Sally's in the Alley by Norbert Davis (top 100 novels of all time .txt) đź“–
- Author: Norbert Davis
- Performer: -
Book online «Sally's in the Alley by Norbert Davis (top 100 novels of all time .txt) 📖». Author Norbert Davis
“What kind of ore?” Doan asked.
“You wouldn’t know if I told you, and besides it’s none of your business. Dust-Mouth will know what you’re after. Don’t pretend to be a mining expert. Tell him you’re the forerunner of a Japanese invasion force, sent ahead to locate this deposit so they can take it over when they come and use what they get out of it to blow Washington off the map. Understand that?”
“Yes,” said Doan. “But if you don’t mind me saying so, it sounds a little on the screwy side from where I sit.”
“That’s how we want it to sound.”
“Oh,” said Doan. “I take it that this Dust-Mouth Haggerty doesn’t like Washington?”
“Not even any at all,” Arne confirmed.
“Why not? That is, providing you admit that you need a reason.”
“Have you ever heard of Boulder Dam?”
“Sure.”
“That’s why. Dust-Mouth claims it was built as part of a conspiracy to defraud him.”
“Was it?” Doan asked.
“You’d better practice up thinking so if you’re going to negotiate with Dust-Mouth. He had a gold claim on the Colorado River. He was washing out about thirty cents in gold a day. After Boulder Dam was built the river backed up over his claim so that now he can’t get at it. He says that was the real reason the dam was built, just to destroy his claim.”
“It seems like the long way around,” Doan commented.
“Not to Dust-Mouth. His claim was investigated, and he was offered compensation for it, but he wouldn’t accept. He says the thirty cents a day was merely the forerunner. He says he was just about to uncover the greatest gold deposit the world has ever seen, such an immense quantity of gold that it would have made him financial emperor of the United States, disturbed the world’s balance of trade, and resulted in international crises by the dozen. He says the politicians in Washington built the dam to prevent him from doing that.”
“When did he get out?” Doan inquired.
“Of where?”
“Of the insane asylum.”
“Six months ago. Don’t get the idea that he’s a complete whack. He’s not. He’s a monomaniac. He’s hipped on this one point. Other than that, he’s pretty shrewd and sometimes nasty. He’s just got a mad on with Washington, and he really means it. We’ve come at him from every direction, but he can spot a government man for a mile, and all he does is froth at the mouth.”
“Hmmm,” said Doan. “This ore I’m on the hunt for doesn’t have anything to do with his gold claim, does it?”
“No. Dust-Mouth is an old-time desert rat. He’s been prowling around in the Mojave for forty years. He came across the ore deposit we want on one of his trips. He never filed a claim on it, because the stuff was worth nothing at that time. It is now. In relation to the war effort, it’s worth just about any amount you want to name. You’ll probably have to promise to pay him a billion dollars for the location.”
“What happens if I do, and he shows me where the stuff is, and then I don’t pay off?”
Arne shrugged. “That’s your problem.”
“Yeah,” said Doan sourly. “How about giving me some counterfeit money to pay him off with? You’ve got plenty of that around, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Arne said. “But we’re not so foolish as to trust you with any of it. You just talk your way out. All we’re interested in is the location of that ore deposit.”
“Huh,” said Doan. “How do I find this guy, Dust-Mouth? The Mojave is a big place.”
“Start at a town called Heliotrope.”
“Where’s that?”
“Either in California or Nevada.”
“You said either?” Doan asked.
“Yes. The State of California is now suing the State of Nevada in the Supreme Court to compel Nevada to annex it. Nevada has started a countersuit to compel California to annex it.”
“What’s the matter with the place?”
“Just everything. Offhand, I can’t think of any crime that isn’t committed there regularly. You’ll feel right at home.”
“People circulate more nasty rumors about me,” Doan said mildly.
“We don’t deal in rumors,” Arne said. “Only facts.”
“Oh,” said Doan.
Arne nodded at him. “Don’t cut any corners in front of us. We’ve got quite a file on you and this hound of yours. There’s a car parked in front, downstairs. Use it. In the dash compartment you’ll find strip maps with the route to Heliotrope marked on them and an emergency gas rationing book made out in your name.”
“What kind of a car?” Doan asked. “Carstairs is particular what he rides in.”
“It’s a Cadillac.”
“Whee!” said Doan. “A new one, I hope, shined up all pretty?”
“Yes. And don’t try to mortgage it or sell it because it’s government property. Also, don’t stall around giving joyrides to people who work in dime stores. Get started for Heliotrope right away…”
“Like a flash,” said Doan. “How will I get hold of you if I locate the ore deposit?”
Arne stood up. “We’ll get hold of you. We can do that very easily, any time. Remember it. Come on, Barstow.”
Barstow paused in the doorway and nodded at Doan. “Good luck.”
“Well, thanks,” said Doan, pleased.
“You’ll need it,” said Barstow, closing the door softly.
Doan got up off the chesterfield and kicked Carstairs in the stomach. “Stop snoring, and act a little more alert. We are starting on a secret government mission of enormous and far-reaching importance.” Carstairs raised his head and looked at Doan and licked his lips slowly and meaningly.
“Stop nagging!” Doan ordered. “I’m working on that steak right now. Give me time, will you?”
Carstairs let his head fall back on the rug with a disgusted thud.
DOAN PACKED IN TEN MINUTES FLAT, AND WHEN he got through the apartment looked as though he had done just that, but he didn’t. He looked neat and fresh and cool in a light gray suit and a lighter gray hat and gray suede oxfords. He parked his two big, battered suitcases at the door, and as a last move pulled the cushions off the chesterfield and unearthed a Colt Police Positive revolver.
He slid that inside the waistband of his trousers, hooking it in a cloth loop sewn there for that purpose, and then he went over and pulled up the rug in the corner behind the bridge lamp. He found a .25 caliber automatic hidden there. He put that in the breast pocket of his coat and pushed an ornamental dark blue handkerchief down on top of it to keep it in place.
He was all ready to go when he had another thought. He took out his wallet and counted the money in it. The sum did not impress him. He put the wallet away and picked up the telephone from its stand beside the chesterfield.
The line clicked, and then a voice said cautiously
“Yes?”
“Is this Edmund, you rat?” Doan snarled. “I’ll have something to say to you in a minute, but right now you connect me with the manager! I’ve got a beef with him!”
“This—this is the manager, Mr. Pocus.”
“Oh, it is, is it? Well, what do you mean by tipping me off to those government men? Do you want to get me hung or something? You squealer! You doublecrosser! Do you think I’m going to recommend this joint to any of my pals as a hideout if that’s the way you’re going to act?”
“Wha-wha-what?”
“Don’t try that innocent stuff! I’m going to come down there and tear you up in little pieces! Just listen!”
Doan kicked Carstairs again and then leaned down and held the telephone close to his face. “Give,” he whispered.
Carstairs snarled into the receiver. He looked enormously bored while he was doing it, but over the telephone the sound must have been horrible, because Carstairs had a company snarl that began low and ended high and undulated blood-chillingly in the middle register.
“There!” said Doan into the telephone. “Did you hear that? That’s just a sample of what you’re going to get when…” He listened and then said in a milder inquiring tone, “Hello? Hello, Mr. Rogan? Are you there?”
There was no answer.
Doan put the telephone back on its stand, took hold of Carstairs’ spiked collar and heaved. “Come on. Hurry up.”
Carstairs got up one foot at a time and sauntered to the door. Doan opened it for him and picked up the suitcases and bunted Carstairs in the rear with one of them.
“Go on. Get moving.”
They went down the hall and down the stairs into the lobby. There was not a soul in sight.
Doan put his bags down and hammered vigorously on the desk. “Service! Service here! Mr. Rogan! Edmund!”
No one answered. No one appeared.
“Now imagine that,” Doan said to Carstairs. “Obviously I can’t be expected to pay my bill if there isn’t anyone to pay it to, can I? The answer is no. So I won’t pay. That will be a lesson to them to give more attention to their business in the future.”
He picked up the suitcases again and negotiated them and Carstairs through the plate glass door. There was a black sedan glittering with chrome and a beautifully high, lustrous polish parked at the curb.
“Ah-ha!” said Doan. He opened one of the rear doors and heaved the bags inside and then walked all around the car twice, rubbing his hands blissfully. “Take a squint at this, kid. We’re coming up in the world… Carstairs! Where are you?”
There was a slight typhoon taking place in the thick, neatly trimmed shrubbery that marched precisely along the front of the apartment building. Shrubs heaved back and forth wildly, and branches crackled.
“Carstairs!” Doan shouted. “Oh, you would pick a time like this! Rogan is going to get over being scared and call copper on us or something if we don’t get out of here. Hurry up!”
Carstairs’ head appeared out of the greenery. He did not look like he was hurrying or even intended to. He blinked at Doan in a fatuous and pleased way. Doan started for him. Carstairs sighed comfortably and came out of the bushes. Doan got him by the collar and dragged him across the walk to the open rear door of the Cadillac.
“Get in there!”
He heaved vigorously, and Carstairs allowed himself to be urged through the door. Doan slammed it with a thump and crawled into the front seat. He started the car and drove off down the street with a viciously triumphant clashing of gears.
He drove over to Rossmore and up Rossmore to where it turns into Vine, and up Vine to Sunset Boulevard. He swung around to the right on Sunset, narrowly missing twenty-five sailors, sixteen soldiers and two marines who were doing sentry duty on the corner in the hopes of seeing a movie star. He drove two blocks farther and pulled up in front of an open air market.
It was really quite a marvelous place. It covered an area half the size of a city block, and you could buy anything in it from lollipops to life insurance. Doan got out of the car and headed for the long and empty meat counter. There was only one butcher behind it, and he looked as though he wished he were somewhere else.
“I’d like a three-pound porterhouse steak,” Doan told him.
“So would I,” said the butcher.
“I know you’ve got one hidden out in the icebox,” Doan said.
“How do you know?” the butcher asked.
“I’m a Japanese spy. We spies get
Comments (0)