Dell Shannon - Extra Kill

"I thought the name Shorter rang a bell," nodded Mendoza. "I remember."

"I figured out," Pickering broke in, "from a couple of things that bastard, Twelvetrees I mean, said, that he was responsible for that. D'you know whether that was a-so to speak-routine investigation, or if they had anonymous information? Do the police act on that kind of thing?"

"Not my department, but I can find out about the arrest from Vice. Yes, certainly, Vice and Narcotics especially, the anonymous tip often sets the ball rolling. Sometimes it turns out a dud, sometimes not."

"Well, what I think happened was this," she went on. "Twelvetrees knew Shorter, that came out when he approached me with these negs. He said-because naturally I asked how he got them-he said, in a jeering sort of way, not as if he expected to be believed, you know, that Shorter'd had a premonition about being arrested and had handed over had some stuff for safekeeping. But later on he started to say something else, about how he and Shorter had been together inside-and caught himself up. I think he might have been in prison, and met Shorter there. And it's just a guess, but I think Shorter showed him some of his-things-and Twelvetrees recognized me in those pictures, either then or later. He didn't do anything about it because I couldn't do anything for him then, you see? I mean, he wasn't interested in me any other way but-for money. It's a funny thing to say, but when it came to girls to-go around with, well, I gathered from what Netta said-she's in the crowd that knew him best-he was a little nervous of anything from the right side of the tracks. You know? He didn't feel at home with the kind who-oh, likes ballet and cocktails instead of the amusement arcade and beer.”

"Very much in character."

"That I believe," agreed Pickering. "You let me carry on, hon. The way I figure it, Lieutenant, when he heard on the grapevine that it was a serious thing with Marian and me, then he saw how he could do himself some good. Maybe you know he had-time out to laugh-movie ambitions. That-! Well, I think he stole those negs from Shorter and then ‘shopped' him, as our British friends say, before he could find out or retaliate."

“Quite possible."

"Anyway, he showed up at Marian's place-"

"On that Tuesday evening, maybe?" said Mendoza. "Evening, because you'd be at work all day, he couldn't have a private talk with I you. And it wasn't Wednesday because he was elsewhere that night. Or was it Thursday? On Wednesday night he was hinting joyously that some good fortune was coming his way."

"He told someone? My God, he-? Is that how you-?"

"No, he was too canny for that. And while we're clearing up details, how we got onto you was that he had a snapshot of you in his wallet. Why?"

"So that's what happened to it," she said slowly. She sat back, looking angry. "May I have another cigarette, Toby, please… Netta told me he'd asked her for one. She was looking through some she'd just had finished, and he was there and asked if he could have the one of me. She refused, but he must have taken it anyway when her back was turned, she said. I think-maybe he wanted it to check against-those others, to be sure. She said it wasn't a very good one, but it was full-length, and you know people photograph differently sometimes from the way they really-though with those-well, I don't know. And maybe he just stuck it away and forgot it-or more likely kept it as window dressing, he was the kind who liked to have you think he had a raft of girl friends… It was Tuesday he came, Tuesday the twenty-seventh. He had one of the negatives with him, and-and prints of the rest. He-" She broke off, trying to control her shaking voice.

"You take it easy, hon, I'll tell the rest." Pickering lit a fresh cigarette; he looked very angry. "The bastard. I'll tell you how the lyrics went, Lieutenant, if you haven't already guessed. He didn't know quite how it was with us, if you get me. He had it figured that Marian was the hell of a lot more interested in my bank account than in me, and that I could be scared off if I heard all this. As a matter of fact, I knew-she'd told me. He didn't want money-"

"He wanted the nice send-off with a big producer," said Mendoza. "That figures. A heaven-sent opportunity for him, our stage-struck glamour boy! No wonder he went to all the trouble-which, I agree, is likely-of stealing those negatives and getting Shorter put away. And he was thinking ahead too, probably. If you weren't impressed enough to whisk out a contract right away, after you were married he could always do it the hard way, bring pressure to bear on the grounds that you couldn't stand the publicity."

"Ah, that damned little-! Yes, I suppose. Well, anyway, Marian had sense enough to call me, after putting him off on a plea of making up her mind, and I took over from there. He thought he had her scared, had us just where he wanted us.” Pickering laughed, short and ugly. "Money isn't everything, but it sure as hell helps. I hired a couple of the best private detectives in town"-he named the agency-"and we wired Marian's place but good. We really set up the trap-me and two other witnesses in the bedroom, and the tape recorder. He came over swell." He grinned. "One qualification he had for the business, nice clear-cut voice and good diction. We'd coached Marian, of course, and she slipped him enough leading questions that we got the whole layout, his whole plan, in detail. Beautiful. And then she did a little acting and gave in, said she'd do whatever he wanted-only of course we didn't tape that. My God, I'm giving myself away-but you can see the spot we were in, only way to handle it-and besides he'd made me damn mad. I wanted to cuff him down good, so he'd stay that way."

"Very nice, very nice," purred Mendoza. "It's deplorable of me, Mr. Pickering, but I don't think I'll be vindictive enough-or honest enough-to turn you in for all these little legal misdemeanors. I'd probably have done much the same thing myself. I suppose you saw him on Friday, the next day. It was, I assume, on Thursday when you sprung the trap."

"That's right. I saw him Friday morning, as soon as we had legal statements drawn up by the witnesses and so on. We'd set it up-she'd told him to come by about eleven and she'd introduce us, give him a good send-off. And, brother, we did. Marian wasn't there. I told him what we had on him and just how I felt about it, and that, by God, I enjoyed. I told him first, as far as his damn fool ambition for the movies was concerned, he was dead before he started, right now, because in the inconceivable case that anybody ever hired him to sweep a stage I could and would see he got fired-I could blacklist him in this town, in that line, and he knew it. I told him I wouldn't lose one damn thing but a little of my upright reputation if he gave those negs to the Examiner tomorrow, and that sacrifice I wouldn't mind, it was just on Marian's account I'd prefer the whole thing kept private. I always had a kind of admiration for that old bird-was it the Duke of Wellington?-who said Publish and be damned. And I told him I'd take great pleasure in charging him publicly with attempted extortion, and putting in all this nice clear evidence to prove it. And, let's face it, money talks-even to the law. I could have arranged for a trial like that to be held in camera, and protected ourselves that way while he got it in the neck. At that point he began to back down fast, said he'd never dream of doing anything with those negs to embarrass Marian. O.K., fine, says I, and just to guarantee that, we're going with you right now to get them and if you get out of town within twenty-four hours, I'll keep still, I won't lay the charge. But I'll check, and if you're still here, brother, you get everything the law can hand you-and if some damn fool jury lets you off, I've got the money to put you behind a dozen eightballs, other ways. I don't need to tell you he didn't like it-that's an understatement, when he saw I wasn't going to back up a sixteenth of an inch from that stand, he called me every name in the book. But he had to go along, he couldn't do anything else-unless he wanted to get slapped in jail besides losing out everywhere else."