The Golden Gizmo (7 page)

He waited, beaming, apparently for Toddy to make some polite disclaimer. Toddy didn't. For the moment, at least, he was incapable of saying or doing anything.

"As you can see," Chinless continued, "I mean you no harm. Quite the contrary, in fact. Despite the perhaps regrettable preliminaries of our meeting, I mean to benefit you-and, of course, to benefit myself. I would like to have you believe that, Mr. Kent; that I hold nothing but the friendliest feelings toward you."

He paused again, his beady black eyes fixed on Toddy's.

"Well…" said Toddy; and his head moved in a vague half-nod.

"Good!" said the man promptly. "Now we will go into the matter in detail, take up details in their proper order. First of all, my name is Alvarado; I am known by that name. You, of course, are Todd or Toddy Kent… also known as T. Jameson Kent, Toddmore Kent, Kent Todd and various other aliases. As you can see, I took the liberty of looking into your record after your visit here this afternoon. It interested me very much. It is largely why I have prevailed upon you to make this second visit."

"I-" Toddy swallowed. "I see."

"As you have probably observed," Alvarado went on, leaning forward earnestly, "extra-legal careers seldom attract the type of men which their successful pursuit demands. A willingness to flout often-foolish laws, yes-that characteristic is so common as to be unnoteworthy. But much more than that is required. Such men as yourself are indeed rare. I do not flatter you, Mr. Kent, when I say that some episodes in your past reflect positive genius."

Toddy nodded again, his tense nerves relaxing a little.

"You find the dog disturbing, Mr. Kent? You need not. He is a working dog-quite harmless, actually, unless ordered to be otherwise."

"I was just wondering," said Toddy, "how you found out so much about me so fast."

"Nothing could have been simpler. A description of you, and a generous retainer, naturally, to one of the better private detectives. A brief check at the city license bureau. Then a few cautious long-distance calls here and there. By the way, Mr. Kent"-Alvarado chuckled-"I should not show myself around Chicago, if I were you."

"I don't intend to," said Toddy. "Now, about this proposition of yours-you'd better not tell me about it. I don't think I can take it."

"But… I do not understand."

"The police are looking for me. Or they will be before long. My wife was murdered tonight-strangled in our room at the hotel."

"Murdered?" Alvarado frowned. "Strangled in your hotel room? What time was this, Mr. Kent?"

"Early this evening. Between six-thirty and seven, approximately." Toddy forced a smile. "To tell the truth, I thought you did it."

"I? Why did you think that?"

"Whoever killed her took the watch. Since it was your watch and you were the only one who knew I had it, I naturally thought you'd done it."

Alvarado stared at him in dead silence, the frown on his fish-pale face deepening. Then, unaccountably, the beady eyes twinkled and he laughed with genuine amusement.

"The watch was taken, eh? That is very funny. Ha, ha. You are very amusing, Mr. Kent. Like me you have a sense of humor. I am glad to know it!"

"But-now, wait a minute!" Toddy protested. "I-"

"I understand. Ha, ha. I understand very well. Perhaps for the moment, however, we had better continue with our business."

"But you-"

"As I was about to explain," Alvarado said firmly, "my original motive in having you investigated was precautionary. I wished to discover whether you were of the type to take the watch-with all it would reveal to the knowing- to the police. Happily, I found you were not. You have every reason to avoid contact with the police. That is right, is it not?"

"Yes, but-" Toddy gave up. He couldn't see why Alvarado thought the murder so funny. But since he did, that was that. For the moment, he wasn't in a position to question the chinless man. Right now, he was on the receiving end of the questions.

"Yes," he said, "that's right. I can't go to the police."

"As I so ascertained," Alvarado nodded. "And having done so, I invited you here. For some time, Mr. Kent, a change in the personnel of this organization-of one of the personnel-has been strongly indicated. In fact, I have recommended such a change. But since no substitute for the incumbent was available, the recommendation did not carry much weight. In you, I think, I have found that long-needed replacement."

"You say you recommended the change?" Toddy asked. "Yes. My superiors are not in this country, and it is necessary to consult them on such matters. Within reasonable bounds, however, they will act on my recommendations."

"I don't know," said Toddy, casually. "I can't see any big money in running gold across the border. Not for the individual runner."

"That was not what I had in mind."

"Well. You know I'm not a goldsmith."

"I know."

"I see," said Toddy. "Who's your present supplier?"

"Really, Mr. Kent." Alvarado laughed. "But I do not condemn your curiosity. It would be a splendid thing to know, would it not?"

"That's the spot you're planning for me?"

Alvarado shrugged. "For large rewards, Mr. Kent, one must expect to take certain chances. Your history indicates a willingness to do so."

"Up to a point," Toddy qualified. "There's one thing I don't understand. How can you get enough scrap gold to keep this racket running?"

"Another secret. You will understand when it is necessary for you to."

"I-" Toddy spread his hands helplessly. "I just don't see much point in discussing it, Mr. Alvarado. It sounds like a good proposition- -one I'd jump at, ordinarily-but I can't take it now."

"No?"

"No! My wife was murdered tonight. I'm the logical suspect. I can't show myself anywhere. If I could, I'd be hunting down the murderer."

Alvarado started to smile again. "Ah, yes. Your wife… the watch. Perhaps you had better give me the watch now, Mr. Kent."

"Dammit!" Toddy snapped. "I just got through telling you that-"

"You want to keep it, of course," Alvarado nodded, understandingly. "You would be unintelligent if you did not try to. I do not blame you in the least, but it is impossible."

"But I haven't-"

"It is a sort of pattern, a template, you see. Without it, our work here would be seriously delayed. So,"- Alvarado's eyes glinted fire- "the watch, Mr. Kent."

Toddy got to his feet, carefully holding his arms out from his sides. The dog rose also, turning an inquiring eye toward the chinless man.

"Go ahead and search me," said Toddy hoarsely. "I can't give you something I haven't got."

"Since you are willing to be searched, you obviously do not have it with you. You will please tell me immediately where it is."

"I told you! I don't know-it was stolen!" He moved back a step as Alvarado rose. "Good God, do you think I'd make up a yarn like that? I thought you'd killed her. That's why I tried to get away from the girl. I-"

"What you thought, Mr. Kent, was that I was a fool. I am afraid you still think so… Did you dispose of it to that loan shark you visited-that petty racketeer? Or to that watch shop where you sell your gold? Carefully, now! I can discover the truth of your answer quickly enough."

"I've told you the truth," said Toddy simply. "I can't tell you anything more."

Alvarado's hand dipped into the inside pocket of his coat and emerged with a snub-nosed automatic. He held it pointing squarely at Toddy's stomach.

"This is embarrassing," he sighed, "as well as vastly annoying. Before telling me that your wife had been murdered, you should have made sure that I could not prove the contrary."

"Prove?"

"Now you will accompany me to the hotel and extricate the watch from wherever you have hidden it."

"The hell I will!" Toddy shook his head.

"Really, Mr. Kent," Alvarado grimaced. "You must know you are being preposterous."

"I know I'm not going to walk into a roomful of cops," snapped Toddy. "Not if I had a dozen popguns like that pointing at me."

The talking dog whined softly and looked up at them, then padded away unnoticed in the tension of the moment. Ever so little, the chinless man's eyes wavered. He moved back a step or two until he was no longer standing on the rug. He stamped his foot on the floor.

A door opened and clicked shut. There was a gasp and then the girl swept into the room.

"Alvarado! You promised me that-"

"Silence!" The word cracked like a whip. "I have not broken that promise yet. I would much prefer not to. Tell me… Where did you pick up Mr. Kent's trail tonight?"

"Why, I-I-" The girl looked at Toddy. "Didn't he tell you?"

"Answer me! Quickly, truthfully, and in complete detail!"

"I picked him up-him and the other man I told you of-about three blocks from the hotel. They were going south on Spring Street. As I told you, I had to circle a number of blocks, driving up and down before-"

Alvarado's hand jerked sidewise. The gun barrel whipped across the girl's breasts and back again.

"You were listening at the door, eh? You would remove Mr. Kent from the difficult position in which his stupidity has placed him? I will give you one more chance. Why was it, when you were given Mr. Kent's address, you were forced to pick him up several blocks away?"

"Because… he got away from me."

"Yes?"

"I… it was as I told you. He was leaving the hotel when I first saw him; that was at about six o'clock. I followed him from there to the watch shop, then back again. In my haste to park, I passed through a red light. A police officer saw me. He insisted on giving me a lecture, then on trying to arrange a later meeting…"

A rosy flush spread under the cream-colored skin, and her eyes lowered for a moment. "I do not know exactly how long it was before I got away. Perhaps twenty minutes. Perhaps a total time of thirty minutes elapsed before I parked the car and got up to Mr. Kent's room…"

"Go on. You knocked on the door. You tried it and found it unlocked. See? I save you the repetition of tiresome details."

"I went in. Mr. Kent was not there…"

"But the room was in great disarray, eh? You were shocked by its condition."

The girl shook her head.

"No," she said dully. "There was no disarray. The room was in quite good order."

"Now wait a minute!" Toddy exclaimed. "I left that room just-"

"Quiet, Mr. Kent. You will have ample opportunity to talk in a moment. I shall even assist you." Alvarado grinned at him fiercely, then nodded to the girl. "You say the room was in reasonably good order, Dolores? Surely, you are overlooking one very important item. Only a few minutes before-or so he tells me-the body of Mr. Kent's wife was in that room. Brutally murdered. Strangled with her own stockings. Killed and robbed of the watch which Mr. Kent had hidden in a dresser drawer… You recollect it now, eh? You remember this shocking sight now that I have refreshed your memory? The body of Mr. Kent's wife was in the room, yes? Answer me!"

Poised at the front door, the Doberman turned his great head and stared at them thoughtfully. Then he bellied down at the threshold, moved his muzzle back and forth across the lintel. A quiet, waiting purr ebbed up from deep in his throat.

"Well? We are waiting, Dolores."

The girl hesitated a moment longer, her lip caught between her small white teeth.

Then she looked up. She spoke staring straight into Toddy's eyes.

"No," she said. "There was no body."

"George!" he howled into the wall telephone. "How many times do I gotta tell you I… Oh," he said, after a minute. "Well, okay, George. Send him up."

Unlatching the door, he slid his feet into house slippers and shuffled out to the kitchenette. He poured himself a glass of milk from the refrigerator and carried it back into the other room.

The door opened, and City Councilman Julius Klobb came in.

"Look," he said. "This Elaine Ives-Kent. You've got to have her in court in the morning."

"I do, huh?" Airedale took a sip of milk. "Who says so?"

"Yes-you-do! And I say so. And you know why I say it."

"She'll have to do her time?"

"Naturally. Part of it, anyway; until the heat goes off."

"Heat," said Airedale, sourly. "Nine grand he takes off of me last year and still we got heat. Maybe I ought to fix through a beat cop. Or one of them guys that cleans out the washroom. Maybe they could earn their money."

Councilman Klobb spread his hands. "That's not being reasonable, Airedale," he said reproachfully. "The lid's been off now for well over eighteen months. Almost two years now without the slightest kind of rumble. I can't help it if we have an opposition party and they squeeze out from under once in a while. Frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way and I know you wouldn't. It's what makes America great- competition-unceasing struggle-"

Airedale groaned. "Unceasing horse shit. Put it away, will you? Save it for the Fourth of July."

"You'll have her there?"

"If it has to be her. We couldn't throw 'em another chump?"

"Of course not. Twenty-three arrests in a year and she's never laid out a day. She's the one they'll tie into. You know what'll happen when they do. Good God, man, do I have to draw you a picture?"

He didn't have to, of course. Airedale had known what to expect from the moment Elaine's name had been mentioned.

In many cities, bail is set to approximate the fine for a misdemeanor, and its forfeiture automatically closes the case. Usually, however, often in those places where the practice is most thoroughly entrenched, there are periods when it becomes inoperative. Bail then gives the lawbreaker his freedom only until court is held. And if he fails to appear he is considered a fugitive.

This, as Airedale well knew, must not be allowed to happen in Elaine's case. Obviously, the political opposition intended to use her as a broom in a thoroughly unpleasant house-cleaning. This woman, they'd say-they'd shout- has forfeited almost two thousand dollars in bonds. Where is that money? What is there to show for it? What besides a parcel of land which has already been obligated for twenty times its appraised value?

Airedale shook his head ruefully. To stave off an investigation, Elaine would have to face court on charges which, under adverse circumstances, could total up to months in jail and/or several thousand dollars in fines. She'd be sore as hell-which didn't trouble Airedale in the least. Toddy would be sore-and that did trouble him. Toddy had laid his money on the line. Now he wouldn't get anything for it. Airedale would return the dough he had paid, of course, but that wouldn't help much. Once a rap was squared, it was supposed to stay squared.

"How about this?" he said. "Can't we get our paper back and put up the cash in its place?"

"Would I be here if we could?" Klobb demanded. "Can't you see they planned this so we wouldn't have time to squeeze out?"

Airedale nodded. For Elaine to face court was bad, but the alternative was indescribably worse: to face it himself.

"Okay. I don't like it, but okay. She'll be there."

"Good." Councilman Klobb stood up. "Better get her on the phone right now, hadn't you?"

"Get her on the phone," mocked Airedale. "Yessir, that's all I need to do; just tell her to go down and turn herself in."

"But…" Klobb frowned. "Oh, I see."

"Do you see that door?" said Airedale.

Klobb saw it. Rather hastily, he put it to use. Airedale began to dress.

Some fifteen minutes later he stepped out of a cab at Toddy's hotel and went inside. He was acquainted with the room clerk. He was acquainted with practically everyone in a certain stratum of the city's society. The clerk winked amiably, and extended a hand across the counter.

"How's it goin', boy? Who you looking for?"

"Might be you, you pretty thing," said Airedale. "But I'll settle for Toddy Kent."

"Kent? I'm not sure that he's regis-Oh," said the clerk, glancing at the bill in his hand. "Yeah, we got him. Want me to give him a buzz?"

"Not now. Is his key in his box?"

"That don't mean nothing. People here carry their keys mostly. He should be in, though, him and the missus both. I ain't seen 'em go out."

Airedale deliberated. He had a deputy sheriff's commission but he was reluctant to use it. It was always much better, particularly when you were dealing with a friend, to have someone else do the strong-arm work.

"Where's old lardass, the demon house dick?"

"Up with some broad, probably. No, there he is,"-the clerk pointed-"in stuffing his gut."

Airedale glanced toward the coffee shop. "Okay, I'll drag him out. About three minutes after you see us catch the elevator, you ring hell out of Kent's phone."

Airedale got hold of Kennedy, the house detective, and together they went upstairs. They stopped at Toddy's door. Almost immediately the phone began to ring. It rang steadily for what must have been a full two minutes. There was no other sound, either then or after it had stopped.

Airedale raised his fist and pounded. He stood aside, and nodded to Kennedy. The house dick gripped the doorknob with one hand; with the other he poised a peculiarly notched key before the keyhole. He slowly turned the knob and pushed gently. He dropped the key back into his pocket, drew out a shot-weighted blackjack, and abruptly flung the door open.

"Okay," he growled, "come out of it!" Then, after a moment's wait, he went in and Airedale followed him.

They looked in the bathroom, the closet and under the bed. Panting from the unaccustomed activity and his recent meal, Kennedy dropped into a chair and fanned his face with his hat.

"Well," he said, "they ain't here."

"No kidding," said Airedale.

Airedale went to the window and looked out. He looked down at the once-white enameled sill-at the streaked outline of a heel print.

Kennedy said, "She gave ol' Toddy a little more than he would take tonight. Boy, you could hear her yelling a block away!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm tellin' you, Airedale. It sounded like he was killin' her. If I'd had my way he'd of gone ahead and done it."

"So what did you do?"

"Gave him a ring. She'd already shut up by then, though, and there wasn't another peep after that."

Airedale stared in unwinking silence, and the house detective shifted uncomfortably. "Guess they must of gone out," he remarked, averting his eyes from the bondsman's liquid brown gaze. "Must of."

Absently scratching his nose, Airedale started for the window again, and his protruding elbow struck against the stack of the incinerator. He leaped back with a profane yell. Kennedy roared and pounded his knee.

"Oh, J-Jesus," he laughed. "You should of seen yourself, Airedale!"

"What the hell is this?" Airedale demanded. "A hotel or a crematory? What you got a goddam furnace goin' for in weather like this?"

Panting, shaking with laughter, the house detective explained the nature of the stack. Airedale made a closer examination of it. He kicked it. He removed a wisp of hair from the clamp. He measured the stack with his eye, and knew unwillingly that it was quite large enough… to hold a woman's body… Strolling back toward his hotel, he considered the smog through doggish eyes, reflecting, unsentimentally, that Elaine was doubtless part of it by now. That would be like her, to remain a nuisance even in death. Certainly it had been like her to get herself killed at such a completely inopportune time. When she failed to show in the morning, the cops would come after her. They'd do a little investigating, a little talking here and there, and the dragnet would go out for Toddy. There was an all-night drugstore on the next cornet Airedale went in, entered a telephone booth and closed the door firmly behind him. He consulted a small black notebook and creased a number therein with his thumbnail. Fumbling for a coin, he checked over the contemplated project for possible pitfalls.

Fingerprints? No, they'd gotten her prints on her first arrest, and they hadn't bothered with them since. Pictures? No, they already had her mug, too, the newspapers and the police. And as long as she showed up in court-a woman of about the same age and size and coloring- Yeah, it could be done all right. Hundreds of women were in the Los Angeles courts every week. Elaine would draw the interest of papers and police only if she
didn't
show up.

Airedale dropped a slug into the coin box and dialed a number:

"Billie?"-he stared out through the door glass- "Airedale. How's it goin'?.. – Yeah? Well, it's slow all over, they tell me. – .. How'd you like a cinch for a while?… Oh, a buck-no, I'll make it a buck and a half… – Sure, don't you understand English? A hundred and a half a week… Well, I'll have to talk it over with you personally. I don't like to kick it around on the phone… Expenses? Sure, you get 'em, Billie girl. Board and room… absolutely free."