“This is important, Sergeant. Will you ask the Chief to call me at my home any time after six o’clock?”
Sergeant Thames said he would do that.
Joe Beigler walked from the Toy store carrying under his arm a large brown paper parcel containing an enormous Teddy Bear. He felt a vindictive pleasure that the Bear had cost seventy-five dollars. If the Chief was dumb enough to pander to this little horror, he thought, then it was his bad luck if he was to be seventy-five dollars out of pocket.
He arrived back at the motel to find Terrell waiting for him. He was pleased to see his Chief’s face fail when he told him he owed him another twenty-five dollars.
“I’ll give it to you tomorrow,” Terrell said and taking the parcel, he walked over to the Prescott’s cabin.
Beigler went to the cafeteria and devoured a couple of hamburgers, washed down with ice-cold beer. As he was about to order a second beer, he saw Terrell come out of the Prescott’s cabin and look around for him. He paid his check and went out to Terrell.
“It’s paid off,” Terrell said. “I guess I know who these two guys are, but I want you to hear what she’s told me and see if you agree with me.”
Beigler followed him into the cabin where Angel was sitting, looking at the Teddy Bear with wonder and love while Mrs. Prescott, red with embarrassment, stood by the window, watching her daughter.
“Angel, let’s go over it all again,” Terrell said. “Just once more.”
She smiled at him.
“Yes.” She looked at Beigler. “Thank you for getting me my Teddy. You’re cleverer than you look.”
Beigler scowled at her, sat down at the table and opened his notebook.
“Go ahead, Angel,” Terrell said, sitting down. “You woke up at five minutes to one. You put on your torch and looked at your clock. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the child said. “I looked out of the window and I saw...”
“Why did you look out of the window?” Terrell interrupted.
“I wanted to see if there was a moon. I like looking at the moon.”
“And was there a moon?”
“It was dark, but I could see the moon behind a cloud. Then I saw two men walking down the lane between the cabins. They had to pass under those lights in the tree at the far end of the lane. I saw them clearly.”
“You saw them well enough to recognise them again?”
“I would recognise the fat man, but I don’t think I would recognise the nigger. He...”
“Angel! You mustn’t say nigger,” Mrs. Prescott broke in. “You should say he was a coloured man.”
Angel gave her mother an irritable look and then went on, “All niggers look alike to me, but the other man I’d know anywhere.”
“Before you describe him, tell me what these two did.”
“Well, they walked to Mr. Henekey’s cabin and went up on to the porch. My window was open and I heard them whispering. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was too dark there to see what they were doing, but I heard the door creak open and they went inside.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I waited because I wondered what they were doing in Mr. Henekey’s cabin. I got sleepy, and when Mr. Henekey arrived. I thought he would find out for himself, so I went to sleep.”
“You are sure they didn’t leave before Henekey arrived?”
“No, they were in the cabin all the time. They didn’t leave.”
“All right, Angel, now tell me about the fat man.”
“He was very big and very fat. He was the biggest and fattest man I have ever seen.”
“You told me he was about Sergeant Beigler’s age,” Terrell said, “and he wore a blue shirt and dark trousers. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure his companion was coloured?”
“Oh yes. He had on a yellow and white sweat shirt, and blue jeans.”
“And there was something else that struck you about the fat man?” Terrell said. “Wasn’t there?”
Angel hid her face in the fur of the bear. She giggled.
“Oh, yes. He was a pansy. I know all about them because my friend, Doris, told me. She knows all about them because her brother is one of them. I could tell that was what he was by his walk.”
“Angel!” Mrs. Prescott exclaimed, horrified. “You really...”
“Please!” Terrell said sharply. “This is important,” to Angeclass="underline" “Just how did he walk?”
The child got to her feet and began to mince around the room. Her imitation of the walk of a homosexual was so convincing that even Beigler had to grin.
She stopped and looked at Terrell.
“Like that.”
“I want you to wait here for a little while,” Terrell said. “Then I hope you will help me some more.”
“Now I have my bear, I’ll help you as much as I can,” Angel said gravely. She went over to the bear and hugged it, looking at Terrell, her eyes adoring.
Pleased, Terrell smiled and got up. He nodded to Beigler and the two men went out into the sunshine.
“Well, you name them, Joe,” Terrell said.
“Jacko Smith and Moe Lincoln,” Beigler said without hesitation. “Can’t be anyone else.”
“Hardy’s bodyguard. Looks as if some of the pieces are falling into place. But we have to be sure. The next move is to show Jacko to the child and see if she can recognize him.”
“What do we do?” Beigler rubbed his jaw. “Bring him in... have a line-up and let the kid finger him?”
Terrell shook his head. He looked at his watch. The time was twenty minutes past five.
“We’ll drive her to the Coral bar. Jacko usually shows there around half-past six. We’ll park within sight, and she can spot him when he goes into the bar. If she recognises him, we’ll bring him in and have a line-up.”
They went back to the cabin.
“I want your daughter to come along with us,” Terrell said to Mrs. Prescott. “It is essential that she identifies this man. You’ll come too, of course.”
“Oh no, she won’t,” Angel said firmly. “If she comes, then I won’t help you. Just me and Teddy.”
“Now, Baby-girl,” Mrs. Prescott said helplessly, “you mustn’t be naughty. You can’t go alone with these gentlemen.”
“Then I’m not going at all,” Angel said in a decided voice and putting her arms around her bear, she dragged it off the settee and began to move to the door.
“She’ll be all right with me,” Terrell said. “I’ll bring her right back, Mrs. Prescott. This is important police business.”
Mrs. Prescott started to say something when Angel said, “I’ll see you later, Mummy,” and walked briskly from the cabin to where the police cars were parked.
“If she was my daughter, I’d...” Beigler began, his face red with indignation.
Mrs. Prescott drew herself up.
“I’m glad she isn’t!” she said. “I don’t care for anyone criticising my child and I’ll thank you not to pass such remarks!”
Beigler looked helplessly at Terrell, closed his notebook and followed his Chief out and across to where Angel waited for them impatiently.
Moe Lincoln lay back in the barber’s chair, feeling the keen edge of the razor pass over his black cheek. His eyes were closed, his vicious face in repose as he relaxed to the soft hands of Toey Marsh who had been trying for months to persuade Moe to leave Jacko and come to live with him.
Toey was half Chinese, half Pole: a fat little man, nudging fifty with henna dyed hair, almond shaped eyes and a round fat face. He was considered one of the best barbers in the district and Moe always had an evening shave from him before going out to set the town alight with Jacko.
“What’s the time, baby?” Moe asked, keeping his eyes shut.
“Nearly half-past six,” Toey told him after consulting his watch. “What are you doing tonight? Would you like to come back to my place. I’m throwing a party. Chinese food, and there’s a boy...”
“I’ve got a date with Jacko,” Moe said who liked to torture Toey. “Why should I want to go to your crummy joint?”
Toey sighed. He applied a hot towel to Moe’s face and leaving him for a moment, he wandered to the shop window to look out on to the street.
“That’s funny,” he said. “What are they doing, I wonder?”
“Who, dopey?” Moe asked, pressing the hot towel to his face and breathing in the menthol fumes coming from the towel.
“The cops... out there in a car with a little girl,” Toey said, coming over to change the towel.
Moe stiffened. He snatched off the towel, slid out of the chair and went to the window. He stared at the police car. It was in a parking bay fifty yards or so from the entrance to the Coral bar.
“What’s the matter?” Toey asked.
“Shut your flap!” Moe snarled. “Gimme a towel.” Without taking his eyes off the police car, he reached out his lean black hand and snatched the towel Toey gave him. He hurriedly wiped his face and the back of his neck and then threw the towel from him.
He watched: then he saw Jacko Smith come waddling down the street.
Jacko always parked his pink and blue Cadillac at the far end of the street. He believed the short walk from the parking lot to the Coral bar helped to keep down his weight. He came along, a handkerchief in his fat hand, wearing the light blue shirt, and black baggy trousers he had worn the previous night. From time to time, he dabbed at his white unhealthy looking face with the handkerchief.
Terrell said sharply, “Angel, look down the road.”
Angel, who had been playing with her bear, looked up and saw Jacko as he came towards them.
“That’s him!” she whispered excitedly and pointed her small finger towards Jacko who had paused for a brief moment outside the Coral bar.
“Are you sure?” Terrell asked.
“Yes! That’s him!”
Moe, watching, saw her point at Jacko and his black face creased into a vicious snarl. He realised at once that this child was identifying Jacko to the cops and this could only mean one thing! This child had seen them enter Henekey’s cabin!
Toey standing behind him, and watching what was going on said, “What is it, honey? She fingering Jacko?”
Moe turned savagely on him.
“Shut it! Wipe it out of your mind! You want to stay alive, Toey?”
As the sight of the murderous gleam in the vicious black eyes, Toey quailed.
“I never saw a thing!” he stammered. “Honest, I never...”
“Shut it!” Moe snarled.
He watched Beigler start the car engine and then drive away towards headquarters.
Moe paused only long enough to glare at Toey.
“Remember... if you’ve seen anything, Toey, I’ll slit you,” he said, and then moving fast, he ran across the street into the Coral bar.
Jacko was about to order a shot of whisky and a beer chaser when Moe came in.
Moe said, “Let’s get out of here, Jacko, and fast!”
The expression in Moe’s gleaming eyes was enough for Jacko. He waddled after Moe, moving his enormous legs as fast as he could and panting.
The barman watched them go, grimaced, and then returned to his task of washing glasses.