“Howard Galloway.”
“Huh?” Burlington jerked, yanked at the baseball cap. “Hey, man, Howie went down ’bout a year ’go! What gives?”
“You and Howie were pals.”
“Well... we chummed a little, yeah. I mean... Howie was an old man compared to me, but we got along, yeah. But he got killed. Some bastard in a heap knocked him off — and you cops didn’t even bother to look for who done it!”
“Where did it happen?”
“Out front! Don’t you know?”
“You see the accident, Ray?” Shayne snapped.
“Naw.”
“Was Howie working here at the time?”
“Yeah!” Burlington said.
“You too?”
“Sure — we was bunkin’ back here! There was... another bed then. I... I tossed it out after Howie got knocked off.”
“You keep saying Howard Galloway was knocked off, Ray. You figured he was murdered?” Shayne asked sharply.
“Naw, naw, man... you’re gettin’ the wrong drift! Knocked off... that’s an expression... just an expression!”
“What are you doing these days?”
“I manage,” Burlington said.
“A liquor store, here, a gas station there, a—”
“Man, I never hit a store in my life! Hey...” He stopped stared at Shayne. “You ain’t fuzz?”
“I don’t know. Am I?”
Ray Burlington continued to stare. Then he snorted and sat on the edge of the bed. “Naw, you ain’t fuzz, Red. You’ve got heat on you. I see it under your arm, but you ain’t fuzz. You don’t know my pedigree. I’m a genuine house man, nothin’ else, Red. What’s your pitch? How come all this crap about Howie?”
“You and Howie a team when he was alive?” Shayne said.
Burlington squinted, became stubborn as he regained confidence. “You didn’t give me your pitch.”
“Eye.”
“Shamus?” Burlington cocked one eyebrow. “And your friend?”
“Partner.”
“What do you two want?”
“Howie and you — a team a couple of years ago?”
“You gotta be kiddin’, man! Howie couldn’t lift a glass to drink water without droppin’ it. He was muscle. Nothin’ else. He was as thick in arm and butt as between his ears. And that’s it, Red. We’re through rappin’ until I see some color.”
Shayne got out his wallet, rifled bills for Ray Burlington to see. “Depends,” the redhead said.
Burlington considered. “Okay, so lay a few questions on me, let’s see where we go.”
“Howie Galloway hired out as private muscle?”
“There’s always a job around,” Burlington nodded, and added, “for you big guys.”
“Howie was a large man?”
“Very large, Red. Not very swift of foot, else he never woulda got knocked down by that heap, but very large. When he leaned against a building it was with his elbow on the third deck.” Burlington chuckled. “That’s a bit of humor.”
“Galloway once was a construction engineer, I understand,” Shayne said.
Burlington almost smiled. “Long ago, he told me, he worked for some buildin’ outfit in China, some. Godforsaken place like that. I dunno, I forget. Anyway, he claimed he once was captured in a war by the Japs, said he escaped. Maybe he did, maybe it all was a lot of crap, I dunno. But I do know one thing: Howie weren’t no engineer. He was a ditch-digger!”
“So maybe a little of his mother’s sense of grandeur wore off on him, huh?” Shayne said.
“Huh?”
“Forget it,” Shayne yanked at his earlobe. “You work houses. Ever hear of a guy named Archibald Jaynes?”
Burlington stirred on the edge of the bed, suddenly found something interesting on the concrete floor. Nerve ends were flicking at him now. He fidgeted. Finally he said, “You promised bread, man!”
“Spill!” Shayne grated.
“Okay, okay. Nobody has to get excited. It ain’t no big deal anyway. So I hit this Jaynes place. It’s a big place, spread out all over hell, it should be ripe picking. Only it ain’t I get a statue, a tiny little statue of some kind and then bells start ringin’ all over the joint. I gotta cut.”
“Come on, man,” said Shayne carefully. “You can do better than that.”
Burlington twisted his hands together. “Well, there was one thing. I seen these boxes — footlockers, they was. At least, that’s what I think they was. I seen a line of ’em, and I was gonna have a look, but then them damn bells went off, and... well, later, I was tellin’ Howie ’bout them, the lockers, and he surprised hell outta me. He got all curious, wanted to know ’bout them lockers.
“Trouble is I couldn’t tell him a damn thing, except they did have this funny little thing, like a dragon, painted on one end, and... anyway, that’s what got Howie excited, and he said maybe him and me was gonna get a big pot of gold fast. Then he went out to see this Jaynes cat the next day, wouldn’t tell me how come he was so excited, just went out there, and then—
“Well, it was that night Howie got knocked off by the heap, so I never did find out what in hell got him jumpin’ like a rubber ball. That’s it, Red. That’s the Jaynes eager. You couldn’t get it better: on film — and it’s gotta be worth fifty, huh?”
“You didn’t see Howie after he had talked to Jaynes?”
“Nope, I ain’t even sure he seen Jaynes I mean, you know, that’s a big spread out there. I don’t figure the gates is open to—”
“How come you didn’t talk to Howie?” Shayne asked.
“Well... ’cause that afternoon the fuzz picked me up on a bummer! There was a place over on the Northside got hit. The fuzz started pointin’ fingers at me. But it weren’t me. Hell, I was on the Southside, working the Jaynes layout... ’course I couldn’t say nothin’ ’bout that, so I had to sleep that night in the slammer. And that’s the night. Howie got knocked off.”
“Anybody ever tried to hit you, Ray?”
“Huh?”
“Since your friend Howard Galloway was killed?”
“Naw. That’s crazy. Why the hell—”
“Maybe Howie was murdered,” Shayne interrupted.
“Huh?”
“Because he asked questions about the footlockers.”
“Oh, come on!” Burlington grinned, unbelieving.
“You ever tell anyone else about those lockers?”
“No!”
“Sure about that?” Shayne insisted.
“Positive, man!”
“Okay,” Shayne put his wallet away. “But keep sharp eyes, huh?”
Burlington leaped to his feet. “Hey, man, you owe me!”
Shayne said, “We’re going out to see Archibald Jaynes, and, of course, we’ll have to tell him how we got on him. Now, if it just happens Archibald Jaynes doesn’t want people knowing about his footlockers, doesn’t, want people coming around asking questions, if it just happens Archibald Jaynes might have a few connections in the underworld, can get a job done with a phone call, and if we happen to drop your name while we’re talking to him, Ray, and—”
“Red, you’re scum!” Ray Burlington shrilled, going down on his knees and yanking a scuffed suitcase out from under the sagging bed.
“You got to take the bad with the good in this world,” Shayne said philosophically. He stopped in the doorway, looked back at Burlington. “You also can look at it from the standpoint of being lucky. You’re getting a chance to put miles between you and Miami.”
Ray Burlington spit. The spittle landed very near Shayne’s toe.
X
Outside the room, Mike Shayne slipped the convertible keys into Foster’s palm and growled out of a corner of his mouth, “Walk natural around to the car, drive down the street a couple of blocks, circle around and watch for me,”