William Davis - Blackmailed

"I don't think so… and I'm sure they haven't made contact with her yet!"

"Let's hope not!"

"Should I level with Joan… tell her what's going on?" Arnie asked, worriedly.

"No! Not yet! I'd like to stop it… while it's just a conspiracy… and maybe we could keep it from her, completely!" Jay told him.

"Okay… whatever you say…"

Arnie Pearson left, and Jay stared at the closed door, wondering: I sure as hell hope that I've made the right guess!

p(line).***

Warren Ramsey picked up the third telephone on his desk. Its number was unlisted and known to only a very few people.

"Yes…?" he barked into the mouthpiece.

"Stearns… Warren…" the voice came over the wires to him. "We spotted Pearson!"

"Where?"

"He's talking to a private eye… name of Ballard!"

"Okay! That's good! Now, this's what I want you to do. You got Pratt with you…?"

"Yeah."

"Have him stick to Pearson… find out where he's living now. I figure that wife of his must be here, with him… since they turned up a blank in Omaha!" Ramsey instructed. "… And, tell him to let me know… personally as soon as he's got the address!"

"Right!"

"And, I want you, Jack… to pay a little visit to that private detective! Tell him it's time to bow out… or else!"

"Should I give him something to remember…?" Jack Stearns asked.

"No… just warn him off… but you'll know what to do if he's not going to cooperate…" Ramsey told him.

"Okay… we'll get right on it!" Stearns broke the connection.

p(line).***

Jack Stearns bulldozed his way past Karen Forrester in the outer office and burst into Jay's office, taking him by surprise.

"You Jay Ballard…?" he demanded.

"Yes… what do you want?"

"Arnie Pearson was just here… and I'd like to give you some advice… about what to do on his case!"

"I can always use good advice…" Jay said mildly. "What is it?"

"Nothing! Don't do any more work for him… at all!"

"He's given me a retainer… and I…"

"Give it back!" Stearns grated. "Better yet… maybe you should take a vacation!"

While the other man was talking, Jay made mental notes. He would know this man… any time he saw him again. Medium build… five feet ten or eleven inches tall… 180 pounds… late thirties… wavy blonde hair… brown eyes… scar on his forehead… long, straight nose… heavy lower jaw… long, oval face… and the sound of his voice, all registered in his mind and he would remember.

"I don't have time for vacations!" Jay told him, leaning back in his swivel chair. He was relaxed but alert, waiting for a possible attack. He knew, now, that someone – Ramsey maybe – was worried, so they were trying to scare him off!

"You're not listening very good!" Ramsey's man threatened.

"Come off it, man… I've sat through hundreds of Grade B movies and T.V. whodunnits… where the big, tough guy warns the detective to lay off… and you're playing it worse than any I've ever seen!" Jay said, with a disarming grin. "Now… unless you've got some further business with me… I'd suggest you leave, now!"

Stearns, caught off guard by Jay's unruffled reaction, gaped, staringly, for a moment, then turned to leave, shooting back, lamely, over his shoulder, "Okay… smart-ass… don't say you weren't warned!"

"I'll get it down in my notes!" Jay Ballard returned.

When the unknown bearer of a warning from an equally, as yet, unknown source was gone, the detective heaved a sigh of relief, glad that there had been no violence. But, it was damned close… if I hadn't kidded him out of it!

Intending to go home for dinner, since he'd been so busy for the last two days that he hadn't made it home… until the early hours of the morning, Jay headed for the parking lot. He was worried… not about Arnie's troubles but his own. Hell! Things aren't getting any better… between Betty and me… but if she'd loosen up a little bit and put a little zing into our sex-life… it'd sure help! Maybe, what we need is a good vacation… go off somewhere… relax… and get things ironed out… otherwise… we're headed straight for the divorce court! The hell of it is… Betty's basically… a sexy woman… She's got everything going for her…! And, I love her… but she's not turned on! Christ…! If only…

Jay had almost reached his Mustang and was delving into his jacket pocket for the car's keys, when he became aware of a racing engine behind him. He glanced back to see a car bearing down on him. Instinctively, he jumped out of the way and rolled between two parked cars. The car, a big Pontiac, had just missed him… and as he picked himself up off the asphalt, he knew it was no accident. God damn! That was close… too close! And, it's either a second warning… or the damned guy was really trying to do me in!

He hadn't had time to get a license number… but the face behind the wheel he'd know anywhere. It was the goon who'd burst into his office to give the detective some "advice".

Forgotten was his intention to go home; instead, he drove to police headquarters, where he spent an hour or more poring over mug shots. He found what he was looking for and lodged a formal complaint against: Stearns, John W., also called Jack, one former conviction for armed robbery; an extortion case was dismissed… for lack of evidence. There was a long string of assaults in his record, as well as three busts for bookmaking.

"We don't have anything pending on him… right now," the duty lieutenant told Ballard, then asked, "What happened…?"

"He tried to kill me… with his car, in the parking lot of my office building!" Jay said vehemently.

"Do you know why, Jay?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Jay answered, evasively.

"Okay… well try to pick him up on this!"

After all the details were taken care of… it was too late to drive home, so he drove South, to Newport… picked up a bite to eat at a drive-in and continued his search for Carla Reynolds, whom he was convinced was somehow the key to the whole situation.

p(line).***

It was around midnight when Jay hit pay-dirt. He found a bartender in a plush bar who knew Carla, and a five dollar bill was enough to get him her telephone number. The rest was easy. He located the apartment building, checked it and found her apartment empty.

Settling down to wait and watch, he was determined to see her… and get information from her one way or the other.

A little after one in the morning, Carla arrived… with a man. Hell! She's picked up an all night trick!

He made for the nearest pay telephone and dialed her number, sure that she would answer… if things weren't too far along.

"Hello… Carla Baby!" he said, slurring his words, purposely, "I'm here… all primed… an' ready for some fun!"

"Who is this?" she demanded.

"You don't know me, Baby… I'm from out of town… but I heard 'bout you… an…"

"But… what's your name… and what do you want…?"

"Name's Jay… Jay Ballard… and I don't have to tell you what I'm after, Baby!" he slurred. "… An' I got the money to pay for it with… you get me…?"

"It's late… and I…"

"Yeah… I can guess… some other bastard beat me to the punch… for the rest of the night… right…?"

"Well… you know…"

"Kick 'im out… and I'll be right over!"

"No… you don't understand…"

"The hell I don't!"

"… But, maybe we could work something out… for tomorrow…" She hated to let him go… without making some arrangement… for later.

"Tomorrow… afternoon…?" he queried.

"Yes… that'll be Okay… Give me a call…?"

"Sure, Baby… I'll call you… 'cause I've got three more days… and a bad need… for some real fun and games!"