Swede himself opened the door. ‘You’re crazy, Fortune.’
His sons sat in chairs behind the big Norwegian. They got up as Swede spoke. The mother, Magda, was in a green dress that made her wrinkled face a nauseating yellow. She seemed, for an instant, unable to believe that I was actually there again. I did not see the daughter. I pushed in past Swede. The two boys came to meet me with their clenched fists. I felt Swede big behind me.
Before they could gather their wits and swing into action I started to talk. I hit them with every hunch I had and every word I could remember. No names and a lot of guesses. It’s an old police method.
‘He came back and found that Stettin had tagged the car, right? After he killed Tani Jones he came back and found that Jo-Jo had moved the car; it was tagged, and he went out and got the summons book from Stettin. Then he came after Jo-Jo. Sure, I can see how scared you’d all be. I would be, with him after me. I’d be terrified. A man like that, big enough to try to buck even Pappas? Caught in the middle…’
No names, just ‘he’, and it sounds like you know more than you do. If the other man is confused, scared, he will usually slip. The other man knows, he has the secret inside his mind, and all at once under the barrage of words he assumes that you too know. It slips out. He tries to defend himself, and out it comes. I’ve used it a hundred times in divorce cases. A guy thinks his wife knows, and I make him think that; and out it comes.
‘… There he was cheating on Pappas, making a big play for Andy’s girl friend. Then, bang-bang, he kills her. Man, I mean, he’s got trouble. But he can get away all right. Then he gets to the car — and it’s been tagged. People know he’s on the block. Jo-Jo knows he’s on the block. He had to try to kill Jo-Jo! Jo-Jo saw him! What else could he do but try to get Jo-Jo?’
Swede Olsen shook his head at me. The two sons looked like death. I suppose it was death they were thinking about. Even Magda-the-rock blinked those washed-out eyes and seemed hypnotized as I talked. You see, they knew. Like the guilty husband or wife in a divorce mess, they knew and they thought I knew. They thought, I made them think, that I knew more than I did. But I did not have it quite right, you see? They were sure now that I knew too much, but I had it a little wrong. They had to explain to me where I was wrong, why it was not as bad as I made it seem. At least the weakest link did, and that was Swede. Swede and his big boys. Swede was up to his eyes in guilt, and that is the real trap. Swede had been living with it too long. He had to explain how I had it wrong.
‘No, he don’t hurt Jo-Jo,’ Swede said, insisted. ‘He won’t never hurt Jo-Jo. Jo-Jo don’t see nothing, and he ain’t gonna say nothing, see? Okay, he got the lousy ticket, only he ain’t gonna talk. Jake he knows it’s okay.’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ I said. I laughed. ‘A murder rap?’
‘Jake he don’t hurt Jo-Jo,’ Swede insisted, tried to convince himself. I suppose he had convinced himself up until then.
‘Dumb Jo-Jo got to grab that ticket,’ one of the boys said.
‘Stupid jerk,’ the other boy said.
‘Shut up!’ Magda Olsen said, shouted, raged. ‘Shut up!’
Magda had seen the trap. She had sensed the trick I was playing out. She tried to stop them. But Swede had lived with his doubt too long.
‘Hell,’ Swede sneered, ‘it’s okay. Jake he won’t hurt Jo-Jo, but he’ll take care of this creep. You’re through, Fortune. Jake, he’ll handle you good.’
Jake. There it was. At that moment, as I watched all of the Olsens, one thing only was going through my mind — a thought, almost out of left field: If Max Bagnio had not been in Marty’s apartment last night, I would be a dead man now.
Jake Roth had not dared to kill me with Bagnio there. Because Pappas would have wanted to know why Jake had killed me, and the reason was that Jake Roth had killed Tani Jones! That was the one thing Jake never wanted Pappas to know. And that was what was behind the whole mess.
Jake Roth.
It happens like some great discovery in science. Once that first small break comes, then it all fits. It is suddenly all clear. All the pieces come together. Of course Jake Roth.
Isolated facts suddenly assume a pattern. A distorted picture comes into focus. Jake Roth. A cold-blooded killer, not too bright but cunning. A big enough man to hire other men to go against Andy Pappas. Stupid enough to cheat on Pappas and animal enough to kill a dumb girl if he became scared. An animal who lived by violence and the gun, and violence had been the key all along. Of course Jake Roth, and my mind began to put the rest of the pieces together.
‘Jo-Jo took the ticket off the car,’ I said. I saw it in my mind, the action on Water Street that Thursday evening. ‘He pushed the car. It was tagged by Stettin. Jo-Jo was afraid the owner of the car had seen him on the block all day. He thought that maybe the owner would guess who had pushed the car and got it a ticket. He figured the owner would be mad. So he took the ticket and thought the owner would never know. Sure, a kid’s trick, a little prank, a funny move. Very clever. Just take the ticket, and the owner would never even know he had been tagged. Only Jo-Jo made a mistake, didn’t he? Some mistake.’
While I talked I thought about Jake Roth. It was all obvious now. The way Roth had worked me over. The way Bagnio had become nervous. Pappas had not sent them. Jake Roth had been on his own time last night. Roth had brought Max Bagnio to make it look like Pappas had sent them — if he had come alone I might have been suspicious right then. After all, Roth knew what he had done, and he did not know how much I knew. Now my brain gave me the small incident that had been out-of-normal — the way Roth had pushed me too hard that day at O. Henry’s with the message to lay off the Olsens. Pappas had already made the point. Roth had been too eager.
‘What mistake did Jo-Jo make?’ I said.
Swede shrugged. ‘No mistake. Jake he saw that cop tag the car. From the window of the dame’s place.’
I pictured the scene on Water Street. Tani Jones’s apartment must be in the rear of the building on Doyle Street — with a clear view of the north side of Water Street. Jake Roth, with a dead girl in the room, saw Stettin ticket his car that had been pushed into a no-parking zone! Roth must have left on the run or as fast as he could while faking the burglary, and when he got to his car — the ticket was gone.
‘Jo-Jo don’t even know the car!’ one of the boys said.
Roth had just killed Tani Jones, and his car had been tagged — with the licence number a matter of record. All right, why was that so bad? Even if the police managed to learn about the ticket, it only placed Roth on the scene. They still had to place Roth inside the apartment of Tani Jones to make a charge stick. But the answer to this was clear enough. It wasn’t the police that scared Roth; it was Andy Pappas.
Roth had had no business on Water Street that day. To be there proved he had lied to Pappas, and Roth certainly knew Tani Jones. Andy Pappas could put two and two together as well as the next man. He could do it better — Andy lived his life wary and suspicious of everything. The lie, the presence of the car on Water Street, and the fact that Roth knew Tani, would have made Pappas at least suspicious. Once suspicious, Andy would have found out the rest — he had ways.
All right, but what had made Roth think that Pappas would learn about the ticket and the car — even from the summons book? How could Andy find out about the ticket if it were turned in by Stettin? There was only one way. I remembered what Gazzo had said about Roth’s alibi — Jake had been at the Jersey shore all day. The captain had said that the police knew that Roth’s car had never left Jersey — his car!
‘The car wasn’t Jake’s, was it? It was one of Pappas’ own cars,’ I said. That was the only answer. The car had been registered to Pappas, and therefore the summons could get back to Andy someday. ‘Jo-Jo took the ticket. Roth couldn’t even pay it if he had wanted to. Not much, but enough problem for Jake. He had to get the summons book from Stettin and then try to find the ticket.’