There was a pause. “No, I guess I'll wait.” Grantham sounded worried.
“Listen, tell me. Maybe I can get hold of him.”
“It's one of the girls. She was strangled last night.”
Jean's eyes narrowed. “Well, what of it? Tootsie can't do anything about that.”
“I know he can't; but he's gotta know.”
“All right, I'll tell him. Who did it?”
“The cops don't know.”
“I didn't ask that. I said who did it?”
Again there was a long pause. Then Grantham said, “You're not to tell Mendetta this, it'll only make him mad, but I think Raven did it.”
Jean sat up. “Why do you say that?”
“One of the patrolmen thought he recognized him going into the girl's apartment. You know, O'Hara. He keeps an eye on that beat. I slipped him a hundred bucks to keep his mouth shut.”
Jean thought for a moment. “Raven?” she repeated. “I wonder. Does that mean?”
“I don't know, but he said he'd start something, didn't he?”
“He said he'd get Tootsie. Listen, what are you going to do if he gets Tootsie?”
“Don't talk like that,” Grantham said sharply. “He won't get him. Tootsie's too big. He's too well protected.”
“I know, but suppose he does. Raven's dangerous; he might, you know. What will you do?”
“What the hell can I do? I couldn't afford to fight him. He's got quite a big mob, and they're dangerous. At this time, we can't afford a gang battle.”
Jean smiled. “You mean you'd let him walk in?”
“What else could I do? The boys only keep together because of Tootsie. If Tootsie went, they'd rat.”
“I know.”
There was a long silence.
“Listen, Jean, you don't think?”
“I don't think anything, but you and me've got to look after ourselves, haven't we?”
“Well, yes, I guess that's so, but nothing's going to happen to Tootsie. I
Jean smiled again. “I'm glad to hear you say so,” she said, and hung up. She lay thinking for a long time, then she picked up the telephone and called a number.
Someone asked roughly what she wanted.
“I want to speak to Raven,” she said softly. “Yes, tell him it's Jean Mendetta. Yes, he'll speak to me all right,” and she lay back, an amused smile on her mouth, waiting for Raven to come to the phone.
7
JAY TOOK a taxi to the east side of the town. He was feeling pleased with himself. As soon as he had reached the office he had got Gerald Fisher on the phone and asked him about the scene Rogers had told him about.
Fisher remembered it quite well. “What do you want to know about that for?” he asked suspiciously.
“I want to find the guy who made the scene,” Jay said. “He might have an important bearing on a big case we're working on now. I don't say he has, but there is just the chance. I was hoping you might help me.”
“As a matter of fact, I do know him. He used to be one of my clerks. That was why I was so surprised to see him at the 22nd Club. His name's Fletcher. Do you want his address? I could get it for you.”
“Sure, that's just what I do want.”
“Just a moment, then.” Jay heard Fisher say something, then he came on the line again. “They're looking it up. We've got in on record, I know.”
“He doesn't work with you any more?”
“Good God, no! I couldn't have a fellow in my office like that. He made a frightful fool of himself. He had to be tossed out. I gave him the sack next morning.”
“What was the trouble, Mr. Fisher?” Jay asked.
“I don't know. He must have been drunk. He kept on yelling about his sister. I mean to say, that sort of thing isn't done at the 22nd. No, I had to get rid of him.”
Jay grinned. “Sure,” he said.
“Ah, here's the address.”
Jay wrote it down, thanked Fisher, and hung up. He thought maybe he was going on a fool's errand, but it was worth trying, anyhow.
The taxi drew up outside a large tenement house. The driver said apologetically, “This is it, boss.”
Jay got out and paid him off. He walked up the steps and rang on the bell. The place was dirty and horribly sordid. He felt people watching him behind ragged curtains all down the street.
An old woman, very dirty, with a sack for an apron, opened the door and looked at him suspiciously.
Jay raised his hat. “Mr. Fletcher in?” he asked.
“He's on the top floor. You can go up.” She stood aside to let him in. “You tell that guy to pay his rent. I'm gettin' sick of askin' him myself.”
Jay ignored her and went up the stairs. A big negro lounged against the wall on the first landing and looked at him insolently. As Jay passed he spat on the floor.
On the top floor a large fat woman sat just outside her door, peeling potatoes. Jay asked her where Fletcher's room was. She jerked her thumb to a door without saying anything.
Jay rapped on the door and pushed it open.
A man lay on a dirty mattress. He'd got a three days' growth of beard, and Jay saw he was blind in one eye.
He sat up, a scared look on his face, as Jay entered.
“What do you want?” he said. He had quite a cultured voice.
Jay looked round the dirty room and grimaced. “I'm Ellinger of the
Fletcher got off the bed. “I don't want to talk to anyone,” he said.
Jay thought he looked horribly thin. He began to cough and he had to sit on the bed again.
Jay pulled up a rickety chair and sat down too. “Listen, Fletcher, don't fly off the handle. You're lookin' in a bad shape. I might be able to help you.”
When he had stopped coughing, Fletcher said rather wildly, “Look what they did!”pointing to his eye.
“They did that. Threw me down a flight of stone steps. One of the heels hit me in my eye with his elbow.”
Jay lit a cigarette. He didn't like the smell of dirt in the room. “That's what I've come to see you about,” he said. “What's it all about? If I can help you I will.”
Fletcher looked at him suspiciously. “Why?” he demanded. “Why should you want to help me?”
“Now don't get that way. Been out of a job some time, haven't you? Now come on, spill it.”
“It's Janet,” Fletcher began. Then suddenly his thin face crumpled and he began to cry.
Jay pushed his hat to the back of his head and blew out his cheeks. He was very embarrassed. “What you want is a drink,” he said. “You wait. I'll get you one.”
Fletcher controlled himself with an effort. “No, don't go away,” he said. “I'm all right. I guess I'm sort of low. I haven't had much grub.”
“Well, come on. I'll buy you a lunch.” Jay got up. Fletcher shook his head. “Not now. Later, perhaps, but I want to tell you.” Jay sat down again. “Go ahead,” he said. “It's my sister, Janet. She went away one morning to work and she didn't come back. I've hunted everywhere. I've told the police, but they can't find her.”
Jay sighed. He knew there were a lot of girls in St. Louis who went out and didn't come back any more.
“Maybe she went off and got married. Maybe she thought she'd like to go to Hollywood. There're a lot of girls
