The barkeep bent down and picked up a big sleeping tomcat from behind the bar, said, “Tell him yourself.” He laughed at me—with his eyes—as I walked out. He was a sharp joker.
5
I FELT SO RESTLESS, baffled, I didn't know what to do. I drove over to East 28th Street, to a studio gym run by Prof. Amatu, an old Japanese man with a face as wrinkled as a prune who was my judo teacher. After I got into my judo clothes, I did some warm-up exercises, practiced a few falls, and he took me on. He was about my height and even though I was half his age, he threw me twice in succession, jarred the tired restlessness out of me.
Then we worked on a hold I was specializing on—use it to get my Second Degree Belt. This was a variation of the overhead throw, where you sit down, pulling your opponent with you, your legs kicking into his gut, sending him sailing over your head. Only now I suddenly let go of his shirt or coat, got a neck grip. If I held on to his neck right, the force of his own body going over would snap the neck.
After we'd worked out in slow motion Prof. Amatu said, “Now you work with dummy-man—this much too dangerous.”
I worked with a full-sized dummy and the old man watched, said, “Very good, very fast.”
“And frustrating as hell. I'm curious to see if this will really work.”
He said softly, “Never be curious about death, my student. I pray you will never have need of this hold.”
“Sure but... seems silly to perfect something and never use it.”
“No, a weapon is a force in itself, without ever being put into use. A gun need never be fired to be an effective force. Remember, knowledge is the greatest weapon of all.”
I didn't feel up to hearing a lot of philosophical cracks, so I showered and went back to the office. Bobo said Shirley was out to lunch. I hardly touched my can to my desk chair when the phone rang. A man's voice obviously disguised, said, “Darling?”
“Yeah, this is Hal Darling.”
“You've lost your girl, your business. When you going to smarten up, play ball?” There was the click of the guy hanging up.
Bobo said, “Sure a short call. Who was it?”
“Wish I knew. Some punk telling me to play ball.”
“Jeez, Hal, what's going on here? Anita killed, office looking like a wastebasket, jobs called off and... Hal, you working with the cops? I mean, don't try to play badge like Anita was...”
“Can it, Bobo. Sure I'm working with the cops, but... I also am doing everything I can, too. As for the rest of this puzzle, your guess is probably better than mine.” I took out a scratch pad, wrote down the name of every person I'd seen or heard about yesterday, today. It sometimes stirs your brain, but now it didn't do a thing. Will Johnson's name popped up three times, “Cat” Franklin was down twice, seeing him at the club last night, being in his bar this morning... but it didn't mean anything.
As I was playing around with names, the phone rang and I motioned for Bobo to grab the extension on Shirley's desk as I picked up my receiver. A man said, “This the Darling agency?”
It wasn't the voice that called before. “Yeah, Hal Darling speaking.”
“I'm Edmund Winn, Mr. Darling, manager of the Light Fantastic. Would you be interested in bidding for the police concession in our hall?”
“What? I sure would!” The Light Fantastic was the biggest dance hall in the city, used two dozen guards
“I've heard of your good work, am favorably impressed. If you'll kindly send me your bid today, I'll give you my decision in a day or so.”
“Be in the mails within an hour.”
“Splendid. Good day.”
I hung up. Bobo yelled, “What is this? They usually hire the big outfits like Pinkertons, Burns. What a break this can be for us!”
“First my business is taken away, then I get the biggest deal of my career. Somebody is playing cat and mouse with us, and I have a strong hunch who the cat is. Franklin own the Light Fantastic?”
“Everybody knows that.”
“Wanted to be sure.” This was the third time the 'Cat's' name had come up in less than twenty-four hours. It was two-fourteen. “Bobo, ask around, find out where Franklin's office is. Going to pay him a visit.”
“That smart move, Hal?”
“I got to stop this running in circles. Get going, I have to wait here till three—the postman is coming.”
“What postman?” Bobo asked, getting his cap.
“Some... eh... crummy case we got in yesterday. Be back by three-thirty.” I was really playing this too close to the cuff, not telling Salts; or even Bobo about the rock.
6
When Shirley returned, I sent off the bid to the Light Fantastic, then showed her the forms for checking our nightly patrol service—so far no storekeeper had canceled that—and the rest of the office routine. She was good, caught on fast.
Bobo returned at three, said the “Cat” had offices under the name of the City Amusement Agency over on Fifth Avenue and 43rd Street. I waited till three-thirty, called Will's house. Thelma said, “Oh my, Mr. Darling, he must have been so excited he forgot to call you. Will's rehearsing!”
