The car stopped. “You’re not smart,” Charlie said.
“Agreed.”
The hulk hauled Ryan out of the back seat, held him by the front of his suit coat and slapped him, backhand and forehand. Ryan smiled placidly.
The man slapped him again. “Come on! You’re tough enough to take Essta. Don’t you want to try me?”
“Not quite yet, friend.”
He was booked, relieved of his possessions, shoved into a small dark cell midway down the single cell block...
The turnkey had taken the breakfast tray away when Ryan Kestrick looked up — and saw the big man outside the cell staring incredulously at him.
“Lord, Ryan,” he said. “You’ve — they killed you years ago. I saw the name and...”
Ryan stood up. “McCloud,” he said softly. “Major McCloud! What are you doing here?”
McCloud, a slow-moving man with a mobile pendulous face and enormous hands, unlocked the cell and came in. They shook hands as though it were the most solemn of ceremonies. They sat side by side on the bunk.
“What am I doing here?” McCloud said. “I guess you never did know my home town. This is it. I got out in — let me see — early ’46. I tried to make a go of a private investigation business but there wasn’t enough call for it. So I went on the cops here. The medals impressed ’em, I guess. I’m a lieutenant.” He sighed. “It isn’t a bad life I guess.” He shook off the mild depression and his voice hardened. “But you, in here. What the hell is this all about?”
“I can ask you that. I finally got out a month ago. The last operation was a daisy. Out of touch for fourteen months. I came down here to get my blood pressure down and figure out some good thing to do with my life.”
McCloud stared at him. “You’ve been... hell, eight years of it. No man can take that!”
“I learned to stop thinking.”
McCloud laced his thick fingers and stared down at his knuckles, white with pressure. “I had four operations and even now I get nightmares. Remember Stevenson and Lowery?”
Ryan laughed flatly. “It’s funny, McCloud. Real funny. I can’t even remember their names any more.”
“You’re booked for assault and battery, plus a little pocket-picking, Ryan. I don’t get it.”
Ryan gave him the story.
McCloud listened soberly. “I can fix it,” he said. “I’ll have you out of here in a half hour. But you got to promise me to get in that car of yours and get away from this town.”
Ryan stood up. His voice was harsh. “No dice, McCloud. I had my face slapped. These local comics need some enlightening. I want to go right back to the hotel and stay there just as long as I want to.”
McCloud stood up too. His voice was pleading. “What difference does it make to you, Ryan? Forget this town. It isn’t something you can clean up.”
“How do you- mean?”
“I’ll give you the picture. This whole town was laid out by a man named Sam Baidee, back in the middle twenties. Sam was in his late thirties then. A smart, honest guy. He put every dime into construction of the two big hotels. He owned the town. The depression wiped him out and he didn’t have a dime. His wife died right about then and the daughter, that crazy Gria, was a little bit of a kid. Sam lived in a shack down the coast and did commercial fishing. Brutal work.
“The girl got old enough to go away to school and I guess Sam got the money by doing a little smuggling. The girl didn’t know anything about it. While she was away, he began to pyramid the smuggling money. He got into the gambling business, first in a small way. Slots in the back rooms of local bars. There was an army camp near here and he did well. He put the profits into plush establishments. The army took over the two hotels. When the army auctioned off the hotels Sam had the money to buy them back at the auctions. He’d owned them in the first place.
“Ever since the war he’s been getting more powerful. He owns the town again, but it isn’t the Sam Baidee who owned it back before the depression. He managed to keep the girl in the dark. She’s been back here two years and now she knows just what her pop is. She’s been taking it hard because she thought the old man could do no evil. Essta is the old man’s right hand. Essta controls a pretty rough bunch of boys. The rumor is that the old man wants the girl to marry Essta and keep the empire intact. That’s the combination you walked into.”
“He owns the town?”
“That’s right.”
“And the police?”
“City and county.”
Ryan lowered his voice. “And he owns you, McCloud?”
McCloud glanced at him and looked away. “I sort of wish you hadn’t asked that, Ryan.”
“I’d like to hear you say it.”
McCloud’s tone was angry. “What the hell am I going to do? You know what I learned to do. Parachute in from three hundred feet at night. Kill a man before he can make a sound. What kind of talent is that to put on the market? I got a wife and two kids, Ryan. Little kids.”
“The violins will now play Hearts and Flowers.”
“I should have remembered how much heart you’ve got.”
“Who is Lieutenant Charlie?”
“Charlie Parish. Errand boy for Essta.”
“And the big one with the yellow teeth and the dumb look?”
“Sergeant DuBrie.”
“What’s their usual procedure?”
“In a case like this? If you keep trying to beat your head on the wall, Kestrick, they’ll convict you and give you a year. In this state that means a year working on the county roads.”
“Have they done that to other people when they didn’t like the hair style?”
“Quite a few.”
“Have you helped them convict any of those people, McCloud?”
McCloud stared at him. “I don’t know why I have to answer that. You stopped giving me orders four years ago, Kestrick.”
Ryan smiled warmly. With those who knew him best, it was the danger signal. “And do you know why I stopped giving you orders?”
“Huh? No.”
“Because I watched you for a long time. In some ways, McCloud, you’re a nice guy. In our work you were making a good impression. But there are little tip-offs. I had to make a decision. I know now I was right. Under that competent look, McCloud, there’s a streak of mush. You’re an angle boy, whether you admit it to yourself or not. If you’d been taken on any of those missions we went on, you’d have spilled your guts as soon as they started to pry on your fingernails.
“You picture yourself as a big rugged man. In the war you were making like a hero because the pressure was never really on you. Now you’re getting pot-bellied and that softness is beginning to show in your face. You’re going to give those two kids of yours a dandy heritage. My daddy’s a crooked cop. What’re you going to tell them when they’re old enough to find out about you?”
All expression left McCloud’s face. “All right, Kestrick. I was going to go along with you for old time’s sake. I hope you stay in until you rot.”
Ryan laughed sardonically. “The truth comes out.”
McCloud balled a heavy fist.
Ryan lifted his chin. “Okay. I’ll give you a clean shot at me. Then you can go home to lunch and tell how daddy hit the nasty criminal.”
McCloud left, banging the cell door behind him.
Chapter Three
A Monkey’s Uncle
Gria Baidee came late in the afternoon. She stood outside the cell. “Ryan, Ryan! Why didn’t you leave when Essta gave you the chance?”
“Just stupid, I guess. How did you get in here?”
“Bluff. They’re probably calling Sam now and he’ll tell them to get me out of here.”