Ackerman smiled at Carmody. “There’s still time to settle our problem smartly.”
“The time ran out,” Carmody said, moving toward the door but keeping his eyes on everyone in the room. “Remember what I told you, Ackerman. The guy you send after my brother has got to come through me first. He won’t like that, I promise.”
Ackerman shrugged slightly, and Carmody knew the break was clean and final. When he stepped from this room he wouldn’t have a friend in the city. Okay, I don’t need friends, he thought. I’m enough by myself, I’m Mike Carmody.
With a cold smile on his lips he turned and walked out the door.
Ackerman stood quietly for several seconds, frowning thoughtfully at the wall. Then, without looking around, he said, “Dan, did you get everything set with Dominic Costello?”
“He sent us a guy,” Beaumonte said, his voice small and hoarse. “He’s already on young Carmody’s tail.”
“Tell him to go to work,” Ackerman said. “And you’d better figure out something to keep Carmody out of the way. Nobody will have a chance to get at his brother while he’s around.” His voice was flat and disgusted.
“Okay.” Beaumonte still sat on the floor, watching Nancy. She smiled unsteadily at him as a slow fear began to work through her drunkenness. “I didn’t mean it,” she said in a sad, little girl’s voice. “Honest, Dan.”
Ackerman looked around then, his eyes dark and furious. “Maybe you can handle my business better than you handle your women,” he said to Beaumonte. “You’d better, that’s all I can tell you.”
Johnny Stark climbed slowly to his feet, massaging his neck with both hands. “He caught me in the windpipe, Mr. Ackerman,” he said in a squeaking voice. “I’d of got him if he hadn’t caught my windpipe.”
“You couldn’t take him with an armored tank,” Ackerman said, glaring at him. “What do I pay you for? To listen to birds singing?” Turning abruptly he walked to the door. Over his shoulder he said, “Don’t bother coming along, Stark. I’m safer alone.” He walked out and slammed the door shut behind him with a crash.
“Give me a hand, Johnny,” Beaumonte said.
“Sure, sure,” Johnny said quickly, glad to be useful to someone. He got behind Beaumonte, put both hands under his armpits and hauled him to his feet. Beaumonte swayed and put his hand for support against the mantel. “He could have killed me,” he muttered. “He could have broke something inside me.”
“Yeah, he can hit,” Johnny said, nodding earnestly.
Nancy put a hand timidly on Beaumonte’s forearm. “Look at me, Dan.” She was pale and trembling, sobered by her fear. “It was just a joke. You do things like that to me sometimes, don’t you? I was drinking too much, like you said. But I’m going on the wagon, I promise, Dan.”
Beaumonte turned away from her, pulling his hand free from her arm. “You’re going back where I found you,” he said slowly.
“Dan, please!” She tried to turn him around but he shook her off with a twist of his big round shoulders. “Please, Dan! It was just a crazy joke,” she said, beginning to weep.
“Johnny, you know where Fanzo’s place is?” Beaumonte said to Stark.
“Yeah, sure, Mr. Beaumonte.”
Beaumonte drew a deep breath. “Take Nancy there, take her if you have to break her legs and carry her,” he said, in a slow empty voice. “You got that? I’ll phone him so he’ll have the welcome mat out.”
“Dan, what are you going to do to me?” Nancy cried, backing away from the two men. She brought her hands to her mouth and the bracelets on her wrists jangled noisily in the silent room.
Beaumonte looked at her then for the first time since he’d got to his feet. “Why did you do a thing like that with Ackerman watching,” he said thickly.
“I told you it was just a crazy gag.”
“I’m going to pay you off good,” he said. “You got no more loyalty in you than a stick of wood.”
“Dan!” she cried softly, as Johnny Stark put a massive hand on her wrist. Her eyes were wild and unbelieving. “You aren’t going to do this to me. It’s a joke, I know. Tell me it’s a joke, Dan.”
“Get her out,” Beaumonte cried. “Get her out of here.”
When they were gone, Beaumonte drew a deep ragged breath and began to walk about in small aimless circles. Finally, he stopped and went quickly to the bar. He made himself a brandy and soda, slopping the ingredients into the glass, and then sat down in a deep chair and stared at the long silent room. For several minutes he remained motionless, his body slumping forward slightly, and then he moaned deep in his throat and began to pound his fist slowly against his forehead. But the sound of her weeping stayed loud in his mind.
6
Carmody drove directly to his hotel, recklessly ignoring lights and traffic. It wasn’t quite six yet, but he knew that Ackerman would plan and act swiftly. The order might already be out, and that meant he had to find Eddie fast. But a dozen phone calls to his home, his district and his favorite bars, failed to turn up a lead.
Carmody rang Karen’s apartment and drummed his fingers on the table as the phone buzzed in his ear. Then the connection was made, and she said, “Hello?”
“Karen, this is Mike. Have you seen Eddie today?”
“No... What’s the matter?”
“If you see him, tell him to call me at my hotel. Will you do that? I couldn’t stall the big boys any longer. Tell him that, too.”
“Does that mean trouble?”
“Not for you, bright eyes. But it does for Eddie. If he calls you—”
The phone clicked dead. For a moment Carmody sat perfectly still and then he swept the receiver off the table. She was staying in the clear. There was trouble coming and Danny Nimo’s girl would take a warm bath, do her nails and keep nicely out of it. Well, what had he expected?
But underneath his anger there was a growing fear. He shouldn’t have tipped his hand to Ackerman; that spotted them a big advantage. Where in hell were his brains?
He needed help in finding his brother but he didn’t know where to turn. Anyone who knew this was Ackerman’s business would want no part of it. The men on his shift were his only bet, but it wouldn’t be easy to find them; his shift had started its three-day relief that morning and they might be out of town or visiting relatives. Some damn thing. Carmody tried Dirksen first, because he was the dumbest, but got no answer. Abrams’ daughter talked to him and said that her daddy had gone to the shore to do some fishing. Carmody thanked her and hung up. That left Myers. He put through the call.
Myers sounded as if he had been sleeping. “Hi, Mike. What’s up?” he said.
“I need some help. My brother’s in a little trouble and I’ve got to locate him. But I need a hand. How about it?”
“In a little trouble, eh?” Myers said cautiously.
“That’s right. Look, he lives on Sycamore in the Northeast. Number two-eighty. Would you stake yourself out there and grab him if he shows up? Tell him to call me right away at my hotel?”
Myers hesitated. “I was just going to take the girls to a movie. It’d be a shame to disappoint them.”
“Sure, I know,” Carmody said, rubbing his forehead. “But how about this? Make it tomorrow night and I’ll get all three of you tickets to the new musical. And dinner at the Park Club first. My treat.”
“A night on the town, eh? Sounds pretty fancy,” Myers said dryly.
“Well?”
“By the way, I got an envelope from Degget. Thanks.”
“Degget?”
“Yeah, the little character we had in that Wagner Hotel murder. He sent me fifty bucks. And a note. Did you read the note?”
“No,” Carmody said impatiently.