Read Online Barbary Street Incident, A John Cronin Private Eye Short Story by Wolf Wootan - Free Book Online Page B

into the poolroom.
    She had on a tan trench coat over a red
suit. She had a cloth tied around her head; it was sopping wet. She
was small, but long-boned. Her features were pleasant enough, but
there was an underlying hardness which I detected in her pale eyes
and tight, thin lips. I had seen her off and on all day. That’s
what made me uneasy. She was following us.
    She sat down on a stool and ordered a beer.
She didn’t drink much, just sipped. Little Caesar didn’t seem to
recognize her, so I figured she was to tip the “boys” off when we
got to a suitable place for them to bump him off.
    She crossed her legs. The drops of water
glistened as they ran slowly down her stockingless calves.
    “Deal me out,” I told the dealer. I stood up
and picked up my money. I hadn’t won much; I hadn’t been ready yet,
but the girl in the tan coat and red suit changed things. I laughed
to myself; dressed in red, just like the dame that stooled on
Dillinger. Quite a coincidence.

    Little Caesar was playing pool with a
beady-eyed kid, laughing like a lion when he made a good shot,
which was nearly every time. Nobody would have thought he expected
to get the honor spot in a killing that night. I tapped him on the
elbow. I couldn’t reach his shoulder without sending sharp pains
through my arm—and motioned for him to follow me. I walked towards
the room marked MEN, but before we got there, I opened the back
door and stepped into the dark alley. I put my overcoat on, which I
had picked up on the way out, and guided Little Caesar down the
alley to Mission Street. He didn’t ask any questions until we got
to Broad Street. Then he only remarked, “There ain’t no use
running. The boys will only catch up with me anyhow. They knew
where I was. Mona’s been tailing us all day. I kinda like Mona.
She’s pretty, too.”
    So he had known she was following us—and
hadn’t said a word! I shivered all over. What in hell went on in
that big hulk’s brain? I’d always figured I was pretty tough and
full of courage, but Caesar made me seem like a coward.
    We walked clear down to where Barbary meets
Bay, keeping to the alleys most of the way. There was a small joint
there, a dinge joint, but they weren’t too strict about keeping
whites out. We went in and sat down in a booth facing the front so
I could watch the door. Caesar drank beer, but I just sat tensely
and watched the door.
    I had picked the dinge joint because I
thought that that would get Mona off the track. Even if she found
us there, I didn’t think she’d come in, because it had a reputation
of being a tough joint; besides it was a colored joint. I was wrong
on both counts. About 11:30 P.M. she came in, still sopping wet. It
was raining hard now. The sea was rough, too. I could hear the
smashing waves throwing themselves against the fishing smacks tied
up to the wharf. They grated the dinghies against each other,
causing a screeching sound. I could hear the dismal, lonely sound
of a fog horn somewhere out on the bay.
    Mona walked in without hesitancy, going
straight to the bar. She took off her wet trench coat and threw it
onto the warped bar. She smoothed her red suit over her body,
showing off a good set of curves. She climbed up on a stool and
drank rye.
    A couple of big Negroes in the back of the
joint looked her over and conversed in low tones. Then they got up
and walked to the bar; she ignored them. They didn’t leave, so she
moved to another stool. They followed. The black behind the bar
fidgeted nervously. Caesar and I took it all in.
    I thought maybe she would finally leave if
they bothered her enough. She was stubborn though. Finally the two
Negroes started getting rough with her. They started pawing her
with their big, greasy black hands. I couldn’t stand that. I got up
and walked over to them. I tapped the ugliest one on the shoulder.
He turned and looked me in the eye. The bartender was nervously
polishing glasses.
    “What you want, small boy?” grinned