Roger Torrey - 42 Days For Murder

Wendell pulled his chair over to the desk and reached out his hands for the papers Mard still held. He said: “Let’s get it over with. Where do I sign?”

He sounded sick and sorry.

Crandall leaned across the desk and marked lines with a penciled cross and said: “Here, and here, and here.”

I said: “I guess maybe you’d better talk with the lady first Wendel,” and then called out: “Bring her in, Mac!”

I was watching Joey Free’s face and I didn’t expect the look he put on. It had everything in it. Shock, surprise, bewilderment, and I’m damned if he didn’t look as though he wanted to laugh on top of it all. He stood up there holding his drink and staring at the door.

I swung around and looked and I didn’t blame him. It was more than I expected to see. Macintosh was holding the door open, standing inside the room and looking mean.

Lester and the girl were in the doorway, with Lester slightly ahead. They’d made sure he’d handle her. He had a handcuff on his right wrist and he had his left hand over on the chain and he was pulling the girl into the room. She had one pair of cuffs on her wrists, holding them together, and the other side of Lester’s cuffs were snapped over that chain. He was pulling on her as if she was a balky mule.

But that wasn’t the payoff. She had one handkerchief tied across her mouth and another holding her chin up so she couldn’t open it. She looked like she had the mumps. All she could do was make whimpering noises. She hung back in the doorway, with Lester tugging away and not doing any good by it, and then I saw Kirby’s face show up over her shoulder. Then he shoved her in the back and she came skating into the room.

Wendel shouted: “RUTH!”

I said: “Take the wraps off her puss.”

Crandall stood up and bawled out: “This is an outrage. Are you trying to force this woman in here?”

Barney reached under his coat for his gun and I let him see the one I was holding was pointing at him and said:

“I wouldn’t! Or do as you like!”

He took his hand away from his coat as though he’d burned it there.

Wendell stood up and I stood up at the same time. He started to run toward Lester and the gal and I got him by the shoulder and yanked him back and threw him in his chair. I said: “Stay there, you.”

Crandall said, very loudly: “You can’t force this woman like this. Mrs. Wendel, I’ll take care of this.”

During this time Macintosh had reached over and ripped the handkerchiefs away from her face. She spit out another one, that didn’t look too clean even at that distance, and tried to kick Macintosh in the shins. Her eyes looked like black fire and she was bouncing up and down like a dancing doll. Lester was trying to hold her, but he needed more than cuffs to do it; he needed about a hundred pounds of weight. I could see why they’d tied her to him.

Wendel shouted: “Ruth!” again, and I said: “Will you shut up and stay down? This gal is Madge Giovanatti. She isn’t Ruth. Tell him you’re not Ruth, honey.”

She spoke then. She said to me: “You dirty bastard!”

Crandall said: “Mrs. Wendel! I forbid you to talk.”

I said to Wendel: “Are you satisfied, mister?”

He sat there with his mouth open. I said again: “You satisfied? Her name is Madge Giovanatti. She’s a San Francisco tart.”

She spit out something at me in Italian and “bastard” sounded like a pet name compared to it.

Macintosh said: “I guess this is enough. You’re under arrest, Crandall. And you too, mister.”

This last was to Barney.

Wendel said, in a dazed voice: “This... this isn’t my wife.”

I said: “That’s what I’m telling you.”

I’d been watching Joey Free. He was staring first at the girl, then at me, then at Macintosh and Kirby. All around the room. He was still holding his glass of whisky but he had it up around the level of his chin.

Crandall said: “What am I being arrested for? If this is a fraud, I’m no party to it. Naturally not.”

And then drooped his eyelid in a deliberate wink at the girl.

I said: “Well, that’s only one of the charges. Fraud! There’s murder, too. Attempted murder with me as the victim will be another. And Mr. Macintosh has a few little Stags against you. White slavery and dope and little odds and ends like conspiring to defeat justice. Laugh all that off too.”

Joey Free said: “Well isn’t this something.”

I said: “The same is going against you, Joey. Except the dope and slave charges.”

He said: “What! You’re crazy, Shean!”

I said: “I’m getting sick and tired of being told that I’m crazy. Now listen! The...”

Mard almost screamed: “Look out!” and pointed toward the door, and I started to turn my head. Joey pitched his whiskey, glass and all, into my face then. I went blind for a second and a gun crashed out, sounding like a cannon in the confined space. I didn’t know who it was meant for and didn’t see any reason for sitting in the chair like a turkey at a shoot. I rolled off the chair to the floor and somebody, it must have been Joey, kicked me in the face about the time I landed.

I kept on with the roll, trying to get away from another kick. I was holding my gun in my hand and the next kick caught me a glancing blow across the forearm, but I still kept it. I opened my eyes, saw dimly that Joey was following me up, and reached up and out with the gun and pulled the trigger.

He came down on top of me and it took me a second to shake him off. Not because he was trying to hold me but because he was so heavy. I got up to my knees and faced the door and saw Kirby leaning back against the wall. His shoulders were touching it but his feet were a foot and a half away and he looked as if he was trying out some acrobatic trick. Macintosh had a gun in his hand and just as I saw it he fired. Toward Barney, I thought, though I didn’t turn my head enough to be sure. The bird I’d bopped on the chin in the outside office was standing in the doorway and he shot at me just as I recognized him.

He didn’t miss. Not entirely. I felt something like a hot iron being laid across the side of my neck and then shot back.

I didn’t have time for any fancy stuff and I wanted to stop him quick. Just as the front sight came up to where his dark pants and light shirt made a line I pulled the trigger. He stooped way over, put both hands around his belly, took a step ahead and fell. I knew that this time he was out for good.

Lester and the girl were on the floor. She’d yanked him down there when the thing started, I found out later. I even noticed he’d lost his glasses in the scramble. I looked over at Barney and saw him leaning over the arm of his chair. He was still holding a gun but he didn’t look as though he had any use for it. I kept swinging my head and didn’t see Crandall and decided he was back of his desk. I kept on with the swing until I saw Joey Free, and Joey was flat on his back and dead to the world.

The room was racketing with echoes from the guns and the girl was screaming through the din. Her voice wasn’t so loud but it cut through because it held such fear. She was trying to crawl to the side of the room and she was dragging Lester with her.

Kirby started to slump down to the floor then, and I got the rest of the way to my feet and started toward him. And got halfway there when another man stood in the doorway.

I’d never seen him but I would have known who he was if I’d met him on the street instead of in Crandall’s office. He had Rucci written all over him. The young one, Luigi Rucci, and no mistaking him. He and I shot at the same time but I got up and he didn’t. I took mine through the leg and he took his through the face. His slug didn’t even touch the thigh bone and mine took the whole back of his head away with it.