Ed Lacy - Strip For Violence

Then we worked on a hold I was specializing on—use it to get my Second Degree Belt. This was a variation of the overhead throw, where you sit down, pulling your opponent with you, your legs kicking into his gut, sending him sailing over your head. Only now I suddenly let go of his shirt or coat, got a neck grip. If I held on to his neck right, the force of his own body going over would snap the neck.

After we'd worked out in slow motion Prof. Amatu said, “Now you work with dummy-man—this much too dangerous.”

I worked with a full-sized dummy and the old man watched, said, “Very good, very fast.”

“And frustrating as hell. I'm curious to see if this will really work.”

He said softly, “Never be curious about death, my student. I pray you will never have need of this hold.”

“Sure but... seems silly to perfect something and never use it.”

“No, a weapon is a force in itself, without ever being put into use. A gun need never be fired to be an effective force. Remember, knowledge is the greatest weapon of all.”

I didn't feel up to hearing a lot of philosophical cracks, so I showered and went back to the office. Bobo said Shirley was out to lunch. I hardly touched my can to my desk chair when the phone rang. A man's voice obviously disguised, said, “Darling?”

“Yeah, this is Hal Darling.”

“You've lost your girl, your business. When you going to smarten up, play ball?” There was the click of the guy hanging up.

Bobo said, “Sure a short call. Who was it?”

“Wish I knew. Some punk telling me to play ball.”

“Jeez, Hal, what's going on here? Anita killed, office looking like a wastebasket, jobs called off and... Hal, you working with the cops? I mean, don't try to play badge like Anita was...”

“Can it, Bobo. Sure I'm working with the cops, but... I also am doing everything I can, too. As for the rest of this puzzle, your guess is probably better than mine.” I took out a scratch pad, wrote down the name of every person I'd seen or heard about yesterday, today. It sometimes stirs your brain, but now it didn't do a thing. Will Johnson's name popped up three times, “Cat” Franklin was down twice, seeing him at the club last night, being in his bar this morning... but it didn't mean anything.

As I was playing around with names, the phone rang and I motioned for Bobo to grab the extension on Shirley's desk as I picked up my receiver. A man said, “This the Darling agency?”

It wasn't the voice that called before. “Yeah, Hal Darling speaking.”

“I'm Edmund Winn, Mr. Darling, manager of the Light Fantastic. Would you be interested in bidding for the police concession in our hall?”

“What? I sure would!” The Light Fantastic was the biggest dance hall in the city, used two dozen guards every night.

“I've heard of your good work, am favorably impressed. If you'll kindly send me your bid today, I'll give you my decision in a day or so.”

“Be in the mails within an hour.”

“Splendid. Good day.”

I hung up. Bobo yelled, “What is this? They usually hire the big outfits like Pinkertons, Burns. What a break this can be for us!”

“First my business is taken away, then I get the biggest deal of my career. Somebody is playing cat and mouse with us, and I have a strong hunch who the cat is. Franklin own the Light Fantastic?”

“Everybody knows that.”

“Wanted to be sure.” This was the third time the 'Cat's' name had come up in less than twenty-four hours. It was two-fourteen. “Bobo, ask around, find out where Franklin's office is. Going to pay him a visit.”

“That smart move, Hal?”

“I got to stop this running in circles. Get going, I have to wait here till three—the postman is coming.”

“What postman?” Bobo asked, getting his cap.

“Some... eh... crummy case we got in yesterday. Be back by three-thirty.” I was really playing this too close to the cuff, not telling Salts; or even Bobo about the rock.

6

When Shirley returned, I sent off the bid to the Light Fantastic, then showed her the forms for checking our nightly patrol service—so far no storekeeper had canceled that—and the rest of the office routine. She was good, caught on fast.

Bobo returned at three, said the “Cat” had offices under the name of the City Amusement Agency over on Fifth Avenue and 43rd Street. I waited till three-thirty, called Will's house. Thelma said, “Oh my, Mr. Darling, he must have been so excited he forgot to call you. Will's rehearsing!”

“He's what?”

“It's all so wonderful—he was picked this afternoon for a TV program! Out of all the people in New York, they picked my Will. You know, the postman, the forgotten man, and all that And he gets a hundred dollars and...”

“He be home for supper?”

“Oh no, he'll be their guest for supper and...”

“Damn it, this is serious. I must see him. Soon as you hear from him, tell him to call my office at once.”

“You mean you've found something about the stone?”

“Not a damn thing!” I said, dropping the receiver in its cradle.

Bobo said, “How not to win friends and influence clients!”

“Got to stop blowing my top. Come on, let's see the big shot.”

“Maybe I'd better stay here.... I mean, never know what will come up, who'll pay us a visit?”

“Shirley will be okay. Whatever they were looking for, they know it isn't here. And we'll return soon.” But Shirley worried me, we weren't playing with kids in this deal. I told her, “On second thought, best you lock up now, call it a day.”

“I'm not afraid to...” she began.

“Bobo is right. See you tomorrow morning.”

“Suppose this mailman calls?” Bobo asked. “I'd better stay here and...”

“What's wrong with you, Franklin got something on you?”

“Naw, ain't that,” Bobo said, fingering his suit. “I look kind of shabby and...”

“So what?” I asked as Shirley got her hat and I set the lock on the door. We walked her to the subway, then kept on walking toward Fifth Avenue. Bobo puzzled me, seemed frightened. After a few minutes he said, “Hal, Franklin's bodyguard is... is Lefty Wilson.”

“The champ who kayoed you? Thought I'd seen him before.”

“I... eh... just as soon not see him. There was a mess about the rematch, lot of bad feeling.”

“I remember now, your manager held out for 40 per cent of the gate and the whole deal went up in hot air. Shame, would have been a two hundred grand gate at least.”

“Biggest payday in my career. Some managers, you know how greedy they are,” Bobo said. Suddenly he stopped walking and when I turned, he said, “Hal, that's all a lie. I run out on Lefty. I was scared shitless of him!”

“Scared? What you talking about?” I asked, as we started walking slowly again.

“Hard to explain,” Bobo said, his voice shaking a bit. He ran his hand over his worried, tan face, wiped the sweat away. “I wasn't a kid, had over a hundred fights before I met Lefty. My face shows I wasn't punch-shy.”

“Heard you were out front when Wilson tagged you. That must have been a tough one to lose.”

Bobo nodded. “Yeah, southpaws never bothered me much. I was reaching him with my right plenty... it was the best feeling in my life, trying to decide whether to win the title by a kayo, or be careful and win by a decision. Then in the eighth round he slammed one into my guts. Honest to God, Hal, I thought his damn fist was going clean through my stomach, come out my back. Why I was pissing blood for days after. The blow stunned me and then he crossed that left hook of his to my jaw and I went down for the count. That was it.”

“Every pug gets hit by a lucky punch, so why all the fuss?”