Dan Marlowe - The Fatal Frails

He looked up from the desk as Sally called to him from the switchboard. He crossed the lobby in his soft-footed shuffle and leaned on the little gate between them as Sally's brown eyes inspected him. “What did those men want, Johnny?”

“Well, it's like this, ma. They want to buy somethin' I don't have. They don't know I haven't got it, so I'll sell it to them.”

“It sounds like one of your deals,” she observed. “What are you actually-” She broke off, nodding over his shoulder. “Are you sure your customers haven't filed a complaint already?”

Johnny turned to see Lieutenant Joseph Dameron advancing across the lobby toward them, with Detective Ted Cuneo half a pace behind. The lieutenant's apple-cheeked ruddiness was void of expression, but Ted Cuneo's popeyed stare glinted with anticipatory malice. Johnny felt that he could hear the storm-warning signal flags snapping in the wind. “You changed shifts, Joe?” he greeted the lieutenant blandly. “Or just quit sleepin'?”

Lieutenant Dameron nodded briefly to Sally before addressing Johnny. “Can we talk upstairs?”

“We can talk right here, Joe.”

“I'd like it better upstairs, Johnny.”

“Sorry. I'm on duty.”

“A hell of a lot that ever bothered you!” Quick anger flared in the official voice.

“Well, I guess I got to level with you,” Johnny said apologetically. “I got a blonde waitin' upstairs for my coffee break. She's allergic to gendarmes.”

The frost in the gray eyes hardened to ice. “I said I'd like-”

“Joe, I don't give a damn what you'd like,” Johnny wedged in. “You want to talk? So talk.”

The lieutenant's smile was wintry. “Strictly in character.” His eyes flickered to Sally again before returning to Johnny. “You went out to see Arends yesterday at Empire Freight Forwarding.”

“Wrong,” Johnny told him.

“Don't tell me it's wrong!” Ted Cuneo broke in. “I checked with-”

“The pair of you'd make stinkin' witnesses,” Johnny inserted cuttingly. “No wonder you average about fifty per cent convictions. I went out to Empire. Arends happened to be there.”

Two pinpoints of red dotted Cuneo's sallow complexion. “Watch your mouth, man,” he said dangerously. “I mean it.”

“You're aware of course, Johnny, that the situation has changed since we had our little talk the other evening.” Lieutenant Dameron's tone was level. “A man has been killed. This is a police operation now. You can't go around rooting up indiscriminate stumps with your nose.”

“Show me,” Johnny invited.

“Show you what?” Cuneo demanded aggressively.

Johnny kept his eyes fixed on the lieutenant. “Show me the chapter an' section of the statute that says I can't.”

“Now look, you-” Cuneo growled from the side of his mouth.

“A pretty good jackleg lawyer told me one time people would be surprised as hell to know how limited police powers really were,” Johnny said softly. He leaned back negligently on his elbows on the wooden gate. “He said it's the extra-legal powers they assume to themselves that get them their mileage. An' in trouble, too, sometimes.”

“I've listened to about enough of this damn-”

Johnny straightened suddenly, a leveled finger cutting off the other man. “Let's just simmer down a minute, Joe. You didn't come over here to talk. You came over here to threaten. Go ahead. I won't hold you up again. I want to see if you've got nerve enough to do it in front of a witness.”

“You think you can talk to the lieutenant like that?” Cuneo asked harshly. “I'll show-”

“Ahh, bag it, big-mouth,” Johnny said wearily. He met Dameron's bleak stare head-on. “This is a police operation,” he mimicked. “What the hell's that give you, the governor's emergency powers?”

“You cock your nose just once in the wrong direction on the street,” Cuneo snarled. “Just once-”

“Attempted police intimidation of a citizen,” Johnny remarked over his shoulder. “Take it down, Sally.”

Lieutenant Joseph Dameron looked at his man and jerked his head slightly. The detective hesitated, then turned and stalked to the other side of the lobby, obviously fuming.

“That's the idea, Joe,” Johnny approved. “Never back down in front of the hired help.”

“I don't care a bit for your attitude,” the lieutenant rasped. “Not that I could have expected anything different.”

“But here you are, wastin' your time.”

“So it would seem. Some people have to learn the hard way. Look, Johnny-”

“Ahh, here it comes,” Johnny interrupted. “Act One, Scene Two. Threats didn't work. Here comes the soft soap.” “Nobody threatened you!” Steel rang in the authoritative voice.

“No? What program you tuned in on, Joe? Well, the hell with it. I'm still waitin' to hear whatever it was you came all the way over here to say.”

“I said it!”

“You did?” Johnny grinned at the anger-reddened face. “In all the snappin' an' snarlin' I must've missed it. You care to repeat it?”

“If you think for one minute I can't enforce-”

“Now just a minute.” Johnny could feel the irritation mounting within himself. “You try enforcin' any unwritten laws around me an' I'll guarantee to sicken somebody.” Anger sharpened his tone. “Just why the hell is it nobody's supposed to say 'no' to you bastards? You make a production of runnin' everyone off the grass on a murder case. If only the police work on it, then there's nobody to make you look bad by havin' an intelligent idea once in a while. If you can't do it any other way, you bull people off. Try it with me. Just try it. So long, Joe.”

Twice the lieutenant opened his mouth to speak, and twice he closed it. Eyes smoldering, he spun on his heel. Cuneo caught up to him at the foyer doors, and they went out together.

“I wish you wouldn't do that, Johnny,” Sally said worriedly from behind him. “He's furious.”

“The hell with him,” Johnny grunted. “Maybe it'll stir up his tired blood a little. They get my cork.” He turned from his morose inspection of the foyer doors to smile in over the wooden gate at anxious brown eyes. “Forget 'em, ma. Small potatoes, an' not very many to the hill.”

“But they can do all kinds of things, Johnny. They can-”

“Forget it, ma,” he said again. “I got Joe right under the gun. The next time he comes back to see me, it'll be with his hat in his hand. You don't believe it?” He looked at his watch. “It's late, but he'll probably still be up. Plug yourself in there an' call the Rosario an' ask for Cardinal Lucian Alerini. Tell whoever you get on there that Killain wants to talk to him.” He grinned at Sally's stare. “I'm not kiddin', ma. Go ahead an' call.”

He waited while Sally looked up the number and put the call through. She had to repeat her little speech to four different people in the cardinal's entourage before she finally nodded for Johnny to pick up the house phone. He whistled the first eight bars of Edelweiss into it. “Kiki? Your phone on a switchboard?”

“This hotel phone is, Johnny, but I also have a direct line.”

“Call me here at the Duarte. I'm standin' beside my switchboard.” He hung up, waited for Sally's nod and picked up the receiver again. “You could do me a favor, Kiki. Like callin' up the highest police official you know and expressin' unofficial thanks for the help Dameron's givin' you on a delicate private matter.”

“I see,” the cardinal's resonant voice said after a thoughtful pause. “Yes, I think I do see. Consider it done. Do you feel you're making any progress?”

“I've met half a dozen of Dechant's closest associates. They think I've got somethin' to sell. A couple at least are real anxious to buy. When I run onto someone in the crowd that's peddlin' instead of buyin', I figure I'll have somethin'.”