The grin was real. It was six years ago and not now any longer. The light was back in his eyes again and we were a team riding over anything that stood in our way. "Now I'll tell you something,
Mike," he said, "I don't like the way the gold-badge boys do business either. I don't like political meddling in crime and I'm sick of the stuff that's been going on for so long. Everybody is afraid to move and it's about time something jolted them. For so damn long I've been listening to people say that this racket is over our heads that I almost began to believe it myself. Okay, I'll lay my job on the line. Let's give it a spin and see what happens. Tell me what you want and I'll feed it to you. Just don't hash up the play... at least not for a while yet. If something good comes of it I'll have a talking point and maybe I can keep my job."
"I can always use a partner."
"Thanks. Now let's hear your angle."
"Information. Detailed."
He didn't have to go far for it. The stuff was right there in his lap. He pulled it all out of the envelope and thumbed the sheets apart. The light behind his head made the sheets translucent enough so the lines of type stood out and there weren't very many lines.
"Known criminals with Mafia connections," he drawled. "Case histories of Mafia efficiency and police negligence. Twenty pages of arrests with hardly enough convictions to bother about. Twenty pages of murder, theft, dope pushing, and assorted felonies and all we're working with are the bottom rungs of the ladder. We can name some of the big ones but don't fool yourself and think they are the top joes. The boys up high don't have names we know about."
"Is Carl Evello there?"
Pat looked at the sheets again and threw them on the floor in disgust. "Evello isn't anywhere. He's got one of those investigatable incomes but it looks like he'll be able to talk his way out of it."
"Berga Torn?"
"Now we're back to murder. One of many." "We don't think alike there, Pat."
"No?"
"Berga was special. She was so special they put a crew of boys on her who knew their business. They don't do that for everybody. Why did the committee want her?"
I could see him hesitate a moment, shrug and make up his mind. "There wasn't much to the Torn dame. She was a goodlooking head with a respectable mind but engaged in a mucky racket, if you get what I mean."
"I know."
"There was a rumor that Evello was keeping her for a while.
It was during the time he was raking in a pile. The same rumor had he gave her the boot and the committee figured she'd be mad enough to spill what she knew about him."
"Evello wouldn't be that dumb," I said.
"When it comes to dames, guys can be awfully dumb," he grinned at me knowingly.
"Finish it."
"The feds approached her. She was scared stiff, but she indicated that there was something she could give out, but she wanted time to collect her information and protection after she let it out."
"Great. I snuffed the butt out and leaned back in the chair. "I can see Washington assigning her a permanent bodyguard."
"She was going to appear before the committee masked."
"No good. Evello could still spot her from the info she handed them."
Pat confirmed the thought with a nod. "In the meantime," he went on, "she got the jitters. Twice she got away from the men assigned to cover her. Before the month was out she was practically hysterical and went to a doctor. He had her committed to a sanitarium and she was supposed to stay there for three weeks. The investigation was held up, there were agents assigned to guard the sanitarium, she got away and was killed."
"Just like that."
"Just like that only you were there when it happened."
"Nice of me."
"That's what those Washington boys thought."
"Coincidence is out," I said.
"Naturally." His mouth twitched again. "They don't know that you're the guy things happen to. Some people are accident prone. You're coincidence prone."
"I've thought of it that way," I told him. "Now what about the details of her escape?"
He shrugged and shook his head slightly. "Utter simplicity. The kind of thing you can't beat. Precautions were taken for every inconceivable thing and she does the conceivable. She picked up a raincoat and shoes from the nurses' quarters and walked out the main entrance with two female attendants. It was raining at the time and one of them had an umbrella and they stayed together under it the way women will who try to keep their hair dry or something. They went as far as the corner together, the other two got in a bus while she kept on walking."
"Wasn't a pass required at the gate?"
He nodded deeply, a motion touched with sarcasm. "Sure, there was a pass all right, each of the two had a pass and showed it. Maybe the guy thought he saw the third one. At least he said he thought so."
"I suppose somebody was outside the gate too?"
"That's right. Two men, one on foot and one in a car. Neither had seen the Torn girl and were there to stop anyone making an unauthorized exit."
I let out a short grunt.
Pat said, "They thought it was authorized, Mike."
I laughed again. "That's what I mean. They thought. Those guys are supposed to think right or not at all. Those are the guys who had my ticket lifted. Those are the guys who want no interference. Nuts."
"Anyway, she got away. That's it."
"Okay, we'll leave it there. What attitude are the cops taking?" "It's murder, so they're working it from that end." "And getting nowhere," I added.
"So far," Pat said belligerently. I grinned at him and the scowl that creased his forehead disappeared. "Lay off. How do you plan to work it?"
"Where's Evello?"
"Right here in the city."
"And the known Mafia connections?"
Pat looked thoughtful a moment. "Other big cities, but their operational center is here too." He bared his teeth in a tight grimace. His eyes went hard and nasty as he said, "Which brings us to the end of our informative little discussion about the Mafia. We know who some of them are and how they operate, but that's as far as it goes."
"Washington doesn't have anything?"
"Sure, but what good does it do. Nobody fingers the Mafia. There's that small but important little item known as evidence."
"We'll get it," I told him, ". . . one way or another. It's still a big organization. They need capital to operate."
Pat stared at me like he would a kid. "Sure, just like that. You know how they raise that capital? They squeeze it out of the little guy. It's an extra tax he has to pay. They put the bite on guys who are afraid to talk or who can't talk. They run an import business that drives the Narcotics Division nuts. They got their hand in every racket that exists with a political cover so heavy you can't bust through it with a sledge hammer."
He didn't have to remind me. I knew how they operated. I said, "Maybe, chum, maybe. Could be that nobody's really tried
hard enough yet."
He grunted something under his breath, then, "You still didn't
say how you were going to work it."
I pushed myself out of the chair, wiping my hand across my
face. "First Berga Torn. I want to find out more about her." Pat reached down and picked the top sheet off the pile he had
dropped on the floor beside him. "You might as well have this
then. It's as much as anyone has to start with."
I folded it up and stuck it in my pocket without looking at it.
"You'll let me know if anything comes up?"
"I'll let you know." I picked up my coat and started for the
door.
"And Mike..." "Yeah?"