Make My Coffin Strong (A William R. Cox Hardboiled Thriller) by William R. Cox

Author:William R. Cox
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, murder mystery, violence, corruption, new york, hard boiled, crime thriller, mystery books, james ellroy, piccadilly publishing
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Fourteen

SENATOR JOE MCCARTHY and the two newest alphabetic bombs were all over the papers the next day and poor Mrs. Murphy received scant notices.

He must remember to have Carraway arrange for a decent funeral, Steve thought. He put bills in an envelope and mailed it to the Jersey cop, going out to the mail chute in the hall in his robe. When he re-entered the apartment his telephone was ringing.

It was Jack Barr. “Hiya, gambler. Tried to get you last night for a game.”

Steve said, “Had a date with a female woman type. What about tonight? We could play here.”

“I’d like to see your place,” Barr said. “Got room for six?”

“Yeah, but no room for November to fall down after you hit him,” Steve said. “Make him promise to be good if you bring him.”

“I’m not about to bring him, see him, or play with him, the bum,” Barr said emphatically. “I can get a bunch without him.”

“Make it early.”

“Seven o’clock. Say, Steve, I got a tip for you.”

“Yeah? I don’t bet horses.”

There was a moment’s pause. Then Barr said incredulously, “You don’t what?”

“I never bet horses.” Steve kept his voice natural, laughed a little. “Just don’t care for the races, that’s all.”

Barr said, “I never heard of a gambler who didn’t bet horses.”

“I’ve been away, remember? I don’t like ’em, Jack. Too many angles.” He was very careful now. “Of course, if you’re on the inside, it’s different.”

“I wouldn’t know any horses by their first name,” Barr said quickly. “Anyway, my tip’s on a fight.”

“That’s different,” Steve said promptly. “Fights I like.”

“They just set up a bout between Georgie Appleton and some new kid from out West,” Barr said. “This Appleton is murder. You’ll have to give some odds, but get down on him.”

“Who’s the short-ender?”

“Hock, Hack, something like that. It’s a push, Steve. This Appleton is great.”

“Thanks, I’ll take a look at him.”

“Look, schnook, I’m telling you! I know fights, pal, don’t I?”

“O.K., you know fights,” Steve said. “Thanks, anyway.”

“See you at seven, boy.” Barr hung up.

Such a pleasant guy, Steve thought. Giving me the word on Appleton. They must have moved fast, making the bout. Guess it was pretty well set when Socker got into it.

He called Socker. He said, “Barr’s already getting down on Appleton. He let me in on it.”

“You didn’t bet him?”

“I’m not that dumb. Will you come over here, Socker? Something bad happened last night in Jersey.”

“Shhhh!” Socker hesitated, then said, “You shouldn’t gamble with them Jersey boys. And don’t talk about it—they’re murder. I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Socker broke the connection. Steve frowned. Had he been wrong to talk to Socker on the telephone? Surely his wire wasn’t tapped... He remembered the board downstairs and the girl in attendance. Socker was being overcautious; he had inherited a private outside line with the apartment.

He thought about the gamblers, the ones with whom he would be dealing directly, even tonight, here in his own home. A strange breed, from his direct experience. Restless, always seeking a new interest, like kids looking for sensations.

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