Paul Cain - The Paul Cain Omnibus

Kells stooped and scooped up the gun.

There was a wide double door at one side of the room, leading to a bedroom, and beyond, directly across the bedroom, there was another door leading to a bath. It opened and a very blonde woman stuck her head out. She called: “What’s the matter, Jack?”

Kells could see her reflected indistinctly in one of the mirrors of the wide double door. He and O’Donnell were out of her line of vision.

Rose said: “Nothing, honey.” He tipped the bottle, poured a drink.

“Is Lou here yet?” She raised her voice above the sound of water running in the tub.

“No.” The blonde woman closed the door. O’Donnell sat up and took out a handkerchief and held it over his nose.

Kells said: “Now...” Rose shook his head slowly. “I’ve got about a hundred an’ ten.”

Kells rubbed the corner of one of his eyes with his middle finger. He said: “All right, Jakie. I want you to call the shop, and I want you to say ‘Hello, Frank?’ and if it isn’t Frank I want you to wait till Frank comes to the phone, and then I want you to say ‘Bring three thousand dollars over to the hotel right away.’ Then I want you to hang up. Have you got it?”

Rose picked up the glass and drank. “There isn’t more than four hundred dollars at the store,” he said. “It’s all down on the Joanna — for the opening.”

Kells looked at him steadily for a little while. Then he said, “All right. Get your hat.”

Rose hesitated a moment, looked down at O’Donnell, then walked over to a chair near the bedroom door and picked up his hat.

Kells said: “Now, Jakie, back into the bedroom.” Kells transferred the automatic to his left hand, took hold of the back of O’Donnell’s collar with his right. “Pardon me, Mister O’Donnell,” he said.

He dragged O’Donnell across the floor to the bedroom door — keeping Rose in front of him — across the bedroom floor to the bathroom. He opened the bathroom door, jerked O’Donnell to his feet and shoved him inside. The blonde woman screamed once. Then Kells took the key from the inside of the door, slammed the door, cutting the sound of the blonde woman’s second scream to a thin cry, locked it.

Rose was standing at the foot of one of the twin beds. The dark skin was drawn very tightly over his jaw muscles. He looked very sick.

Kells put the key in his pocket. He grinned, said: “Come on.”

They walked together to the outer door of the suite. Kells lifted one point of his vest, stuck the automatic inside the waistband of his trousers. He let his belt out a notch or so until the gun nestled as comfortably and as securely as possible beneath his ribs. Then he pulled the point of his vest down over the butt. It made only a slight bulge against the narrowness of his waist. He said: “Jakie, have you any idea how fast I can get this tool out, and how well I can use it?”

Rose didn’t say anything. He ran the fingers of one hand down over the left side of his face and looked at the floor.

Kells went on: “I’ve been framed for one caper today and I don’t intend to be framed for another. The next one’ll be bona fide — and I’d just as soon it’d be you, and I’d just as soon it’d be in the lobby of the Biltmore as any place else.” He opened the door and switched out the light. “Let’s go.”

They went down in the elevator, out through the Galleria to Fifth Street and up the south side of the street to Grand. They walked up the steep hill to the car.

Kells said: “You’d better drive Jakie. I haven’t got a license.”

Rose said he didn’t have a license either.

Kells laughed quietly. “You’re in the big city now,” he said.

Rose drove. They went up Grand to Tenth, over Tenth to Main. When they turned into Main, headed south, Kells twisted around in the seat until he was almost facing Rose. Kells’ hands were lying idly in his lap. He said: “Who shot Doc?”

Rose turned his head for a second, smiled sarcastically. “President Hoover.”

Kells licked his lips. “Who shot Doc, Jakie?”

Rose kept his eyes straight ahead. He turned his long chin a fraction of an inch towards Kells, spoke gently, barely moving his mouth: “Perry and the D.A. and all the papers say you did. That’s good enough for me.”

Kells chuckled. He said: “Step on it. Your boyfriend from Kansas City isn’t going to stay locked up forever.” He watched the needle of the speedometer quiver from twenty-five to thirty-five, “That’ll do.” They went out Main to Slauson, east to Truck Boulevard, south. Kells said: “You’re a swell driver, Jakie. You should’ve stayed in the hack racket back in Brooklyn.” He looked at the slowly darkening sky and went on, as if to himself: “There must be a very tricky inside on this play. The rake-off on all the boats together wouldn’t be worth all his finagling — shootings and pineapples and what have you.” He turned slowly, soft-eyed, towards Rose. “What’s it all about?”

Rose was silent. He twisted his lips up at the corners.

They neared the P & O wharf where the Joanna motor launches tied up. Kells said: “You look a lot more comfortable now that you’re getting near the home grounds. But remember, Jakie — one word out of turn, one wrong move, and you get it right in the belly. I’m just dippy enough to do it. I get awfully mad when a goose tries to run out on me.”

They left the car in a parking station, walked down the wharf. It was too early for customers. A few crap and blackjack dealers, waiters, one floor-man, whom Kells knew slightly, were lounging about the small waiting room, waiting for the first boat to leave. They all stopped talking when Kells and Rose went into the waiting room.

The floor-man said, “Hello, boss,” to Rose, nodded to Kells.

Rose said: “Let’s go.”

The man who owned the launches came out of his little office. He said: “Mickey ain’t here yet. He makes the first trip.”

Rose looked away from him, said: “Take us out yourself.”

The man nodded doubtfully, locked the office door and went out towards the small float where the four boats that ran to the Joanna were tied up. The dealers and waiters got up and followed him. The floor-man lingered behind. He acted like he wanted to talk to Rose.

Kells took Rose’s arm. “Let’s go over here a minute, first,” he said.

They crossed the wharf to where one of the Eaglet launches was moored at the foot of a short gangway. A big red-faced man was working on the engine.

Kells called to him: “Has Rainey gone aboard yet?”

The man straightened up, nodded. “He went out about six o’clock.”

Kells said: “You go out now and tell Rainey that Kells sent you. Tell him that I’m going aboard the Joanna to collect some money. Tell him to send some of the boys with you, and you come back and circle around the Joanna until I hail you to pick me up. Got it?”

The red-faced man said: “Yes, sir — but we’re expecting quite a crowd tonight — and one of the boats is out of commission.”

Kells said: “That’s all right. One boat can handle the crowd. This is important.” He grinned at Rose. “Isn’t it, Jakie?”

Rose smiled with his mouth; his eyes were very cold and faraway.

The red-faced man said: “All right, Mister Kells.” He spun the crank, and when the engine was running he put the big steel cover over it, cast off his lines and went to the wheel.

Kells and Rose went across the wharf and down onto the float and aboard the Joanna’s launch. A helper cast off the lines and the launch stood out through the narrows, down the bay.

Darkness came over the water swiftly.

They rounded the breakwater, headed towards a distant twinkling light. One of the dealers talked in a low voice to the man at the wheel; two of the waiters chattered to each other in Italian. The others were silent.