Transcript

Chapter 12 · Bullet Proof

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Chapter twelve of bullet Proof by Frank Kane. The slibrivox recording is in the
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public domain. Read by Ben Tucker, Chapter twelve. The ambulance garage for
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the hospital was in the back of the building, facing on east side Drive
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in the river, reached by a long inclined ramp. A short, fat
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man his bay window resting comfortably on his belt, a blue uniform hat on
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the back of a bald head, stood leaning against a shiny, sleek new
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ambulance. He watched Lidell approach with no visible change of expression, continued to
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execute a delicate operation on a moler with the ragged end of a toothpick.
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I'm looking for a driver named Vinnie, Lydell told him. The short man
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nodded, that's me. His bright blue eyes flicked over. Lilydell seemed to
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hesitate a moment at the left lapel, where an almost imperceptible bulge was there
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to be seen by an experienced eye. You, the one in the office,
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called about Yeah, Lydell told him, what's on your mind? The
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short man was fat, but it wasn't a soft, doughy fat. It
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was muscle that had been allowed to run to fat but it was still muscle.
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He could have been fifty, looked forty. Lydell dug his wallet from
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his pocket, held the press card out. I'm digging some stuff for a
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feature article. Lydell told him, Morris, he thought you could help.
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The blue eyes flicked over the press card seemed unimpressed, like, for instance,
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little instance, touches of color, anything that will dress up an article
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and bring en Sivolaro to life for our readers. Tony an Salvolaro. Eh.
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The short man pulled the toothpick from between his teeth, took a last
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look at the frayed end, flipped it to the concrete floor. What's the
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beef against the kid? No beef, I just want to do a story
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on him. The driver nodded toward Lydell's left lapel. Then's when to report
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his go round? Carry an iron? Lydell grinned, yeah, pretty sharp,
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Vinny, I didn't know it showed. He sized the little man up,
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decided to play it straight. I always carry one sometimes my racket.
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You have to. You step on toes and you got to carry some authority
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or you get pushed around. It figures. The fat man conceded, what
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about Tony Lydell shrugged. He's been doing all right for himself. Office On
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Park, private hospital up in Westchester. How's that set him up for a
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ride up? There's hundreds of dot got the same setup, maybe, But
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he's the only one who's scheduled to marry the only child to one of the
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richest men in the country. That makes some news. Then he pulled a
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cigarette from behind his ear, fitted to the corner of his mouth. So
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he played his cards right. Eh, feels like he said he would.
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Lydell held a lighter to the other man's cigarette, watched him suck it into
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life. Ambitious. Ay, he knew what he wanted. What was that
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money? Plenty of money, Lydell nodded, Most poor kids do. He
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came from a poor family, didn't He family never had a dime live down
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here on the east side Mulberry Street. Tony hated everything connected with poverty in
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the east Side. The short took a deep drag on his cigarette, blew
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the smoke in twin streams through his nostrils. He even hated the poor slobs
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that came here to the clinic. Hated them because they were poor. He
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used to say he could smell their poverty, and the smell made him sick.
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Was he popular with the staff? Then he shook his head, kept
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to himself pretty much. Only one he spent any time with was a little
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redhead on mail surgery. The bright blue eyes squinted. Laura Malleson, I
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think her name was. She left just before Tony did. Always had it
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figured she went with him. Do you spend much time on the ambulance same
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as the others? No more, no less? All in turns rotate one
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month, they ride bus the next, maybe in admissions, then the whole
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swing. Mail, medicine, accident, mail surgery, all of them.
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He stood his trick on them all. You got to know him pretty well
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while he was riding bus with you. The fat man shrugged. He used
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to like to ride with me. We got two buses and two wind turns
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on call. Like I said, if I was in Tony would always jump
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mine Lydell nodded. Pretty exciting riding the bus down this part of town.
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I guess. Plenty of stabbings and shootings. He looked up from the envelope
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where he had been jotting notes. Plenty of everything. People getting born a
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dyin' all the time. How about some famous people that you picked up with
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Ann Sevalaro? Any one interesting? Depends on what you call famous down here.
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The biggest excitement we get his gang stuff. Used to get a lot
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more of it years ago. It's sort of tapering off now. They got
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it too well organized. Wasn't that garage masker pulled in this district Pete Valley?
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You mean then he took a last drag on his cigarette, dropped it
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to the floor, crushed it out. Yeah, we picked him up.
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Tony did a good job on him, saved his life. Kit really knew
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his stuff, you know, so I understand Lydell put his envelope and pencil
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into his pocket. Guess Pete was pretty grateful to the dock eh. Then
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he shrugged. I don't know if he ever saw him again. I thought
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you said Ann Sevalaro saved his life. He did, stopped him from bleeding
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to death in the street. But the man on the bus doesn't take care
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of the cases he brings in. They go right into the services. Lydell
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frowned over it. Seen on Savalaro since he left or heard from him?
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Vinny once the short man nodded about three four months after he left, wanted
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me to drive for him. He pushed the uniform cap back on his head,
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scratched the ball of pate. I had to turn him down. I
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couldn't see giving up a civil service job to work for a kid fresh out
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internship. Maybe I didn't play it as smart as I thought. You can
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never tell. Lydell agreed. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket,
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consulted his notes. You say the nurse's name was Mellicon, Laura Melleson.
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The fat man nodded. I got a funny idea that she want to find
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her. All you gotta do is ask Tony. I still think she left
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to go with him. The red head in the outer office was still pecking
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haphazardly at the keys of her typewriter when Lydel walked in. She had substituted
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a loose fitting white silk peasant blouse for her customary sweater, but it did
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not to disguise her assets. She looked up, followed him with her eyes
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as he slammed through to his private office. He tossed his hat at the
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coach tree, dropped into the swovel chair behind the desk, gave the mail
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a fast shuffle. I haven't heard from Jean Merritt by any chance, Pinky,
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he called out to the girl. Not a peep her check clear,
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though I checked the bank this morning. She appeared in the doorway, her
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notebook in hand, walked over to the desk with a disconcerting motion of her
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hips. There's been some other calls. Want to hear about them, Lydell
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nodded, leaned back. The Masterson's out in great Neck. Want a man
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for five days to keep an eye on wedding presents for their daughter next Wednesday
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through Sunday. I told him we'd have a man there. Lydell groaned.
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As long as it isn't me, Pinky nodded. I already ranged to borrow
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an out from lou Blake. He'll cost us ten a day. We're getting
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thirty five, okay, Lydell nodded. After what I've been through on this
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Merrit job, I'm beginning to think that play a nurse maid to a raft
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of ten coffee pots is a nice clean way to make a living. Pinky
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nodded. Miss Keey called wants you to call her as soon as you get
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in. That's about all anything new on your end. Lydell shook his head.
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There'll probably be a call from Albany if I'm not here. Take the
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message. It's about a registered nurse named Laura Malleson. I want to know
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where she is now, check anything else, not right now. If Muggsy
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calls again, tell her. The ringing of the phone cut him off.
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He scooped the receiver off the hook, held it to his ears. The
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operator informed him that she had a call for him. After a moment,
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mister Lydell, this is the State Board of Registration at Albany. He placed
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to call here this afternoon to request some information. That's right Lydell nodded about
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a registered nurse named Laura Malleson. Have you got it for me? I'm
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very sorry, the receiver told him. The last year of registration of miss
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Malleson's nurse license was nineteen forty two. We have no record of her since
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that time. Lydell cursed under his breath. Could she be nursing in another
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state? The receiver hesitated. It's possible, but in cases of reciprocal granting
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of licenses by other states, there is usually some notice given to the state
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of original license. We have no such notation on miss Melleson, nor do
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we have any indication that she served with the armed forces during the last war.
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Lydell nodded, thanks very much. I'm sorry we couldn't be of more
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help. The line went dead Lydell dropped his receiver back on its hook,
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glared at the instrument. Bad news. I'm getting used to. It wasn't
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too important anyhow. I was just trying to check something I'm pretty sure of
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anyway. He laced his fingers behind his head, stared up at the ceiling.
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This damned case. It's almost like somebody is looking over my shoulder figure
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my next move and beating me to it. Pinky Cluck sympathetically smoothed her skirt
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over her thighs with a practiced motion. Lydell continued to stare at the ceiling.
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I wonder why she let her registration lapse. Most nurses don't, even
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if they don't figure on going back to nursing. He dropped his eyes to
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the redhead scowled, I've got an idea, but he wouldn't be that careless.
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He chewed on his lower lip, nodded just the same. I'm about
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right for a break in this case. He reached over lifted the receiver off
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its hook, dialed a number. After a moment, a pert voice informed
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him the events. Good afternoon, Jim Keeley on the desk, He told
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her. When moment please, she chirped. Then a heavy voice growled,
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desk, let me talk to Jim Keeley. Will you This is Johnny Lidell.
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This is Jim. Johnny, what's up? I need a fast check
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on vital statistics, Jim, would your city hall man give me a lift?
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The receiver hesitated. Oh guess so, Johnny. Nothing much breaking down
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there right now? What's the check? A marriage license in the name of
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Anthony Seville and Laura Malleson, or maybe the groom's name is listed as and
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Savalaro should be in nineteen thirty nine or nineteen forty, preferably forty. Where
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are you now, Johnny? My office. I'll wait here for your call.
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Likely to be long, depends. I'll get back too, as soon
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as we get anything. By the way, what's in it for us?
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A good yarn? I think Mugs knows the score to date, and if
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it breaks, you'll have the works all wrapped up for you. Sounds good.
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Drop by and let's see you one of these days, Johnny, it's
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been a long time. Lydel nodded, dropped the receiver back on the hook,
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sighed. He reached down to the bottom drawer brought up a bottle and
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two glasses. Well, while we're waiting, there's no reason we can't be
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comfortable. Sit down, Pinky, and relax. The redhead looked doubtful,
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shrugged, walked over, dropped into the client's chair. This is no way
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to run a business office. You know it can be a lot of fun,
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though. He poured a stiff drink into each glass, handed one to
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the red head. Pinky took the glass, grinned, made a half hearted
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effort at pulling her skirt down over her knees. Gave it up as a
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bad job. In business school, they told me there'd always be days like
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this. What's wrong with the little relaxation? Nothing, I guess it's just
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that I'm still an employee and you're my employer. Lydel nodded held his glass
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up in a toast. Here's to more and better employer employee relations. The
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redhead lifted her glass, sipped at the contents, studied him over the rim.
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You're kind of crazy, you know, you don't have to be crazy
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to get into this racket, but it does give you a head start.
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He scowled at the phone as it jangled, nodded for the red head to
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answer it. She walked over to his side lifted the receiver from its hook.
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Johnny Lydell Agency, she said, Inspector Herlecky. She glanced at Lydell
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inquiringly, received a nod. Just a minute, Inspector, I'll get mister
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Lydell for you. Lydell slid his arm around her waist tried to pull her
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down on to his lap. She wriggled out of his grasp, leaving him
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with only a phone in his hand. He grinned ruefully put it to his
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ear. Hello, Inspector Herleye's voice was gruff, impatient. You're in trouble
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now, Lydell, serious trouble, Lydell sighed, What I do now?
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Unwarranted invasion of privacy? Anyway, that's what the DA is going to try
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to tag you with. Doctor Seville spent the last hour with him in his
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off says, you're apparently trying to put a shake on him. That's a
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cock eyed lie. Maybe that's why I'm tipping you off. You may still
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be able to call off the dogs. I don't like to see any guy
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hound it out of a job unless he's got it coming to him. Thanks,
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Inspector, don't thank me, you never even heard from me. Just
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get yourself straightened away with deats in the dock, otherwise you're out. Lydell
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nodded. I'll do what I can. Thanks for the tip. He returned
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the phone to its cradle, glared at it, swore under his breath,
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more trapple. They're really turning the heat on now, Pinky. They've got
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the das steamed up to lift my license. I must be worrying them.
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He chewed on the side of his thumbnail, considered, what are you going
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to do? Lydel shrugged. I've got to get something to fight back with.
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I know the old man was murdered, but that doesn't do any good
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until I can prove it. With Doc Seville tossing his weight around, I'm
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a dead duck unless I come up with something awful soon, an awful good.
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He finished the drink, put the glass back in the bottom drawer.
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Call Mugsy, tell her to meet me at Luigi's in about an hour.
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Pinky. From here on in and I've got to keep moving so they can't
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tag me with a writ. I'll keep in touch with you by phone.
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But the telephone jangled again. Light l picked it up, answered in a
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guarded tone, is light Eld there? This is Johnny Harris of the Advance.
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Hello, Harris, what's up? Got the dope you one from the
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old man, Johnny. There was a pause, then Anthony Joseph and Savalaro
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and Laura Jane Mellison were married at City Hall on September second, nineteen forty.
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That's what you want, light El nodded, jotted the information down.
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That's my boy. Remind me to buy you a drink. Next time I
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see you drink, Hell, I'll buy you the whole bottle. This I've
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got to see. Harrison chuckled. See here, realm. Pinky leaned across
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the desk excidedly, the folds and the peasant blouse filling out with breath taking
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effect. Got something, Lightel nodded, depressed the button on the phone,
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pulled an envelope from his pocket, found the telephone number he was looking for,
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started dialing. I've got that club I wanted. Baby. Maybe I
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can still hold them off, he told a voice that answered that he wanted
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to talk to doctor Sabyl. After a few moments, a silky voice came
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on, doctor Sabyl, this is Lydell. Doc. I understand you've been
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making some complaints about me down at the DA's office. The receiver nodded,
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that's right. Your unwarranted invasion of my privacy has become annoying. I intend
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to stop it. Just a mine invading your privacy. Doc. The receiver
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snorted that clumsy masquerade as a reporter delving into my background for one thing.
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Lydell considered it. Agreed, it was pretty clumsy, but it was never
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intended to win an Academy award. It served its purpose, and the purpose
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to prove that doctor Anthony and Savalaro and doctor Tony Saville are one and the
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same person. Of course, you could have gotten the same information from the
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Hall of Records. The change in name is quite plainly recorded, so is
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your marriage to Laura Malleson. Doc. There was a short pause. Then
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I don't see that has anything to do with you, Lydell. I might
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since your plannin to marry Jean Merritt. The state is a very narrow minded
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about begamy, since when is it bigamy for a widower to re mary?
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My first wife, Laura has been dead since nineteen forty Fivelydell made a fast
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recovery from the body blow died just about the time you met Jean Merritt.
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Interesting, isn't it? Yes, very, But I'm afraid you won't be
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finding out how the story ends, since, according to the district Attorney,
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you may not only lose your license, but could conceivably end up in jail
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as well if you persist in this malicious invasion of my privacy. End of
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Chapter twelve.