James Chase - Miss Callaghan Comes to Grief

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Banned in the UK! Author and Publisher Fined! Not seen in 70 Years!
This is the story of Miss Callaghan. Not of any particular Miss Callaghan, but of the hundreds of Miss Callaghans who disappear from their homes suddenly and mysteriously and are seen no more by those who knew and loved them.
This is also the story of Raven, who played with clockwork trains, the leader of the White Slave Ring in East St. Louis, who was responsible for the keeping to full strength the army of women for the service of men.
James Hadley Chase needs no introduction now. He has established a reputation for unmitigated toughness and plain writing. Under his blunt treatment, the traffic of women in America is shown to be what it is—a loathsome, corrupt stain on the pages of American history.

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Maltz seemed bewildered. “The cops are in your apartment,” he said. “They took Sadie away. What the hell’s happenin’?”

Raven’s face twisted. “It’s that rat Grantham,” he snarled. “I was crazy to have trusted him. I told him to get rid of Ellinger and he didn’t do it. Now Ellinger’s finished us.”

Little Joe scratched his head. “What do we do now?” he asked. “Shall we beat it out of town?”

Raven shook his head. “Before we go we’ve got to have some dough. We’re goin’ to the St. Louis Hotel an’

collect the dough I’ve got in my apartment.”

Maltz said patiently, “I told you the cops are in there. They’ll have found it by now.”

Raven shook his head. “No guy’s goin’ to open my safe in a few hours. We’ve got to get that dough, Maltz.”

Lefty said, “The G−men will be up there too.”

Raven showed his teeth. “Yeah? What of it? We’ll go up the back way with Thompsons. They won’t have a chance.”

The others looked at each other uneasily. “Those guys can shoot,” Little Joe said nervously.

Raven nodded. “So can we. St. Louis Hotel, Lefty.”

12

September 8th, 6.5 p.m .

CAMPBELL, special agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, smiled at Sadie reassuringly. He sat behind a large desk in a severely furnished office.

“Before you give me your evidence,” he said, “I’ll tell you something about this guy Cruise. For one thing, that’s not his name. Fortunately, Mr. Ellinger obtained a perfect set of prints for us. We’ve had these checked.

They belong to a man whom we know as Raven and who we’ve been looking for for some time. This Raven had a bad criminal record in Chicago. He made things too hot for himself and pulled out. He pulled out in a stolen car and crossed a State line. That gave us a chance of getting after him. We lost sight of him here, although he was reported to have been seen further south. Never mind that. As far as you’re concerned, you’re safe from him. We shall give you special protection, and until he’s rounded up you’ll stay out of town with a special guard. You’re very important to us. Not only can you prove that he was the guy who killed Mendetta, but your testimony on his Slave racket will get him on the other counts we are bringing against him.”

Sadie moved restlessly. “Will it take long?” she asked.

Campbell shrugged. “I don’t think so. We mustn’t underrate this man. He’s clever, and he may still give us the slip, but with your help I think we’ll get him quickly. Can you tell me anything about his habits? Did he like movies, for instance? You see, what we have to do in a case like this is to find out everything we can about a wanted man. They have their own little peculiarities. Some of them are crazy about racing. Sooner or later they’ll appear on a race−track, and we catch them there. You see what I’m getting at?”

Sadie drew a deep breath. “He was crazy about toy trains,” she said.

Campbell lifted his eyebrows. “Now, that’s something.” He made a note on a pad. “I was goin’ to ask about that. We found a big outfit in his rooms.”

Sadie nodded. “When he wasn’t working he used to make me set out the tracks and he’d spend hours playing with the trains.”

“Anything else?”

Sadie shook her head. “No. Just the trains.”

“Did he smoke or drink heavily?”

Again Sadie shook her head. “Just average, I think.”

“You’ve been through a pretty tough time, Mrs. Perminger,” Campbell said quietly. “I hate to remind you of some things, but every little help you can give us will make our task less difficult.”

Sadie said tonelessly, “I understand.”

Taking from his desk drawer a thick portfolio, Campbell selected a large batch of pictures. “Here are photos of girls who have been reported missing during the last three months. I want to see if you can identify any of them. You were in one of the houses for some time and there is a chance that you saw some of them.”

Sadie took the batch and went through them slowly. Campbell watched her thoughtfully. It seemed incredible to him that she should be so cold and calm after what she had been through.

She handed him back about thirty photos. “All these girls were one time or another in my house,” she said.

“Can you explain how this business was worked?” Campbell asked. “Some of these girls came from Springfield, Cleveland, Denver, and such places. Did they come willingly, or how did he get hold of them?”

Sadie shook her head. “It was all horribly simple. He had special men who were always on the look−out for lonely girlsgirls who weren’t happy at home; girls who wanted a good time. They had to be pretty and young. When these men found them they either drugged them and took them by car to Sedalia, which was their clearing−post, or else they invented some story about an accident and got them to come that way. The method differed each time, but it was always a quick, simple plan that was unlikely to arouse suspicions.”

“Sedalia?” Campbell repeated.

Sadie nodded. “Every girl I spoke to had been taken there.”

Campbell reached for his phone and gave some rapid orders. “I’ll get that place looked over immediately,”

he said to Sadie. “When they got them to Sedalia, what happened then?”

Sadie flinched. “Must I talk about that?”

“I know just how you feel, but if we’re to save other girls from this business we must know all about it.”

“From what I heard, the girls were put in separate rooms and left to sleep off the drugs. When they recovered they found themselves in bed with a coloured man. It was always a coloured man. Sometimes it was a Chink, or a nigger, or even a Phillipine. They relied on the psychological shock to lower the girl’s resistance, and in most cases it was successful. Some of the girls refused, of course, and then they would beat them into submission.” Sadie shuddered. “No one knows what that means unless you’ve actually experienced it. To be beaten every hour of the day until your body is swollen and so tender that the weight of a sheet makes you scream in agony. No one can stand that, Mr. Campbell. I don’t care who it is.”

Campbell nodded. “I understand,” he said.

“When Raven took over he had other methods of subduing girls. He poured turpentine over them. That was worse than the beatings.” Sadie put her hand to her eyes. “Mr. Campbell, this man mustn’t get away.”

“He won’t. I promise you that.” Campbell got to his feet. “I think that’ll do for the moment,” he went on.

“I’m sending you out of town to a quiet little place where you can rest. I want to congratulate you on your courage. After the things you’ve told me, it is remarkable that you’ve stood up to it so well.”

Sadie stood looking at him, her face cold and hard. “Do you think I can ever forget?” she said. “My life’s ruined. I can’t go back to my husband. I can’t settle to anything. I want revenge, Mr. Campbell. It may be wicked to say that, but I want to see this Raven suffer as I was made to suffer. Thank God those girls killed Grantham and Eller. If I could do the same to Raven I should die happy.”

Under her glance of cold, malicious hatred Campbell turned uneasily away.

13

September 8th, 6.10 p.m.

LEFTY parked the car just outside the back entrance of the hotel. There was no one about.

Raven got out of the car. His face was very white. “Get the Thompsons out,” he snapped, looking up and down the deserted alley.

Maltz pulled up the back seat and took out three Thompsons. Raven took one and Lefty another.

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