Manhunt. Volume 9, Number 1, February 1961

“Yeah, Bill. I followed him uptown and saw him go in the building. Then a couple of minutes later the light went on in that fourth floor room on the corner. He came to the window and I saw him good when he closed the blind.” He pointed to the window he meant. There was still a light in the room.

“I haven’t got time to fill you in on everything that’s happened,” I said. “I’m going in now and make the pinch, but first I have to see him alone and try to find out something. You got your gun on you?”

He nodded.

“Let me have it,” I said.

He took it out of his shoulder holster and handed it back to me. I slid it under my belt, around on the left side.

“How many city detectives are there around here now?” I asked.

“Three or four that I know of. A couple of them are out behind an alley that leads into the back yards there. Why, Bill?”

“I’m in a mess with them, and I want to steer clear of them if I can,” I said. “I’ll make this as fast as I can, but if I get in any serious trouble, Harry, I’ll try to smash that window. Come in fast then, but come in with a gun, and bring those cops with you. I’m not sure what this guy might try, he’s certainly pretty upset and mad after what happened today. If I can bag him quietly, though, I’ll call the office and have them contact you over your radio — keep it on. Then you can come in alone or with our guys, but leave the cops out of it until I can duck out. I don’t want to see them if I can help it. You got that straight?”

“Whatever you say, Bill.”

I got out of the cab and started for the entrance of the apartment building. I could feel that knot growing in my gut again. I walked in and went right to the elevator and rode to the fourth floor. Apartment 4E was off to the right. I reached into my jacket pocket and turned on the switch of the transistor recorder. I didn’t need any more evidence against Larry Coster, but you could never tell — it might come in useful. Then I pressed the doorbell button twice, two short ones.

In a couple of seconds a low voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

“Me, Bill. Bill Young,” I said. “Monk just sent me up.”

The door opened a little and he peered out at me. I could see the blue glint of an automatic at his waist. When he saw I was alone he opened the door wide enough for me to walk in. He stood off to the side of the door and then I didn’t have any trouble seeing the gun.

He waved me into the room with it and shut and locked the door behind me. He kept the automatic right on my middle.

“Where’s Monk?” he asked.

“Downstairs in his car,” I told him. “He came to my hotel room and I gave him the suitcase with the stuff in it. He brought me out to his car and we rode up here. He couldn’t find a place to park so he told me to come up here and get you. He said you should call the Boss to let him know he had the stuff and find out what he wants you to do.”

I threw the whole can of bait at him — there was no time for stalling. I just hoped he took it. From here on I’d have to play it by ear.

“How come Monk didn’t call me?” he asked. “He was supposed to call me here.”

“How do I know? Maybe because he has no telephone in his car. Go down and ask him,” I said.

Larry Coster was a bundle of nerves. His face was haggard and strained and he looked as if he had a few too many belts of liquor to keep himself under control. He searched my face with a hard, vicious look in his eyes.

“If I thought you were trying anything funny I’d let you have it right now,” he said. He inched the gun a little higher. Now it was aimed at my heart.

“You guys make me sick,” I said. I wanted to quiet him down, I didn’t like that look in his eye, and he had the gun.

“You’re the friendliest bunch I ever worked with. Every time I see one of you, you throw a gun on me. Monk even accused me of being a finger man.”

“Are you?” he asked. His voice was deadly.

“Would I be here if I was? I try to work with you guys — duck cops all afternoon and worry about getting your stuff back to you — then go back to my hotel room where I figure Monk will be able to reach me and all I get are guns thrown at me. This is the last time I have anything to do with a bunch like you. If I was a finger man I wouldn’t be here, but there’d be cops swarming all over the place. Now if you want to shoot me go ahead, enjoy it. If not put that thing away. I’m getting out of here.”

It worked. I breathed out nice and slow and felt the knot in my middle loosen as he shoved the gun in his hip pocket. He shook his head as if to clear it and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mac,” he said. “It’s just I can’t take any chances. I’m nervous as a cat. You know what we have in that bag?”

“Yeah. Monk told me hot jewels,” I said.

“Yeah, man, hot jewels. But you know how much? You know how much jewels is in there?”

“Must be a big deal to make you guys so jumpy,” I said.