if I would have to dream up some kind of disguise if I was to have any freedom of movement. If I dyed my hair a darker shade, wore dark glasses and a change of clothing I might get by. Tampa City was teeming with visitors. I should be able to lose myself in the crowd.
I was still making plans when the fat man put his head around the door.
‘Benn’s out here asking for you - okay?’
I got up.
‘Sure. Can he come in?’
The fat man nodded and went away. A moment or so later Sam Benn came in.
He was a little man, small boned, with a shock of iron-grey hair, a thin pointed face and deepset, expressionless eyes. He was wearing a leather windcheater, zipped up to his chin and a pair of dirty grey slacks. He came over to me and shook hands.
‘Just how bad is it?’ he asked. How hot is the heat?’
‘I was caught in a house with two dead men in it,’ I said. ‘The police are convinced I did the killing.’
Benn grimaced.
‘That’s nice. What do you want me to do? Get you out of town?’
‘No. I want somewhere safe where I can operate. I’ve got to find the killer if I’m to beat the rap.’
‘You’re kidding yourself. You’d better get out of town.’
‘Not for a day or so. Captain Bradley said you could take care of me. Can’t you?’
‘Oh, I guess so. The things I do for that man.’ Benn suddenly grinned. ‘I’ll hide you up for a while, but not for long. I’m sticking my neck out. Now listen, my car’s parked at the end of the street. I’ll go and fetch it and come past here slowly. Fats will give you the tip when to move. I’ll have the car door open. Dive in quick. Okay?’
I said it was okay.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I
It was after eleven o’clock before I rolled out of the wall bunk in Benn’s hideout, and walked, yawning, to the toilet basin to sluice water over my face.
The hideout was a professional job and I wondered what its history was. Located under Benn’s barroom and made of concrete and steel, it had an elaborately concealed entrance, an emergency exit that led to an alley behind the bar, a refrigerator full of food, a radio, a television set, a telephone, a table, three armchairs and a comprehensive stock of liquor.
While I shaved I had the radio on to the short wave police signals, but the routine stuff that came out of the speaker wasn’t concerned with me.
Benn came in as I was cleaning the razor. He had a couple of brown paper parcels which he put on the table. From his pockets he produced four small packages and a folded newspaper.
‘I guess I haven’t forgotten anything,’ he said, wandering over to plug in the electric kettle.
I unfolded the newspaper. The double murder had been given a spread. Lieutenant Carson said in his statement that the police had a number of important clues and they were anxious to interview a tall, dark, well- built man, wearing a dark grey suit and dark hat who they thought might be able to give them information that would lead to the solution of the murders. They didn’t mention my name, and I was surprised that the description was so vague.
‘That you?’ Benn asked as he put two eggs in a saucepan.
‘Yeah,’ I said and taking the hair dye he had got me over to the toilet basin I started to tone my hair down to a darker shade. By the time he had soft boiled the eggs, made some coffee and toast I was through. The extra shade made a difference. He had brought me a twist of black hair and a small bottle of spirit gum, but before I made myself a moustache I sat down to breakfast.
Benn leaned against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers and watched me eat.
‘Have you known Captain Bradley, long?’ I asked him as I decapitated an egg.
‘Twelve years. He was my commanding officer during the war. He saved my life twice, talked me out of a court martial, got me three weeks leave when my wife was dying and when the General said no one was to have leave,’ Benn said, staring at the glowing end of his cigarette. ‘I’d cut my right arm off for him if it would do him any good.’
‘Some place you have here.’
He grinned.
‘Don’t get wrong ideas, Bud. This was here when I bought the joint. It used to be one of Capone’s liquor dumps. Now and then someone wants to cool off and it comes in handy. When Cap Bradley was in charge I kept it shut, but now these skates are running the police force I oblige where I can.’ He took a drag from his cigarette. ‘It’ll cost you twenty a day. I’m saving up for a trip to Europe, otherwise I wouldn’t charge you.’
I grinned at him.
‘That’s okay. Make it thirty. I run an expense sheet.’
He sighed enviously.
‘That’s something I’ve always wanted to do. You’ve got nothing to worry about as long as you stay here.’
I decapitated the second egg.
‘Take the weight off your feet.’
He reached for a bottle of beer, levered off the cap with his teeth, then sat down, nursing the bottle.
‘I can’t stay long. I’ve work to do.’
‘How do I get hold of you when I want you?’
‘Use the telephone. I’m the only one who answers it.’
‘Have you got anyone to run messages for me? There’s a package I want taken to Welden.’
‘I’ve got a boy, but he might talk. Can’t you mail it?’
‘It’s got to get there today.’
‘Safer to mail it.’
‘Okay. Now can you get me some writing paper? A lot of it?’
‘There’s some in the table drawer.’
‘Fine. I guess for the moment that covers it.’
He took a long pull at the bottle of beer, sighed, wiped his lips on the back of his hand and stood up.
‘You’ve got plenty of food. Just help yourself. I’ll be down again.’
I took out my billfold, checked my money, then gave him two fifties. I had already given him the money for the things he had bought me, and when he took the tray and left me, I undid the parcels and put on the brown sports suit he had got for me. It was a good fit without being over smart. I could be one of a crowd in it without attracting attention.
I spent half an hour making myself a moustache. It was a hair-by-hair job, and when I had trimmed it, it looked the genuine article. With the new suit, the toned down hair and the moustache I doubted if even Bernie would recognize me. I had trouble in recognizing myself.
I made a parcel of the .38 automatic, disguising its shape as well as I could. Then I sat down by the telephone and called police headquarters at Welden. When I got through I asked for Police Captain Creed.
‘This is Sladen,’ I said when he came on the line. ‘I’ve got a report and a gun for you. I want you to have them today. Can you send someone over to pick them up?’
‘I could do,’ Creed said. ‘What’s this about Hartley? Who rubbed him out?’
‘Your pals here think I did. That’s my description in the papers. They’re looking for me now. Until I get things straightened out I’m keeping out of sight, and out of your sight too. You’ll get all the details in the report. The gun did the killing. I want it checked for prints and ownership. I’ll leave it with Sam Benn who runs a bar on Maddox Street. Get someone over fast for it.’
‘How do they hook you into the killing?’ Creed asked sharply.
‘I was there a few minutes after it happened. Lassiter caught me nosing around. I ducked out fast.’
‘Look, Sladen, if they want you . . .’
‘I know; I know. I’m not asking for help. I can handle this myself. Get the gun checked for me. That’s all I
