‘Wouldn’t I be happy!’ Lucille said, her thin face lighting up. ‘Imagine being without you for a couple of years!’
‘Now, children,’ Hare said disapprovingly. ‘that’s no way to talk. You get off, Sam. See you tonight.’
Karsh grunted. He made a face at Lucille who made a face back at him, then he left the office.
‘I’ll never know why I married that heel,’ Lucille said bitterly. ‘One of these days I’ll put ground glass in his food.’
Hare chuckled.?‘Relax. He’s a smart boy. We wouldn’t be making much money if it wasn’t for him.’
But you don’t have to sleep with him,’ Lucille said, getting to her feet.
Hare repeated, ‘He’s a very smart boy,’ and then drew some papers towards him as he re-settled his bulk in his chair.
Lucille returned to her tiny office. Sitting down in front of the typewriter, she stared moodily out of the window.
*****
It took Tom Henekey forty-eight hours to make up his mind what to do about Lee Hardy. The reason for his long hesitation was that he was sharply aware of the danger he could walk into if he handled Hardy badly.
Hardy wasn’t the kind of man anyone took liberties with He had an organisation. He kept clear of any trouble himself, but he had been known to give the nod to Jacko Smith when someone was being a nuisance, and that someone walked into a beating that left him a hospital case.
Jacko Smith was a character who cooled angry tempers faster than any other strong-arm man on the race tracks. He was a mountain of soft white homosexual flesh with mouse-coloured hair that grew low over a narrow forehead, a fat baby face and a lisp. He went around with Moe Lincoln, a handsome, lean, vicious Jamaican who had been known to throw a knife with deadly effect at twenty yards range. Whenever there was trouble on the race tracks, Jacko and Moe were there too, and the trouble lasted only for a few seconds. There was a time when these two had to resort to violence to quell trouble, but now their mere appearances had an immediate cooling effect, and they had only to stand and stare for any combatants to evaporate like ghosts. Jacko’s lead pipe and Moe’s knife had inflicted too many injuries for troublemakers to need further proof of their deadly efficiency.
Henekey knew he was risking a visit from these two if he needled Hardy, but after weighing the pros and the cons, he decided the pay off would be worth the risk.
So a little after eleven o’clock while he was sitting in his hot little office, he reached for the telephone and called Hardy’s office.
Hardy, himself, answered the call.?‘This is Tom Henekey,’ Henekey said. ‘I run the Park Motel, Ojus. I’d like you to drop around here tonight: say at ten o’clock.’
There was a long pause which encouraged Henekey, then Hardy said, ‘What’s it all about?’ ‘This is an open line,’ Henekey said. ‘Shall we say urgent personal business?’?‘If you have business with me,’ Hardy said, a sudden rasp in his voice, ‘you come to my office.’
‘I’ve had a visit from the cops,’ Henekey said. ‘They are getting nosy. I think you’d better come here and at ten o’clock.’ He gently replaced the receiver, marvelling at his courage to talk this way to Hardy. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his sweating face, then he opened a drawer in his desk and took from it a .38 Police Special. This he examined, satisfying himself it was loaded. He put the gun in his hip pocket.
It was while he was closing the desk drawer that his office door pushed open and a small, dark man with a ferrety face, wearing a shabby grey hat and suit, walked in.
Henekey had been vaguely aware of the sound of an arriving car. This was yet another vulture coming to see the murder cabin, he told himself, or to try to stay the night so he could boast to his friends he had slept in the same bed in which Sue Parnell had been ripped.
Ever since the murder had hit the headlines, Henekey had been pestered with these vultures. The motel was now completely full. He got to his feet to tell this little rat of a man that there were no vacancies.
‘Sorry, full up,’ he said, scarcely bothering to look at Sam.
Karsh who was eyeing him narrowly. Then the light of recognition spread over Karsh’s face and he sucked in his breath with excitement.
‘Well, well, well! Joey Shaw of all punks! Hullo, palsy, how’s the blackmail racket this year?’
Henekey froze. His sallow complexion turned grey. No one had called him Joey Shaw for the past three years. He had firmly convinced himself that he had successfully hidden his identity and got himself lost in out-of-the-way Ojus. He stared at Karsh, then his heart lurched.
Sam Karsh! He of all people; Karsh here!
Karsh’s grin sent a chill down Henekey’s spine.?‘Are you supposed to be Tom Henekey?’ Karsh asked.
Henekey hesitated, then he went slowly back to his desk and sat down.?‘Hear me, palsy?’ Karsh asked. He pushed his hat to the back of his head and taking out a match, he began to explore one of his side teeth.
‘I’m Henekey,’ Henekey said huskily.?‘Well, don’t look so sad. Nice meeting you again. Lemme try to remember. Last time we met was around three years ago. You were operating in Key West,’ Karsh said. ‘Wonderful memory I’ve got, haven’t I? You put the bite on a guy with more money than sense. You had a nice little puss working with you. You tucked her up in his bed and then threatened to tell his wife. You were going to take him for ten grand, only this guy wasn’t so dumb as you thought he looked. He talked to Hare who talked to me, then I talked to you… remember?’
Henekey said, ‘Yes … that’s right.’?‘We had to get a little rough with you. You signed a statement… remember? We even managed to persuade you to sign two other statements concerning two other more successful blackmail attempts. We said we would hold all these statements so long as you behaved yourself. By the way, what happened to the puss? I could have gone for her myself.’
‘I don’t remember,’ Henekey said huskily.?‘Pity… well. I guess there are other pussies around,’ Karsh said. ‘The cops know who you are, Joey?’
‘Don’t call me that!’ Henekey exclaimed.?‘So they don’t know… very, very interesting.’ Karsh came around the counter and sat in the chair opposite Henekey. ‘Well, now what do you know about the Parnell killing, Joey? I’m working on the case. You give me something and I’ll give you something… quid pro quo as they say in the classics. What’s the inside dirt?’
Henekey related a little in his chair.?‘The cops have it all. You can read about it in the papers. She came here, booked in, put in an early call…’
‘I know all that crap,’ Karsh said. ‘I want the meat of it, Joey. The stuff you didn’t spill to the cops.’
‘There was nothing to spill,’ Henekey said, sweat breaking out on his face.?‘But I have something to spill,’ Karsh said. ‘Quid pro quo, Joey.’?‘I tell you there’s nothing to spill,’ Henekey said desperately. ‘Look, Karsh, I’m going straight. I can’t help it if some tart gets knocked off in my motel, can I? Give me a break. If there was something, I’d tell you.’
Karsh stared at him for a long moment, then he shrugged and got to his feet.?‘I don’t mind crooks, thieves, killers or con men. I can even stomach a pimp now and then, but I can’t live alongside a blackmailer. Palsy, in a little while, you’re going to have a load of law in your lap and they’ll be clutching in their big sweaty hands the statement you signed three years ago.’
Henekey who had been in many tough jams before, thought quickly. He knew if Karsh betrayed him to the police, Terrell would be on his neck long before ten o’clock when Hardy was due to arrive. Somehow he had to stall Karsh, get at Hardy, raise a getaway stake and disappear once more.
Karsh was drifting to the door when Henekey said, ‘Wait …’
Karsh paused.?‘Give me a break,’ Henekey said urgently. ‘If I knew something, I’d tell you. I don’t even know who the woman was.’
‘Yeah?’ Karsh sneered and reached the door. ‘This is your last chance, Joey. Spill something or stand for the sirens.’
Henekey appeared to hesitate, then he reached into his pocket and took out a small object which he laid on the desk.
‘Okay, you win. There it is. I swear that’s all I’ve been holding back. I found it by the dead woman’s body.’
Karsh who had been bluffing and hadn’t expected to gain anything from his threats, walked to the desk and regarded the solid gold cigarette lighter that Henekey was offering him. He didn’t touch it, but he examined it closely. This was a costly item, he told himself. He looked searchingly at Henekey.
‘When I found her,’ Henekey explained, ‘I was so fazed, I didn’t know what I was doing. I saw this lighter
