Black Mask (Vol. 21, No. 8 — November, 1938)
- Автор: Баллард Уиллис Тодхантер, Cave Hugh B.
- Год: 1938
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pro-Distributors Publishing
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Black Mask (Vol. 21, No. 8 — November, 1938)». Краткое содержание книги:
Morgan snarled, “Shut up, you.” He returned to the girl. “You’ve got one last chance. Tell your cousin to talk. We want those guns and we’re going to get them. I ain’t spent ten years collecting them for the fun of the thing. Either tell us where they are, or we’ll see how you like the hot foot.”
Nancy remained mute, rigid in the chair. All eyes were off Lennox for the moment. He slowly raised his leg. With his left hand he pulled up the trouser; with his right he ripped the blue automatic free of the garter.
“O.K., Morgan! The party’s over! You and Chalk-Eyes get over against the wall. You too, Rita. I don’t trust you.”
Morgan spun around, his hand clawing at the front of his coat. The gun in Lennox’ hand jumped, the bullet catching Morgan in the right shoulder. It didn’t put him down, but the shock of it shook his big body. His face was dead-white as his hands came up, shoulder high.
Rita jumped toward Lennox, a little animal cry bursting from her lips. Nancy Hobbs came off the chair, fast, grabbed the girl by one arm and pulled her back out of the way. Frank Hobbs leaped up, holding his cuffed hands helplessly in front of himself.
The chalk-eyed man glared wordlessly at Lennox. Bill told Hobbs, “Get their guns, and be careful.” The flyer obeyed. “Now tie them up,” Bill ordered.
Hobbs swore, “These damned cuffs! I can’t do a thing with them on.”
Rita was fighting desperately in Nancy’s grasp. Hobbs looked at her. “Honey, please?” She spat at him like a cornered cat.
Lennox said, “Snap it up! We don’t have a minute. Someone’ll hear that shot and come pounding up here.”
As if in answer to his words feet hammered down the hall. Lennox stepped back as the door burst open and General Rodriguez bounced into the room.
The General saw Lennox’ gun first. His lemon-yellow face turned a shade toward purple as he stopped; the high heels of his boots digging into the rough boards.
Lennox’ voice was soft. “Good evening, General.”
Rodriguez swore in Spanish. Lennox moved his gun and the General’s mouth closed slowly. With his free hand, the studio trouble shooter went through Rodriguez’ pockets. He found two guns and a wicked-looking knife and his tight lips twisted up at the corner as he tossed them across the room.
“Quite an arsenal. You should be able to win a war by yourself. Tie him up, Frank.”
The flyer hadn’t been paying any attention. He stood looking at Rita, his whole soul mirrored in his eyes.
Lennox swore sharply, “Come to life, will you?” To Nancy, he said, “Tie them all up. There’s rope around those boxes. Then herd Frank out of here and lock the door. We have no time to waste.”
Nancy got the ropes off the large boxes in one corner, tied up everyone except Frank as Bill held the gun on them all. Then Nancy guided Frank before her. Lennox followed, the big automatic still menacing the tied men and Rita. Lennox slammed the door, turned the key, then swung about and went down the hall. Nancy had Frank’s arm, was half pulling him along. They went down a service stair and into the big kitchen.
The head waiter came through the swinging door just as they entered, saw them. His mouth opened, then Lennox showed him the gun.
“We’re going out through the dining-room, mister, and you’re going ahead of us. Don’t forget, the gun’s in my pocket and it goes off easy.”
The man wasn’t forgetting anything. His face was a dirty yellow. Without a word he turned and led the way, leaving the kitchen force open-mouthed, staring.
The waiter preceded them into the foyer. When they had almost reached the outer door, a voice said, “Lennox!”
Bill stole a glance across his shoulder and saw Arthur Farnero. Mike’s nephew moved quickly toward them from the supper room.
“What’s all this? Why, Frank!” as he saw Hobbs.
“No time to explain,” Lennox snapped. “Come on. We’re going to the Central Police Station.”
“What happened?” Farnero asked as he followed Nancy, Bill and Hobbs into a cab.
Lennox told him in a dozen words. “They grabbed Nancy, broke Frank out of jail. I walked into the trap. I didn’t figure Rita was in on the play.”
Farnero said, “But what do they want?”
Lennox looked toward the silent Hobbs. “What do they want, Frank?”
Hobbs said, “Guns. Rodriguez’ party is ready to strike — another revolution, but they’re short on guns. Morgan’s got a regular arsenal, been collecting all the gangsters’ guns over the country ever since Repeal. He’s got enough machine guns and ammunition to really start a war. I was supposed to fly them into Mexico when things broke. It would have taken at least two weeks. You can carry a lot of guns that way. Then I got this job in pictures. I figured it would be finished before the trouble started down below the border, but something came up three days ago.
“They have to move now, if they ever intend to. The General called me. I’d promised to come any time they needed me. Mike was at my apartment when the call came. He told me I was a damned fool to leave the job in pictures. He tried to talk me out of going, but I wouldn’t listen. I’d promised Rita and her father — mostly Rita.
“They gave the guns to me almost two months ago and I stored them in an old house out by a little landing field beyond San Berdu. The whole point is that I’m the only one who knows where they are. I insisted that it be that way, otherwise I wouldn’t play. I was afraid of leaks. I’ve been in Mexican revolutions before and I know how much chance there is for someone to double cross.”
Farnero said, “Is that Womley Field?”
Hobbs nodded. “Yeah. I was going to start on the first trip last night after the party. Rodriguez and Morgan came to see me about seven-thirty last night and I met them on the balcony. While we were talking, Mike came up and found us. They wanted him to join too. We all went down to his apartment. They parted to argue and I got mad and left.”
Farnero laughed suddenly. “Swell! That’s what I wanted to know.” A gun appeared in his hand. They all stared at it aghast. He rapped on the glass, motioned the driver to stop the cab.
The man obeyed and Farnero swung out, slammed the door, then stood on the running-board and stuck his head in over the meter, so that his gun menaced the driver as well as those in the back seat. Lennox didn’t dare shoot. Farnero could have gotten Nancy instantly.
“Go back to the club,” Farnero said.
The cabbie showed him a scared face. “Y-yes, sir.”
No one else said anything as the cab turned and went back toward the La Paloma.
Farnero, still on the running board, ordered the driver into the alley. They went in through a side door, up the narrow staircase.
Rodriguez and Morgan were standing in the upper hallway. The man with the chalk eyes turned around and swore his pleasure as he saw Lennox.
“By Gawd, sport, I’ll kill you yet! I hadda yell five minutes before they broke the door in.”
Morgan moved heavily toward them. “Good work, Art.”
Farnero cursed softly. “It’s a damned good thing that somebody around here keeps his head up. They were headed right for the cops when I stopped them. Another ten minutes and we never would have gotten those guns.”
Rodriguez was sputtering with excitement. “We have no got them yet, and until Frank tells us—”
“He’s told us already,” Arthur Farnero cut in. “They’re cached out in an old house by the Womley Airport. You know the place?” He was looking at Morgan.
The gang leader nodded. “I know where it is.”
Farnero said, “All right. Get your trucks and get those guns down to the boat. Well have to sail before midnight if we hope to make it down there in time.”