Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

Sobbing with rage, she kicked and twisted, moving the bed half across the room. One of her ankles was seized and fastened to the lower bedpost. She kicked wildly with her free leg and she felt a jar as she caught the negro in his chest. He grunted, grabbed the flaying leg and fastened that too. Then he got off the bed and looked at Carrie with a little smirk.

Sadie pulled and strained on the cords that held her, but they only bit further into her flesh. She was securely tied, face down on the bed.

Then she gave herself up for lost. No one would come at the last moment and save her from this horror.

She knew that she would not wake up to find that it had only been some strange and horrible nightmare. It was real and it was happening to her. And when the negro began to rip the clothes off her back she screamed like a terrified child.

PART TWO

1

August 16th, 10.15 p.m.

LITTLE JOE walked into the pool−room at the corner of 29th Street. He was pleasantly conscious of the sudden hush that greeted his entrance. Even the guys at the tables paused in their game and looked at him with interest.

He was something to look at now. His suit was heavily padded at the shoulders and its colour compelled a second glance. When Little Joe first saw it hanging in a window of a Jewish tailor his mouth watered. He'd never seen a suit quite like it. He knew there couldn't be another on the streets that came anywhere near it, so he went inside and bought it. Also he was persuaded to buy a pair of yellow shoes, a bowler hat that only just fitted him and a necktie that, to say the least, was completely surrealist.

The barman wiped down the counter and smiled at him. “Why, Joe,” he said, “you're lookin' pretty good tonight.”

Little Joe adjusted his bowler. “Like it?” he said. “I bet you ain't seen anythin' quite like this, huh?”

The barman said truthfully he hadn't. His tone was so dubious that Little Joe scowled. “Ain't nothin' the matter with it, is there?” he said. “I gave a heap of jack for this outfit.”

The barman told him hastily that it was swell.

Little Joe relaxed a trifle. “Gimme some Scotch,” he said. “Not every guy could wear a suit like this,” he went on, pouring out a liberal shot; “you gotta have somethin' to get away with it.”

A big fat guy, who had been playing snooker over the other side of the room, suddenly laid down his cue and came over. He owned a bunch of taxi−cabs that beat up a good business in the lower East side of the town. His name was Spade. Little Joe knew him well enough to nod to.

Spade was looking worried. When he got close to Little Joe he said, “I've been wantin' to talk to you, buddy. Come over to the table, will you?”

Little Joe followed him to a corner of the room and sat down.

“Well, what is it?” he asked, taking off his hat and brushing it carefully with his sleeve. “What do you want to see me about?”

Spade rubbed his hand over his fat features and shook his head. He certainly looked as if he was in a lot of trouble. “What's come over the town, Joe?” he said.

Little Joe stared at him. “What the hell are you talkin' about?”

Spade fingered his glass. “Where've the girls got to?”

Little Joe was non−committal. “What girls?” he asked.

Spade shook his head again. “You know. There ain't a floosie poundin' a beat this side of 27th Street. A couple of months ago you couldn't take a step without fallin' over them. Well, where've they gone?”

Little Joe grinned. “Can't you find any comfort?”

“It ain't that,” Spade said. “It's ruinin' my business. I've gotta find out what's wrong.”

“What do you meanruinin' your business?”

“What I say. When one of those floosie's found a sucker she took one of my cabs. My cabs were kept mighty busy doin' that businessnow it's all gone.”

Little Joe looked perplexed. He hadn't thought of it in that light. Spade was a member of the Hack Drivers Union and he'd got a certain amount of political influence.

“What makes you think I know anythin' about it?” he said cautiously.

“I use my eyes and my ears. They said Raven's at the back of the vice ring now. I know you've done a lot for Raven. You're in the dough now. Anyone can see that by the fancy uniform you're wearin'”

“Let me tell you,” Little Joe said heatedly, “this suit cost me”

“Skip it,” Spade said roughly. “What's goin' on?”

Little Joe hesitated. “Maybe the girls've got scared,” he said at last.

“If they've got scared, someone's scarin' them. You'd better lay off, Joe, an' you can tell Raven to lay off too. No one's goin' to bust up my business without hearin' from me.”

“Take it easy,” Little Joe said hastily. “I don't know a thing about ithonest. I'll have a word with Raven. I can't promise anythin'. He's a hard guy.”

Spade got to his feet. “So am I,” he said shortly. “Tell him that, too.”

Little Joe watched him walk across the room and resume his game. He took a little splinter of wood from his pocket and began to explore his teeth thoughtfully. Then he got up and walked out into the dark night again.