Vengeance Is Mine

“When I dug up his business friends I got nowhere. His business was fine, he was making a lot of money, and he had no worries at all.”

I clamped my teeth together. “Like hell you got nowhere,” I said softly. My mind drifted back over that little conversation with Pat. A little talk about how a guy named Emil Perry said Wheeler had been depressed because business was rotten. “You’re

sure about his business?”

“Yes. I checked his credit rating.”

“Nice going. Continue.”

“Well . . . the only lead I saw was this place called the Bowery Inn. I did some fast quizzing when I got home and found out what it was all about. The man who runs the place you seemed to know. I put on an act and he fell for it. Hard. He didn’t seem to like you much, Mike.”

“I can’t blame him. I shot him once.”

“After you left he couldn’t talk for five minutes. He excused himself and went into the back room. When he returned he seemed satisfied about something. There was blood on his hands.”

That would be Dinky, all right. He liked to use his hands when he had a couple of rods backing him up. “That all?”

“Practically. He wants to see me again.”

I felt the cords in my neck pull tight. “The bastard! I’ll beat the pants off him for that!”

Velda shook her head and laughed. “Don’t you get to be the jealous type too, Mike. You don’t wear it so well. Is it important that I see him again?”

I agreed reluctantly. “It’s important.”

“Is it still murder?”

“More than ever, sugar. I bet it’s a big murder, too. A great big beautiful murder with all the trimmings.”

“Then what do you suggest I do next?”

I gave it a thought first, then looked at her a moment. “Play this Clyde. Keep your eyes open and see what happens. If I were you I’d hide that P.I. ticket and leave the gun home. We don’t want him putting two and two together and getting a bee in his bonnet.

“If you follow me on this you’ll see the connection. First we have Wheeler. We have the fact that he might have taken a model out that night and he might have gone to the Inn where he might have run into something that meant murder. If Clyde didn’t enter into this I’d skip the whole premise, but he makes it too interesting to pass up.

“There’s only one hitch. Juno found the girl he left with the night of the party. She didn’t go out with him!”

“But, Mike, then . . .”

“Then I’m supposing he might have gone with somebody else some other time. Hell of a lot of mights in this. Too many. At least it’s something to work on, and if you stick around this Clyde character long enough something will turn up one way or another.”

Velda rose, her legs spread apart, throwing out her arms in a stretch that made her jacket and skirt fill up almost to bursting. I had to bend my head down into a match to get my eyes off her. Clyde was going to get a hell of a deal for his money. I slapped my hat on and opened the door for her.

When we reached the street I put her in a taxi and watched until she was around the corner. It was just nine-thirty, so I headed for the nearest phone booth, dropped a nickel in the slot and dialed police headquarters. Pat had checked in, but he couldn’t be located at present. I told the switchboard operator to have him meet me in a spaghetti joint around the corner from headquarters in a half-hour and the guy said he’d pass the message on. I found my heap and climbed in. It was going to be a busy day.

Pat was waiting for me over a half-finished cup of coffee. When he saw me come in he signaled for another coffee and some pastry. I threw my leg over the chair and sat down. “Morning, officer. How’s every little thing in the department?”

“Going smoothly, Mike.”

“Oh, too bad.”

He set his coffee cup down again. His face was absolutely blank. “Don’t start anything, Mike.”

I acted indignant. “Who, me? What could I start that’s not already started?”

The waiter brought my coffee and some Danish and I dunked and ate two of them before either of us spoke again. Curiosity got the best of Pat. He said, “Let’s hear it, Mike.”

“Are you going to be stupid about it, Pat?”

His face was still frozen. “Let’s hear it, Mike.”

I didn’t make any bones about trying to keep it out of my eyes or the set of my jaw. My voice came up from my chest with a nasty rumble and I could feel my lip working into a snarl that pulled the corners of my mouth down.

“You’re a smart cop, Pat. Everybody knows it but most of all I know it and you know it yourself. You know something else besides. I’m just as smart. I said Wheeler was murdered and you patted me on the head and told me to behave.

“I’m saying it again, Pat. Wheeler was murdered. You can get in this thing or I can do it alone. I told you I wanted that ticket back and I’m going to get it. If I do a lot of reputations are going to fall by the wayside including yours and I don’t want that to happen.

“You know me and you know I don’t kid around. I’m beginning to get ideas, Pat. They think good. I’ve seen some things that look good. Things that put more taste in the flavor of murder. I’m going to have me another killer before long and a certain D.A. is going to get his nose blown for him.”

I don’t know what I expected Pat to do. Maybe I expected him to blow his top or start writing me off as a has-been in the brain department. I certainly didn’t expect to see his face go cold and hear him say, “I gave you the benefit of the doubt a long time ago, Mike. I think Wheeler was murdered too.”

He grinned a little at my expression and went on. “There’s a catch. Word reached the D.A. and he looked into it and passed his professional opinion in conjunction with the Medical Examiner. Wheeler was, beyond doubt, a suicide. I have been told to concentrate my efforts on more recent developments in the wide field of crime.”

“Our boy doesn’t like you either now, eh?”

“Ha.”

“So?”

“What do you know, Mike?”

“Just a little, pal. I’ll know more before long and I’ll drop it in your lap when there’s enough of it to get your teeth in. I don’t suppose your prestige suffered from the D.A.’s tirade.”

“It went up if anything.”

“Good. Tonight I’ll buzz you with all the details. Meanwhile you can look up the whereabouts of one former torpedo called Rainey.”

“I know him.”

“Yeah?”

“We had him on an assault and battery charge a while back. The complainant failed to complain and he was dismissed. He called himself a fight promoter.”

“Street brawls,” I said sourly.

“Probably. He was loaded with jack but he had a room in the Bowery.”

“Where, Pat?” My eyes lit up and Pat went grim.

“The Bowery. Why?”

“Interesting word. I’ve been hearing a lot about it these days. See if you can get a line on him, will you?”

Pat tapped a cigarette on the table. “This is all on the table, isn’t it?”

“Every bit of it, chum. I won’t hold back. I’m curious about one thing, though. What changed your mind from suicide to murder?”

Pat grinned through his teeth. “You. I didn’t think you’d chase shadows. I said I wouldn’t get excited this time but I couldn’t help myself. By the time I reached the office I was shaking like a punk on his first holdup and I went down to take a look at the body. I called in a couple of experts and though there were few marks on the body it was the general opinion that our lad Wheeler had been through some sort of a scuffle prior to taking a bullet in the head.”