The Long Wait Read online

  I hit him with the question so fast he choked over a curse. When he got his voice back it was soft with amazement. “You should have been a cop. Sure as hell you should have been a cop. You can smell out the damndest things.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Lenny paid fifty grand for that contract. It was supposed to be a hush-hush deal but it got noised around. That’s too much cash to hand out for a chunk of sex so I checked on it. The guy who held the contract sold it for five.”

  “That leaves forty-five G’s to go, kid.”

  “I know. Most of it was deposited to the account of Troy Avalard a few days later.”

  “She sure must have a lot to offer,” I said. “Maybe I better look in on her again.”

  “Damn it, Johnny, you...”

  “Logan,” I laughed, “you ought to see her with an ice cube. It’s really something.”

  I hung up while he was sputtering into the receiver and got back out on the street again. I kept wondering whether two hundred grand was worth a double try for a kill and decided that it was well worth it if the guy you were trying to kill was important enough.

  About two blocks over I picked up a cruising cab and climbed in the back without giving the driver any kind of a chance to get a look at me. I said, “Pontiel Road. Drop me off on the corner.”

  “Right, Jack.”

  He looked like the kind of cabby who liked to gab, so I turned on the radio that was built into the side and picked up a network news commentator who did all the talking for the both of us.

  I got out on the corner of Pontiel Road, paid off the cab and started walking. It was a long walk. The road started off as a residential street, kept on going with more and more spaces between the houses, passed a few acres of empty lots, wound into a wooded grove and came out in a gentle upgrade where a few more houses were in the early construction stage.

  The white house on the crest of the hill had the choicest location of all. Evidently it had been built some time ago with an eye to the future, the builder expecting an expansion of the suburb in this direction. You could look down and see the whole city at a glance, yet be far enough away to enjoy some of the advantages of the country.

  I walked up the flagstone path, took the steps to the porch that had 4014 in brass numbers tacked over W. Miller and looked around for a flowerpot. It was in back of the pillar and the key was there where Wendy said it would be.

  There was an amber night light in the foyer that was enough to show me the stairs. I went up, found the bathroom with the light switch beside the door jamb, stripped off my clothes and climbed into the shower. The patch on my head got wet, so I took it off after I dried down and made a new one out of the bandage and tape in the closet, then hung my clothes up in the closet.

  There were two doors leading off the bathroom. I opened one and it smelled of perfume and powder like every other woman’s bedroom in the civilized world, so I closed it softly and tried the other. That was better.

  I tossed the towel in the hamper, walked over to the window and opened it and stood there breathing in the fresh air. The moon was just coming up behind the town, a mellow, peaceful moon all red around the edges.

  A benevolent moon, I thought, smiling down on a malevolent city.

  I let it douse me with its yellow light a minute longer, grinned back at it, then felt around for the bed and perched on the edge for a last cigarette. The breeze felt good on my bare skin, cool and comfortable. I stuck the butt in my mouth and snapped the match on the folder.

  Her voice was a gentle whisper coming out of the darkness. “You look nice without anything on, Johnny.”

  The match froze there in my fingers, dropped and went out on the floor. But not before I saw her on the other side of the bed, her body a naked splash of white before it dipped under the covers.

  My benevolent moon smiled again and its light made a play of shadows over the firm sweep of her breasts, wavering gently with her breathing.

  “Sorry, kid,” I said hoarsely, “I ... thought ... this room was ... empty.”

  She stretched her arms out in a lithe, lazy motion, her mouth a dark oval that barely moved. It usually is, Johnny.”

  I would have left, but her hand reached out and touched me, the tips of her fingers inviting little feathers against my skin and there was something animal-like in the way she moved under the covers.

  Then she was all animal and so was I, a warm, fragrant animal who made whimpering noises until I stopped her with my mouth and who clawed and clung in a mad frenzy of motion until her breath hung in her throat and it was over.

  She was still asleep when I got up in the morning, curled up on her side with her face buried against my shoulder. I tucked the cover under her chin, got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. I had the coffee done and breakfast on the stove when I heard her come through the door. Her hair looked like yellow hay blowing in a wind, her mouth a scarlet smile that said, “Good morning.”

  She was wrapped up in a red quilted housecoat that didn’t hide a thing. “Nice,” I grinned, “very, very nice. Sit down and eat.”

  Wendy pulled out a chair with her toe and parked. “I wanted to make breakfast, Johnny.”

  “You were domestic enough last night, girl. Besides, I’m in a hurry.”

  Her eyes were curious. “Going somewhere?”

  “Yeah. I’m going looking for the somebody who wants me dead.”

  Her eyebrows made two little arcs.

  “I got taken for a little ride last night. That makes twice they tried.”

  “Who...”

  “I’d like to know that myself. Ever hear of a girl named Vera West?”

  “Why, certainly! Wasn’t she...”

  “The one I was in love with. She worked in the bank,” I finished.

  Wendy frowned and sipped her coffee. “She was Lenny Servo’s girl too.”

  “Uh-huh. And now she’s missing. I want to find that babe.” I tapped a cigarette on the table and lit it. “How easy is it to disappear right here in town?”

  “Not very easy, but it has been done. Do you think she’s here?”

  “Maybe. I heard something about where the girlies wind up in Lyncastle. You know anything about it?”

  “There are ... houses. It is possible, though it doesn’t seem logical. Why would she want to disappear?”

  “That goddamn tart framed me. She...” I stopped in the middle of the sentence. “How good are you at keeping your mouth closed?”

  The coffee cup made a faint clink against the saucer. She read the expression on my face and stiffened. “That isn’t very nice.”

  “I don’t do nice things, Wendy. But I want you to know. I may shoot off my mouth because you and Pop did me a favor, but if you sound off to anybody you’ll never be able to do it again. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Her face was white with anger. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” she snapped.

  “No, I don’t have to, but I can think better when I talk. Listen all you want to, but keep it to yourself. Like I said about Vera West, she told Gardiner I was using a set of books I had no business seeing. She had it all arranged so in case she was caught she’d be able to shove everything on me. Well, that’s just what happened. She was the one pulling the fancy stuff. She was dummying the books and I took the rap for it!”

  “You ... went to the bank?”

  “Yeah, and saw Gardiner. He’s going to look for her too.”

  “You’re sure about this?” she asked seriously.

  “As sure as I can be without any proof. If I knew more about how the hell a bank runs its books I could have put the questions right.”

  The eyebrows went up again. Higher this time. “But you ...”

  “I never worked in a bank,” I said, “because I’m not Johnny McBride. You’re the second person I’ve told this to and you’re going to be the last, but Johnny McBride is dead. I’m just a guy who looks like him.”

  I gave it to her with as few words a
s possible and she sat there with her mouth open trying to absorb it all. I motioned to her to eat while she was listening and finished about the same time she did.

  She took the cigarette I offered her, dragged in a light and let the smoke curl out with her words. “It’s incredible, really. Nobody has thought different so far?”

  “Not so I’d notice. I’m going to play the game right up to the hilt until I find out why Johnny left like he did. If you’re wondering why I bothered telling you all this it’s because I’m going to need you.”

  “And Nick ... are you going to tell him?”

  “No. Pop’s okay, but he’s too old to help me much. I’m glad he picked me up when he did and he’s got my thanks.”

  “You’d better stop calling him ‘Pop.’ He hates that. You’re supposed to know him well enough to know what he’s called.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “What do you want me to do, Johnny? I mean...”

  “Keep it Johnny. I want you to help me find Vera West. Women are good at asking questions right. Try the gang that comes through your place.”

  “But they’re all from out of town.”

  “That’s all right. She may not be in Lyncastle. If she changed her name she’s probably still using the same initials ... like Veronica Waverly or something. Put out a few feelers with your friends, but cook up a good story to go with it in case they start asking questions.”

  I pushed my plate back and got up.

  “All right, Johnny. And you can take my car if you want to. I’ll use the old one. It’s in the garage.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that. Don’t wait up for me,” I grinned.

  “You’ll be back?”

  I looked her up and down slowly. “What else?”

  Her eyes half closed and she tilted her head up. “Kiss?” “Uh-uh. I wouldn’t think of spoiling your paint job.”

  “Rat.”

  “Ain’t I?”

  She stuck her tongue out at me.

  Wendy was a pretty head, all right. A little on the hard side when you looked close and the make-up didn’t take away the brittle lines that were etched in the corner of her mouth and eyes. She was a million bucks in a green dress under artificial lights and two million in bed. A dime a dozen in the daytime though.

  I told her so-long and went out to the garage.

  The car was a black Ford coupé in good condition parked alongside a decrepit Model A that probably had made a reputation for itself in college ten years ago. Some of the witty sayings still showed through the finish and there were coon tails hanging from the chrome guides on the fenders.

  I backed out to the street, drove down Pontiel Road and cut over toward the center of town. At a candy store I stopped and picked up a copy of the Lyncastle News, then sat in the car to see what it had to say. It said plenty. Page one had a big splash of the cops hauling a pair of bodies from the quarry under the spotlights from a police car. The story was that an anonymous tip to the News brought out the police who recovered the bodies and made an immediate identification. The men were a pair of medium-sized hoods whose activities were usually centered around Chicago. One was wanted for parole violation and the other was wanted for questioning in a series of stick-ups in Florida.

  Lindsey made the statement that it was undoubtedly a revenge killing by some gang outside the state and hoped for an early arrest. Apparently the cops and the reporters on the scene had messed up any extra footprints or car tracks because nothing was said.

  Buried on page four was a squib mentioning the fact some joker had stolen a car, taken it for a joy ride and abandoned it in front of police headquarters.

  When I closed the paper I dug a nickel out of my pocket and went back into the candy store, looked up the number of the Hathaway House and dialed it. I asked for Jack, heard the desk clerk hit the bell a few times, then got my party.

  I said, “This is Johnny McBride, Jack. Can you take a few minutes off and meet me somewhere?”

  His voice was guarded. “Certainly, sir. Topps’ Bar and Grill you say? In fifteen minutes. Yessir.”

  I told him fine and hung up. Topps’ was about six blocks from the hotel and I made it before he did. I took a table in the back, asked for coffee and waited. A couple minutes later he came in, saw me and came back to the table.

  “Hi ya, Mr. McBride.” He sat down across from me and I signaled for another coffee.

  “My room still empty?”

  “Sure. You had a couple calls to see if you were in last night and this morning. Didn’t leave their names though.”

  “Anybody staked out around the lobby?”

  He screwed his face up. “Not now. Some character was there most of the night. I kind of thought it was a new dick.”

  I peeled off two tens and a five from my roll and tossed them across the table. “When you get back pay for my room and check me out. I left a suitcase with some old clothes in it under the bed. Throw that in the ash can. I won’t be going back to the hotel.”

  “You got trouble?”

  “Plenty. I’m not well liked around here.”

  Jack grinned broadly. “Yeah, I asked about that. What’s the story?”

  “Don’t believe what you hear,” I said.

  “You got framed, eh?”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Coming back. If you pulled that bank job you’d still be a thousand miles from here. Whatcha want with me?”

  The waiter came with the coffee and I waited until he was back at the other end of the room before I said, “Not meaning to be impolite, but since you do a little pimping on the side you might know something I need.”

  “If it’s about dames, sure.”

  “Ever hear of Vera West.”

  He let out a low whistle. “You’re working the top brackets now, ain’t you, Johnny? She’s one of Servo’s ex’s.”

  “Where is she now?”

  His eyes lost that young look. “Seems like a lot of people are looking for her.”

  “Who?”

  “Just people. A pair of chicks I have on call both were tapped with the same question. They didn’t know.”

  “Do you know?”

  He dumped milk and sugar in his coffee and stirred the concoction around slowly. “I only saw her once after Servo dumped her. She was just getting off the night train and she was carrying a suitcase. I remember that she looked pretty upset or something. Anyway, one of Servo’s boys happened to be in the station putting some tomato on the train and when she saw him she ran like hell for a cab. I never saw her again after that.”

  “Which way was the train going?”

  “It was the incoming train, the express that comes in from Chicago to the state capitol, turns south and goes through here down to Knoxville.”

  “I see. Who was the guy she saw?”

  “Eddie Packman. He’s a right-hand man to Lenny Servo nowadays. Thinks he’s big stuff. Hell, before he hit Lyncastle he was small potatoes. He gimme a hard time in a poolroom one day and I beat his ears off. I wouldn’t try it now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because now I’m small potatoes and he’s Servo’s boy,” he grinned.

  “So you think Vera West left town, is that it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think anything. I remember seeing her last coming into town and remember that she and Servo split up right around that time, but I never had any reason to think about her. Maybe she’s right here in town.”

  “The last time you saw her, what did she look like?”

  “Scared.”

  “Describe her.”

  “Well,” he squinted in thought, “she was usually half in the bag, and this time she had a beaut of a hangover. Her eyes were red. She sure had pretty hair. Used to keep it in a page boy, you know, down around her shoulders curling up inside on the edges. Like gold. Outside that she was medium. Guess you’d say a nice build. I never looked too close.”

  “Okay,” I said, “now supp
ose she never did leave town. Where could she hide out?”

  “Well, for one thing, all she had to do was dye her hair red or brown or something and that’d help. There’s places she could work like the laundry and rooming houses she could live in. If she didn’t move around too much she could stay under cover. I know a couple of kids who were hot, one with the feds, and they stayed right here in town while they did some job of searching, but they got away with it.”

  “I see. One more thing. Why did she break with Servo?”

  Jack looked a little pained. “You ask the damnedest questions.”

  “You know?”

  “I got a good memory and a good imagination. I put two and two together, see? If you’re going out and mess around with Servo and my name gets mentioned, me and Lyncastle will have to part company and I like it here.”

  “Nuts,” I said, “you won’t get involved in anything.”

  “Okay, then I’ll tell you what I think. It ain’t what I know, remember that. Lenny Servo’s got a way with the broads. He treats ‘em nice so long as they treat him nice, but he don’t like any one of ’em around too long. Now I know a couple others he brushed off and they didn’t like it. Life was too nice while Lenny paid for it so they put the squeeze on him. Hell, they musta seen it coming and worked up a little insurance. Anyway, they don’t know what Lenny won’t squeeze. He gives them the business the hard way and they scram. No fooling around. Not if they want to keep their own teeth and noses. You get the idea?”

  “Yeah, I get it. So where would somebody like Vera go ... working the houses?”

  His shoulders shrugged unconcernedly. “That’s as likely as anything else. She’s a tramp, she stops giving it away and starts selling it.”

  “Servo got anything to do with those houses?”

  “Naw, this is Lyncastle, not New York. They’re on their own, pay off the cops regular and let it go at that. Hell, with all the free stuff coming through here who’s going to play around in those bug mills? Me, I got some fancy women working. I catch the legitimate traveling trade, but the houses don’t get anything but the low-down stuff.”

  “Do I need an introduction to get into ’em?”

  Jack grinned, finished his coffee and set the cup down. “Go to 107 Elm Street. Tell the bag in charge I sent you. You’ll get in.” He grinned again. “You oughta let me fix you up instead.”