Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

Lulu was painting her nails. Julie and Andree were doing some limbering−up exercises. Fan, her face screwed up with concentration and the tip of her tongue protruding, was writing a letter. In the far corner of the room Sadie sat in a yellow wrap, reading the newspaper.

They all looked up when Carrie came in. Fan sneered and returned to her letter. Carrie was aware of the long look of hatred that she got from Sadie. That didn't worry her any.

She said, “YouI want you.”

Sadie put down the newspaper and got to her feet. Her face was now a hard, cold mask. “What is it?”

“Come on out here. I want to talk to you.”

They went out together. Sadie followed Carrie into her own little room.

“You hate me, don't you?” Carrie said with a little grin. “Well, that's all right. But you'd hate the guy who got you here a damn sight more, wouldn't you?”

Sadie stood by the door. She didn't say anything.

Carrie said, “Do you know why you're here?”

Still Sadie didn't say anything. Her eyes smouldered with bitter hatred for the mulatto.

“You've seen too much,” Carrie told her. “You saw the guy who killed Mendetta.”

Sadie flinched.

“Yeah,” Carrie went on, “he's a bad guy. He runs this house. One of these days, baby, you're goin' to get a chance of puttin' that guy where you want him. That'll make you happy, won't it?”

Sadie clenched her fists. “One of these days,” she said, “I'm goin' to even the score out all round. You don't think you can get away with this for ever. You've turned me into one of these women because I haven't got the guts to fight you, but I'm not forgetting. Make no mistake about that.”

Carrie laughed. “Go back to your room. You've got to work tonight.”

Sadie went out silently.

3

August 17th, 10.30 p.m.

LEFTY walked softly down the dark alley, his hands in his coat pockets, his hat drawn well over his eyes, and a cigarette glowed in the darkness, moving up and down as he shifted it in his mouth.

Spade's big garage ran half the block, and Lefty was walking down the alley that ran immediately behind it. As he came to a lighted window he threw his cigarette away. Stretching up, he took one quick look into the room, saw Spade sitting there checking a ledger, and grinned.

He went on until he came to the back door and let himself in. He moved quietly down the dark passage.

Faintly he could hear the crews in the garage washing the cabs down. He could hear the murmur of voices and an occasional laugh.

He knocked gently on Spade's office door and went in. Spade looked up sharply. His face cleared when he saw Lefty. “Come in,” he said. “Raven sent you?”

Lefty shut the door softly. “Yeah,” he said. “You got a little trouble, ain't you?”

“Sit down. I'm glad you've come. It's time we had a talk. Why didn't Raven come himself?”

“He's busy,” Lefty said, still standing. “You know a lot, don't you?”

Spade shrugged. “You mean about Raven? Why, sure. It's my job to know things. Raven's been behind Grantham since Mendetta was bumped. I know that too.”

Lefty nodded. “Bright boy,” he said. “What else do you know?”

Spade reached for a pipe and began to load it. “I know, for some reason or other, Raven's driven the girls off the streets. It ain't that he wants a clean town. Raven ain't that sort of a guy. He's done it for something that'll fill his pockets, but I don't like it.”

“Too bad,” Lefty said, and smiled mirthlessly.

Spade struck a match and for a moment his big face was hidden behind blue smoke. “I want to know why,” he said.

“You know a lot. Why don't you find out?”

“If you're goin' to take that angle, I will,” Spade snapped, his face darkening. “Listen, Lefty, this isn't the way to take it. I'm willin' to work with you boys, but I can't let you ruin my trade. What the hell is all this about? Can't you see you ain't doin' yourselves any good clearin' the streets like this?”

“Raven thinks it's a grand idea.”

“Well, I don't. I'm tellin' you it's gotta stop.” Spade thumped his fist on the desk. “I thought you'd come along to talk business.”

Lefty shook his head. “Nope, we can't help you, buddy. The girls stay off the streets.”

Spade nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Then you can't blame me if it gets tough for you boys. I ain't givin' way on it. I can't afford to. I'll give you till next week. If the girls ain't workin' then I'll have to start somethin'.”

Lefty took a blunt−nose automatic from his pocket. “You'll just be a big smell in the ground, buddy,” he said evenly. “Raven sends this with his love.”

The automatic cracked once. Spade half rose from his chair. A big blot of blood suddenly appeared between his eyes. He spread out his hands and then fell forward over the desk.

Lefty ran over to the window, threw it up and climbed into the dark alley. He ran very quickly to the car parked at the end of the alley. Maltz swung the door open for him and Little Joe started the car rolling. Long before Spade had been found the car was out of sight.

Maltz said, “Did you get him?”

“Sure. He went out like a light. Raven was right. He knew too much,” Lefty said.