Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

Johnson shook his head. “Too risky,” he said. “We'd give them protection if they wanted to squawk. All they have to do is to walk in here, lodge a complaint, and we'd look after them until an investigation's been made.”

“Suppose they can't get out?” Jay persisted.

Johnson frowned. “What you hintin' at?” he demanded. “Do you know anythin'?”

Jay shook his head. “Nope,” he confessed; “but I'm interested. I believe that a woman could be terrorized into prostitution, and I'm lookin' into it from this angle. I may be wrong, but if I ain't, I'm going to keep you mighty busy bookin' the heels who run the racket.”

“You're wasting your time,” Johnson said. “What you want is an excuse to play around with undesirable floosies. I bet part of your investigation will be meetin' and talkin' to these dames.”

Jay shook his head. “I'm serious, Johnson,” he said. “You wait and see. If I do strike on anythin' you'd better get ready for some heavy work.”

A police officer came in, followed by Benny Perminger. The officer went up to Johnson. “This guy thinks we've got his wife in gaol,” he said. “Will you speak to him?”

Johnson looked at Benny doubtfully. “What's the trouble?” he demanded.

Benny was looking scared. “I'm Ben Perminger,” he said. “I want to see my wife.”

Johnson closed his mouth into a thin line. “I ain't stoppin' you,” he said coldly. “She ain't here.”

“Well, where have you taken her?”

“What is all this?”

Benny began to look bewildered. “Well, I don't know,” he said. “I found this note when I got home.” He gave Johnson a slip of paper.

Jay sat up on the bench and watched all this with interest. He smelt a news story.

Johnson read the note and handed it back. “There's no one of the name of Perminger booked last night. We didn't pull anyone in from that address. I guess she's havin' a game with you.”

Benny stood staring at the note. “Maybe they didn't bring her here. Could they take her anywhere else?”

“There's the station on West 47th Street. I'll ask them.” Johnson pulled the phone towards him and put the enquiry through. After a short wait he shook his head and hung up. “No, they don't know anythin' about it.”

Benny began to sweat. “What am I goin' to do?” he asked.

Johnson was getting bored with him. “It's your wife, buddy,” he said. “Most like she's havin' a little game with you. You go back home. You'll find her waitin' for you.”

Benny turned away from the desk and moved slowly towards the door.

Johnson looked at Jay. “That guy's got a leak in his conk,” he said under his breath.

Jay got up and followed Benny out of the station house, ignoring Johnson's yell for him to come back.

Benny walked down the street in a daze. He didn't know what to make of it. Surely Sadie wouldn't pull a stunt like this if it didn't mean anything? She had said that she was being taken down to the station house as a witness and would Benny come at once.

Jay overtook him at the comer. “Hey, Perminger,” he said, “what's all this about your wife?”

Benny blinked at him. “Where the hell did you spring from?” he said, shaking hands.

“Come over an' have a drink,” Jay said, taking him by his arm and steering him into a near−by bar. “I overheard what you were tellin' Johnson. What's happened to Mrs. P.?”

Seated at a small table away from the bar and assisted by a large iced beer, Benny unburdened. He told Jay how he had quarrelled with Sadie and how he'd left her during the night. “Well, I felt a bit of a heel this morning,” he went on, “so I thought I'd get back and make it up. When I got in I found all the lights burning and a note on my pillow saying she'd been taken down to headquarters as a witness and would I please come.”

He paused to pull at his beer.

Jay puzzled. On the face of it, he thought, Sadie might be just teaching this guy a lesson, but his instinct for news was not satisfied. Why should she use such an odd way of scaring him? Why a witness? A witness of what? No, it didn't quite add up.

“I thought the police were supposed to help you,” Benny grumbled. “The way that guy went on, you'd think I was crazy.”

“You don't have to worry about him. He's gettin' all kinds of stories and complaints every hour, and he just doesn't take any interest. Where are you livin' now?”

Benny told him.

Jay suddenly sat up. “Surely, that's where Tootsie Mendetta hangs out?” he said.

Benny nodded. “That's right,” he answered. “I've been wantin' an introduction to him for weeks. I want to sell him a flock of tracks. He lives just opposite my apartment, but I've never set eyes on him.”

Jay got to his feet. There might be something in this story after all. It was a long shot, but he wasn't going to let it grow cold. “We'll go back to your apartment and have a look round,” he said. “Come on, buddy, let's go.”

Benny went with him and they took a taxi to the block.

Inside his apartment Jay couldn't find anything that excited him. It was just an ordinary joint of a man with a nice income. He wandered around, his hands deep in his trouser pockets, brooding.