"You'll buzz me in a coupla hours. I'll see what I can do, okay?"
"Got it."
Simon Helm had had visions of money dangled before his eyes. He was waiting for me with photostats of the records he had accumulated and all the additional information he had picked up. He pulled a chair out for me, got behind the desk and swung the folder around for me to view his massive efforts in my behalf. "There it is, Mr. Bannerman, but I'm afraid it's all too late. Vance Colby picked up the option on that property for ninety thousand dollars. The option to be exercised within three months. The property alone is worth in the vicinity of a quarter million and his proposed installation will go a half million, at least. At this point I don't know if he is acting for himself, or another party, but in view of his past and knowing his method of operation, I'd say he was simply first man in a deal. You understand?"
"I get the picture. The property is out, right?"
"Definitely. The money has changed hands. The option has been signed. I'm afraid you'll have to consider other properties."
I shoved my hat back and wiped my face. "Guess I'll have to. I'll take a run out and look at the other places tomorrow. Sorry to put you to all the trouble."
"No trouble at all, Mr. Bannerman. Take your time and if you need any help, just call on me."
"Thanks, Mr. Helm, I will. Count on it."
I got gas down the corner and put in a call to the house. Annie answered and when I asked for Anita, put her on. I said, "Cat, honey."
"Where are you?"
"In town. You have any news?"
When she spoke her voice was hushed. "Uncle Miles is in his room with Teddy. They've had people here all day and didn't want me around. That one man was here too."
"The older guy, Matteau?"
"That's the one." Very softly she said, "Cat . . . what's happening?"
"Trouble, baby. Where's Vance?"
"He just left. It was . . . terrible. They won't back down. They want all that money and . . ."
"Don't worry about it, Anita."
"I heard that . . . that . . . Matteau tell Vance . . . if he didn't get everybody straightened out somebody else would get killed. He's vicious. Cat . . . please help us, please. Vance is doing all he can, converting all his properties to help Uncle Miles. Cat, I'm frightened."
"Relax, doll. I'm beginning to get ideas. You just sit tight, hear?"
"I can't. Oh, please, Cat, do something."
"I will, baby," I said. "I will."
I hung up and stared at the phone a moment. A lot had fallen into place, now it was time to play the calculated hunches. I made a collect call to the coast and got Marty Sinclair and gave him the dope I wanted. I told him to push it and reach me anytime at night at the motel if he had to, otherwise I'd call him back tomorrow.
Then I went home. I parked the car, opened the door, walked in and flipped on the light. She was laying there naked as a jaybird on my bed with her clothes strewn all over the floor and a cigarette burning in her fingers.
I said, "How'd you get in here, Irish?"
"Told the desk clerk I was your wife." She held up her hand with the rings on it. "He simply looked at this and thought you'd appreciate the surprise. Do you?"
"Love it. You don't mourn long, do you?"
"Hardly a minute, Mr. Bannerman."
I looked at her sharply and she caught it.
"Cat Cay Bannerman," she said. "The desk clerk told me that too. Like you said, you are big. But you didn't know Chuck in the Marines, did you?"
"No."
"Then you must have come to see me."
"Right."
"Why?"
"I was checking out a motive for your husband's murder. A good nympho can get a lot of guys killed. I wanted to see how well you knew Rudy Bannerman."
"And I told you."
I put it to her bluntly. "There was somebody else . . . not Sanders. You were seen with him several times."
"Mr. Bannerman, there have been many others."
"This one was there often. Late."
Irish Maloney wouldn't have made a dime playing poker. She frowned, thought a moment and said, "There was Arthur Sears. I liked him."
"What was he like?"
"Good-looking, money, big fancy Buick, treated a woman real nice. He was in love with me." She grinned and squirmed on the bed. "He wanted me to leave Chuck and go away with him. He said he'd do anything for me and he meant it too. I like that, men wanting to do all those things for me."
"Why didn't you go?"
"And have Chuck slap me silly? Besides, he didn't have that kind of money. When I go, I want to go first class. That takes the big kind. He knew what I meant."
I walked over and sat down, stretching out my legs. Irish tensed herself and spread out all across the bed, her eyes languid, watching every move I made. "Why aren't you working tonight?" I asked her.
"Because I was waiting for you. Petey told me where you stayed. I told you I was coming to get you."
"Maybe I'll toss you out on your can."
"You won't."
"Why not?"
"You want me too, that's why." She reached her arms out. "Come, man."
I didn't want to, but it had been too long. I made all the mental excuses, then I got up and went over to her. She was big and voluptuous and ready and I was there. And ready too. And I found out why any man could get a crazy desire for someone like her, even if he was Rudy Bannerman.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I got up before she was awake, showered and left a note for her to get home and I'd see her later, then I went out and phoned Petey Salvo. It hadn't taken the big guy long to pinpoint Gage and Matteau. They were both staying at the Orange House on Main Street and had spent the night before making the rounds of the clubs winding up at the Cherokee doing nothing more than having a few drinks and watching the action at the tables. About two o'clock Gage had gotten pretty jumpy and Matteau had taken him out. Petey had the idea Gage was a hophead and had to go somewhere to mainline one and he didn't know how right he was. He was all for going down and nailing the pair in their hotel but I vetoed it and told him to hang on until I pulled the cork myself.
At the restaurant I picked up the latest piece of news. Guy Sanders was on his way back to Culver City and the trial date had been set. Time was running out on the sucker.
Hank Feathers was still in bed when I got there. Waking him up wasn't easy and he came out of the pad swearing up a storm. I even made the coffee and it wasn't until he had two of them down that he began to act normal. He was sore because he had to spend a couple of hours with Lieutenant Travers going over my history and couldn't find one thing to say except that he knew my old man, I was a Bannerman and that was it. I wasn't about to fill him in all the way and he knew it.
He said, "You sure raised hell downtown, son."
"It's about time somebody did."
"Fine, fine, but they dragged me in. When a Bannerman yells around here everybody jumps. You put the needle into Travers about those two guys and he's got the lines burning all over the state. You know the pitch?"
"Suppose you tell me."
"For six years the Syndicate has been trying to move in here. They got a few places started but the state pushed them out. So now they got a toehold again. Matteau's filed as a resident and even though they know he's tied up with a bunch in Chicago they can't prove it or do a damn thing about it. He's got power behind him and it moves all the way to the Capitol. Brother, this town's got trouble."
"So stick around and get a good story. You still ready to step on toes?"
"Bannermans'?"
"Anybody's."
"I'm a reporter, son. Somebody steps out of line, it's news and I get it printed. What have you got going?"
"Throw a monkey wrench into the Sanders thing. Make it look like a trial of political expediency. Hit the D.A. and get the paper to press for a full investigation . . . anything to delay the trial. Give it enough coverage so they won't be able to get a jury that hasn't read or heard about it. Can you do that?"