She looked at the thin face, the cold, merciless eyes and the paper−thin lips. She said, “I was forced into this two months ago.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t Carrie want me to see you?”
“I don’t know.”
Raven said, “Get out of bed and take that thing off.”
Sadie shook her head wildly. “No…” she said, clinging to the sheet. “Leave me alone.”
“Do it,” Raven said.
“No. You’re not touchin’ me. I’ll screamI’ll scream….”
Raven hit her on the side of her jaw very hard. Her head snapped back and she went limp, falling against the top of the bed with a little thud.
He got off the bed, went into the other room and found some cord. He came back again, stripped off the sheet, turned her over on her face and tied her hands behind her. He turned her again and gagged her with her stockings that hung over the bedrail. Then he fastened her ankles securely to each of the bedposts. By the time he had finished she had recovered from the blow. Her eyes pleaded, but he didn’t look at her.
He went out and came back after a few minutes with a small bottle containing some colourless fluid. He sat down beside her on the bed. “After tonight you’ll do anything that I tell you without hesitation. I ain’t got time to persuade you. I like a dame to obey. You’ll obey after this.”
He took the cork out of the bottle and, bending over her shrinking body, poured the fluid on to her nightdress, low down.
She jerked as the cold fluid ran down her body. A strong smell of turpentine filled the room. Raven got up and replaced the cork. “It’ll take a couple of weeks to get over this,” he said with a little grin. “But I can wait.
I shan’t have to do it again.”
She lay very still, a puzzled look in her eyes. She couldn’t understand why he had done this. She felt nothing, only the cold wetness on her skin. She could understand pain, she could understand beating, but this defeated her.
He made sure that her bonds were tight, testing the knots carefully. He adjusted the gag and then he straightened.
The puzzled look in her eyes suddenly gave way to fear. The fluid began to penetrate. She twisted this way and that as the horrible burning sensation began to grow.
Raven nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, turning out the light, and went away, leaving her writhing in the heavy darkness.
5
September 7th, 2.20 p.m.
WHEN Special Prosecutor Dewey said, “Don’t you remember any testimony about Hines and the poultry racket there by him?” Jay Ellinger dropped his pencil and sat back with a gasp.
Hines’s defender, Stryker, was already on his feet, shouting, “I demand a mistrial. Your Honour! Your Honour! I demand a mistrial!”
Ellinger whispered to the Tribune reporter, “It’s over. They’ve been waitin’ for a loophole like this.”
The Tribune reporter shook his head. “Naw,” he said, “they’ll go on. This goddamn’ trial will last for years.”
But Ellinger knew in his bones that Dewey had made just that one little slip that would give the Judge the chance of getting Hines freed. Although the trial dragged on over the week−end, by Monday everyone knew that Dewey’s tremendous work of bringing Hines to trial had to be started all over again.
Ellinger got his copy off and then immediately caught a train back to East St. Louis. He was determined to resign before he could be sent on some other job that would keep him from the work he had been impatiently waiting to tackle.
Since he had been away he hadn’t heard one word from Benny. He had been so busy attending the Hines trial that he had not been able to check up with the home town news. Now, as he stepped out of the train, he could hardly contain his patience to get started.
He took a taxi to the Banner offices and went immediately to see Henry.
He burst into the office. Henry gaped at him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he snapped. “I want”
“Save it,” Jay said quickly; “I’m through. I quit. I resign…. Get it?”
Henry relaxed in his chair. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You gone crazy?”
Jay sat down. “No,” he said, “I’m just through. I thought I’d get that in before you gave me another little job out of town. Poison ain’t keeping me muzzled any more, Henry. I’m working on my own for a while.”
Henry sighed. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll tell him.”
“Now listen, Chief, tell me what’s been goin’ on. Anythin’ new on the Mendetta angle?”
Henry lit a cigar. “Plenty,” he said briefly. “Vice’s been organized on a big scale here. From reports that I hear, whoever it is who’s running the game is doing it on a real money−making scheme. He’s got the monopoly here. The girls have been driven off the streets. You’ve never seen anything like it. You won’t find one single girl poundin’ a beat. Even the cops couldn’t clean up a town as this guy’s done. But he’s got houses everywhere. At his own prices. The rake−off must be colossal.”
“Who is it?”
Henry shrugged. “They say it’s Grantham. He’s payin’ all the bills. The cops are so well oiled that they leave him alone. Poison won’t let a word in his papers. The other rags follow his lead. Everyone is making money, as far as I can see, except the girls themselves.”
“Any girls missing?”
Henry nodded. “The Missing People’s Bureau has been taken over by a guy named Goldburg. He’s in Grantham’s pocket. No one does anything about the girls. They just write up particulars and that’s all. The increase in missing girls is up forty per cent. They’re gettin’ girls in from outside too. The guys I’ve met who’ve been to the houses tell me that every week there’s a new set of girls. They’re drilled in every form of vice imaginable.”
Jay rubbed his hands. “I’m goin’ after this racket, Chief,” he said. “I’ll smash it or bust.”
Henry looked worried. “It’s too big for you,” he said. “These guys are makin’ dough now. They’re dangerous.”
“If I can find out anythin’ to prove it I’ll turn the whole thing over to the F.B.I.,” Jay said. “I ain’t tacklin’
them single−handed.”
“What the hell do you think the F.B.I. are doin’ now?” Henry snapped. “They’re just waitin’ to pounce. This guy is so smart they can’t move yet. If they catch him in the Mann Act they can move. But no one knows how he gets his girls across the State line.”
Jay got up. “Well, I’m free. I’ve got nothin’ to do. So I may as well look this over. If I can tie Poison up to this I’ll do it.”
Henry reached out his hand. “Good luck,” he said. “If I’d the guts I’d get out of this game myself. I’m too old now to look for anything else.”
Jay shook hands with him. “Leave it to me,” he said. “If I want any help I’ll come and see you.”
Henry smiled crookedly. “After today, Jay,” he said, “you and I’ve got to take different roads. Poison will make me go after you.”
Jay went to the door. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll remember that,” and he went out fast.
6
September 7th, 10.45 p.m.
THE SMART little dance−hall was crowded. Soft lights, heady swing, and laughter. It drew the girls and their partners like moths to a naked flame.
A tall, good−looking Jew, well dressed, a small diamond glittering in his tie, glanced carefully round the room as he sat at a quiet table. Particularly, his eyes dwelt on the line of unattended girls who sat chattering to each other, laughing and giggling, but hoping for a male to take them on to the floor.