Jay Carroll - Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 4, August 1957 (British Edition)

Then, as I touched it, a thought exploded in my brain, making my head hurt worse than ever. I suddenly remembered Lorio’s bandaged head. He had been sapped on the right side, too. And, since I had been facing my assailant, he’d have had to wield his gun with his left hand.

I picked myself up off the ground, and grabbed the still-open door of the car for support. My legs felt like molasses, and waves of nausea rose from the pit of my stomach. I could hear voices in the darkness, and a wobbly beam of light was just barely discernible from the lights that still danced behind my eyes.

Someone was coming. Perhaps it was one of Lorio’s boys, coming to finish the job. Or perhaps, someone had heard the commotion and was coming to investigate. But whoever it was, I wasn’t quite ready for them to find me.

Another thought struck me. There hadn’t been any commotion, except in my head. I hadn’t let out a peep.

Something icy prickled down my pine. Anita must have screamed, from the top of the stairs.

I snatched my keys from the ignition and crept around the front of the car. I made what I hoped was a silent dash for the dense shrubs which surrounded the building.

The voices and the light got nearer, and I knew they were on the other side of the Mercury. I hoped they couldn’t hear the pounding of my head across the twenty feet that separated us.

I heard one of them mutter an obscenity, and their footsteps scraped off around the end of the building. The stupes thought I had gone back to the club, and, for the moment, I was happy to let them think so.

I was right at the foot of the staircase. It was fairly wide and went straight up the wall of the building to the third floor, like a fire-escape. I grasped the rail to steady myself and climbed up.

The door at the top of the stairway was a solid wood panel. It was bolted tightly from the inside. There wasn’t a chance in the world of my getting it open.

I eased myself back down the stairs and got in my car. I wanted it around the front, where I could get to it in a hurry if I had to. I found a parking place, cut the motor, fumbled in the glove compartment for some Kleenex .

My hand touched the pint of Old Crow I keep there for emergencies, so I unscrewed the top and took a good-sized gulp. It helped to clear my head up a little bit, but it still throbbed abominably.

I daubed at the sticky mess on the side of my head with the Kleenex and hoped it didn’t look too bad. It would have to do until I could get to the men’s room.

I hadn’t bled much, and, fortunately, none had dripped down on my clothes. I was just splashing cold water on my face when the door opened behind me. I turned around and saw Tony Lorio, and he didn’t look too happy. Behind him, were Gorilla-Face and a little guy with bushy eyebrows and a soft, spongy belly. He was holding a gun in his left hand, and the paunch looked just like the one I had hit before I got clipped.

“Okay, Andrews — come along with us,” Lorio said in his clipped voice. “You’re gettin’ too damn nosy.”

“And you’ve got plenty of reason for not wanting anyone to get nosy, haven’t you, Tony?”

He stayed calm. “Besides, you talk too much.”

“I haven’t even begun to talk yet. Why did you frame Ralph Kingston, Tony?”

His black eyes grew even blacker. “That matter is closed, Andrews. You should have left it alone.”

Anger was taking precedence over my better judgment. “Kingston was a friend of mine, Tony. You may be a big shot in this town, but you can’t get away with this. I’m going to see it through to the finish.”

Lorio motioned to the little paunchy guy with the gun. “Take him downstairs, Artie. This guy needs to be taught a lesson.”

The little gun was barely the size of Artie’s fat hand, but it felt big when he nuzzled it up against my back.

“... and don’t you let out a peep, Andrews,” Lorio warned. “Remember, you’re in my territory now.”

I didn’t have much choice in the matter, so I followed Lorio out of the men’s room. Gorilla-Face and Artie were right behind me. I was really in a jam, and I knew it.

We traipsed across the dining room and headed towards the door leading to the kitchen. I knew I didn’t have long to figure out an angle, but my mind refused to work.

And then I saw Tommy. He was pushing his way across the dance floor towards us. I could have kissed him. I saw Lorio scowl and felt the pressure of the gun against my ribs subside.

“Where the hell have you been, Cory? I’m ready to leave.” Then he hesitated, when the full impact of my entourage hit him. “Hey! What’s going on?”

“Is this guy a friend of yours, Tommy?” Lorio said.

“Sure he is. He came out here with me.”

“Then you’d better take him home. And tell him to stay the hell away from my wife.”

I didn’t trust Lorio as far as I could see him, and I knew I hadn’t reached the end of this little affair. As soon as we were gone, he’d have some of his boys out gunning for me.

Tommy Drake wasn’t looking too happy, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him. When we were alone, he said, “You sure put me on the spot with Lorio, Cory. I didn’t like that little piece of by-play a bit. I warned you not to get too chummy with Anita. He’s crazy about that girl.”

“Look, Tommy — before the night is over, I hope to prove something to the police that will give you a nice beat for your paper. Right now, I need your help.”

“You mean, something concerning Anita Lorio?”

“She’s concerned, all right. By the way, do you know who Lorio’s little friend with the paunch is?”

“Sure — that’s Artie Green. He’s one of Lorio’s favourite trouble shooters. Now, look, Cory—”

“You look, Tommy. Right now, I’m trying to figure out how I can stay alive through the night.” I jerked my head around so it was in front of his face, and he could see the cut. “I didn’t get that playing football. For your information, when you came in, Artie had a gun in my back.”

Tommy’s eyes popped. He was a little slow on the take, but once he got it, he could carry the ball pretty fast. “What do you want me to do, Cory?”

I pulled him toward the doorway, and glanced back at the headwaiter, who was scowling at us ominously. “Call Lieutenant Evans at Homicide. Tell him it’s urgent, and to come with some of his men out here right away. Tell him I’m going to blow the Kingston murder sky high — in about ten minutes.”

He was already fishing in his pocket for telephone change. “You’d better give him time to get here first.”

“There isn’t any time left,” I answered. “By the way, have you seen Anita in the last fifteen or twenty minutes?”

“No, not since I left you with her. Hell, Cory...!”

“Look, Tommy — I don’t have time for explanations now. Do you know if there’s a back way to get upstairs to Lorio’s apartment? Inside, I mean.”

“Sure, but it’s through the kitchen.”

“Okay — you make that call, then stick around until Evans gets here. Tell him I’ve gone upstairs.” I tossed my hat and topcoat to him. “Here — watch these for me.”

I left him before he could put up a protest and headed straight for the archway that led to the kitchen. Everyone was busy, and, outside of a couple of waiters gaping at me stupidly, no one tried to stop me.

I found the back stairway and went right up. The door at the top opened into a small service bar which, in turn, opened into the gambling rooms.

It was a sweet setup. There was the usual assortment of roulette, dice and keno tables. An archway at the front led into a room where three card tables were going. The furnishings were lavish, the patrons expensively dressed.