James Chase - Miss Callaghan Comes to Grief

Carrie opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She shepherded the girls out of the room.

Upstairs, she turned on Sadie. “You’re not to tell that guy you know him,” she said. “Do you understand?

When the time’s right, then you can fix him… not before.”

Sadie didn’t say anything.

Carrie went on: “If you blow the gaff I’ll come after you. I’ll find you okay. Then I’ll do things to you until you wish you were dead. I mean that.”

Sadie flinched away from her and continued to dress. The other girls were puzzled and angry. All their questions were met with a stony stare from Carrie. All she would say was, “He’s the bossask him.”

Downstairs, Raven jerked his head to Lefty. “Come on, we’ve got a lotta houses to look at before we sleep.

These guys will look after the girls. Watch that pippin, Maltz.”

Maltz nodded. “You bet,” he said sourly. “I’ll watch her.”

Raven and Lefty went out and drove away.

Little Joe came up to Maltz. “This racket’s gettin’ interestin’, ain’t it?” he said. “That’s the best bit of striptease I’ve seen for a long time.”

Maltz ignored him.

August 18th, 2.10 a.m.

RAVEN walked into the lobby of the St. Louis Hotel, followed by Little Joe and Lefty. He went immediately to the elevator which took him up to his suite.

Little Joe leant against the wall of the cage, his eyes half closed and a look of tired satisfaction softening the lines of his face. “I ain’t seen so many floosies all at one time in my life,” he said. “Gee! Some of them were hot numbers.”

Lefty shrugged. “So much meat to me,” he said. “I’ve got no use for it when it’s tossed at me like that.”

“Shut up, you two!” Raven said savagely. He had had a trying evening, but the first step of his scheme was successfully launched.

They went into the suite. Maltz was sitting in a large chair, dozing. He started up as they came in.

Raven looked at him hard. “She all right?”

Maltz rubbed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said; “she’s sleepin’ in there.”

Raven nodded and sat down. He tossed his hat on to the table. “Get me a drink, one of you,” he said, lighting a cigarette.

Little Joe went over to the wall cupboard and began to fix drinks.

Raven stretched. “Right now,” he said, “there ain’t a girl hustling in this town.” He said it with great satisfaction. “Over at Franky’s we’ve got a hundred and forty picked hustlers. The rest of the stuff is finished.

Tomorrow we’re calling a meeting of bookers. I’m goin’ to explain what they’ve got to do. In another week we’ll reopen the houses. Then we’ll make money.”

Maltz took a whisky from Little Joe. “What are the bookers supposed to do?”

“They’re goin’ to work for a change,” Raven said grimly. “We’ve got twenty houses. Each house can take thirty hustlers. We’ve got a hundred and forty already. They got to get me four hundred and sixty new girls.

They’ve got to get them fast. I’ve been working this out. We can get girls from Kansas City, Jefferson City, Denver, Springfields, and Cleveland. Once I get these houses started we’ll organize houses in these towns as well. In every case we’re goin’ to secure a monopoly. Hustlers are not to work on the streets. We can’t check on their earnings if they do. This’ll take time. It’s goin’ to be big. The bookers will have to organize themselves and have a clearing−post. This can be at Sedalia. I don’t care how they get the stuff. That’s their look−out. The girls will only stay at one house for a week, then they’ll be moved on to another house. Grantham’s got to do some work. I’m takin’ him out of the 22nd. Any guy can run that joint. Grantham’s got brains, but he’s lazy.

You three guys have got to get busy too. Give me two months and you’ll all be makin’ more dough than you’ll know what to do with.”

Little Joe’s face fell. Actually he was already getting more money than he knew how to spend.

Raven finished his drink and stood up. “Tomorrow you guys beat up the bookers and take them along to Franky’s. We’ll have a general meeting and then I’ll explain to the girls what’s comin’ to them. Get some of the boys. I want the tough ones. Tell ’em to bring clubs. We might have a little trouble with some of those dames.”

The three nodded and left him.

Raven wandered up and down the room, thinking. He knew he would have to play his game very carefully.

It was worth the risks. If he slipped up on the Mann Act he was sunk.

He tossed his cigarette away and went into the bathroom to wash his hands. He didn’t feel like sleep. His brain was too active. Quietly he crossed the room and opened the door of the spare bedroom. His hand reached out and groped for the light switch.

Sadie said out of the darkness, “Who is it?” Her voice sounded husky with fear.

Raven turned on the light.

She sat up, holding the sheet close to her chin. Her eyes looked very dark and big and her face was the colour of chalk.

Raven came and leant over the bedrail. “I want to talk to you,” he said quietly.

There was a long pause, then he went on, “How long have you been hustlin’?”

She didn’t say anything.

He came round and sat on the bed. “If you don’t answer my questions I’ll hurt you,” he said. “How long?”

She looked at the thin face, the cold, merciless eyes and the paper−thin lips. She said, “I was forced into this two months ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t Carrie want me to see you?”

“I don’t know.”

Raven said, “Get out of bed and take that thing off.”

Sadie shook her head wildly. “No…” she said, clinging to the sheet. “Leave me alone.”

“Do it,” Raven said.

“No. You’re not touchin’ me. I’ll screamI’ll scream….”

Raven hit her on the side of her jaw very hard. Her head snapped back and she went limp, falling against the top of the bed with a little thud.

He got off the bed, went into the other room and found some cord. He came back again, stripped off the sheet, turned her over on her face and tied her hands behind her. He turned her again and gagged her with her stockings that hung over the bedrail. Then he fastened her ankles securely to each of the bedposts. By the time he had finished she had recovered from the blow. Her eyes pleaded, but he didn’t look at her.

He went out and came back after a few minutes with a small bottle containing some colourless fluid. He sat down beside her on the bed. “After tonight you’ll do anything that I tell you without hesitation. I ain’t got time to persuade you. I like a dame to obey. You’ll obey after this.”

He took the cork out of the bottle and, bending over her shrinking body, poured the fluid on to her nightdress, low down.

She jerked as the cold fluid ran down her body. A strong smell of turpentine filled the room. Raven got up and replaced the cork. “It’ll take a couple of weeks to get over this,” he said with a little grin. “But I can wait.

I shan’t have to do it again.”

She lay very still, a puzzled look in her eyes. She couldn’t understand why he had done this. She felt nothing, only the cold wetness on her skin. She could understand pain, she could understand beating, but this defeated her.

He made sure that her bonds were tight, testing the knots carefully. He adjusted the gag and then he straightened.

The puzzled look in her eyes suddenly gave way to fear. The fluid began to penetrate. She twisted this way and that as the horrible burning sensation began to grow.

Raven nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, turning out the light, and went away, leaving her writhing in the heavy darkness.