The Giant Kill by Kin Platt

Author:Kin Platt [Platt, Kin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4405-4045-5
Publisher: Prologue Books
Published: 1974-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Camino shoved a stick of gum in his mouth. “I hope these are on the level,” he said. “I’d hate to think of you going to all that trouble rounding up three masks just to prove your point.”

“The only trouble I had was in convincing Belmont’s niece we needed them for evidence.”

Camino lifted his eyebrows. “We?”

“They came off the same boat, Nick. Owned by Belmont. The Dakar Doll. Same one the hoods brought me to, and where I got the order from the Chinese gent from Burma.”

“So you say,” Camino said. “But if Belmont leased his boat to outsiders, he’s not responsible. Which brings me to my point. Evidence of what? Nobody else heard your story, which makes it hearsay, not admissible in court. You say they picked you up, knocked you out, gave you an ultimatum. A man in your line gets a lot of that treatment. I can’t see the D.A. getting excited over it.”

“But those are the guys who knocked off Gonzaga.”

“Prove it,” Camino said. “I’d like to believe it. All you have to do is find them and bring them in.”

“That all?”

“Alive would be better.”

It took me two lights to realize I was being tailed. I let them come up and didn’t try to lose them. They weren’t novices and held back, merely keeping in touch. I tried to make out the guy at the wheel; it could have been the crewman I busted. The man beside him wore a hat, not too popular an item with the Angeleno natives.

I swung away from downtown traffic and cut right, letting out a little. They jumped the car between us and came on fast, trying to close the gap. I led them toward Little Tokyo and worried them some jumping a light. They were close behind me as I swung off Los Angeles Street into an alley. I knew the alley was dead-end, if they didn’t. I braked fast and swung the heap around and when they came in I had them before they knew it.

They had come in swinging wide on the right side and I drove my heap right at them, pinning them to the alley wall. I had my hand out, my gun on the driver’s nose. The man on his right couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Drop it!” I said, and he dropped it. The driver was the crewman I had surprised earlier. His eyes were frightened, but not very many are happy looking into a gun. “Where’s Gomez?” I asked.

His eyes rolled, trying to find the man on his right. I leaned in the open window and pulled him closer to the muzzle. The extra inch didn’t make him any deader than he was before, but when you’re bullying somebody the little tricks help. “Gomez,” I repeated. “You speak English?”

He managed a sickly smile. “Sí, señor. I spik.”

I felt a little stupid waving the gun, but then I remembered Gonzaga. He hadn’t even had that favor. “I’m looking for Señor Gomez. Louis Gomez. He rented that ship.

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