Periera is lyin' quiet. I reckon he's got his too. When I look at him I see that I am right. His eyes are glazin' over.
I look around at Fernandez. He is lyin' sorta twisted up on the floor with his eyes starin' up at the ceilin'.
An' there they are - just two big guys who thought they could beat the rap. Two mugs who thought they could kick around an' do what they wanted. Fernandez, a big, cheap walloper with nothin' but some muscles an' a gun, an' Periera, a dirty little dago, trailin' along behind him. An' they always finish the same way. Either they get it like these two have got it or they finish up in the chair, scared stiff, talkin' about their mothers.
These guys make me feel sick.
I step over Periera an' grab the telephone. I call Metts. Pretty soon he comes on the line.
'Hey- hey, Metts,' I tell him. 'I am speakin' to you from the local morgue -because that's what it looks like. I have gotta coupla stiffs out here an' I reckon that you might collect 'em before mornin'.'
I tell him what has happened. He ain't surprised much. He says that he reckons that Fernandez saved me a lotta trouble by gunnin' Periera an' gettin' himself bumped.
I ask him how things are at his end. He says that everything is swell. Henrietta is stickin' around talkin' things over with Maloney an' tryin' to figure out just what the hell I am playin' at. Maloney is so sleepy that he can't keep his eyes open an' Metts is playin' solitaire by himself.
'Swell,' I tell him. 'Now there's just one little thing that you can do for me. Get one of your boys to get around an' dig up a casket for Sagers. They got him buried around here an' I would like to collect what's left of him an' put him some place that is proper. If you got a mortician handy just get him goin'.'
'OK, Lemmy,' he says. 'I'll say you're a fast worker. Listen, just how long have we gotta stick up around here. Don't you ever want any sleep?'
'Keep goin',' I say. 'This little game is just about endin'. I gotta get over to Henrietta's place an' do a little bitta gumshoem' around there, an' then I reckon that I am through out here. I reckon that I'll be back at your place inside forty minutes. Say, Metts, just how is my little friend Paulette?'
'She's all right,' he says. 'She is just about as happy as a cat with toothache. I went an' saw her down at the jail half an hour ago. She is givin' my woman warden a helluva lotta trouble. She says she wants a lawyer an' I've fixed one for her first thing in the mornin'. Last thing I heard about her was that she had turned in the walkin' up an' down game an' was lyin' down. Maybe she's asleep.'
'Right,' I tell him. 'Now listen, Metts, an' I gotta hunch that this is goin' to be the last thing that I'm goin' to ask you to do for me. In half an hour's time you wake Paulette up. Get her up outa that jail an' bring her to the sittin' room in your house. If she gets funny stick some steel bracelets on her. But don't let her meet Henrietta or Maloney or anybody until I get around. Then when I get back I reckon we'll sew this business up.'
'Okey doke,' he says. 'I'll have it all set for you. So long, Lemmy.'
I hang up the receiver. I go over to the side table an' give myself a drink. Then I light a cigarette an' take a deep drag on it. It tastes good to me.
Then I straighten things up a bit. I get hold of Fernandez an' stick him back in the chair, an' I lay out Periera as best as I can. I pick up a piece of adhesive tape that I find on the desk an' I go over to the door an' take a last look at these two near-mobsters.
Then I switch off the light and scram out. I lock the door behind me and seal it in two or three places with the tape to keep guys out before Metts gets his coroner to work.
Then I stand on the balcony an' look down at the dance floor. The moonlight is comm' through makin' the place fulla shadows.
The Hacienda looks bum. It looks as bum as any place like that looks when the floor ain't filled with dancin' guys an' the band ain't playin' - when there ain't any swell dames doin' their stuff.
The moon makes this dump look sorta tawdry.
I go downstairs an' out by the back way, an' I ease along to the place where I have left the car.
It is a swell night, but I am feelin' good. As I start up the car I realise that I am plenty tired. I step on it an' make for the little rancho where Henrietta lives.
When I get there I bang on the door. Nobody answers so I reckon that the hired girl who looks after Henrietta has gone off some place. Maybe she's scared at bein' alone in the dark.
I get the door open an' I go up to Henrietta's room. When I get inside I can sniff the perfume she uses - Carnation - I always did like Carnation. Right there in front of me is the row of shoes with here an' there a silver buckle or some ornament shinin' in the moonlight. Slung across a chair - just like it was before - is Henrietta's wrap.
I tellya I am sorta pleased at bein' in this room. I am one of them guys who believes that rooms can tell you plenty about the people who live in 'em. I take a pull at myself because I reckon that I am beginnin' to get sentimental an' bein' that way ain't a stong suit of mine - you're tellin' me!
I get to work. I start casin' this room good an' proper. I go over every inch of it but I can't find what I'm lookin' for until, just when I am givin' up hope, I find it.
I open a clothes cupboard that is in the corner. I find a leather lettercase. I open it an' inside I find a bunch of letters. I go through 'em until I find one written by Granworth Aymes. It is a year-old letter an' it looks as if Henrietta has kept it because it has got a library list in it-a list of books that Aymes wanted her to get for him.
I take this over to the light an' I read it. Then I put it in my pocket an' I sit down in the chair that has got the wrap on it an' I do a little thinkin'.
After a bit I get up an' I scram. I lock the rancho door an' get in the car an' start back for Palm Springs.
I have got this job in the bag. Findin' that letter from Aymes has just about sewed it up. I am a tough sorta guy but I have a feelin' that I wanta be ill.
Why? Well, I have handled some lousy cases in my time, an' I have seen some sweet set-ups. I been bustin' around playin' against the mobs ever since there have been mobsters an' there ain't much for me to learn.
But believe it or not this job is the lousiest, dirtiest bit of mayhem that's ever happened my way. It's so tough that it would make a hard-boiled murderer hand in his shootin' irons an' look around for the local prayer meetin'.
I woulda liked to have seen Fernandez fried. That guy oughta got the chair, an' I'm sorry I hadta shoot him. But before I'm through with this job, three-four other people are goin' to take that little walk that runs from the death house to the chair an' when they take it I'm goin' to have a big drink an' celebrate.
I start singin' Cactus Lizzie. It sorta takes the taste outa my mouth.
CHAPTER 14
I LOOK at 'em.
I am in the chair behind Metts' desk in his sittin' room. It is twenty minutes to four. Metts is in a big armchair in the corner smokin' his pipe an' lookin' as if this sorta meetin' was just nothin'. Henrietta is sittin' with Maloney on a big sofa on the right of the room, an' Paulette is in a chair on the other side smilin' a sorta wise little smile just as if we was all nuts except her.
Everything is very quiet. An' the room is kinda restful because Metts has turned the main light off an' there is only an electric standard lite in the comer behind Paulette. The light is fallin' on her face an' makin' her look sweller than ever.
I tell you dames are funny things. Take a look at this Paulette. Here she is, a swell dame with a swell figure, good looks, poise an' personality, but she can't play along like an ordinary dame. She has to go around raisin' hells bells.
I often wonder what it is that starts a dame off like this. I wonder what bug gets into 'em an' turns 'em into trouble-starters, because I never yet knew a crook or a bitta dirty work that some dame wasn't at the bottom of, an' I reckon that the French guy who said 'cherchez Ia femme' knew his onions. An' I reckon every case I have ever
