The doorman of the Montmorency Club wasn’t surprised therefore at the sight of the dapper figure in spats, checked suit and bright tie who came forward arrogantly.
“If it ain’t Bugs,” the doorman said. “I saw about you in the paper a half hour ago. I thought you’d be coming around to see the boys. You look like a million dollars, Bugs. They must have fed you good up in the Big House.”
The man who looked like Bugs flicked ashes from his cigarette and made a fitting wisecrack. All the while he was watching the reactions of the doorman intently. Inwardly he was elated. His disguise made old acquaintances recognize him in the way he wanted. The doorman of the Montmorency Club had no inkling that this man who seemed to be Bugs Gary, was really Agent “X,” famous criminal investigator, come to risk death in the headquarters of an underworld czar.
Chapter XI
A CHECK girl took his hat and cane. A strident band was playing beyond the club’s polished dance floor, warming up for the evening’s work. Few patrons had arrived as yet. It was still too early for slummers. The food at the Montmorency wasn’t inviting. It was the hectic, sinister atmosphere of the place that brought men and women from the after-theatre crowds to get a thrill by rubbing shoulders with the underworld.
But some of Sanzoni’s hangers-on were in evidence. Two dapper, flat-chested men, with twisted smiles, nodded instantly as Agent “X” came through the door. They were at a table, liquor glasses before them. One got up.
“Bugs Gary himself!” he said. “We heard about you getting on the right side of the governor. Welcome to the old joint, Bugs!”
Behind his outward calm, the mind of Agent “X” was active. His pulses hammered. He knew he was in a dangerous spot. His facts on Bugs’ past were brief. He didn’t even know the names of these two. Any moment he might say or do something that would betray him. Then their smiles would change to snarls. Their hands would reach for guns.
He wasn’t afraid of death. He had rubbed shoulders with the Grim Reaper too often. But he knew now what the strange, sinister mystery that menaced the peaceful life of the city was — knew the horror of those NP bombs. The sights and sounds of the razing of Baldwin Island had etched unforgettable memories in his mind.
He grinned expansively, advanced and shook hands with the gangster. “How are you, boy!” he said, using the accent of Bugs Gary that he had so carefully learned.
“You got your glad rags on, Bugs. You look as if you’d struck it rich in the Big House.”
Agent “X” waved a bejewelled hand. “I had a little cash salted away. I thought I’d treat myself to a blow-out now that I’m back on the town.”
“Come and sit down, Bugs? The drinks are on us.”
A waiter came to take his order; but before the drinks arrived, a glamorous blonde woman came through the door at the end of the big room. She made straight for the table “X” was at, and one of the men beside him spoke.
“There’s Goldie, now. She’s spotted you right off, Bugs. You always did have a way with her!”
The two laughed significantly, eyeing “X” sharply. And a sudden sense of danger swept over him. There was something in their manner that he didn’t quite understand. He had heard of Goldie La Mar, notorious night club hostess and underworld queen. But if she had been an especial intimate of Bugs, his files bore no record of it. His heart beat faster as the woman approached.
Seen closer, her glamorous beauty resolved itself into skillful make-up. Her eyes were heavily mascaraed, shadowed underneath. Her face was powdered thickly, her lips rouged into a dazzling but unnatural curve. Yet she walked with the free-swinging grace of a female panther. She was still a handsome, alluring figure of a woman, sure of herself and of her charms.
“Bugs!” she said. “Ain’t this grand! It’s like old times to see you back. Your pals thought of you — even when you went away. It seems a long time. How’s the boy?”
“Never better. And glad to be back, Goldie,” said “X.”
He watched the woman sharply. Her eyes held his, lingered, then seemed to find some lack. She pouted, dropped her lids a moment. The orchestra struck up just then. The woman took a step closer, smiled disconcertingly.
“Let’s see if you can still hoof it, Bugs — the way you used to. Or did you forget how to shake your dogs while you were breaking rocks?”
It was a command, not a suggestion. Goldie was already close, her powdered arm lifted to his shoulder. He encircled her waist at once, danced out on the polished floor. The woman’s heady perfume was in his nostrils. Her supple body was close to his; yet he felt intuitively that he was in the presence of a dangerous being, whose smiling sleekness hid sharp, cruel claws.
Out of earshot of those at the table, Goldie La Mar spoke close to his ear in a husky drawl that held a lingering caress. “What is it, Bugs, you ain’t sore that I hitched up with Gus? You didn’t think a girl like me could wait around for a mug forever? You were a good guy, Bugs, but when they railroaded you away, it looked like you was gonna stay for good. I’m a girl who likes nice clothes and things, and Gus is a good provider.”
THE beating of the Agent’s heart increased. For a moment he was silent, gathering his faculties. The truth came to him. He had ran full-tilt into a complication. Goldie La Mar had been Bugs Gary’s moll before he went to jail. Now she was Sanzoni’s. He must watch his step. Yet perhaps he could make use of the situation, find out the things he wanted to know.
“A guy forgets how to treat women when he stays in stir,” he said. “You don’t see ’em there. But watch me warm up if I stick around this joint. It looks like the old days, Goldie, when the boss was running the stuff and sellin’ it to the suckers at fancy prices.”
Goldie La Mar laughed a brittle, significant laugh. “It’s better than the old days, Bugs. You’ll like it. There ain’t no blue-nosed mugs snooping around to spoil the fun. There’s plenty of dough and the liquor’s better than it used to be. A girl can drink without growing barnacles inside.”
“Sanzoni’s running liquor still then?”
“Hell, no! There ain’t no money in that — when every soda joint has a liquor stamp.”
“What is his racket?”
Goldie La Mar laughed again, mysteriously. “Never mind about that. He’s got a lot of things in the fire. But whatever he does is O. K. at City Hall. I guess the guys in the old days didn’t know what a wire was or how to pull it.”
Agent “X” almost betrayed himself by the tenseness that crept over his body. Then, smiling down at her, he spoke slowly, casually. “Gus always did know how to grease the going, Goldie. You mean he’s got the mayor on his side now?”
For a bare instant a glitter crept into the limpid sheen of Goldie La Mar’s mascaraed eyes. But the Agent’s bland smile disarmed her. She nodded.
“He’s got protection — what I mean. The mayor eats out of his hand. And he keeps the dicks in their places. Gus is gonna be the biggest shot there is. And you can’t blame a girl like me for fallin’ for a guy like that, can you, Bugs?”
Agent “X” forced himself to smile again; forced himself to hide the tense excitement he felt. He was getting nearer the truth now. He spoke softly in the voice of Bugs Gary.
“I can’t blame you, Goldie. That’s right. You always did know how to pick ’em. Look at me! But one of these days you’ll get tired of Gus and—”
Goldie shook her gleaming head coyly. “You and me can be good friends as long as Gus don’t get wise,” she said. “But I ain’t getting tired fast of a mug that pulls in fifty grand a day.”