Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

Raven studied his nails. “Why not?” he said, pulling his dressing−gown cord tighter round his waist.

“Make an accident of it... you know.”

Grantham nodded. “I'll get it done,” he said, and went away.

Raven sat brooding. There was something he couldn't understand about Sadie. First Carrie and now Grantham. They both showed uneasiness when they were in his presence and Sadie's. He went into the other room.

Sadie was kneeling amid the tracks and the big outfit. She looked up quickly.

“Old pal of yours, huh?” Raven said.

She looked at him searchingly and then went on adjusting the line.

Raven felt a sudden vicious spurt of rage run through him as he stood behind her. He knelt down at her side and pushed her over. She fell off balance across the tracks and her shoulders flattened a miniature station.

She gave a little cry as the tin of the station dug into her flesh.

Grinning at her, Raven pushed her flat and then, amid the railway, flattened by their bodies, he had her.

8

September 8th, 10.30 a.m.

JAY ELLINGER parked his car in the big courtyard of the Preston Building and asked the commissionaire for Benny Perminger.

The commissionaire shook his head. “He left here a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “Mr. Caston would tell you where he went.”

Jay followed him into the reception hall. After a delay of phoning the commissionaire jerked his head to the elevator. “Third floor. Sixth door on the right,” he said.

Jay found Caston looking worried. He shook hands with him and accepted a chair.

“You a friend of Perminger's?” Caston asked.

Jay nodded. “I've been out of town for some time,” he explained. “I wanted to get in touch with him. It's important.”

Caston played with his penholder. “Well, I'm glad someone wants to find him,” he said. “I've been worried about that guy.”

“He's left here?”

Caston pulled a face. “Between you an' me, he was hoofed out. I liked that guy, you know. He was a good salesman. Then his wife ran away from him. That put him on the skids. I've never seen a man go to pieces so quickly.”

“What happened then?”

“He began hittin' the bottle. It got so bad that we couldn't keep him any longer. We all tried to hide it up, but the management got on to it in the end. He didn't get any business. We had complaints. It was a bad show.”

Jay grunted. “Well, where is he? What's he doin' now?”

Caston shook his head. “I don't know,” he said. “The last time I heard from him he was working for an addressing agency. Not much in that, you know.” He opened one of his desk drawers and searched, then he produced a little note−book. “He's staying at an apartment house on 26th Street. If you can do anything for that guy I'll be mighty pleased. He wants looking after.”

Jay scribbled the address down and got up. “Thanks, Mr. Caston,” he said, “I'll go an' see him.”

The apartment house reminded Jay of Fletcher. He thought, as he went up the steps, that this Slave racket was not only ruining the lives of hundreds of girls, but its repercussions were affecting the lives of their menfolk. It made him all the more determined to burst it open.

On the top floor he found Benny seated at a table scribbling away at a furious pace. A large stack of addressed envelopes lay on the table and bundles of other envelopes lay around the room. Benny looked a complete wreck. He hadn't shaved for several days, and his eyes were heavy and glazed. A strong smell of stale whisky came from him as he lurched to his feet, nearly overturning the table.

He said, “For God's sake,” and shook hands eagerly. “I've given you up. Sit down, buddy, an' have a drink.”

Jay looked round the grimy room. One glance was enough to tell him that Perminger was up against it. He refused the drink, but lit a cigarette. Benny poured himself a long shot of neat spirit. He held the unlabelled bottle to the light and scowled. “Hell! Someone's been stealing this stuff.” He said angrily, “There was half a bottle here last night.”

Jay said, “Forget it. I want to talk to you. What's all this business?” He waved his hand around the room.

Benny shrugged. “I gotta live,” he said. “It's a lousy job, but it pays for this.” He tapped the bottle and winked.

Jay got up and wandered to the window. “You didn't turn up anything when I was away?” he said over his shoulder.

“Listen, I ain't interested any more.” Benny's voice was sullen.

“Lost your guts?” Jay said.

“Yeah, so would you.”

“Well, come on, let's have it. Have you found out anything about your wife?”

Benny poured himself out another drink. “I haven't got a wife,” he said.

Jay lost patience with him. He came back to the table. “Listen. Don't be a heel. Your wife disappeared, didn't she? She's probably working for this Slave racket right now. I'm going to find her, and you're going to help me.”