Rackets, Inc.: A Johnny Merak Classic Crime Novel. John Glasby
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finish with all the advantage of surprise on his side this time.
I swung the chair up as he turned, got it between us and lifted it towards his face. It blocked his headlong rush, but he pulled it savagely away from me before I could use it as a club to batter over his head.
His body twisted as he threw the chair across the room and I kicked out at him, sending him sprawling. He drew his lips back over his teeth in a grin of savage fury. His breath was whistling between his teeth as he tried to pull himself upright.
I lashed out at him again, but he rolled out of range, got to his feet with an agility that belied his bulk, and then he got to me with both fists pummelling my chest with rib-crushing blows that knocked all the wind from my body.
I doubled up, tried to get my breath back, and caught a savage blow on the chin that sent me reeling backwards, hitting the floor with my shoulders and spine. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of the hoodlum’s distorted features leaning over me as he drew back his foot to kick me in the small of the back.
I could see his face quite clearly, his teeth showing white in a tight grin of savage pleasure, his chest heaving beneath his torn coat. He looked down at me, then laughed harshly.
“I warned you last night I’d remember that beating, Merak,” he gasped. “Now the boot’s on the other foot and this is where you get what’s coming to you.”
He turned his attention away from me for a moment as he looked across to where the .38 had fallen, and it was that momentary mistake on his part that gave me the chance I needed.
Before he could move, I lashed out with my right foot, kicking him with all my strength on the ankle. With a yelled, he jumped backward and tripped over my other foot hooked behind his knee.
It wasn’t easy to get up after the pummelling I had received earlier, but I managed it with a supreme effort. My head was spinning like a top and every breath seemed to rip my chest into a thousand pieces.
I knew inwardly that I had to move. Maybe the hoodlum would have killed me if I hadn’t got the gun first. I don’t know. He was almost on his feet when my fingers closed around it and I swung round, pointing it at his stomach.
“Just stay where you are, punk,” I muttered, holding onto the table for support. “Otherwise I’ll let you have it.”
He stopped, glaring at me, his face twisting, his mouth working.
I knew the kind of man this hoodlum was. If he thought there was a chance in a million of taking back the gun from me, he’d have jumped at it. I could see by the glint in his eyes that if I let him go this time, no place on earth would be sufficiently distant for me to hide from him.
I wasn’t really afraid, but it was a hell of a peculiar feeling.
“Sit down,” I ordered. “There are a few questions I want to ask you.”
He hesitated, then thought better of it, and sat down in one of the chairs. I moved around to where I could see him more clearly.
“It’s obvious you knew I was following you, so it’s pretty clear to me that you haven’t let up on me.”
“We never let up. You ought to know Clancy Snow better than that.”
“Ah, so it’s Clancy you’re working for. I wondered about that, you know.”
He looked sullen, stared down at the floor beneath his feet. I waited.
“So I’m working for Clancy Snow. What about it?”
“Nothing. Only perhaps you know more about what happened to Maxie Temple than I do. And I want to know something more. So if you want to get out of here in one piece, you’d better talk, otherwise I’ll have the great pleasure of shooting you. It won’t kill you outright, but you will linger long enough to suffer. Before the end, you’ll be pleading with me to kill you.”
The muscles on his face were working overtime now. I could see that he was getting scared and knew that it was no idle threat. His eyes kept flicking from my face to the gun in my hand and then back again.
“You can’t scare me that easy,” he said finally, licking his lips.
“No? Your yellowness is showing through your face.” I steadied the gun and applied a little pressure on the trigger.
He leaned forward with a jerk and there were little beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. His hands gripping the size of the chair were white-knuckled with the nervous pressure he was exerting.
“Tell me what happened at the airport last night,” I said gently. “All the details. Take your time. I can wait.”
“You’re a son of a bitch!” he spat sharply.
I brought the gun up just a shade. “Going to talk?” I asked.
He tried to nod his head and bleated a noise. My right elbow was ready to smash into his throat if he needed persuading.
“Clancy Snow arranged it, but you’ll never prove that. He’s too smart for a crook like you to pin a murder rap on him.”
“Who killed Maxie? Did you?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be that stupid. My job was to look after you, not Maxie.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
I hit him across the side of the face, jerking his head back viciously.
He glared with a naked fury at me, and for a moment I thought he intended to ignore the gun and make a lunge for me. Instead, he cooled off and sank back into the chair.
His voice took on a whining edge: “It’s true, I tell you, I’ve no idea who did the killing. Do you think Clancy Snow would tell me that?”
Well, that was that. Once again I’d drawn a rotten break. I ought to have realised it, of course. Clancy Snow was a smart operator. He had plenty of men to carry out his orders. He didn’t need to let any one of them know what the others were doing. And if they were smart, they didn’t spill it either.
“Do you know anybody else at the airport, or did you see anybody who might have killed Maxie Temple?”
“Blast you, Merak! I’ve just told you, I don’t know who rubbed him out.”
“And I think you do.”
He ran his tongue around his lips and made a little helpless gesture with his right hand.
“Clancy would kill me if he knew.”
“And I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me,” I warned him. “Remember that I’ve got the gun, not Clancy Snow.”
“I realise that.” He looked uncomfortable. “It could have been Alfred Madden. He was in the vicinity last night.”
“Madden? I remember him. Dutch McKnight’s muscleman. “So Dutch is in on it, too. I thought so.”
“You’ll never pin it on either of them, Merak.”
“Never mind about that. Where can I get hold of Madden?”
He shook his head. “Nobody knows where Madden goes after he’s finished the day job. Only Clancy Snow and Dutch. And you don’t expect them to tell you, do you?” He laughed harshly.
“No, but if I remember correctly, Madden had a girlfriend, didn’t he? I think I’ll look her up. Maybe she’ll be a little more cooperative than you.” I backed towards the door, never taking my eyes off him for a moment. He was a rat and there was no telling when he would turn. He made his pitch just when I thought he would, dropping to his knees as I opened the door and then lunging forward, clawing for my legs.
He was still reaching forward, eyes wide and arms outstretched, when I pulled the trigger and felt the gun jerk against my wrist.
He collapsed forward onto