James Chase - Miss Callaghan Comes to Grief

Jay got hold of Lu’s wrists and tried to break his hold, but Lu was too strong for him. Already the pressure on his windpipe was beginning to tell. His head seemed to be expanding like an inflated toy balloon. He drove his fist into Lu’s face. The grip loosened as Lu grunted with the unexpected pain. Jay hit him again and wriggled clear. Lu recognized him then. In that split second of recognition Lu realized that this guy must not escape. Grantham had given instructions to shoot at sight. Now he was here, right in the middle of everything.

He groped for his gun, swearing because it had caught in the lining of his pocket. He jerked feverishly on the handle.

Jay came at him again, his fists hit Lu on the side of his head and face, smashing him to the floor. The gun came away from his pocket.

“No, you don’t,” Jay panted, stamping on Lu’s wrist. The gun dropped on the thick carpet, and Jay kicked it away.

Lu dived after the gun, stooped to grab it, and got a paralysing kick that sent him hurtling down the corridor. He picked himself up and ran. Jay chased him to the end of the corridor, but Lu beat him to it. He fell down the first flight of stairs, and then, picking himself up, he beat it as if hell were at his heels.

Jay dusted himself down and went back to Sadie, who was half sitting up watching with fascinated eyes the steady flow of blood from her arm.

Jay picked her up. “Take it easy, sister,” he said, “I’ll get you out of here.”

He carried her into his room and kicked the door closed. When he put her on the bed he ran back and turned the key in the lock. Then he went into the bathroom, grabbed a couple of small hand−towels, and stopped the bleeding.

She went very white when he took the knife out, but she didn’t faint.

He said, “That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink. Just lie quiet.”

He rang down to Harris. “Listen, bud, I’ve had a little trouble on up my floor,” he said, when Harris came on to the line. “Will you come on up and keep an eye on me?”

Harris said, “What sort of trouble?”

“Now don’t start askin’ questions, come up an’ bring a rod.” He hung up with a grim little smile.

He fixed Sadie a drink from the small flask he always carried around with him, and then went out into the corridor to meet Harris.

Harris came up at a rim. His big face was alight with excitement. “What is it?” he asked.

“If this guy Cruise shows up I want you to tell him that some hood tried to stab his wife. Tell him the cops took both of them down to the station. For God’s sake don’t let him know I’ve got her in this room.”

“I can’t do that,” Harris exploded; “it’ll cost me my job.”

“Do it,” Jay said shortly; “this guy won’t go near the cops, I’m sure of that. If he gets an idea that I’ve got her here he’s goin’ to get very tough. If you do this I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

Harris’s eyes brightened. “Let’s have it,” he said quickly.

Jay gave him the money. “Look, go into his apartment and get that cigarette−case of mine. Snap into it.”

Harris returned in a few minutes, holding the case. “Here it is. Now what?”

“Just hang around the corridor until he comes back. You’d better make a good show or else that guy will do things to you.” Jay left him and went back to Sadie. She was lying on the bed. Although she was still very white, she looked stronger.

Jay locked the door and came over to her. “I’m Jay Ellinger, late of the St. Louis Banner,” he said. “You’re Mrs. Perminger, ain’t you?”

Sadie sat up, once more terrified. “Nono! You’ve made a mistake. I’m Mrs. Cruise,” she said.

Jay sat down on the bed. He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered her one. “Go on,” he said, when she refused. “It’ll steady you.”

She took it nervously, looking at him all the time. Sitting close to her, he could see the ravishes of time and horror stamped on her face. He could see the hard lines, the frightened eyes, and he knew that she’d been through some terrible experiences.

When he had lighted the cigarettes he said, “This is your chance to get out of this mess. I know you’re Mrs.

Perminger. I was talkin’ to your husband a while ago.”

Sadie looked at him, and then her face crumpled. She hastily put up her hands and began to cry.

Jay said, “Take it easy. You’re safe now. Tell me. It’s true, isn’t it?”

She nodded without speaking.

“Now listen, Mrs. Perminger. It’s goin’ to be all right. You’ve got to take me into your confidence. I can guess something of what happened to you but I want the full story. You saw the guy who killed Mendetta, didn’t you?”

She sat up, terrified. “Who told you?” she gasped.

“I guessed that’s how they tricked you to leave your apartment, wasn’t it? That would explain the note you left.”

Sadie nodded. “I saw him coming out of the room. Then a policeman came and made me go away with that man you were fighting with. They took me to a house and kept me there. There was a negress who beat me. I tried and tried to stick it out, but I couldn’t. She beat me every hour of the day. I had to give in.” She sat up and beat her knees with her fists. Her face was twisted with fear and rage. “Do you understand? I wouldn’t do what she wanted me to do. So she kept on and on and on. Every day they tied me to the bed. There was a nigger who stripped me… Do you understand that? She let him put his filthy hands on me. He stood and laughed at me when she beat me. I tried… but I couldn’t stand it any more.” She sobbed again. “What was I to do? There are other girls, decent girls like me. They were brought to the house and men were sent into their rooms. I can still hear their screams. Beasts of men used to pay moneylots of moneyto assault them. They liked them to fight and screamthey paid more and more money if they really fought. It was horrible.”

Jay tapped off the ash from his cigarette. This made him feel bad.

“Then this man Cruise came one day. He inspected all the girls. He took them all away. I don’t know what happened to them. He treated them as if they were cattle. He took me. He brought me here. I was to be his slave. Well, I was crazy. I refused. I told him to get out. So what do you think he did?” Her sobbing was so violent he could hardly hear what she was saying. “He tied me to the bed and hehe poured turpentine over me.

Do you know what that means? He left me lying there all night. I was gagged. I couldn’t move, and it burnt….

Oh. God! How it burnt!”

Jay thought: “Here it is. Right with the lid off. This is the stuff that I want. I can start somethin’ now.” He said to her, “Grantham? Does he come into this?”

She nodded miserably. “He works for Cruise,” she gasped. “He comes here and they talk. I’ve heard things.

They got houses all over the town. They get girls from Denver, from Springfieldseverywhere. Don’t you understand? They’re good girls. They take them from their homes and they make them do this work. Oh, you must stop it! You must stop it!”

Jay patted her hand. “I’ll stop it,” he said grimly. He got up and reached for the phone. “Give me the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” he said.

September 8th, 5 p.m.

GRANTHAM looked round the large room, his face cold and sneering. There were some thirty girls standing around the room. Some of them had on wraps, others just wore knickers and black stockings. They were all looking sullen and were only suppressing their fury because Madam, a big, hard−featured woman, stood behind Grantham.

Grantham said, “You girls’ve got to shake up your ideas. We’ve done badly here this week. I’m going to try a little experiment. Next week you’ll all go on a commission basis. See how you get on with that.” There was a low murmur from the girls. Madam said, “Shut up, you!”