Murder for Two (24 page)

“You won't try anything?” He was excited now, feverish in his haste and anxiety. “You promised.”

“Sure,” Casey said.

“You must do exactly as they say.”

“Sure.”

Perry tugged at his arm as he loped alongside. “You're not just saying that? I don't want you to do a thing that might spoil it. I don't care about the envelope. It's my fault Karen—”

His voice fumbled and broke on the word and Casey's bitterness was like a vise around his heart. Perry's fault? Like hell. He was the one who really got her mixed up with those two hoods in the first place. If it hadn't been for MacGrath, if he hadn't insisted on taking her out to Byrkman's place that first night so she could sneak back and take that picture, these guys might not have known about her.

He was pretty miserable about the envelope. He knew what it meant to Perry, realized that only by the luckiest of breaks was the envelope mailed by Morris Loeb at all. And now Perry was going to lose it. There wasn't any other way. Yet Casey meant just what he said when he promised Perry. No tricks. He could not think of any in the first place, and even if he could, he could not jeopardize the girl. If she was all right, if he could be sure she was released, that would be enough. He'd have to make Logan believe that this was the only possible way.

He saw the man behind the small sedan when they were about a hundred yards away and as they approached he memorized the number on the license plate. He did not expect that it would do much good, but it was something to do, something he could tell Logan.

They were a hundred feet from the car when the man moved away from the far side and stepped out on the sidewalk. It was the blond Nossek. He was watching both sides of the street. He had a hand in the pocket of his light gray topcoat and the front of the hand ended in the muzzle of a gun outlined plainly underneath the fabric.

“Hi, Blondie,” Casey said, slowing down.

Nossek inspected him from hooded lids. He looked at Perry. He didn't smile and his mouth was ugly.

“Get in,” he said, and opened the sedan's doors. “In front. You do the driving.”

Casey slid behind the wheel and Perry got in beside him. Nossek got in back and closed the door.

“Let's go,” he said, “and we'd better not be followed.”

“We won't be,” Perry said.

Casey started the car and Nossek told him to drive downtown. Casey made a U turn and Nossek cursed softly.

“It's going to be tough if you get picked up for a traffic violation,” he said. “You got that envelope, Perry? Let's see it.”

Perry reached inside his coat and Casey put a hand out and shoved Perry's arm away.

“When we see the girl,” he said.

Nossek did not answer right away; when he did there was a sneer behind his words.

“Okay, tough guy. Just remember that you asked for this. Swing over to Beacon at the corner.”

Casey made the turn and they drove silently for a block or two; then Perry couldn't stand the silence any longer.

“You said Karen was all right.”

“Sure,” Nossek said. “She's in the pink.”

They crossed the Avenue. The traffic was heavy now and Casey kept in line, driving automatically and thinking hard. A police car moved up on one side and kept pace with them for a second or two and seeing the two officers gave Casey a jolt.

The whole department was looking for Nossek and now Casey was afraid one of the men might recognize him. He half turned. Nossek had seen the car too. He was back in one corner, looking the other way. One of the cops glanced at Casey and grinned.

“Hiya, Flashgun,” he said through the lowered window. “What d'ya hear?”

“Nothing much gives, chum,” Casey said and waved carelessly.

The police car moved on and Casey felt better.

“That time you were lucky,” Nossek said. “Turn left when you come to Charles.”

Casey made the turn. He had had plenty of time to think and mostly it had been about Nossek and Harry. It all came back to him now, the ransacked desk, the smashed plates, the rap from behind that had knocked him out. All that resentment welled up again, becoming the more poignant as he realized that once more these two had the upper hand and that there was nothing he could do about it. This feeling of anger and frustration rode with him until Nossek ordered him to make a right turn and then, as they started up the hill, Casey sat up and forgot his complaints. Because this was the street where Karen Harding lived and—”

“Say,” John Perry said. “This is—”

“Yeah,” Nossek said. “Just pull up in front and park. You know the house.”

Casey fought down his rising amazement, and when he had the answer he saw how very cleverly this whole affair had been conceived and executed. It was daring, but so completely simple as to be practically riskless.

There could be no kidnaping charge ever laid against Nossek and his associates. Karen Harding had not been kidnaped. She was merely entertaining callers. Casey and Perry had not been kidnapped. They were coming here of their own free will. If Karen had not been harmed the most that could be charged against Nossek was simple assault—unless he used his gun.

“This is fine,” the blond man said. “Park here and get out.”

Casey parked. He got out and took his plate-case with him. Nossek came round behind them. “Just take it easy—and don't get ideas. You first, Perry.”

They went in and started up the stairs in single file. At the third floor landing, Nossek stepped ahead and knocked once loudly followed by three quick knocks of a more gentle variety. The door opened and Harry looked out, a gun in his hand.

That he had not expected Casey was obvious from his first reaction. His jaw sagged and the brows that nearly met above his nose flicked upward. He squinted at Nossek and scowled darkly.

“What the hell!”

“I had to bring him,” Nossek said and explained briefly the telephone conversations.

“So,” Harry said, and grinned. “He wanted to come for the ride, huh? Okay. I'm glad to see you, pal. Come in.”

Casey went in with Perry. Harry moved back to the center of the room. With his hat off his black hair was sleek and greasy, with every strand in place.

“Where's Karen?” Perry said huskily.

“She's in conference.”

Casey moved up another step and that's when he saw the third man in the room. This one he recognized, a sloping-shouldered man with a twisted nose and not much neck. Casey couldn't remember his name at first but he had seen him around and knew what he was—an ex-pug and not a very good one, who made a dollar here and a dollar there in any way he could—so long as no work was involved. Then the name came to Casey.

“Hi, Mugsie. You don't care what you do any more, do you?”

“Am I doin' anything?” Mugsie said. “Me friends here wanted a third for rummy so I come along.”

Nossek closed the door. He was watching Casey all the time and his pale eyes were flat and mean.

“Where's the envelope, Perry?”

“Where's the girl? How do we know she's all right,” Casey said.

Harry backed to the door of the bedroom and opened it. “Say hello, sister. Tell 'em how you feel.”

“Karen!” John Perry said. “Darling, are you all right?”

“Yes,” the girl called. “Oh, yes, John.—John, what do they want? What have they done to you?”

Perry couldn't answer this. Emotion choked him and his quick sob was one of relief and gratitude. He forgot where he was and started for the bedroom and Harry reached out and spun him back.

“The envelope, pal,” he said.

Casey glanced back. Nossek had a gun in his hand now. Harry, still holding the front of Perry's coat, motioned Mugsie to the bedroom door.

“Here,” Perry said and yanked the envelope from his inside pocket. “Now let me see her.”

“In a minute,” Harry said. “Sit down.” He gave Perry a push. “Go on now.”

Perry did not seem to understand. “You got the envelope. What more do you want?” he said and started for the bedroom, his jaw set and fists clenched.

Harry let him pass and then reached out and slapped him on the side of the head with the barrel of the gun. Casey stiffened. Nossek moved in front of him, the gun pointed right at Casey's stomach.

“Go ahead, tough guy. I wish you would.”

Casey stopped and tried to put down the anger that had been suddenly fanned into a hot, corrosive blaze. He saw Perry put both hands to his head and double over as the pain hit him.

“We want to see what's in the envelope,” Harry said. “Now sit down before you get me sore.”

Perry backed to a chair and sat down on the edge of it, still holding his head. Harry ripped open the envelope and thumbed unhurriedly through the papers there.

“Bingo,” he said, and nodded to Nossek.

He put the envelope in his pocket and took out a small length of sashcord. When he had fashioned a noose he stepped back to Perry and tapped the top of his head with the gun.

“Put your hands out, pal.”

Perry looked up. There was a tiny trickle of blood on his ear and his teeth were clenched. Then Casey saw he wasn't going to obey and spoke up:

“You'd better do what he wants.”

Perry looked at him.

“Or shall we lay you out first?” Harry said.

Perry held out his hands and watched despondently as the loop tightened about his wrists. Harry took two more turns and put a half-hitch in the end. He pulled the youth to his feet, unfastened his belt, and pulled it from its loops, spinning Perry as it came free.

“Now down on the floor,” he ordered.

By this time Casey knew there would be no chance for him. Resentment still churned inside him, but he could see what the score was and was not surprised. He had known he could take no chance with Karen Harding's safety and he had come simply because he wanted to be sure Perry wasn't tricked. What was happening now was to be expected.

Nossek and Harry had the envelope, which was what they were hired to get, and they had planned well. They were tying up Perry and they would do the same thing to him so that there could be no possibility of pursuit. By the time he or Perry could get to a telephone it would be too late, and the fact that Karen Harding answered but made no attempt to come out of the bedroom suggested that she too had been bound, to a chair, probably, or the bed. He watched Harry secure Perry's ankles with the belt.

“I'm sorry about the envelope, Johnnie,” he said.

“Flash!” It was Karen Harding. “Flash! Is that you? How did you get here?”

“He came along for the ride,” Nossek said, “and now he's going to get it. Mugsie! Come on, Harry, give him a hand.”

Harry had put his gun away. He gave Nossek a knowing glance and moved up with Mugsie. Casey stood there, his eyes on the gun in Nossek's hand, knowing it was no good to put up a scrap now. Without that gun the odds would be tough but not unbeatable; the way things were he was out of his class and he knew it. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that he had accomplished what he came for. The girl was all right. Perry had lost the envelope but that couldn't be helped.

He watched Mugsie and Harry come up on either side of him. Each took one of his arms in both of their hands and he kept his muscles loose and waited for Nossek to get out the rope or tape or whatever it was he was going to use.

The big blond was grinning now, his lips flat against his crooked teeth. Casey didn't like the grin. Nossek was pretty pleased with himself but that grin looked vicious.

“So you're a tough guy,” he said to Casey. “You had to come along to prove it, huh?” He was moving slowly, his feet flat against the rug. “Well, I eat tough guys. How tough are you, anyway?” he said and chopped abruptly with his left fist.

It was too late when Casey saw the blow coming. He could move his head a little and he did, just enough to save his front teeth. The fist hit him below the cheekbone and cut the inside of his mouth. His head snapped back and then he saw that Nossek was going to let him have it again.

All that resentment and frustration had been building up in Casey for a long time. He had been bitter about his own inadequacy, but there had been nothing he could do about it and he had figured on taking his licking. Then in one short second all that was changed and no longer was he frustrated and bitter and resentful, but outraged and furious.

It may have been the taste of blood in his mouth or the shock of the blow; it may have been the thought of the blows that were to come and his own helplessness, or perhaps it was just Nossek's face with his sadistic grin and ugly, crooked teeth. Whatever the reason the dam of Casey's self-control cracked wide and without knowing exactly what he was doing or even thinking that he might bring it off, he stepped back and kicked at the gun.

It was a crazy idea and that may have helped. It caught Nossek flat-footed and the kick was good and the gun sailed end over end across the room.

The rest of it was more or less automatic. With his rage driving him and all else forgotten save the grinning face in front of him, Casey bulged his shoulder muscles and in pulling back for the kick brought both arms across his body.

Mugsie held on. So did Harry. But they weren't as husky as Casey and they weren't braced for any such move. Together they came off balance, swung forward, and slammed into each other, bumping heads and shoulders. As they hit, Casey jerked both arms and they came free and then, as nearly as a man might do two things at once, he shifted and swung two hard hooks, leaning with them, first left and then right, crossing them in front of him.

The power in those hooks came all the way from his thighs. They didn't have to travel far. The left hit Harry's jaw knocking him backward and out of the way; and the right caught Mugsie flush on the button. Mugsie had never been hit like that in the ring. Mugsie went down as though his feet had been jerked from under him. He hit on his face and lay where he fell. And that left Nossek.