Transcript

Chapter 15 · Bullet Proof

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Chapter fifteen of bullet Proof by Frank Kane. This LibriVox recording is in the
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public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter fifteen, Doc Travin drove.
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On the ride back to the city. Muggsy Keeley sat between him and Johnny
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Lidell on the front seat. Nobody did much talking until the car approached the
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Queen's Borough Bridge. How are we going to work this, Johnny, Doc
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Travin wanted to know. He swung the sedan into a line of trucks and
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cars converging on the bridge entrance. I don't know, Doc Lydell grunted.
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I've got to keep away from the DA's men until we've got something to fight
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with. If they serve me any kind of papers before then, I'm done.
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Why don't you hold up at my apartment until you're ready to go up
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against Eats, Johnny Muggsy suggested, I don't think he'd be crazy enough to
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try to crash there. Okay with you, Johnny Travin asked. Lydel nodded,
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Okay, Now hotta go Crosstown it fifty ninth, make it sixtieth,
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then you can hit Central Park South at fifth. Conversation lagged again. As
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the car separated from the stream of cars on the second Avenue side of the
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bridge. Fifteen minutes later, Doc Travin pulled his car to the curb in
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front of Muggsy's apartment. You leaned past, Muggsy opened the door. Suppose
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you two go up and have a sandwich. I'll be back in an hour
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or so, he consulted his watch. No self respecting burglar would break an
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enter much before midnight. Anyway, where are you goin? Lydell wanted to
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know. I think I'm gonna have a talk with Inspector Hurley he had headquarters,
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and tell him what you told me. He's a good guy to have
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on your side at a time like this. Lydell nodded, I'll go with
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you. Better not, Johnny the medical Examiner shook his head right now.
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You're in no spot to win any popularity contests down there. What's more,
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O the d A may get a brainstorm, pick you up and jug you
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just long enough for Docsiville to sweep up all the loose ends. I'll be
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back round eleven. Lydell permitted himself to be shoved out the door, stood
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on the curb and watched Doc Travin, said Anne Melton to the store rheam
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of traffic. Come on, Johnny, I'll fix you a drink, Muggsy
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invited you. Going up Muggs, he told her, I'll be back in
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about an hour. Where are you going? I'm going on that expedition I
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mentioned. You don't think i'd let Doc take the risk of going along.
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I'm already a dead duck as soon as deets can tag me. The worst
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that can happen to me now is that they throw the book at me.
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But it's worth to try. You're crazy, Johnny, Muggsy argued. Why'd
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you let Doc come all the way in from Carport unless you're going to let
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him go along? I need Doc, If my hunch is right, his
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being medical examiner of the old lady's hometown might speed things up. What about
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Hurley, he light el shrugged. I'll worry about Hurley. He when we
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get to him, he signaled a cruising cab. WinCE, does it screech
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to a stop at the curb. Have that drink ready, I'll probably need
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it by the time I get back. The cab dropped him at the corner
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of sixty fourth in Park, a block from the building housing Docsaville's office.
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There was nobody in the lobby as he walked in. He avoided the yellow
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climbed three flights of stairs to the office he had visited several days before.
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It was completely dark. He took out a ring of keys, tried several,
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found one that turned easily, walked into the doctor's office. He went
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through the door beside the receptionist's desk, walked straight to the cabinet where he
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had seen Docxaville place the X rays on Missus Merritt. With the questionable assistance
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of a cigarette lighter, he selected the proper envelope, stuck it in the
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waistband of his trousers, buttoned his coat over it. He closed the drawer,
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made sure there was no sign of his presence, walked through the two
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offices into the corridor. A half hour later, he was fitting his key
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into the lock on Muggsy Kielly's door. Muggsy came out of the kitchen to
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meet him. She had changed the royal blue house coat. Her thick blonde
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hair was caught behind the ears, with a matching ribbon allowed to cascade over
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her shoulders. Everything all right, Johnny Lydel nodded, tossed the Manila envelope
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on the table. So far. He consulted his watch, drive and call
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here. It's only nine thirty, he said. He wouldn't be here until
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midnight. Lydelk grinned crookedly. I have an idea that when he tells the
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story to Hurley, he he'll get faster action than he expects. He walked
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into the living room sank on to the couch with a sigh. How about
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that drink you started out to make an hour ago? Come in right up,
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Muggsy promised. She disappeared into the kitchen, returned with a tray loaded
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down with ice and glasses and a bottle of bourbon. She set it on
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the inn table, dumped some ice into each of the glasses, spilled a
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generous slug of bourbon over them. Get what you were after, Lydell nodded.
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I got what I was after. Whether it's what I need or not,
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it's a different story. He reached out, caught the girl by the
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hand, pulled her down into his lap. This may not go the way
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we hope it will, muggs He told her. So far the dice have
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all been loaded against us. If our luck doesn't change. He shrugged,
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grinned at her, kissed the side of her neck. She reached over,
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placed one of the glasses in his hand, took one for herself. In
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that case, maybe I'll get some attention. Ever since you've been on this
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one, I've gotten about as much attention as last week's newspaper. Lydell looked
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at his watch. It's only nine thirty and Doc isn't due back until twelve.
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That soon, she pouted. She reached up, opened his collar,
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loosened his tie. He certainly doesn't expect us to sit here and twill our
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thumbs until he gets here. They didn't. It was actually a quarter to
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twelve when the buzzer sounded. Lydell got up off the couch, walked to
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the phone, lifted the receiver off its hook. Yeah, he grunted,
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Okay, let him come up. He walked into the kitchen, ran the
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tap water, held a glass to his head. Who was it, Johnny
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Muggsy called in from the couch. Doc, he's on his way up.
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Water please. Muggsy reached over, snapped on the light, spilled a yellow
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gleam into the room. Lydell brought the glass to her picked up the bottle
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from the end table, spilled a little into his glass. A hair off
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the dog blamed downed, it shuddered, tastes like it too. Muggsies stifled
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a yawn, pulled her robe together. I'd better clean this up. She
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picked up the glasses, the melted bowl of eyes, the almost empty bottle,
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took them to the kitchen. Lydell had time to run his fingers through
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his hair, adjust his tie, and get back into his jacket. By
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the time the doorbell sounded. He walked over threw open the door. Inspector
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Hurley he stood, towering over Doc Travin in the corridor. He pushed past.
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Lydell stalked into the living room. The little medical examiner followed him in.
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Well, this is a surprise, Lydell grunted, I suppose you're all
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loaded down with warrants and everything. Stop talking, stupid, Lydell. Hurly,
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he growled, deets is after your hid, not me. I would
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have been over here hours ago if I wanted to find you. Curly,
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He's on our side, Johnny. I told him the whole story, Doc
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Travin said. Lydell's eyes shifted back to Hurley. He believe it, Curly,
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he growled, threw his hat on the couch, dropped down with a
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grunt. It sounds screwy, screwy enough to make sense. Why didn't you
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tell me all this? You didn't give me a chance. Anytime I tried
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to give you the score. You accused me of snowing you. You even
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tossed me to the da Okay, okay, So maybe I was wrong,
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Maybe you were leveling. The inspector found a fresh piece of gum in his
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pocket, denuded it of its wrapper. He nodded to Muggsy as she returned
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tray, fresh eyes and fresh bottle in hand. According to the doc,
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you got Seville Peggs, Matt Merritt's killer. Right Lydell nodded. But there's
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not a thing in what you gave, Doc that lets us move in on
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him, not a shred of evidence. Hurly, he growled, that's what
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we're going after, Hurly, he Doc Travin put in, Hurly, he
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growled. Let Muggsy pour him a drink, accepted it. It won't do
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you any good, Doc, This guy's too smart. The way he's covered
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up, he's left us nothing. Lydell walked out to the foyer, came
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back with four X ray negatives, handed them to Travin. What do you
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make of these? Doc? Doc Travin muttered under his breath, stood up,
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flattened the negatives against the lamp shade. He studied each one carefully,
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put them down. What the hell's this got to do with it? What
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about them? Travin picked them up, held them to the light again.
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Must have been a bad accident. The old woman's got a bad concussion over
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the right ear. The oldest kid's jaw is a bad fracture. The other
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kids a compound. Lydell caught the medical examiner by the shoulder. What do
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you mean the old woman, the young kid, and the other kid,
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Doc, They're all X rays are the same person. The medical Examiner's eyes
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didn't leave Lydell. He picked the plates up, subjected them to another scrutiny.
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Your nuts, Lydell. This one is the skull of an elderly person,
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probably a woman. This is the jaw an entirely different person, less
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than half the age of the first. And this is obviously the forearm of
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a youngster. He tossed the X rays on the table. What is all
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this? Those are the x rays. Docsaville claims he took of missus Merritt
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right after he took her into the hospital. Inspector Hurley, he looked from
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Lightell to Traven him back again. These figular injuries, why Lydell snapped his
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fingers, Take a look at them. A broken jaw so she can't talk.
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A skull fracture so he can claim she's unconscious. Even a compound fracture
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of the right arm so she can't write the answers to any questions. It's
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as clear as the nose on my face, Inspector, Missus Merrick knows something
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that Doc Saville doesn't want her to spell. Doc Travin groaned, what are
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we doing here? She's probably dead right now. Inspector Hurley, he looked
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worried. Why should they kill her? They think they're in the clear.
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They'd be better off waiting a couple of months and then letting a dive of
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natural causes. Doc Travin stamped the floor, swore, why should they?
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She has no close relatives to ask embarrassing questions. Doc Saville will just sign
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the desk certificate and the daughter will sign the burial for him. Then some
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undertaker pal of Saville's will cremate her and who's the wiser later on. If
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any questions are asked, they can always say it was the old girl's wish
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that the services be quiet and private. Hurley. He walked out to the
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foyer, picked up the phone, dialed headquarters. Never thought of that she
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might be dead already. He dropped his lip to the mouthpiece, gave an
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extension number. Then this is Inspector Hurley. Put a man to check vital
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statistics. See if a death certificate has been filed in the past week or
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ten days on Emma Merritt, Snap to it and call me at this number.
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He read the number off the instrument. He hung up the phone,
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sat twirling his thumbs. Nobody in the room spoke for the next ten minutes.
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Hurley he left the phone, started to pace the room, stopping only
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long enough to walk out on to the terrace, stared down at the network
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of lights that identified central Park. Muggsy went into the bedroom to apply a
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fresh coat of make up. Doc Travin sat staring moodily at the ceiling,
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and Lidell applied himself to a morose inspection of the tips of his shoes.
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The phone rang with a sudden piercing sharpness. Hurly, he grabbed it from
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its hook, held it to his ear. You're sure of that, he
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demanded. How far back did you go? Good stand By a moment,
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he held his hand over the mouthpiece. He hasn't been filed yet. That
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means the old still alive. We'd better get up to that sanitarium of his
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and make sure Seville doesn't rectify that oversight right away, Lydell growled. Hurley.
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He nodded, removed his hand from the phone. I want a car
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and four men ride away. We'll pick them up at the fifty seventh Street
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entrance to the west Side Drive, Lieutenant hop to it. The civille Sanitarium
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was a trim, two story stucco building sat behind a well manicured lawn on
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the outskirts of Bronxville. The big police sedan skidded to a stop in the
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crushed bluestone driveway. Inspector Hurley he jumped out, followed by Johnny Lidell and
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the medical examiner muggs Achille followed them up the stairs. More leisurely, Hurley
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he strode purposefully across the small lobby to where a colored boy sat behind a
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small switchboard. Sorry, mister, he said, visiting hours over long ago.
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You can't come in here this hour. What room's missus Meridan Hurley,
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he demanded. He flashed a shield under the boy's saucer sized eyes. This
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is police business. I don't know nothing about any police business, mister,
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he protested. I can't let you in without doctor Seville. Hurly. He
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reached over, caught the boy by the lapels of his white jacket, lifted
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him clear off his seat. I don't want to see doctor Seville, sonny.
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I ask what room Missus Merritt is in. What is it? The
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whites of the boy's eyes stood out against the blackness of his skin. His
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eyes rolled from face to face, ended on Hurley. He's I don't know.
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I'm only the relief man, mister Hurly. He pushed him back in
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his chair. Find out you've got a register of some kind of round.
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The boy nodded, opened the card file with shaking fingers, went through it.
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Missus Merritt, she's in sixty two, mister, Yes, sir,
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it's sixty two, Hurly. He nodded, spun on his heel, started
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down the corridor. The boy behind the switchboard, watched the four across the
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lobby. As soon as they had turned down the far corridor, he spun
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on his chair started plugging wires on the board. Room sixty two was almost
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in complete darkness. On the bed, a heavily bandaged figure lay, its
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features completely covered by white gauze, with only thin slits for eyes. The
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sheet rose and fell slightly with her breathing, but there was no other sign
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of life. Doctor Travin turned on the light over the bed. She's alive,
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isn't she, Doc Lighthell demanded fiercely in a low voice. Travin nodded,
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caught the limp arm that hung over the side of the bed, counted
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the poltse He scowled, walked to the foot of the bed, read the
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chart, replaced it. Fracture of the right arm, fracture jaw, and
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lateral fracture of the skull. He looked a hurry. He if any one
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of those injuries is a phony, as the fake X rays would indicate,
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we've got enough on Seville to warrant our taking any necessary steps. Well,
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let's stop talking and do something. Travin looked down to the right arm.
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It's in a cast. Ethically, I have no right to remove it without
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the consent of her physician. Ethics be damned. You have every moral and
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legal right take it off, Doc, I'll assume all responsibility, hurly,
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he said. The medical examiner looked at him, frowned, shrugged his shoulders.
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From an inside pocket, he pulled out a scalpel in the leather case.
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I'm not too sure about what's cooking, but from the smell, I'd
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say somebody's goose is cooked. I hope it's not ours. The only sound
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in the room was the tearing sound of the scalpel ripping through the cast.
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Lydell scuffled his shoe nervously. As the cast fell to the ground, they
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all leaned forward. Doc Travin took the woman's arm between his fingers, probed
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gently, then looked up at Hurley. He there's no more fracture here than
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I've got. He massaged the arm gently, held it under the light.
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But take a look here. The whiteness of the flesh was scarred by a
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score more tiny dots. Dope, hurly, he asked. Doc Travin nodded.
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I thought her pulse was funny. She's probably got a skinful of it.
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Let's do it, inspect her, Lydell demanded, hurly. He nodded,
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mord enough, Johnny, even deets will be satisfied with this one.
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He turned to Travin. Take the bandages off her head, Doc, and
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see how bad her skull and jaw really are. If the jaw isn't broken,
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she'll be able to tell us what did happen that night. Lydell exulted,
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I wouldn't count on it. A new voice interrupted, no, Doctor,
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I wouldn't move if I were you. Lidell went for his forty five,
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thought better of it at the sight of the thirty eight in Saville's hand.
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The hand was steady, the muzzle of the gun loomed as big as
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a cannon, pointed right at his belly. His hand frozen mid air.
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Doctor Saville's thick black hair was slightly disarranged, and a thin film of perspiration
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beat at his forehead. He showed no other signs of apprehension. I suppose
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you realize that his trespassers, I am perfectly within my rights to shoot you.
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You inspector, have no right to invade my privacy without a search warrant.
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You doctor have no right, either medical or legal, to interfere with
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my patient, Inspector Hurley. He motioned to the figure on the bed,
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right or no right. We're removing your patient to another hospital, doctor,
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and would taken you one on suspicion of murder. I wouldn't bake on that,
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Inspector. The dark man raised his gun until the blank eye of its
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barrel looked hurry he in the eye. I'm afraid that neither you nor the
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bark of the gun. In the small room was a sharp, malicious spat.
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The slug caught Seville in the side of the head, spun him half
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around. He tried to regain his balance. There was a second spat,
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and he was slammed back against the wall to slide to a sitting position.
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He was dead by the time Doc Travin reached him. Who did it?
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Travin demanded. Lydell pointed to the figure on the bed, a thirty two
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in hand holding herself half erect on her elbow. Hurly, he picked the
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telephone off the night table, barked a few instructions in it. Better get
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the bandages off of face, doc, he ordered. Doc Travin nodded,
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helped the woman on the bed to a sitting position. He took the thirty
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two from her nerveless fingers, laid it on the night table. From a
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pocket, he brought out a pair of surgical scissors, inserted the blunt end
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under the bandages and cut them away. The open like the shell of an
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egg, fell away to reveal a youthful face. That's not missus Merritt?
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Who is it? Lydell demanded. The girl on the bed shook her head.
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I'm Jean Merritt. They kept me here so I couldn't go through with
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the investigation. Lydell cursed under his breath. What a perfect place to hide
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her? Why didn't I think o that? Thank god you came, Thank
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god you came. The girl in the bed murmured. Her shoulders shook as
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she wept. Yer mother, miss Merrit, where is she dead? They
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killed her? She pointed to the dead man on the floor. He did
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it. He killed her, just like he killed my father. Y're sure
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what you say? And miss Merrit Hurley, he asked gently. The girl
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nodded. My mother caught him. He had to fix it. So she
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couldn't talk. He threw her down the stairs and brought her here so she
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couldn't tell what she knew. She lifted a tear stained face to Hurley.
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He they told me if I didn't come, they'd kill her. But when
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I got here, she was already dead. They put the bandages on me
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and kept me here. She dropped her face, covered it with her hands.
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It was a nightmare. Lydell sat on the edge of the bed.
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I'm Lydell, miss Merrit. You hired my agency to look into this for
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you. The girl nodded. I thought they killed you. I heard Seville
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tell those others to do it. She shook her head helplessly. I thought
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I was all alone. I I had no one else to turn to,
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no one. Where'd you get the gun you used on Saville, Miss Merrit,
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Hurley, he asked. He picked it up with a handkerchief, wrapped
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it, dropped it into his jacket pocket. It was his. I I
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saw him put it in the desk one night. I've had it here,
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trying to get up enough nerve to kill myself, but but I didn't have
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the courage. She stole a terrified look at the bulge and Hurley his pocket.
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I I never handled a gun before. I'm terrified of them. But
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when I saw that he was going to get away with it again, I
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I just pulled the trigger. Doc Travin stepped in motioned them back. I
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think Miss Merritt needs a little rest. Gentlemen, you can talk to her
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in a day or two, but she's in no condition to answer your questions.
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Now he herded them to the door. I'll stay on here until everything
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is cleared away. End of chapter fifteen.