Big Stan, page 13
"I'm not even listening to what you're saying, Stan. And I don't think you are either."
"You're right, Eva," said Stan, and he grabbed up a phone and told the operator to get him Deputy Chief of Police Sellers. Sellers came on almost at once.
"Stan?' I've been hoping I'd hear from you. How are we coming?"
"I've got to see you on an important matter right away. I'll drive over."
"I think I know what this important matter is," said Sellers after a pause. "Just save yourself the trouble."
"I can't talk on the phone," Stan said. "That's how important it is."
There was another pause. "All right. Come on over."
"Fix it, Stan," said Eva, as he picked up his hat and started out. "I'm counting on you."
Stan put his hand on her shoulder. "Remember something. I'm not the chief. I just work here."
As he went out the door Eva called, "It's odds on you'll fix it."
Stan stopped and turned. "It's a funny thing how much faith people have in me when I've got so little in myself."
Eva laughed pleasantly. "Stan, I like almost everything you say. Maybe because you say what you mean. 'By."
***
Again Stan had steeled himself to an encounter and once more he found himself facing Chief of Police Ballard is well as the man he'd intended to lay down ultimatums o. However, this time it was different. He was no longer it loose ends, groping hopelessly; he could see light now.
Stan didn't mince words. "Yes, I came in regard to Policewoman Eva Grenkovski. She's vital to me on this case. I'm not trying to block her transfer to the River District. I know it's a plum and she deserves it. I'm only asking you to hold off till this case is settled."
There was a pause. Ballard glanced at Sellers. Finally Ballard asked, "But is she vital to the case?"
Stan flushed heavily and struggled for control. "I just said so."
The Chief's lips tightened and he lowered his eyes and tapped on Sellers' desk top with a pencil for a few moments. "I suggest we keep our tempers, Hinchman."
"I tell the truth," said Stan. "I dislike very much being called a liar."
Sellers cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Now, Stan. The Chief didn't mean it that way, I'm sure. But we have reasons to believe, or we have been led to believe… uh, well…"
"How?" Stan demanded. "By anonymous phone calls? Anonymous letters?"
Sellers nodded slowly, saying, "From many different sources."
"From one source only," Stan broke in. "And that's the man I'm looking for."
The Chief and Sellers stared at each other blankly. "What are you talking about, Stan?" asked Sellers.
"You read the reports. This is the same man who sent jeering notes to Captain Glinka, who called me on the phone, who called my wife and tried to make trouble for me in regard to Eva Grenkovski. It's all in black and white. Look up the reports."
"But why, Hinchman?" the Chief demanded. "Why?"
"Because he's a dangerous lunatic. He's been trying to date Eva Grenkovski."
Both Sellers and the Chief stood up at the same time.
"Hinchman," cried the Chief, "you mean you know who he is?"
"Yes," said Stan, "but proving it is something else, I'll tell you this much: He's a member of police department personnel. That's why I. requested that you allow me not to send in any more reports."
Ballard and Sellers sat down and exchanged glances, then Sellers opened a desk drawer, took out five letters, and handed them to Stan, who leafed through them quickly. Three of them were typewritten, all on different typewriters-one obviously had been pecked out on the old Corona in the storeroom. The fourth letter was made up of phrases and words cut out of magazines and newspapers. But Stan flushed and stood up abruptly when he saw the fifth letter.
"He's finally made a mistake," said Stan, as if to himself.
"How?" asked Sellers.
"This one is by hand. He wrote it himself, trying to disguise his handwriting. But an expert can tell."
"Fine. But you can't indict on that, writing an anonymous letter."
"No. But it's the first real link."
There was a long pause. Stan took out a cigar, and much to his surprise the Chief leaned forward with a lighter. Stan was overcome with embarrassment and thanked the Chief profusely. The heat was off now, Stan was calm, and with a sinking feeling he remembered how he'd shouted at Ballard. "Chief," he said, "you've got to excuse me for getting so…"
"Forget it," snapped Ballard. Then he turned to Sellers. "Rescind the transfer. Hinchman, I'm sorry we interfered. It won't happen again. Don't waste any more time with us. Good-by."
Stan shook hands with both Sellers and Ballard, grinning. Then he went out hurriedly, taking the letters with him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SINCE IT WAS SO LATE IN THE AFTERNOON, HE DECIDED to stop by and see Ruth and the kids before he went back to the station. But first he called Eva.
"All set," he said, when she came on. "We'll talk about it later."
"What did I tell you, Stan? Odds on."
"See you after a while."
"I wasn't worried. 'By, now."
It was obvious that Eva was very much relieved and, very happy, but when Stan got home it was another matter entirely. Ruth looked tired and wan, and Stan could see that she was deeply worried about something. He helped her bathe the kids and Herb insisted on trying to swim in the tub, finally getting a mouthful of water, and convulsing Bob. But Ruth didn't laugh, and Stan kept glancing at her, wondering what was up.
In the midst of shrieks and violent horseplay, they finally managed to get the kids into their sleepers and ready for their dinner. Then Ruth got the tanks out of the cupboard and in a moment the loud, complicated battle was on.
Ruth motioned to Stan and they slipped out, shutting the nursery door quietly.
"Something wrong?" asked Stan.
Ruth hesitated for a moment "Stan, I know you've got your troubles and I don't want to add to them, but… well, I think you should know. A man has been calling me again about that-that Eva."
"How many times?"
"Four times in the last week."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, you explained it to me before and I didn't want to… Stan, is there anything in this? I've been so upset all day I… Look, Stan. If anything happened to us I don't know what I'd do."
Stan felt deeply moved. "Honey," he said, "sit down. We've got to talk again."
Ruth sat on the couch and Stan pulled a straight chair up opposite her and sat in front of her, leaning forward, holding her hand. "First, about Eva. I like her, Ruth.
She's all right. I enjoy talking with her. I'd never lie to you. Nothing will ever happen between us. Believe me, Ruth. Once it might have. But that's all over with."
"Stan!"
"I've got to tell you the truth. I'm no plaster saint. You know that, Ruth."
She studied him as if seeing him for the first time. "Yes, I know. But I keep forgetting. You're just my husband now, Stan, and Bob's and Herb's father. I just never think about you as a man. You know what I mean. The way you were when I first met you. How you shocked me, Stan!"
"You needed it."
"Yes, I did. But I keep forgetting."
"Well," said Stan, "try to remember. But don't worry. Now listen carefully, Ruth. Eva is the key to this case. I'm not going to explain. But I just want you to know that. And the man that's calling you is the man I'm going to arrest sooner or later."
Ruth gave a gasp. "You mean that man killed-"
"Yes," said Stan. "I've got to tell you everything now, Ruth, since we're getting so close. This house is guarded day and night. At night it's staked out. In the daytime there's a two-man shift."
"Oh, I'm so glad you told me finally," said Ruth. "I was beginning to think I was imagining things. I've seen the same man several times-a stranger. I was afraid that…"
Stan slid onto the couch beside her and, taking her in his arms, kissed her and stroked her hair. From the nursery came the terrific noise of the tank battle: wild cries, loud banging, triumphant shrieks.
"Oh, I feel so much better," said Ruth. "Keeping things bottled up is wrong."
"Yes," Stan said, and then he began to grin. "Listen to that uproar. How can little things like that who don't weigh over forty pounds make so much noise?"
***
About five-thirty Stan called Eva and had her come up to his office, where he explained to her what he was going to do, or try to do. They talked it over at some length and Eva made several good suggestions.
"Give us a few minutes, if I make it," Stan said. "Then join us."
Eva nodded, smiled, and went out.
At five minutes of six, Stan descended to the first floor, lit a cigar, and went outside to the car entrance to smoke it. Pacing up and down on the tarred asphalt of the parking lot, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Otey was in the gatehouse getting ready to quit for the day. Stan ignored him and kept on pacing, apparently lost in thought. Finally Otey appeared from the gatehouse, putting on a worn leather jacket. The night was cold and misty. He started for the alley at the rear of the parking lot, but turned at the sound of heavy pacing, saw Stan, hesitated, then came over, grinning.
"What's the matter, Cap?" he asked. "Why don't you stop worrying?"
Stan paused and looked at Otey blankly as if he couldn't quite focus on him. At last he said, "You know something, Otey? I'm about to throw in my hand."
"Throw in your hand? Now don't do anything silly like that, Cap. You'll get a black mark on your record Downtown."
"I can't help that. I'm just getting no place and wasting the taxpayers' money. I might just as well bow out and let 'em bring Glinka back."
"Cap, listen to me," said Otey. "Don't know why I should be trying to tell you anything, a smart detective like you and me just an ordinary mechanic, but sometimes a guy on the outside-a layman, as they call 'em-sometimes he sees things clearer than the experts. You had any trouble lately?"
"No, we haven't. Nothing."
"Don't that tell you something? Maybe this guy has lammed since that girl got killed. Maybe he got scared and lammed. Hell, he may be in California, for all you know. Look, Cap. Don't be foolish. Stick around. So maybe nothing will ever happen again. All quiet. Then you're going to look pretty good. Hinchman scared him out. Do I make sense or do I sound silly to you?" Otey grinned and slung his cap sideways.
"Yes," said Stan. "You make pretty good sense, Otey. There's only one trouble. Makes no difference where he is, he's wanted for murder, and it's my business to catch him, not just sit back and wait. That's what got me bothered. I never saw a case like this before. I haven't got a single lead in all this time."
"Well, the point is," Otey said, "nobody else maybe can do much better, so why should you give up and make yourself look bad? That's all I'm saying."
Stan sighed heavily. "I don't know. I guess I'll sleep on it tonight. Right now I could stand a sandwich and a cup of coffee. How about it, Otey? I'm buying."
"Sure, sure," said Otey, grinning. "I got to eat someplace, and since you're buying, Cap…"
They left the parking lot and walked across the street side by side to Steve's. At the foot of the outside stairway down which Katie had fallen to her death, Stan paused for a moment. He studied the bottom step, then raised his eyes and looked up the stairs. Otey lit a cigarette and stood looking on, showing only a mild interest. Sighing, Stan turned, and they went into the restaurant and sat in a little booth at the front. A couple of dicks shouted loud greetings to Otey, who shook his clasped hands over his head like a victorious fighter, and when one of them paused on his way out, Otey said:
"I'm flying pretty high, you see-me and the Cap. I don't know if I'll talk to you guys any more or not."
The dick laughed. "What have you got him for, Stan?"
"Oh, he's just a suspect," said Stan.
"Well, I'm glad you finally caught up with him. Always did think he was the Black Phantom-ever since the two new boys threw him in the can that night." The dick roared at the memory.
Otey showed mild annoyance. "Go on, laugh," he said. "I'd like to see you in that tank with a bunch of filthy, stinking drunks and cokeheads. Don't those guys ever wash?"
"This Otey," said the dick, still laughing, "he's clean as a fifty-dollar doxie. Uses all the hot water in the station, taking showers."
"All right, sue me," said Otey. "I can't help it if you guys haven't got enough pride to wash. Be dirty!"
The dick winked and waved. "Hang it on him, Stan. He'd be the life of the prison. He'd be eating with the warden and his family in two nights."
Otey roared with laughter. "You got a point, boy. I'm a right amusing fellow, they tell me; though I don't amuse myself much."
The dick went out, laughing. Anna, one of Steve's older daughters, came to take their order. She was a tall, overbuxom girl with very artificial-looking blondined hair and a heavy, sullen face. She was no Katie.
They ordered, then Stan asked, "Where's Steve?"
"He's in bed, sick. Won't get up. I don't think he's that sick. Fine time for him to act like this. All right, we're sorry about Katie, too, but we got to keep working. I have to come over here and run things and that makes us short-handed at our place. Oh, it's a mess."
She shrugged and made a hopeless grimace as she moved off.
"Mess is right," said Stan. "I feel like hell about it. That's one reason I'm just about ready to throw in the sponge."
"You listen to me, Cap," said Otey. "Don't do it. A big I guy like you can't go around throwing in the sponge. It don't look right."
"Got any ideas, Otey? What you said over at the lot interested me. About a layman, I mean. You're right. Experts get in too deep at times, get all snarled up in details."
Otey thought for a while, then shook his head. "No, Cap. I got to tell you the truth. I was just as far off as everybody else. You see, the boys are always talking to me in the lot. Like I said the other day, I don't pay much attention to police cases. I'm so used to all that yacking by the coppers I just don't listen. I got them goddamn I engines to worry about. But of course… such a big case. Well, I thought it was over when they knocked off that Syrian guy. And maybe it was."
"What do you mean?"
"It don't have to be one guy, you know."
Stan groaned. "You're a big help, Otey. I sort of had the same idea myself, but I tried to put it out of my mind. That really would be the finish."
Anna came with their order and for a while they ate and drank in silence. Then Otey glanced up and his pale blue eyes brightened. "Look who's here!"
Eva was standing in front of the booth, smiling at them. "Well," she said, "am I welcome?"
"As the flowers in May," said Otey, rising and gesturing her to a seat with a flourish.
Eva sat down and tapped on a ketchup bottle with a knife. "I'm in a hurry. Got to go 'way up the river, north."
Anna came over, gave Eva a sharp, unfriendly look, and took her order without a word.
"Way up the river!" cried Otey. "Your taxi bills must be something fierce. Or is this official business, and not monkey business?" Otey giggled loudly.
"My aunt's sick," said Eva. "I promised to go see her as soon as I quit work."
"You don't need no taxi, I been telling you," Otey said. "I'll take you. I can always get a car. I'm a privileged character around the station. That right, Cap?"
"That's right, Otey," said Stan. "But maybe some other time. I promised Eva I'd take her tonight."
Stan lifted his coffee cup to drink, apparently ignoring Otey, but actually watching him out of the corner of his eye. Once more he saw that cloud pass over Otey's face, then Otey grinned and shrugged.
"Well," he said, "any time, Eva. Always at your service. Now, folks, I think I'll run home. When I get my belly full I'm like a bear. All I want to do is sleep." He rose and gestured to Anna.
Stan said, "It's on me, Otey. You didn't give me much help, but at least I had somebody to talk to."
"Drop down any time, Cap. And take my advice. Stick around. Don't be a sucker."
As Otey went out, two big dicks, coming in, barred his way. There was a quick, laughing scuffle, then Otey broke away from them and hurried across the street.
The two dicks came in, laughing. "That Otey!" one of them said.
***
Stan drove in silence as they crossed the bridge.
"Let me off at the Plaza," said Eva. "I can call from there."
"I'll take you wherever you want to go. Relax."
"I got a date, Stan."
"All right. So you've got a date. I'll take you there."
"I don't want you to."
"Why not?"
Eva replied loudly and in an irritated voice, "I just don't. What do I have to have an excuse from my mother?"
Stan compressed his lips and once more drove in silence. After a moment Eva put her hand on his arm and spoke softly. "Stan, I saw your kids."
Stan almost lost control of the wheel. "You what?"
"Pictures, I mean. My God, they're cute. Such darlings!"
"Pictures? What are you talking about?"
"Joe. He's got color pictures of them."
Stan turned to look at her, grinning. "Oh, those are old pictures-taken last Christmas. You ought to see them now. Herb-he's the monster-biggest boy for his age you ever laid eyes on."
After a long pause Eva said, "I'd like to really see those kids once. And your house-I'd like to see that, too."
Stan was silent for a moment. "Well, maybe after the case…"
"Dreaming again," said Eva. "Old Dreamy, that's me." She turned. "Pull up over here." Then she burst out laughing. "I don't have to call, after all. He's waiting. What a guy! I told him I'd call from here as soon as I could get away, and there he is with his little Cadillac."
Stan eased the car in to the curb. As he did so, a heavy-set, well-dressed man got out of the driver's seat of a new Cadillac sedan. "Eva, I thought you said…" Stan began.
