if he's got anything interesting to say I should be able to hear it without too much trouble. I'm telling you this now because you'll have to cover for me while I'm browsin'. I'll let you know before I go aloft.”

“Johnny, why don't you go to the police?”

“That mountain's already been to Mohammed, ma. What really kicked this whole thing off was Joe Dameron blowin' in here and giving me the fraternity grip and a sales talk about signing up for a little cruise. Freddie heard some and guessed the rest.”

He scowled across the alley, thinking back to the scene in the little manager's office. “Joe's in a racket where you can go just so far up the ladder, and then you wait for someone on a rung above to die or retire before you can move up. He's buckin' for another stripe, and he's not fussy how he gets it. He wants all the credits he can get in the meantime so someone like himself don't submarine him from beneath. I don't think he really thinks I killed Max, but he's perfectly willing to hold it over my head and guarantee to keep his bloodhounds off if I'll do what he wants. When I figured his angle, I put it to him straight. I made him admit that if and when I cold-decked the set up for him around here, the umbrella was gone. I don't need the umbrella, you understand, but I got mad anyway and told him what I thought of people workin' with collapsible gear.”

Sally stubbed her cigarette out against the side of the building. “I've got to get back to the board. Please be careful, Johnny?”