He pushed open the frosted?panel door and walked in. Henry, a big fat man in his shirt?sleeves, was pacing up and down his small office. His cigar hung in tatters from his teeth. He looked up and glared at Jay.
“Shut the door!” he barked. “You've been a long time coming.”
Jay lounged over to an arm?chair and sat down. He hung his legs over one of the arms and shut his eyes.
“I'm sorry, Chief,” he said; “I came as fast as I could.”
Henry continued to pace up and down, ferociously chewing his tattered cigar. “What do you know about Gerry Hamsley?” he barked suddenly.
Jay shrugged. “Oh, he's a nice kid. He dances at Grantham's joint. Gigolobut a better type of the usual breed.”
“Yeah?” Henry planted himself in front of Jay. “A better type, hey? Well, let me tell you that guy has started somethin' that will mean my job and yours as well.”
Jay opened his eyes. “You don't say,” he said. “What's it all about?”
“The little swine tried to rape Poison's wife last night.”
“What?” Jay sat up, his face startled, then he remembered Mrs. Poison and suddenly began to laugh. He lay limply in his chair and howled with laughter. Henry stood over him, his face black with fury.
“Shut up, you coarse?minded Mick!” he yelled. “There's nothing to laugh about. Do you hear me? Shut up!”
Jay mopped his eyes. “I'm sorry, Chief, but damn it, you ain't swallowin' a yam like that? Gee! Is it likely?
She's old enough to be his mother, an' she's as fat an' as ugly as an elephant.”
Henry snarled, “Want me to phone Poison and tell him that? He's been on to me. My God! You ought to have heard him. He's in a terrible way.”
“Well, what's behind it? You know as well as I, all that's bull. What's he want you to do?”
Henry struck the air with his clenched fists. “He wants Hamsley on a plate. He wants Grantham's joint closed down. He's yelling murder, an' he's got blood in his eye.”
Just then the phone rang. Henry looked at it doubtfully. “That's him again, I bet,” he said, lifting the receiver off gingerly.
From where Jay sat he could hear a sudden bellow come over the line. Henry winced and nodded to Jay.
“Yes, Mr. Poison. Sure, Mr. Poison. I quite understand, Mr. Poison.”
Jay grinned. It did him good to see his chief sweat. “Why, yes, Mr. Poison. He's here now. I'll tell him to come to the phone.” Henry looked at Jay with a grim little smile.
Jay waved his hands frantically, but Henry handed him the phone. “Mr. Poison wants you,” he said, and stood, mopping his face.
This was the first time that Jay had ever spoken to the proprietor of the
Something exploded in his ear and he hurriedly removed the receiver. Holding it almost at arm's length, he could plainly hear Poison's roar. “Ellinger? You the guy I pay each week to be my crime reporter?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Say sir when you speak to me, you young cub!” Poison bawled.
Jay grinned at Henry. He pursed his mouth and made silent rude signs. “Yes, Mr. Poison,” he said.
“Get after Grantham, do you hear? I want everything you can find about him. Get after that swine Hamsley. I'm going to close down the 22nd Club and I'm going to break Hamsley. I want action. Get out now and do something. Now give me Henry.”
Jay handed the phone back to Henry and sat back fanning himself with his hat.
Henry listened for a few moments with an agonized look on his face, and then the line went dead. He hung up gently. “The guy's crazy,” he said miserably. “He's been on to the D.A.'s office. He's been on to the police.
They can't do anything. Grantham's in the clear. His joint's respectable.”
Jay scratched his head. “Why doesn't he give Hamsley in charge?”
Henry came round the desk and pounded the top of Jay's chair. “For the love of God, don't say a word about Mrs. Poison. No one's to know about that. Poison only told me because I flatly refused to touch Hamsley. I'm not supposed to have told you.”
Jay grinned uneasily. “Sure, if that yarn got around, Poison would be laughed out of town. Surely, he doesn't believe it?”
Henry shrugged. “Of course he doesn't. It's the old cow that's causin' the trouble. Poison's scared to death of her. She's after Hamsley's bloodand you'd better find out why.”
“Listen,” Jay pleaded. “I'm a crime reporter. What you want is a nice private dick, not me. Let's get Pinkerton on the job. He'll turn up the dirt quick, an' we'll all be happy.”
Henry scowled at him. “You heard Poison. Go out an' get busy. Don't come back until you've got something.”
Jay got to his feet. “For cryin' out loud,” he said. “If this doesn't beat anything that's ever come my way.
What chance have I got to hang anythin' on Hamsley? Besides, he ain't such a bad guy.”
Henry sat down behind his desk. “I'm warning you,” he said seriously, “you've got to find something. If we don't give the old man what he wants, we'll be out. I know him when he gets like that.”
Jay stood by the door. “But what?” he said. “What am I likely to find? Grantham's all right, ain't he?”
“As far as I know. I hate to say it, Jay, but if you don't find something, we'll have to frame those two guys.
I'm getting too old to look for anything else.”
Jay shook his head. “Not on your life,” he said. “I ain't framing anyone because Poison's wife thinks she's young again. I'll sniff around. If nothin' shows up I'm resigning. But I ain't framin' anyone.”
Henry sighed. “Perhaps you're right,” he said. “Anyway, for God's sake dig hard.”
“I'll dig all right,” Jay returned, and went out, shutting the door behind him.
3
THERE WAS a cop at the street corner, standing watching the traffic, swinging his night?stick aimlessly.
Raven saw him as he came out of the alley, and he stepped back hurriedly into the shadows. Obscenities crowded through his brain, and his thin wolfish face twisted with frustrated rage.
The cop wandered to the edge of the kerb, hesitated, then began to pace down the street.
Raven edged further down the alley, further into the sheltering darkness. He'd let the cop go past. Across the road he could see the large block of apartments with their hundreds of brightly lit windows. On the sixth floor, Tootsie Mendetta had a six?room suite. From where he stood Raven could see Mendetta's windows.
He stood against the wall, his head thrust forward and his square shoulders hunched. He looked what he was, a bitter, screwed?up thing of destruction.
The cop wandered to the mouth of the alley. Raven could see him looking carelessly into the darkness. The cop took off his cap and blotted his face with a large white handkerchief. It was a hot night. Standing there, his mind dwelling on a long, cold drink, he was completely unaware that Raven waited so patiently for him to go away. He put his cap on again and moved on past the alley, on towards the bright lights, towards the cafe where he could bum a drink on the quiet.
Raven gave him a few seconds, and then he walked to the mouth of the alley and glanced up and down the street. He saw nothing there to alarm him, and squaring his shoulders he stepped into the light of the street lamps.
In his apartment Mendetta amused himself with a pack of cards. He held a cigar between his thick lips and a glass of whisky?and?soda stood at his elbow. He played patience.
The apartment was silent except for the faint shuffling of cards as Mendetta altered their position. He liked patience, and he played with tense concentration. He heard Jean, in the bathroom, drawing off water, and he
