‘Listen, Danny,’ he said in his cop voice, ‘cut the oil. Baldy Riccard was in town last Tuesday. He stayed for three days. I want to know what he was doing during those three days... so go ahead and tell me.’
‘Baldy Riccard?’ Danny sat back, his old eyes widening with surprise. He was here? Well!’ He shook his ageing head. ‘Mr. Lepski, I must confess I am a little hurt that he didn’t come to see me. After all, one time, we were good friends.’ He heaved a sigh that knocked down three of his model soldiers. ‘There it is. Ex-criminals don’t keep friends. They lead lonely lives. Of course a man with your contacts and with your ambitions, Mr. Lepski, couldn’t know nor appreciate what it means to be lonely.’
Lepski smiled: an unpleasant smile of a cynical cop.
‘Danny, you may not guess it, but you’re heading for a load of trouble,’ he said. ‘You are going to sing about Baldy or else...’
Danny was far too old a hand to react to anything that sounded like a bluff.
‘You have nothing on me, Mr. Lepski. I told you I haven’t seen Baldy.’
‘I’m not deaf. Those two whores who come here every Sunday night and perform... I’m tossing them in the tank. When they are not wriggling about on your goddamn carpet, they are shoplifting. So they’ll go away for a couple of years, and I’ll tell them it was you who put the finger on them. How would you like that?’
Danny blinked, telling Lepski from the blink he wouldn’t like it.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Lepski.’
‘You’re wasting my time. When I have those two bags in the tank, I’m coming after you. How would you like another five years in the cooler, Danny?’
Danny flinched.
‘I’ve done nothing.’
‘Of course you haven’t, but suppose I found a couple of packets of the white stuff in this hovel? Do you imagine you could talk yourself out of that rap?’
‘You wouldn’t do a thing like that to an old man, Mr. Lepski.’
There was now a whine in Danny’s voice.
Lepski grinned evilly at him.
You can bet your rotten old life that I would and will. Now, are you singing or do I get busy?’
Danny knew when he was beaten. He sat back, his eyes defeated.
‘What do you want to know?’
Lepski nodded approvingly.
‘That’s my fella. I knew you’d get smart. Baldy came to see you, didn’t he?’
‘If I tell you, Mr. Lepski, will you leave those two girls alone?’
‘Sure... why should I bother with them? I’ll leave you alone too, Danny... can’t be fairer than that, can I?’
‘Yes, he came here. First, he went to Solo, but Solo wouldn’t help him, so he came to me. He wanted to borrow five hundred dollars.’
‘Why?’
‘He said he wanted to hire a boat. I hadn’t five hundred dollars so he had to do without his boat.’
‘Why did he want a boat?’
Danny hesitated, then seeing Lepski was getting impatient, he said, ‘He told me he had to get to Cuba.’
Lepski stared at him.
‘Cuba? Why the hell didn’t he hijack a plane? Everyone is doing it now, and what the hell did he want to go to Cuba for?’
‘He was taking stuff with him. He’s a Castro fan.’
‘Stuff... what do you mean... stuff?’
‘I don’t know, but he had to have a boat so I guess it was something pretty big and heavy.’ Danny paused, then went on, ‘He was frightened, Mr. Lepski: really frightened. Just looking at him scared me.’
‘What do you mean... he’s a Castro fan?’
‘Didn’t you know? Baldy is a rabid Commie. He thinks Castro is the greatest man who ever lived.’
Lepski snorted.
‘What was this job he pulled in Vero Beach, Danny?’
‘I don’t know. I heard things, but that means nothing. All I do know it was something big.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘Rumours. They said Baldy was onto the biggest deal of his life.’
‘Who said?’
Danny waved his hands vaguely.
‘You know how it is, Mr. Lepski. You stand in a bar and you hear talk. You run into the small men and they talk.’
‘And they’re saying Baldy’s dead, aren’t they?’
Danny nodded. ‘That’s right, but it doesn’t mean anything. He could be alive.’
‘No, I guess he’s dead,’ Lepski said firmly. ‘Who killed him, Danny?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’m not even convinced he is dead.’
Lepski believed him.
‘Baldy was a vain bastard,’ he said. He always covered his bald pate with a wig. That tells me he had an eye for the girls. Who is his present doll, Danny?’
‘I was never close enough to him to talk about his women, Mr. Lepski,’ Danny said, but by the way he blinked, Lepski knew he was lying.
‘I’ll ask that question once again, then those two whores of yours will be in the tank by this afternoon. Who was his girlfriend?’
Danny licked his dry lips, then again made a little gesture of defeat.
‘I heard her name was Mai Langley.’
‘Who is she... where does she hang out?’
‘I don’t know.’
This time Lepski knew Danny was speaking the truth.
‘Gimme the telephone book.’
Danny got up and walked over to his desk. He found a dog-eared telephone book and handed it to Lepski.
It took Lepski only a few seconds to locate Mai Langley. Her address was 1556b Seaview Boulevard, Seacombe.
‘Okay, Danny. Keep your mouth shut, and if I were you, I’d cut out this Sunday night caper. It could get you a lapful of the Vice Squad.’
Lepski left the apartment and ran down the stairs, taking two at the time.
Danny waited for a moment, then he went silently to the door and leaned over the bannister rail, watching Lepski as he rushed down the stairs. He returned to his room, shut the door, then checked Mai Langley’s telephone number. He dialled the number, thinking it was only fair to give her an anonymous tip-off.
The bell rang for some minutes before he decided she wasn’t in.
Captain of Police Frank Terrell, a big man with sandy hair, with white streaks in it and a jutting aggressive jaw, strode into the Detectives’ room and looked around.
Beigler was talking on the telephone. Jacoby was hammering at his typewriter. Fred Hess, in charge of Homicide, short, fat and shrewd, was checking through a report he had just written.
The three men looked up as Terrell closed the door.
Beigler said, ‘The Chief’s here now. Yeah, I’ll tell him. He’ll be here for the next hour,’ and he hung up.
As Terrell moved to his small office, he said, ‘Joe and Fred, come on in. Max, you take care of the desk. Where’s Lepski?’
‘Talking to Danny O’Brien,’ Beigler said, following Hess into Terrell’s office. ‘Should be here any time now.’
Terrell sat down.
‘Charley bringing coffee?’
Like Beigler, Terrell found serious thinking hard without coffee.
‘He’s coming,’ Beigler said as the door opened and Charley Tanner, the desk sergeant of the Charge room, came in with three cartons of coffee which he set on the desk.
‘Thanks, Charley,’ Terrell said, and when Tanner had left, he looked at Hess. ‘Well, Fred?’
‘It’s the car Baldy hired all right,’ Hess said. ‘Miami got the Hertz man from Vero Beach to identify it. The Lab boys are working on it now.’
‘Chief Franklin said he would phone a report any moment now,’ Beigler put in.
Terrell nodded.
‘Lepski?’
‘He thought it might pay off to talk to O’Brien,’ Beigler said and grinned. ‘He’s bursting with ideas.’
Terrell puffed at his pipe, frowning.
‘All this talk about Baldy pulling a big one,’ he said, looking at Hess. ‘Do you think it means anything?’