Vengeance Is Mine

I left the door open and went back to the foyer, the little watchman blubbering behind me. After I tried a half-dozen combinations in the switchboard I got an outside wire. I said, “Give me the police.” The watchman sat down and trembled while I told the desk man at the precinct station where to look for a body. When I hung up I steered the little guy back to the elevator and made him run me down to the basement.

It was just what I had expected. The door that was supposed to have been bolted so tightly to keep people out was swinging wide where a killer had gotten out.

The watchman didn’t want to be left alone, and begged me not to go. I shoved him away and walked up the stairs and around the building.

I knew where the killer was hiding now.

Chapter Thirteen

The snow that had tried so hard to block me wasn’t something to be fought any longer. I leaned back against the cushions of the car in complete relaxation and had the first enjoyable cigarette I’d had in a long time. I sucked the smoke down deep into my lungs and let it go reluctantly. Even the smoke looked pretty as it drifted out the window into the night.

Everything was so white, covering up so much filth. Nature doing its best to hide its own. I drove slowly, carefully, staying in the tracks of the cars ahead. When I turned on the radio I heard my name mentioned on the police broadcast band and turned the dial until I had some late music.

When I reached my destination I backed in between two cars and even went to the trouble of locking the door like any good citizen would who expects to go home and to bed for the rest of the night. There were a few lights on in the apartment building, but whether they came from the one I wanted or not, I couldn’t tell.

I took one last drag on the butt and flipped it into the gutter. It lay there a moment fizzling before it went out. I walked in the lobby and held my finger on the buzzer until the door clicked, then I walked in.

Why hurry? Time had lost its value. My feet took each step carefully, one after the other, bringing me to the top. I walked straight down the hall to the door that stood open and said, “Hello, Juno.”

I didn’t wait for her answer. I brushed right past her and walked inside. I walked through the room and pulled chairs from their corners. I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet doors. I walked into the bathroom and ripped the shower curtain down. I walked into the kitchen and poked around the pantry.

My hands were ready to grab and my feet were ready to kick and my gun was ready to shoot. But nobody was there. The fires began in my feet and licked up my body until they were eating into my brain. Every pain that had been ignored up to this moment gave birth to greater pains that were like teeth gripping my flesh apart. I held the edge of the door and spun around to face her with all that pain and hatred laid bare on my face.

My voice was a deadly hiss. “Where is he, Juno?”

The hurt that spoke to me from her eyes was eloquent. She stood there in a long-sleeved gown, her hands clutching her throat as my madness reached her. “Mike . . .” that was all she could say. Her breasts rose under the gown as her breath caught.

“Where is he, Juno?” I had the Luger in my hand now. My thumb found the hammer and dragged it back.

Her lips, her beautiful lips, quivered and she took a step away from me. One step then another until she was standing in the living room. “You’re hiding him, Juno. He came here. It was the only place the crazy bastard could come. Where is he?”

Ever so slowly she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Oh, please, please, Mike. What have they done to you! Mike . . .”

“I found Connie, Juno. She was in the storeroom. She was dead. I found the files gone. Clyde might have had just enough time to get in and tear those files out after he killed Connie. I found something else, the same thing she found. It was part of a shipping ticket for a television set. That was the set you were supposed to deliver to Jean Trotter, but you knew she wasn’t going to need that so you had it stacked in the storeroom until you could get rid of it. You were the only one who knew it was there . . . until tonight. Did Clyde find it and take it away so you wouldn’t get tied into this?”

Her eyes opened wide, eyes that said it wasn’t true, not any part of it. I didn’t believe them. “Where is he, Juno?” I grabbed the gun up until it pointed at a spot midway between those laughing, youthful breasts under the gown.

“Nobody is here, Mike. You saw that. Please . . .”

“Seven people are dead, Juno. Seven people. In this whole crazy scheme of things you have a part. It’s a beautiful scheme though, hand-tailored to come apart whenever you try to get a look at it. Don’t play games with me, Juno. I know why they were killed and how they were killed. It was trying to guess who killed them that had me going in circles. Your little blackmail cycle would have remained intact. Just one of those seven would have died if I hadn’t been in the room with Wheeler that night. Who knew that I’d do my damndest to break it open?”

She watched me, her hands still at her throat. She shook her head and said, “No, Mike, no!” and her knees trembled so she fought to keep her balance. It was too much. Juno reached out her hand to steady herself, holding the back of a chair. Slowly, gracefully even now, she sat down on the edge of it, her lower lip between her teeth.

I nodded yes, Juno, yes. The gun in my hand was steady. The hatred I had inside me bubbled over into my mouth and spilled out. “I thought it was Anton at first. Then I found a mail receipt to Clyde. Anton had sent him some pictures. The Bowery Inn was a great place to draw the girls. It was designed specifically for that. It got the girls and with them the suckers.

“Who led the girls there in the first place, Juno? Who made it a fad to hang out down there where Clyde could win at his gambling tables and insure his business with photos that gave him the best coverage in the world? Did you do that, Juno? Did Clyde have a crush on you at one time and figure a good way of being able to stay in business? Was it Clyde who saw the possibilities of getting blackmail evidence on the big shots? Or was it you? It wasn’t Anton, for sure. That goon had rocks in his head. But he co-operated, though, didn’t he? He co-operated because he saw a way to purchase all those expensive paintings he had in his place.”

Her eyes were dull things, all the life gone from them. She sat with her head down and sobbed, one hand covering her face.

I spit the words out. “That’s the way it was, all right. It worked fine for a while. Clyde had his protection and he was using it for all he was worth. But you, Juno . . . you wanted to go on with it. It wasn’t so hard to do because money is easy to like. You were the brains of the outfit . . . the thinking brains. Clyde was the strong-arm boy and he had his little army to help him out.”

I stopped and let it sink in. I waited a full minute. “Juno . . .”

She raised her head slowly. Her eyes were red, the mascara streaking her cheeks. “Mike . . can’t you . . .”

“Who killed them all, Juno? Where is he?”

Her hands dropped to her lap, folded across her stomach in despair. I raised the gun. “Juno.” Only her eyes looked at me. “I’m going to shoot you, Juno, then I’m going to go out and get him all by myself. I’m going to shoot you where it will hurt like hell and you won’t die quickly . . . if you don’t tell me. All you have to do is tell me where I can find him and I’ll give him the chance to use his hands on me like he tried to do before and like he did to some of the others. Where is he, Juno?”

She didn’t speak.