Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

“Well, come on. I'll buy you a lunch.” Jay got up. Fletcher shook his head. “Not now. Later, perhaps, but I want to tell you.” Jay sat down again. “Go ahead,” he said. “It's my sister, Janet. She went away one morning to work and she didn't come back. I've hunted everywhere. I've told the police, but they can't find her.”

Jay sighed. He knew there were a lot of girls in St. Louis who went out and didn't come back any more.

“Maybe she went off and got married. Maybe she thought she'd like to go to Hollywood. There're a lot of girls who suddenly get a bug in their conks and beat it without telling anyone.”

Fletcher looked up. His one eye burnt fiercely. “You don't believe that rubbish, do you?” he said. “That's what the police said.”

Jay shifted. “Well, what else could have happened to her? You don't think she's dead, do you?”

“I wish to God she was!” He beat his fist on his knee. “The Slavers have got her!” he shouted. “Do you hear? The Slavers have got her.”

“You don't know that. You only think they have. There ain't much of that stuff going on now. We've cleaned it up.”

“You're wrong. It's going on every day of the year. Decent girls leaving their homes and being trapped.

Decent girls forced into brothels. Any amount of them. And there's nothing done about it. The police know all about it, but they keep their mouths shut. Anyone who gets to know about it is given money to keep his mouth shut.”

“You can't talk like that unless you've got some proof. Why did you kick up that row at the 22nd Club?”

“Can't you guess? Grantham's working the racket.”

“You're crazy. Grantham? Don't talk bull.”

Fletcher lay back on his elbow. “I've been watching him,” he said. “One night, when the Club was closed, I saw a car draw up outside the Club. The street was empty. No one saw me. They took a girl out of the car. She had a rug over her head. Just as she got to the door she got the rug off and she screamed. They hit her on the head with something. They hit her very hard. I could hear the sound very distinctly from where I was standing. Then they carried her inside. You don't think anything of that? Well, I'll tell you some more.” There was a crazy gleam in his eye. “Another night I got on the roof. You've never been on the top floor of the Club, have you? Nor have I. But I've been on the roof. I've listened, lying on the tiles with my ear close to the roof, listening. I've heard things. I've heard girls screaming. I've heard the crack of whips. I've heard a lot of horrible things.”

Jay was interested now. “You're sure of all this?” he said.

Fletcher leant forward and grabbed his coat lapels. “Do you think I'd make it up? Don't you realize what all this means? My sister was one of those girls. She was taken into that place. They beat her until she was willing to do what they wanted. She's somewhere in this town, selling her body to anyone who'll pay for it. Do you hear? And everyone sits around, blast them, and tells me that it couldn't happen here. That this town's been cleaned up. And it's going on now... now... now!”

Jay pushed him back on to the bed gently. “Take it easy,” he said. “I believe you, anyway. Listen, Fletcher, you've got to use your brains. It's no good getting in a state about this. You'll be wanted to give evidence. I'll see that you get some money and I'll fix a job for you. You'll have to leave everything to me. I'm going out after this business. We want to close the Club up, and you've given me the right lever to do it with. Leave it to me. I'll fix those heels.”

Later, after he had made arrangements for Fletcher, he took a taxi back to the Banner office. The taxi couldn't drive him fast enough.

8

June 5th, 10.40 p.m.

BENNY PERMINGER just wasn't interested in the fight any more. From the first gong he'd sat forward, his jaw set and thrust out, and his hands clenched on his knees. He'd given them three rounds to get warmed up. These big guys couldn't take chances in the first few rounds. They'd got to get set and take stock of each other, so Benny was patient.

All right, this was the fifth round coming up and nothing had happened. These two punks just seemed to love each other. They poked feebly, and then shuffled into a clinch, then they'd break away, look at each other like they were surprised to see they were still standing up, and then start poking and clinching all over again.

Benny sat back suddenly with a long−drawn−out sigh of disgust. That's when it happened. His ears slid along silk stockings. You don't go getting your head between a dame's knees every day. It shook him up. It took his mind right off the fight and kept it off.

The dame shifted back fast enough, but it didn't alter the fact. Benny had had his head between her knees.

She had been sitting right behind him on the tier seat. Maybe, she'd never seen a fight before, so she got excited. She came forward, _with her knees hovering over Benny's head.