it wasn’t quite as simple. True, Harry Grenville often turned a blind eye to what went on, provided it stopped short of actual murder. But you usually had to go about things in a more discreet way, although the rules were still unchanged for the other side.
I remembered the bullets that had smashed through the windscreen of the car close to my head only a brief time before, and wondered what fresh plan was being built up against me, and by whom. The Underworld was a vast thing with a lot of men pulling the strings.
Maybe even now, the killer was squatting in a black web of vice and murder, waiting to strike again, planning ahead, preparing to commit a further murder to wipe out any lead I might find. At the moment, I was completely lost, stumbling around in the dark.
Dawn went out to fix some food and I sat in silence, trying to think things out. Trouble had a habit of following me around, and I didn’t want any of it to brush off onto her if I could possibly help it. By now, the word seemed to have got around that Johnny Merak was nosing into everyone else’s business, private and otherwise, and I doubted whether many people would be really sorry if I departed the world quite suddenly with a slug in my brain. Nobody that is, except for Dawn Grahame, and possibly Harry Grenville. Maybe it was because of this that I was intent of keeping myself alive and seeing things through to the bitter end.
The phone shrilled, breaking in on my thoughts. I picked it up after a moment’s pause. It could have been the guy who had tried to kill me, ringing up to find out if I was still alive.
‘Johnny Merak?’ The voice was harsh and metallic.
‘That’s right,’ I said.
A pause, and then: ‘I think you and I ought to have a little talk, Merak. It’s important.’
‘I don’t usually make a point of talking to anybody I don’t know and who doesn’t give his name.’
‘It concerns the murder of Caroline Lomer,’ went on the voice in my ear.
‘Go on.’
‘I understand that you are on the case. I also happen to know that somebody tried to fix it for you permanently tonight.’
‘You seem to know quite a lot.’
‘I make it my business to know a lot of things, Mister Merak.’ There was a sardonic chuckle in the voice as if the other was secretly amused. ‘Sometimes, I find it pays dividends.’
‘It could also be dangerous.’
‘Perhaps. But like you, I’m an expert in taking chances.’ For a moment, there was only the humming of the wires, then the other went on. ‘I still think you ought to see me, Mister Merak. Shall we say tomorrow morning, nine o’clock, at the Golden Horseshoe?’
‘And I suppose I’d walk into a couple of your hired gunmen and get a bellyful of slugs for my trouble,’ I said sarcastically.
‘I guess that’s a chance you’ll have to take.’ The phone clicked, the line went dead.
I replaced the receiver in its cradle and sat back in my chair. Dawn came into the room, looked at me curiously.
‘I thought I heard the phone,’ she said quietly.
‘You did,’ I nodded. ‘Some guy who wouldn’t give his name. Wanted to meet me at nine tomorrow. Said he had information for me about tonight’s murder.’
‘Are you going?’
‘I’m not sure. It sounds too much like a trap to me. After they failed tonight, it’s just the sort of thing they might try. On the other hand, it may be genuine, and he didn’t want to give his name for fear of retaliation.’
‘It sounds like a trap.’
‘I know. That’s what I’m afraid of. At the moment, I’m trying to figure some way of getting around it if it is. I suppose I could call Grenville and tell him what’s happened. He might be able to figure a way of watching the place in case of trouble, and I could take this—’ I picked up the Luger, checked its buttered smoothness, then replaced it in my pocket ‘—only I’m afraid that if I did that, this guy, whoever he is, might smell a rat and he wouldn’t turn up. That could destroy the only lead I’ve got.’
The multitude of thoughts had a fine chance to run around my brain as I ate the meal Dawn had prepared; but deep down inside, I knew that the outcome was certain. That I would go down there alone and see this man, take the chance on it being a trap. Somehow, I thought fiercely, this game was becoming a little more complex and dangerous than I had figured at the beginning.
CHAPTER TWO
TONY VITELLI
There was something uncertain about the city the following morning. I sensed it as I eased the car away from the kerb and headed out in the main stream of traffic. The mist still hung around in patches, shreds of grey stuff which occasionally hid the fronts of the stores and the people going about their everyday activities. I worked my way downtown, keeping my eyes peeled for anything which might give me a lead on what I was heading into. There wasn’t much. I needed another drink, but it was still too early for any but the more flashy bars to be open in this district, although the Golden Horseshoe would have stayed open until around four in the morning, and would be open again once I reached it.
I stopped the car at the end of the dingy street, sat behind the wheel smoking. It still wanted ten minutes to nine o’clock, but on a blind date like this, I needed time in which to watch the joint, I needed to know the entrances and exits, whether the place was being watched by anyone apart from myself; and if so, by whom. More than once in the past, this caution had paid handsome dividends. Some guys had died quickly, if not cleanly, because they’d overlooked the most elementary details and had walked in to death with their eyes shut.
I finished the cigarette and decided that there was nobody watching the front entrance to the Golden Horseshoe. That didn’t mean it was clear, but it certainly began to look as if my unknown informant was on the level.
Five minutes’ wait before I stubbed out my cigarette, checked the Luger in my pocket, then got out of the car. Far enough from the entrance to make things difficult for anybody trying to shadow me in, but close enough if I had to make a run for it. Five minutes more cut out of half an hour. I laughed at myself, nervous and impatient, like a kid fresh out of high school waiting for his first date.
I crossed the street quickly, melted into the shadows on the other side, then cut down a narrow alley which led to the back of the line of buildings. Maybe I’d tagged this guy wrong. Maybe he was a right guy trying to help me along. But there weren’t many who’d do that for Johnny Merak, who had deliberately spat in the faces of the big men of the Underworld and turned his back on them. Anybody helping me was virtually signing his own death warrant if the big boys found out. That was one of the reasons it was so difficult to get information now, why I had to follow every possible lead, taking the risk of it being a trap.
The rear of the buildings, like the front, was no fancy place. I made it through a dark, garbage-strewn alley which angled between a couple of the buildings, spotted the one I wanted, and eased my way quietly along it. There was a high wall at the end of it and I pulled myself over it. My feet didn’t make a sound when they hit the concrete on the other side and I was away into the shadows before any bright boys inside, who may have been on the lookout for me, thought of looking in my direction. After that, it was comparatively easy.
I
