“Someone wants you on the phone, dear,” he said. “Just wouldn’t say who he is.”
Toey went into the hall and picked up the receiver. His face brightened with excitement as he recognised Moe’s voice.
“Toey,” Moe said, “I’m across the way in the Drug Store. I want you over here for five minutes.”
“Come on up, baby,” Toey said. “Join the party. Come on, baby. You’ll have lots of fun.”
“I want to talk to you alone,” Moe said. “Is Freda there?”
“Yes, but...”
“Then you come down here. I don’t want him around while I’m talking to you. I’ve got something to say to you alone.”
“You have? What, baby?”
“Jacko and me have had a row. Come on, Toey, for Judas’ sake!”
“You mean you two have quarrelled?”
“Not a word to anyone. Come on, Toey. I want to talk to you. Hurry it up!”
“I’m coming,” Toey said and replaced the receiver. He thought: At last! After all this wait!
“I’ll give him the big front room! I’ll have it done over and it’ll need a better bed, but...”
Freda, standing in the doorway, interrupted Toey’s thoughts by asking, “Who was that?”
Toey frowned at him. He was bored with Freda now.
“No one you know,” he said. “Go back to the party. I don’t like being spied on.”
Freda gave him a hurt look and returned to the apartment, but as soon as he heard Toey start down the stairs, he silently peered over the banister rail.
He saw Toey reach the dimly lit lobby and make for the front entrance, then he heard Toey give a quick gasp and saw him stumble forward on his hands and knees. Out of the darkness, knife in hand, Moe appeared for a few fleeting, horrible seconds as he thrust the knife twice more into Toey’s fat back. Then Moe, like a black ghost, was gone and Freda heard a car start up and drive away. He ran screaming back into the crowded apartment.
The news of Toey Marsh’s murder reached police headquarters as Terrell entered the operations room. Two plain clothes officers had Freda with them. Sobbing and moaning, he blurted out to Terrell what he had seen.
“Take him away and lock him up,” Terrell said. “Send the wagon out and collect the rest of them. Get Hess with the boys over there. Send out a State alarm for Lincoln.”
While this was being dealt with, he drew Beigler aside.
“What the hell’s happening in this town?” he said. “Three murders in two days. You know something? I’m scared about that little girl, Angel Prescott. She’s the one witness who can pin Henekey’s murder on those two. I must be slipping. I should have given her a police guard.”
“I’ll alert the nearest patrol to go to the Motel,” Beigler said, reaching for the microphone. “Think it would be an idea to pick her up with her mother and bring them here?”
Terrell hesitated, then shook his head.
“Tell them to take them to my home. Carrie will look after them for a couple of days until we find these two hoods. Detail one of the boys to guard the house. Still no news of Jacko?”
“No. Looks as if he’s skipped town,” Beigler said and started to call the patrol cars. A minute later, he turned to Terrell, “A car will be there in five minutes. They’ll take the Prescotts right to your house, Chief.”
When Moe reached the Park Motel, he found Hoppy waiting for him.
“A couple of cops took the kid and the woman away about twenty minutes ago,” Hoppy reported.
“They were in that cabin,” and he pointed.
Moe knew then for certain the child had seen Jacko. He cursed, then telling Hoppy to get lost, he drove fast to the nearest drug store and called Lee Hardy’s penthouse.
As the telephone bell began to ring, Hardy unlocked his front door and entered the penthouse. As he walked into the big lounge, he was startled to see Jacko Smith lolling in one of his chairs, the telephone receiver clamped to his fat ear.
Jacko was saying, “Come back here, Moe. Watch it. Dump the car and come in the bus. They know my car,” and he hung up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Hardy said furiously.
Jacko eyed him.
“We’re in trouble,” he said softly. “You, me and Moe. The cops are looking for us.”
Gina came to the doorway.
“Tell that fat louse to get out of here!” she screamed. “He forced his filthy...”
“Shut up!” Jacko snarled. He looked at Hardy. “It’s Henekey.”
Hardy lost colour. He turned to Gina. “Look, Pekie, will you wait in the bedroom? I’ll handle him.”
“I’m going out!” Gina said. “If you imagine I’m going to breathe the same air as this fat slug, you’re mistaken! You handle him... I’m going to a movie!”
“Stay here!” Jacko said viciously as she began to move to the door.
Gina paused and was about to release a stream of abuse when she saw the.38 automatic in his hand, pointing at her. She had been in many difficult situations in her young life, but no one had ever pointed a gun at her before with such glaring, killing eyes behind it. She stared at the gun, not moving.
Hardy said, “Put that gun away!” But there was no real snap in his voice and he looked a little sick.
“She stays here!” Jacko said.
Hardy hesitated, then to Gina, “Better go to your room, Pekie.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Gina shrilled. “You’re not letting this fat slob dictate to you, are you?”
“Get out!” Jacko said and heaved himself out of his chair.
As Hardy made no move to protect her, she turned and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door. Hardy walked over to the cocktail cabinet and poured himself a large Scotch.
“Have you gone nuts, Jacko?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “Put that goddamn gun away!”
Jacko lowered his bulk into the chair. He laid the gun on the broad arm of the chair as he watched Hardy take a drink.
“The cops know we knocked off Henekey,” he said. “They’ve got a witness.”
“Damn you!” Hardy exclaimed, his face flushing with rage. “Why weren’t you more careful? Who’s the witness?”
“A kid. Moe went out to the Motel to take care of her, but the cops beat him to it. Toey Marsh saw her fingering me, so Moe slit him. Now we are right in the crap to our necks.”
Hardy wiped the cold sweat off his face. He struggled to fight down a rising panic. He said, “Now look, Jacko, you get out of here. From now on, you and Moe are on your own. You’re not dragging me into this. You get out!”
Jacko fanned himself with his dirty handkerchief.
“They catch us... they catch you. Moe’s coming here. We’ll sit and wait for him.”
Hardy remembered the gun he had in his desk drawer. If he could kill this fat queer, he could tell the police it was in self-defence. He was sure Gina would back him up and the cops could never hang anything on him with Jacko... and Moe, of course, out of the way.
“Well, if you feel that way about it,” he said and wandered casually towards his desk.
“We’ll wait for Moe.” He began to open a drawer in his desk when Jacko said, “You want to die, baby? What’s it to me to kill a second time? Get away from that desk!”
Hardy looked at the.38 pointing at him, then shrugged and moved away from the desk and sat down.
Moe got off the bus at the Miami terminal. He was now worried. If he couldn’t find this kid and knock her off, Jacko and he would be for the gas box. But how to find her? Where had the cops taken her?
He moved quickly through the crowd milling around the terminal and approached the taxi rank. The driver of the first cab was a Jamaican. He nodded to Moe as he opened the cab door. Moe told him to drop him at the beginning of Bay Shore Drive. As the cab moved away, Moe lit a cigarette and tried to relax. He had a ten minute drive ahead of him and he concentrated his thoughts on what his next move should be.