found the set missing she'd get so scared for her money she'd rush right away to see if it was safe, and I'd find out where it was at. But when I went back to get Alberta, I found out they had taken her away in a hearse and didn't nobody know where she was. So I went back to her place to see if she'd come home but didn't nobody answer. I'd given Rufus my key, so I snuck down the fire escape again and spied through the window. That's when I found out they'd taken all of her furniture.'
'You went after Rufus,' Grave Digger interjected.
'Yassuh, but not with no knife,' Sugar denied. 'Rufus claimed he hadn't found the money and that's why he sold all the furniture, but he promised to take another look.'
'Then it was Rufus who went to the Jew's warehouse looking for the money,' Grave Digger said.
'I don't know, boss, I'm just telling you what he said.'
'And you went with him,' Coffin Ed put in.
'Nawsuh, boss, I didn't even know where it was at.'
'The Bronx police figure there were two men there when the Jew was killed,' Coffin Ed persisted.
'It sure weren't me,' Sugar denied.
'Let him get on,' Grave Digger said. 'Time is getting short.' He asked Sugar, 'What were you doing all this time?'
'All I was doing was hanging around outside of Rufus's house watching to see what he would do,' Sugar confessed. 'He didn't come out until after it got dark-it must have been about nine-thirty-then he got in his car and drove off. I didn't want to be seen hanging around so much in the street, so I went over to Eighth Avenue and hung out in a bar. I was there when I heard the patrol cars passing, and I knew something had happened. When I got back to Manhattan Avenue, I saw the people crowding in the street and the police looking at Rufus's car; and, when I seen the blood on the seat and all over the sidewalk, I knew it was Rufus who'd been stabbed, even before they found him. I didn't want to get caught there, so I moseyed on back to Eighth. And the next thing I knew I saw the cops arresting Alberta, and I figgered they'd be looking for me next so I beat it. I didn't know the Jew had been killed till I went to Alberta's house and the woman there in the window told me. I was scared to stay there; then the next thing I knew Dummy caught up with me on the street and told me the cops was looking for me-as if I didn't know.'
'Dummy!' Grave Digger echoed. 'What was Dummy doing there?'
'I don't know, boss. I figgered he must have been looking for the money, too.'
When he had finished telling the part he had seen Dummy take in the search, he became terrified at the detectives' anger.
'I was just trying to get it back for her,' he whined.
'You and Dummy teamed up,' Coffin Ed accused.
'Nawsuh, boss, he went his way and I went mine,' Sugar denied. 'I went back to Alberta's place, got in through the window and searched it again. Then I just went to sleep, boss. I was beat. But somebody else came there whilst I was sleeping, 'cause they left the window open-but I don't know whether it was Dummy or not; I didn't wake up.'
'It figures close enough,' Grave Digger said. 'Only it doesn't leave us much time.'
'All I'm scared of is somebody might hurt her,' Sugar said. Coffin Ed knocked him off the stool and started to kick him in the face, but Grave Digger restrained him.
'Easy, Ed, he'll keep,' he said.
They didn't wait to cross-examine him. They didn't have time. Where before it had been urgent, now it was desperate. They booked him on suspicion and left the station running.
'Dummy first?' Coffin Ed suggested.
'Later,' Grave Digger said. 'We got to find the woman before they kill her. Let the money go for the time being.'
22
Grave Digger turned off the lights before turning the corner and cut off the motor before reaching the entrance. The car coasted to a stop in front of the entrance to the tenement on 118th Street.
'Let's just hope we're right,' he said.
They got from the car fast, but with a minimum of sound, and approached the door like grim reapers.
'Pssst!' the big fat black window-watcher called to them.
She looked as though she hadn't left her post. In the shadow she resembled a melted lump of wax.
'If you looking for her, she ain't come back,' she said.
Grave Digger felt his heart sink. Coffin Ed grunted as though he had been punched in the stomach. But neither of them hesitated.
The entrance door was closed. Grave Digger gripped the knob and pushed. The door didn't give.
The woman was leaning over the sill, trying to see what he was doing.
'This door is locked,' he said.
'Locked!' the woman croaked in amazement. 'That door ain't been locked since I lived here, and that's been six years.'
'It's locked now. Who has a key?'
Coffin Ed had his pistol out. The long nickel-plated barrel gleamed in the dim light.
'Move over,' he said. 'I'll blow it open.'
'Easy does it,' Grave Digger cautioned. 'Let's don't risk any noise.'
'I got a key,' the woman said, groaning as she got from her chair. 'But I ain't never used it, and I don't know exactly where it is.'
Coffin Ed pushed at the edge of the door. 'It ought to break easy enough,' he said.
'Take it easy,' Grave Digger said tightly. 'We don't want to make any graves.'
'I found it,' the woman called from the window in a stage whisper.
'Give it here,' Grave Digger said, leaning over to take it.
'It won't work from the outside,' the woman said.
'Then go open it, woman,' Grave Digger said savagely. 'What's wrong with you?'
They heard her door open softly and padded feet slither across the hall floor. The key was inserted with a slight grating sound, and the rusty bolt creaked as it moved.
They entered the front hall. In the dim light the woman looked about to cave in from exhaustion. The skin of her face had shrunken and turned gray, and lines like spider webs had formed about her eyes, which were as red as live coals.
'I been watching just like you told me,' she croaked.
Neither of them answered. With drawn pistols they started up the stairs, taking them three at a time, Grave Digger leading and Coffin Ed at his heels. Their pistols swung in gleaming arcs like the swords of warriors of old.
At the top, they slowed down and moved cautiously. Making as little sound as possible, they bent, their heads together, and listened at the panel of Alberta's door. They did not hear a sound.
Coffin Ed took out his pocket flashlight and held it in his free hand. Grave Digger gripped the knob, tightened it with a slow pull, turned it silently and pushed. The door didn't budge. He took out his own flashlight.
They looked at one another. Grave Digger nodded. They drew back, angled their shoulders and hit the door simultaneously.
The lock broke, and the door was flung back to the wall. They went through the opening side by side and leaped far apart. Their flashlights raked the darkness; their pistols swung in arcs.
The room was empty. The door to the bedroom was closed. In the next flat a man laughed and a woman's voice was heard distinctly through the thin wall: 'I tole him his eyes may shine and his teeth may grit…' From below, the bass notes from a jazz recording came up through the floor as though someone were hammering on the ceiling with the meaty part of their fist.
They crossed the room on tiptoe and flung open the bedroom door. The drawn shade rustled suddenly in the
