Ed Lacy - Dead End

When we got into the car I asked Doc, “Can they tap all the public phones in the city?”

“Sure, in time. But it would be a big job, take weeks.”

“You think they'll do it?”

“Who knows? This will probably come to a head today or tomorrow. As Bill Smith said, they must have told Wyckoff about getting up the dough.”

“That's where they'll hook themselves. The banks have been warned about giving out so large a bundle, will certainly put in plenty of bait bills.”

Doc shook his head. “You forget that Wyckoff is a big depositor. He has millions. Supposing you were a banker, would you risk losing that kind of customer? Another thing: Some banker may want to do it, think it will get the girl back. There's a dozen other possibilities. The money could be shipped in from a Canadian or Mexican bank. You see, Bucky, we're playing a game here, only Wyckoff isn't playing with us. He's holding a lone hand. Which means there's a good chance he'll get rooked.”

“One good break will bust this case wide open.”

“A good break opens any case. That's what we're hunting for—the break. Well, let me try out these new pictures on my stoolies.”

The crazy thing was, I thought I'd stumbled upon the break a few hours later. I was waiting in a bar for Doc, having a sandwich and reading an article in the paper. Some clergyman called Wyckoff's pleas for the police to stay out of the case “shockingly corrupt,” and added he had children of his own—as if that proved a thing.

The middle-shift barkeep came on duty. He was a clown who claimed he'd once seen me fight as an amateur. I know I wasn't that good, but we were buddies and usually chattered about fights. When I showed him the new snaps he got excited as he pointed to a picture of a potato-faced gal, said, “Bucky, this tomato has been in here!”

“When?” I asked, seeing a promotion coming up.

“Jeez, I don't know. Maybe a year ago, maybe six months.”

“She come in here often?”

“No, just once or twice. Reason I remember is, she was a real potty tomato—you know, two drinks and she's raising hell. Had a kind of twang, or something, to her voice. Oh, I remember her! She was making loud talk, thought she was the queen of the bar, or something. I told her to quiet down, and she stuck her homely face out at me, says to make her. The jerk she was with—his name is on the tip of my tongue—he laughed and told me she was a judo expert. She nearly bent my hand off when I tried to stop her from sitting on the bar and—”

“What's the name of the boy friend?”

“It'll come to me, Bucky. He's a steady customer, a... yeah, Teddy Anderson. He's a mechanic in a truck renting outfit down on Washington Street.”

“When did you last see him?”

“He comes in from time to time, but regularly from time to time. I think he was in a few weeks ago.”

“Do you remember this dame's name?”

“I had some names for her, all right, but I don't recall what her real handle was.”

Her name was Rose Mack and according to the dope on the picture she'd been a former nursemaid for the kid. I didn't know whether to call in on my own or wait for Doc. While I was deciding, Doc showed. He was an old friend of the barkeep and questioned him again, not getting any more than I had.

In the squad car he said, “Bucky, when you wind up as commissioner remember your old pal, Doc.”

“Shouldn't we call in?”

“After we've talked to this Anderson.”

We located him within ten minutes and rushed him up to Bill Smith. And it all turned out to be a dud. He admitted picking up Rose—he never knew her full name—at a skating rink last fall. Yes, Rose had told him she'd been a nursemaid for Joanie Wyckoff, but she was leaving to return to Australia. Teddy said she had boasted about Wyckoff making a pass at her, had “joked” about how she'd like to get her strong hands on some of his money. “She said she would like to get him in a... a...” Teddy was one of these over-handsome men, a dizzy slob in his late thirties, his face running to blubber, and now he gave us a sloppy wink, added, ”... in a... eh... compromising position and then blackmail him. But I don't think she ever did. Although she was a pushover for me.”

“How do you know she didn't?” Lieutenant Smith asked.

“Well, she didn't have any extra change on her, if you know what I mean. When I met her she had already left the job, and was waiting for a boat. She didn't like the job, said the kid, this Joanie, was too smart and spoiled.”

“Why didn't you come forward and tell us all this when you read about the case?”

“I knew she had sailed and—”

“You see her off on the boat?”

“No, but she went for me. If she was around she would have looked me up. And she told me she was due to sail in a few days.”

“Why didn't you tell us about her before?”

Teddy smirked. He had bad teeth. “You know how it is, officer. I got a wife and kids—Hey, this ain't going to make the papers, is it?”

“That depends on how co-operative you are. Anderson, where were you at ten on Monday morning?”

“On the job. I come in at seven and knock off at... You think I did it?” There wasn't any fat smirk on his face now.

“Did Rose ever say anything about the nursery school?”

“Listen, I wouldn't do a lousy thing like take a baby girl. Check my time card. I haven't missed a day in months.”

“Answer my question.”

“I don't know. This was a long time ago.”

Smith glanced up at Doc. “Send the reporters in. And a couple of photographers.”

Teddy twisted in his chair as if it was the hot seat. “Wait a minute, officer. I'm doing all I can to help. I told you I got kids—I wouldn't want this to happen to mine. I'll do anything I can to help get Joanie back. Look, like I told you, this was a pickup. I saw her twice within a week; then she sailed. It was only bar wisecracks and jokes.... Well, come to think of it, she did tell me something about him—her boss—expecting her to do the girl's clothes while she was in this nursery school. Rose thought she should get extra pay for the laundry. That's all.”

Smith, Doc, and a few other guys sweated Teddy for the rest of the afternoon. I checked with the employment agency that got Rose the job. She'd only been in the country for a year. I talked to another couple she'd worked for. They thought she'd been a fine nursemaid, although they had let her go because she'd been a bit rough with their boy in horsing around, and anyway a younger sister of the wife had come to five with them, took care of their child. The Australian police cabled Rose had returned there over seven months ago, was married and hadn't any ideas on the kidnapping. A dozen men checked all of Teddy's movements, his family and friends. And by the end of the day it was all a fat zero.

The letdown really left me pooped. Although Lieutenant Smith complimented me for digging up Teddy, that was that. Doc knew Smith well enough to call him “Bill,” and while we were having supper in a delicatessen across from the station house, Doc stopped complaining about the food long enough to tell me, “Here's some news Bill let me in on. It seems poppa is a bed warmer. He might have made a pass at that pot, Rose. We know he was seeing a high-priced gal.”

“So what? He's a widower.”

“The gal happens to be your old friend Judy,” Doc said softly, smiling at me.

I jumped. “My God, she's greedy enough to be in on a deal like this!”

“I doubt it; she doesn't need money that badly. And they've questioned her; they're sure she's clean. Still holding Judy as a material witness.”

“Why?”

“Same reason they scared that slob Teddy with the reporters. Poppa wouldn't want it known he was seeing a call girl. We may hold it over his head to make him work with us.”