June 5th, midnight.
JAY PUSHED open Henry’s door and strode in. Henry was just going home. He was putting on his hat and admiring himself in the mirror. He looked over his shoulder and scowled at Jay.
“No more tonight,” he said firmly. “Look at the time. I ought to have been home hours ago.”
Jay sat down in the arm−chair and lit a cigarette. “I got something to tell you,” he said; “you’ll be interested.”
“Yeah? Well, I’ve got something to tell you. You can forget about the 22nd Club. Poison’s just been through.”
Jay shook his head. “Oh no,” he said. “I’ve got somethin’ on that Club that’s goin’ to make headlines.”
Henry looked at him keenly. “What is it?” he said.
“Grantham’s mixed up in a Slave Ring. He uses the Club for immoral purposes.”
“You’re crazy. Where did you get that stuff?”
Jay grinned. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “But I’ve got a guy who’s seen and heard things. I’m inclined to believe him. The place wants watching, and maybe we’ll find somethin’ out.”
Henry sat down. “Poison told me to lay off the Club. He’s seen Mendetta and they’ve had a little talk.
Mendetta’s got an interest in the Club, so Poison doesn’t want to do or say anything to upset him.”
Jay sneered. “Maybe Poison doesn’t know about this Slave angle. It’ll make a grand story.”
Henry hesitated and then he reached out for the phone. “Shall I see what he says?”
Jay hesitated, then he shook his head. “Will you come with me and meet this guy first? Once you’ve had a talk with him you’ll understand why I’m interested.”
“What, now?” Henry demanded. “I can’t come now.”
Jay got to his feet. “What’s the matter with you, Chief? This is goin’ to be a big story. We’re right in it on the ground floor. I’ve been waiting a chance to pin somethin’ on Mendetta for the last two years. Slavin’ is a fine club to beat that heel with. Come on, let’s go.”
Henry followed him into the elevator. “You’re goin’ to get somewhere one of these days, Ellinger,” he said.
“I don’t know where, but you’ll get there all right.”
Jay grinned. “I ain’t sentimental, but that guy certainly made me think when he talked about his sister. You gotta daughter, ain’t you? I’ve seen her; she’s cute.”
Henry looked at him from under the brim of his hat. “What’s my daughter got to do with it?”
They walked out of the elevator and crossed the big lobby.
“That’s just it, Chief. You guys with daughters don’t think about the girls who disappear every year. Let me tell you, if I had a daughter I’d never take my eyes off her. I hope I don’t have one.”
They got in a taxi and Ellinger gave Fletcher’s address.
“What are you talking about?” Henry demanded. “What girls disappearing?”
Jay looked at him. “You know as well as I do. We can’t do anythin’ about it so we just say they’ve gone off to get married, or gone to Hollywood or some other excuse. This guy Fletcher is pretty sure that his sister’s been slaved. He thinks Grantham, and that means Mendetta too, is trading women. We know there’s no proof of it, but, by heavens, think what a stink we could make if we got the proof.”
Henry lit a cigar. “All right,” he said, “let’s see how this guy strikes me. If I think there’s anything to it you can go ahead, but Poison will have to give his okay first.”
“Poison will okay it if we can convince him. That’s why I’ve got you to come down now. If you think it’s all right we’ll both go an’ see Poison and give it to him with both barrels.”
The taxi drove up outside the tenement block. There was a large crowd standing around the front door. An ambulance and two police cars were parked on the opposite side of the street.
Jay bundled out of the car. He looked quickly at Henry, and together they ran up the steps. A big cop stepped in their way. “Take it easy,” he said, “you can’t come in here.”
Jay said, “We’re goin’ in, buddy. Meet the Editor−in−Chief of the St. Louis Banner. Big stuff, boy. Where’s your red carpet?”
The cop didn’t move. “Yeah?” he said. “If that old guy’s the Chief of anythin’, then I’m the mother of kittens.”
Jay looked at Henry. “He’s got you there, Chief,” he said with a grin.
Henry said with cold dignity, “What’s going on in here?”
Two plain−clothes men from the Homicide Bureau came down the stairs and made to pass them. Henry knew one of them. “Hey, Bradley, tell this flat−foot who I am. I want to go up!”
Bradley looked at him keenly. “For Pete’s sake, it’s Henry! What are you doin’ here?”
Henry smiled easily. “I was passin’, saw the ambulance, and thought I’d see my man work first hand.”
Bradley shook his head. “It ain’t much,” he said regretfully; “just another shootin’. Still, you can go on up.”
Jay said, “Who is it?”
“Guy named Fletcher. I guess someone owed him a grudge.”
Jay shook his head. “I guess we won’t bother,” he said grimly. “Come on, Chief, that’s small−town stuff.”
They returned to the taxi, and Jay told the driver to go back to the Banner office.
“Does that interest you?” he said quietly. “Grantham must have found out he’d talked to me, so he shut his mouth. This looks like the real thing.”
Henry said doubtfully, “Maybe it was a coincidence.”
“Maybe it was nothing of the sort. It sticks out a mile. Who’d want to shoot a guy like Fletcher? Ask yourself. He was just an out−of−work clerk. No, guys don’t risk killing a poor punk like that unless it’s very important. I’d like you to speak to Poison.”
Henry said, “What are you thinking of doing?”
“I’d like to take this up on the quiet. Keep an eye on the Club, find out what I can, and if I get anything worth while, go for it with two hands.”
Henry relaxed. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll speak to Poison.”
“Let’s go an’ see him now,” Jay said. “The old buzzard won’t be in bed yet.”
Henry groaned. “All right,” he said. “It looks as if I’m not going to get any sleep tonight.”
“You’ll get all the sleep you want after you’ve seen Poison,” Jay said, giving the new address to the taxi−driver.
They had to wait nearly half an hour before Poison would see them. Then he walked into the small reception−room, a heavy scowl on his face and his hands thrust deeply in his trouser pockets.
Poison looked what he was: a millionaire newspaper owner. Hard as nails, a terrific worker, and greedy for dollars. He stared at Henry as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “What do you want?” he snapped. “What is this?”
Henry said respectfully, “This is Ellinger, who’s responsible for crime news. He’s got a little story that I thought would interest you.”
Poison didn’t even bother to look at Jay. He tapped Henry on his chest with a long bony forefinger. “Listen, I pay you to listen to interesting stories, and to print them. I’m far too busy to bother with things like that. Go back to the office, hear his story; if it’s any good, print it, if it isn’t, tell him to go to hell.”
“This story’s about Mendetta and the 22nd Club,” Henry said patiently. “In view of what you said to me this morning, I thought I’d ask you first.”
Poison’s eyes snapped. “I said leave the 22nd Club alone. Leave Mendetta alone. When I say a thing I mean what I say.”
Henry stepped back. “Very well, Mr. Poison,” he said.
Jay said, “Mendetta’s running a vice ring. He’s trading in women. Decent girls are being kidnapped from their homes. I’ve got proof that he is using the Club for this purpose. I want your permission to make an investigation.”
Poison stiffened. His thin hatchet face went white with anger. Without looking at Ellinger, he said to Henry: “I will not discuss this further. I’ve told you our policy. Leave Mendetta alone, and leave the Club alone. If any of your staff disobey our policy, get rid of them. Good night.” He turned on his heel and walked stiffly out of the room.
Henry looked at Jay. “You heard him,” he said.
“I wonder how much Mendetta gave him, the dirty rat−faced heel,” Jay said, picking up his hat. “If he thinks he can stop me he’s made a big mistake.”
Henry looked worried. “You’ve got to leave it alone, Jay,” he said. “Poison’s the big shot.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t spell it that way,” and Jay slammed out of the house.