The Unexpected Visit
The whole story broke the following morning. Under a headline that blared," KIDNAPPED L.A. INFORMANT SLAIN, POLICE BELIEVE", were photos of the missing Baxter Shorter, and of Emmett Perkins, Jack Santo, and Barbara Graham, who were now officially wanted on suspicion of murder in the Mabel Monohan case. In addition, Perkins, having been identified by Olivia Shorter, was wanted for the kidnapping of Baxter Shorter.
On the following Saturday night, late in the evening, Los Angeles police detective Dick Ruble was lounging in his ground floor apartment in pajamas and robe when his doorbell rang. When Ruble opened the door, there stood his old friend Emmett Perkins.
"I want to talk to you, Dick," Perkins said nervously.
"Come on in," Ruble said. Perkins shook his head.
"Out here. My car’s at the curb."
"Okay," Ruble said. He had no reason to fear Perkins; they had a working relationship the rules of which neither man had breached in thirteen years. Still, Ruble felt a tad uneasy. He was unarmed, in his robe and slippers, and Perkins was now wanted for murder and kidnapping, and knew it. Then again, Perkins could not have known that Ruble was working with Burbank police on the case. So Ruble decided to play it tough. Perkins did too.
"What’s all this heat on me for’" Perkins demanded as soon as they got in the car, Ruble in the back seat, Perkins in the front passenger seat. A woman was behind the wheel.
"You brought the heat on yourself, you crazy bastard!" Ruble snapped. "You and I both know you were in on the Monohan murder! You dumb son of a bitch, I never thought you’d go a route like that!"
"It wasn’t supposed to turn out the way it did!" Perkins defended.
"Why’d you people have to beat that poor old woman like you did’" Ruble accused.
"The old gal just wouldn’t shut up, Dick! Babs slugged her four or five times and the old bitch just kept hollering."
Now the woman behind the wheel turned around in her seat and Ruble saw that it was Barbara Graham. "They’ll never prove we did it," she said coldly. "Even if they know we did it, they’ll never be able to convict us!"
Ruble glared at her in the light of the dashboard. "I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Babs," he said evenly.
"Now look, Dick, you and me have always been straight with each other," Perkins reasoned. "I never pulled a single caper on you here in Los Angeles. I’ve stayed out of your precinct and kept our agreement. Now look, I can scrape up a hundred grand to square the Monohan beef. I just want to know how to go about it."
"You could scrape up a million and it wouldn’t square the Monohan beef, Perk," the detective told him. "Besides, you’ve been fingered for the Shorter kidnapping, too."
"That woman, Olivia Shorter, is a goddamned dirty liar!" Perkins raged. "She can’t identify me!"
"Look, Perk, I’ve never lied to you," said Ruble, softening his tone a little. "You’re in the worst fix of your life. I’m telling you straight up, there’s no way you can walk away from this. Smartest thing for you to do is go in and give yourself up."
"Maybe you’re right," the homely little man said quietly, slumping back against the seat. "But I’ve got a few things to straighten out first. Look, I’ll get in touch with you Monday, Dick, and maybe I’ll come in and give myself up to you personally."
Ruble got out of the car and it sped away. He was unable to make out the license number, but within minutes he had ordered an All Points Bulletin for a two-tone green four-door Oldsmobile being driven by a woman with long chestnut hair, carrying a male passenger with an egg-shaped head and jug-handle ears, both possibly armed, both definitely dangerous.
Despite the quick alert, however, the car and its occupants disappeared into the cool California evening.
Emmett Perkins failed to surrender the following Monday.
No comments:
Post a Comment