A Grave Undertaking, page 14
“But the map was dated only ten years ago and���”
“Greene and Pinkus are listed under surveyors and someone named Tickelmann. That’s all. Do we try either of them?”
Jake shook his head.
“I don’t know. I sort of doubt that, unless they actually were familiar with the property. Say, I know what. Why not a real estate office. If that map is dated ten years ago, the property must have been on the market then. Let’s find a real estate operator who has been in business since that time. There’s a chance that the place was listed with them all and��� “
Dr. Jordan was already out of the car.
“Start with the yellow passes,” Jake said, following him. “I’ll get some change.”
When Jake returned from the drugstore where he had changed a dollar bill into dimes, Dr. Jordan was already putting the receiver back.
“I got it on the second try. A man by the name of Peters,” he said. “Peters and Ginger, Realtors. I got him at his home and he said he would meet us at his office in fifteen minutes. The office is three blocks down the street on the right.”
“Did you tell him what we wanted?”
“No, I just said it was a matter of life and death.”
Chad Peters looked across his desk at Jake and Dr. Jordan and shook his head.
“Kastlebaum,” he said. “Sure, I knew him. Died seven years ago. Damned fine surveyor.”
Jake took the rolled-up map out of his pocket and handed it across the table.
“This is the place, Mr. Peters,” he said. “We are trying desperately to locate it. We felt that perhaps you, having been in business here for so many years, might be able to help us.”
Peters took the plat and put on his glasses. He studied it for several minutes and then looked up.
“Does it ring a bell?” Jake asked expectantly. Peters nodded his head.
“It does,” he said. “I sold it only last week to Milt Shwarz who owns Shwarz’s Hotel.”
Jake and Dr. Jordan simultaneously released their breaths.
“Thank the Lord,” Jake said. “Just where is it, Mr. Peters?”
“You wanting to make an offer on it?”
“Well, not exactly, sir,” Jake said. “We just want to find out where it is.”
“Well,” he said. “I don’t rightly know as that might be ethical. Guess I’d sort of have to know���”
“Mr. Peters,” Dr. Jordan said. “This is a serious matter. A matter of life and death-literally.”
“You boys better get in touch with the sheriff if that’s so,” Peters said. “I’m a real-estate man, not a���”
“Listen, Mr. Peters, you must try and understand. We just have to know where this place is. It’s confidential.” Jake was reaching for his wallet and he pulled out his newspaper identification card from the New York Blade.
“I’m a newspaperman,” he said, “up here working on a big story. But it has to be kept secret until we are ready to break it. Now, if you can tell me���”
“You going to run a story about this place?”
“The place enters into it indirectly.”
Peters again shook his head.
“Can’t say that Milt Shwarz would be in favor of anything running in the papers unless he knew in advance exactly���”
“But, Mr. Peters, Mr. Shwarz really has nothing at all to do with it. This is the kind of story which would mean a lot and I can tell you this, if you give us the information we want, I’ll see that Peters and Ginger, Realtors, gets mentioned and mentioned damned favorably.”
“Well, that sounds as though it might be interesting. We sell a lot of stuff to New York people. You sure you’d mention this?”
“My word of honor,” Jake said.
Peters thought for a moment and then slowly stood up. He crossed the room and pulled open the drawer of a long desk and when he turned around again he was unrolling a large map.
“County map,” he said. “Now, come over here and I’ll show you exactly where that property is. You have to go out about eleven miles on the main highway leading to���”
It was exactly seven-thirty when Jake and Dr. Jordan left the outskirts of Kingston, driving due west.
The marked map, which Chad Peters had given them, lay on the front seat between them.
CHAPTER TEN
1.
Earl Cradle pushed the final stack of bills across the table and leaned back in his chair.
“Well,” he said, “that’s it. Everyone satisfied?”
Karl, sitting directly opposite him, pulled his stack into his lap, saying nothing. Georgie, next to him, nodded. Herman muttered a “Sure,” and Joey said “Yes.” Billy, who sat next to Earl, just smiled.
Mario Gallucci, between Herman and Joey, stood up and gathered in his share.
“Fair enough,” he said.
Earl looked at his watch.
“Seven-forty,” he said. “Plenty dark out now. So, I guess that’s it. Herman, Billy’s driving you into Albany. She’ll take the Chevvie that’s out in the garage. She’ll drop you where-ever you want to get off. Now I think you’d better be getting started. We want to break this up as soon as possible.”
Herman stood up slowly and Billy reached down to the floor and handed him an overnight bag. He pushed the money in and pulled the zipper.
“I won’t be seeing you boys again,” he said. “It was a good caper.”
He moved over and shook hands with Earl. “A nice one, Earl. You come see me and Mama someday, see.”
“Right, Herman,” Earl said.
Billy looked at Earl for a moment and then nodded her head toward the door leading into the next room.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Earl said under his breath.
She put her money in a second zipper bag and moved toward the door.
“I’ll be waiting, Earl.” she said.
Two minutes later they heard the sound of the Chevvie engine as she gunned the motor.
Earl said, “Well, Joey, do you want to go along with Karl and Georgie or do you want to wait for us?”
Joey shrugged and started to open his mouth, but Karl spoke first.
“Why not leave together?”
“There are two Ford sedans in the garage,” Earl said. “Both have registration papers in the glove compartments. You, Karl, and Georgie can take either one of them.”
Karl stood up. He had a forty-five in his belt. He started to edge back toward the sideboard and Earl spoke quickly.
“Stay away from that sawed-off shotgun, Karl,” he said. His hand moved slightly, up toward the shoulder holster.
Karl stopped.
“What’s the matter, Earl?” he asked. “Don’t you trust us?”
“I don’t trust anybody where there is this much loot lying around.”
Mario fidgeted and looked studiously at the floor. Georgie Regan to move around nearer Karl.
“How about the girl in there?” Karl asked, looking toward the door.
“Don’t worry about her, Karl,” Earl said. “You and Georgie take off before it gets hot around here. Mario and I will worry about the girl.”
“The trouble is, I do worry about her,” Karl said.
“Look, what’s everybody getting so unfriendly about?” Georgie asked. “What the hell, Earl, if Karl wants the broad, why shouldn’t he���”
“I’m not arguing about it, I’m telling you. I’ll worry about the girl. You guys be smart and move while it is still safe to get away from this spot.”
“I’ll move when I know about the girl,” Karl said. “You think I want to walk into court someday and���”
“I’ve told you a dozen times not to be crazy,” Earl said. “That girl is no more of a danger to you than any of the others who saw you in the bank. She���”
“The hell she isn’t,” Karl said. “The others didn’t see Georgie here at all-but the girl did. The others maybe got one quick look at me if that. And then they were so frightened that they wouldn’t remember if I went to bed with them. The others haven’t heard my voice. She can identify it. What the hell do you think I am, nuts or something. I say the girl has to���”
“I didn’t come in this thing for murder,” Mario suddenly said. “So far it’s nice and clean. Let’s keep it that way.”
Karl swung around and looked at him with hard, malicious eyes.
“You,” he said, “sure, you want to keep it that way. You got a couple of hundred grand out of it. You’ll be safe somewhere in Italy and they’ll never get you. Anyway, you’re the only one it wouldn’t matter about. The cops know about your end already. You’re the only one they do know about.”
He turned back to Earl.
“And you, Earl,” he said. “You got over two hundred grand and that blonde of yours has another fifty. You got enough to disappear forever. But how about us? How about Georgie and Joey and me? Fifty grand apiece. How long you think we can disappear on that?”
“What are you doing?” Earl asked, his voice icy. “Squawking about the split-up? You know what you agreed on when you came in.”
“I’m not squawking about the split-up. But I didn’t agree to kidnap some broad and then let her go so she could be a witness against me if we ever get tagged.”
“Karl’s got a point there,” Joey said.
Earl swung around and glared at him.
“You stupid, two-bit punk,” he said. “You got fifty grand there in front of you. Why, you never had a five-hundred-dollar bill all at one time before in your life. I brought you in on this and the thanks I get is you turn against me.”
He took the cigarette from the side of his mouth and threw it on the floor.
“Now, listen to me,” he said. “I planned this caper and I put up dough. I paid off the gas company guy and I did the brain-work. Mario shot his business, supplied the original idea, and contributed the cars and all the rest of it. We are entitled to our share and you all agreed on it. You also agreed that if you came in, it would be with the understanding that I was to run things.”
“It’s different now,” Karl said. “The caper is all over.”
“That’s right, all over, Karl. Now you and Georgie go out and get in that car and blow.”
“Can I say something?” Joey said.
“Yeah, say it.”
“The argument seems to be what we do about the girl,” he said. “Mario says that so far we’ve only pulled a bank job and that’s prison and not the chair if they catch up with us. He’s forgetting one thing. We drove that broad across a state line. That makes it a federal kidnaping. Penalty-the chair.”
“He’s right, Earl,” Georgie said.
“You’re damned right he’s right,” Karl said.
“Why don’t we just sort of put it to a vote?” Georgie asked. “That’s the fair way.”
Mario pushed his chair away from the table.
“I said it before and I say it again. I want no part of no murder.”
Earl’s eyes went to him and he suddenly remembered that Mario was unarmed. Mario was on his side, but if it came to a showdown, he wouldn’t be of much use.
Georgie had taken his forty-five from the pile of guns and had it on him; Joey could have a gun or not, Earl couldn’t remember. In the meantime, Karl had again stepped back toward the table.
“You move any nearer that table, Karl,” he said, “and the fireworks start. Now, listen, all of you,” he continued, speaking quickly before anyone had a chance to say anything. “We’re acting like damned fools. What are we going to do, start shooting each other up for no reason at all? Hell, we got what we went after; it was a perfect caper. Now why the hell don’t we act like human beings and work this out.” He hesitated, looking from one to the other.
“Look, Georgie,” Earl said, “why don’t you go in the other room and bring the girl in here? Then we can���”
“Stay right where you are, Georgie,” Karl said. “If you want the girl in here, Earl, let Mario or Joey get her.”
“Leave the girl alone,” Mario said.
“I’ll get her,” Joey said. He moved over to the door and turned the knob.
Earl suddenly looked over at the window at the other side of the room.
“Quiet,” he said. “I thought I heard���”
“Now, Earl,” Karl said, “you wouldn’t really try to pull an old chestnut���”
“Listen, you fool,” Earl said in a harsh whisper. “I tell you���”
“Take a look outside, Georgie,” Karl said. “And, Earl���”
Cradle’s hand darted for his shoulder holster.
Karl didn’t even try for his gun. He moved like lightning and smashed the heavy round table against Earl’s body.
Earl had the gun out as he fell.
He shot as he was going over backward and the shot he had aimed at Karl, crashed into the back of Georgie’s skull, throwing him hard against the wall before he slid down to his knees.
Mario had moved fast and he was trying to get out the front door when the bedroom door opened. Joey took deliberate aim and shot his cousin three times, each bullet striking his back and plowing through his chest.
Earl rolled as he fell and the table missed crashing down on him, but by the time he had turned, looking for Karl, he already knew that it was too late.
He felt the bullet plunge into his stomach even as he heard the sound of the shot.
He thought he heard the crash of breaking glass.
He also thought he heard, somewhere off in the distance, the thin wail of a police siren.
He couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure because he was already dead before his arms had stretched out on the floor and the revolver had dropped from his hand.
2.
County Patrolman Flynn, driving a four-year-old souped-up Mercury, spotted the blue Buick sedan some five miles outside of town while he was parked in back of a large sign advertising a kosher restaurant. He smiled in satisfaction.
The Buick was tooling along at a good sixty and a good sixty was good enough for Officer Flynn. He gave them plenty of leeway, waiting until they were a couple of hundred yards past him, before he pulled out from behind the sign.
“Slick New Yorkers, eh?” he said, under his breath, and with satisfaction.
He played it cool, following behind with his lights off for another quarter of a mile before he pushed the button switching on the red flash on top of the car. Simultaneously he nudged the siren button.
It looked like a real nice one and he was smiling contentedly when it suddenly occurred to him that instead of slowing down, the Buick was speeding up.
Officer Flynn pushed hard on his throttle.
When the needle of his speedometer passed eighty, the officer was no longer smiling. His mouth had adopted a grim and determined line.
At eighty-five he swore and took his finger off of the siren button. He wanted it on the steering wheel.
At ninety, he realized that he didn’t have a lot left in the Mercury. And at ninety-five, he cursed a stingy county commission which kept the department on a budget that made it necessary to get that last damn mile out of its cars. The Buick began to pull away.
Flynn would have liked to take his hands from the wheel and flip on the radio and contact the state police. The smart thing, of course, would be to slow down and try and set up a road block ahead somewhere. Flynn figured that anybody willing to risk his life driving at the speed the Buick driver was going, probably was trying to do a little more than avoid a speeding ticket.
But officer Flynn was stubborn. He still had the twin tail lights in sight.
At the end of five miles, he knew that he was gradually losing ground. He was thinking seriously then about slowing down and putting in the alarm, when he suddenly realized the lights were no longer in front of him.
He pulled over to the side of the road and came to a full stop. A minute later and he had contacted the state police. For a while he sat and smoked, cursing his own bad luck. It was damned funny, first the car was there, and then it wasn’t.
Flynn spent quite a little time thinking about it.
Suddenly he opened his mouth and said, “Damn!”
He pushed the gear shift lever over and again started up the road.
He cursed himself again as he drove. He had sat there and wasted a good ten minutes, smoking and hating the county commissioners, instead of doing a very obvious thing.
3.
“Look, Doc,” Jake said, “I don’t think I should ever have let you drive.”
“Don’t worry.”
“My old man would have kittens if he could see what you’re doing with his car,” Jake said.
“Is he still behind us?” Jake looked back.
“Yeah. You know, my old man has had this buggy for a year and a half and he has never driven it over thirty-five miles an hour.”
“He should have bought a Simca,” Dr. Jordan said. “Are we gaining on him?”
“I think so,” Jake said. “But honest to God, you’re doing almost a hundred. Wouldn’t it be easier just to stop and take the ticket?”
“They don’t give you tickets at a hundred,” Dr. Jordan said. “I’m not going to be stopped. I’m not going to be stopped by anything. I have a hunch���”
Jake took the flashlight out of the glove compartment and flashed it on the map.
“According to this,” he said, “we got the turnoff on the next dirt road in just about half a mile.”
Dr. Jordan nodded grimly and the throttle hit the floor.
“What the hell!”
“Putting a little air between us,” Jordan said. “We’ll corner fast.”
“I’m not watching,” Jake said. “My old man���”
Jordan leaned forward and cut the lights. There was a half moon and he could make out the road as a vague white ribbon. He began to ease up on the throttle and touch the brake.
“Should be along here somewhere,” he said.
Jake started to turn in his seat to look back, but as he did, there was the screech of burning rubber and the car lurched. Jake slid across the seat and banged his head on the window.
A moment later and he thought they were turning over. His body slid back and crashed against that of his companion and the car behaved like a demented meteor. By the time Jake had clutched the door handle, prepared to pull himself from flaming wreckage, Jordan had straightened out and pulled on the light switch and was again pressing the throttle toward the floor.
