I didn't hurry him. This was news to me, and I wasn't sure where it was getting me. “How come?” I said.
Ackie turned his eyes on me. “Even my boss has got stock in the business,” he said. “He's told us boys to lay off. We don't know, but we've got a good idea that the Mackenzie Fabric Corporation is a blind, and another racket is goin' on behind the scenes that pays the big divs. The guys who've got their dough in there don't want to know anythin'—they're scared sick that some smart monkey like you'll come along an' blow the lid off.”
I got to my feet. “What's the racket?”
Ackie shrugged. “Gawd knows. Could be anythin'. The point is that so many of the big shots have got their dough in the business that it's mighty dangerous to start anything.”
“Vessi was the mug?”
Ackie nodded. “Sure Vessi was the mug. Some guy didn't like his rake-off, so he plugs Richmond. This guy was connected with the firm. They couldn't prosecute him without blowin' the gaff, so they find a fall-guy. Vessi gets the killin' pushed on to him. That's the story, Bud—now forget it, will you?”
I said: “Who's Lu Spencer?”
Ackie shot me a quick look. “Spencer was Richmond's right hand. He's the guy who's taken over now Richmond's dead.”
“Lu Spencer was the guy who killed Richmond, huh?”
Ackie's face went blank. “I wouldn't know that,” he said, a sudden caution in his voice.
“Okay, Mo,” I said, “you've given me the dope. Thanks a lot.”
Ackie got to his feet. “You ain't goin' to start any trouble?” he asked. There was a glint in his eye that told me he was hoping I would.
“Suppose we don't go into that?” I returned. “Whatever happens, I'll play this carefully. Didn't they say that Richmond was playing around with Vessi's girl, and that's why Vessi knocked him off?”
Ackie nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “that was the angle.”
“Who was she, Mo?”
Ackie frowned. “She was a French moll,” he said slowly. “They kept her covered up at the trial. Andree somethin' or other... they call her Blondie on her beat.”
I scratched my head. “She a professional dame?” I asked, surprised.
“Vessi liked them to keep themselves, you know.”
“I guess I want to meet this dame,' I said, I might get an angle....”
“I don't know where she hangs out, but she goes into the Hotcha Bar most nights.”
I patted him on the back. “Here, Bud, take the rye, I said, turning back to the table. “I guess you've earned it.”
Ackie sneered. “Come to, bum,” he said, “I got that already. An' say, who's the guy that's putting up ten grand for this story to be blown up?”
I pushed him to the door. “It's my big Aunty Belle,” I said, shoving him into the dark corridor.
“Yeah?” he said. “You mean your big Aunt Fanny, don'tcher?”
I shut the door behind him.
When I was sure that he had gone, I went to the cupboard and took out another bottle of rye, stripped off the tissue paper and pulled the cork. I took the bottle into the other room and sat on the bed. I undressed slowly, giving my mind some exercise. When I was ready, I fetched a glass and some ginger seltzer and got into bed.
This all wanted thinking about. It seemed to me that I'd got a job on. That didn't worry me, but I liked to see where I was heading.
Right now, I wasn't doing too badly. I was selling articles where and when I liked. Editors liked my stuff and paid fancy rates for it. I'd got a nice little apartment, and enough booze to keep me oiled for twenty-four hours a day.
I leant forward and took a poke at the rye.
Suppose I did start something, and there was an investigation? If the Mackenzie-whatever-they-called-it turned out a ramp, then there was going to be a bad smell around, and I would be the cause of it. Maybe the newspapers would warn me off... maybe I'd lose everything I'd got... just for ten grand. Looked at from that angle, it wasn't even interesting.
I put the glass back on the little table by my bed and lit a cigarette. When I got into bed with a load of grief like this, I always thought it would be swell to have some hot-looking dame right beside me to listen to my beef and give me an angle to work on.
A woman can be a lot of comfort, and the more I thought about it, the lower I got. 'I was just getting in a pretty bad shape when the telephone snapped me out of my pipe-dream.
As I reached for the 'phone, I looked over at the clock. It was just after two.
“Yeah?” I said, wondering who the hell it was.
“Is that Nick Mason?”
As soon as I heard that hard, metallic voice I sat up. My arm jogged the glass of rye, which went over with a crash. Even the spilling of good liquor didn't take my mind off that voice.
Four days ago she had rung me up. Without saying who she was, she told me that I'd get a pass to attend Vessi's execution and I was to try and get a word with him. If I thought I could expose a frame-up, she'd pay me ten thousand dollars. She had hung up before I could say a word.
Boy! Was I intrigued! I could handle that sort of mystery stuff from dawn to dawn. Not only was the incentive there in the way of cash, but the story angle got me excited.
And here she was again.. The voice was unmistakable. It was clear, bell-like and hard.
I sank back on my pillow, holding the 'phone tight.
“You got it right, sister,” I said.
“Did you go?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“He's dead. I got word with him. He said Lu Spencer had pulled it.”
I heard her catch her breath. “He said that?” she asked eagerly.
“Yeah... now listen, what's the big idea? What's all this to you?”
“I'm goin' to send you five thousand dollars so that you can go on with this. When you've found out the truth and have written it all up you'll get the other five.”
I was scared that she was going to cut off. I said quickly, “I ain't interested... I've looked into this an' there's too much to it.”
There was a long silence on the line.
J said anxiously, “You there?”
She said, “Yes... I thought you'd be glad to do it. I see I've made a mistake.”
“Suppose we get together an' talk this over?” I said. “This is a big set-up, baby. All the big shots are in on this... it wants talkin' over.”
She said, “I think you'll do it all right,” and before I could shout she had hung up.