Shots Fired, Three Men Down
When we got to my apartment building, Lieutenant Sanders was waiting outside. I handed Max a sawbuck and told him to get lost, fast. I searched up and down the street for the car that had been tailing me earlier. I didn't see it. It meant one of two things; either they hadn't gotten here yet, or they took a different vehicle, but I didn't see anyone on the street that resembled the two mooks following me. The Lieutenant approached me looking around also.
“You expecting visitors?” he asked.
“That’s why you’re here,” I said. “There are two or possibly three gentlemen interested in Mr. Hart's health.”
“They want him healthy?” he asked.
“More likely they want to be the cause of his sudden death,” I replied.
We turned and entered the lobby of the residential hotel. I opened my coat and pulled out my revolver. I carried it at my side, cocking the hammer. The hotel was quiet and the click echoed. The Lieutenant put his hand on his gun, but he kept it holstered for the time being. He felt more secure than I did. The night manager looked up from his newspaper and slowly closed it and started to reach for the phone. The Lieutenant flashed his badge and the manager put the phone back down. He slid down in his chair and moved it out of sight. I looked up at the stairs; they were empty, the elevator door was closed and it wasn't running. We headed for the stairs.
The trip up to the second floor was uneventful, but something didn't seem quite right. We started down the hall, passed the elevator, and arrived at my room. I knocked on the door.
“Hey, Hart, it's Watcher and Lieutenant Sanders. Go ahead and open up,” I said.
“What's the password,” he said from the other side.
“There isn't any stupid password, you idiot,” I said.
The lock clicked and Hart yelled out, “The guy earlier didn't know that!”
The elevator door was closed on the main floor, that was what was wrong! If the elevator wasn't running, it should have been on the main floor with its door opened. That meant it was being held on another floor! I kicked the door to the apartment open, knocking Hart back onto his ass. I grabbed Lieutenant Sanders by the arm and pulled him into the room as the first sounds of gunshots echoed in the hallway. Sanders swore in pain as we cleared the doorway. I swung him towards the bed, turned and faced the door raising the Colt.
The first man was quick to get into the room. As he filled the doorway I aimed at the middle of his chest and pulled the trigger. His face showed surprise as the slug tore into his chest and sent him backward into the hall.
A second man was stopped outside the door and started to swing his gun in and start firing. From behind me, I could hear Sanders swearing as he fired several shots from his automatic. That caused the second shooter to throw himself back against the wall just outside the door. It was his second mistake. I cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger of the Colt three times, aiming at the wall the man was hiding behind. When he realized what I was doing, Lieutenant Sanders followed suit. The thud from outside the room confirmed the second shooter was down. I broke open the Colt and exchanged cylinders.
I looked back at Sanders as he stood up, he was bleeding from his left arm, but he seemed okay.
“There's a third shooter,” he whispered. “He started out of the closet in the hall; he still has to be there. We're between him and a clean exit.”
He moved to the side of the doorway, and I joined him.
“Let's make him run,” I said quietly.
“There's another shooter on the right!” I yelled.
“Let's jump out and fill the hallway with lead,” Sanders shouted.
Our quarry yelled “I'm outta here!” out in the hallway, and he ran past the doorway. It was the chauffeur, Joseph.
I stepped out as he was running for the stairs and aimed high on his back.”
“Alive, if you please,” said Sanders.
I lowered my Colt.
“Right cheek,” he said.
I took aim and fired once. It was enough. It caught the man and spun him and he lost his footing, falling down at the head of the stairs. He dropped his gun. I stepped quickly over him and cocked the hammer. He turned and looked at me, then he looked at his gun. He started reaching for it.
“I wouldn't do that if I was you,” I said.
“You've only got six shots in that thing, you haven't had time to reload,” he replied.
“You take a real good look at the cylinder in this revolver,” I said, “then you decide your next move.”
He looked at his gun for a moment, then he turned his head towards me. He squinted his eyes, focusing on my gun, then his eyes widened and he slowly pulled his hand away from his own gun.
“How?” he asked.
“I may show you sometime,” I said.
The Lieutenant walked up and kicked the gun even farther away. He brought his own weapon up and pointed it at Joseph's head.
“You mind cuffing him to a banister?” he said, holding out his handcuffs to me.
I holstered my weapon, took the handcuffs, and dragged Joseph over to the railing support post and handcuffed his arms around it.
“Hey, I'm bleeding here, you sons of bitches, you shot me in the ass.”
“I'm bleeding, too,” said the Lieutenant. “So quit your bellyaching. Watcher, collect their weapons, would you? I need to sit down."
While I collected the weapons, Lieutenant Sanders walked back into my room. I stood at the top of the stairs and looked down. The night manager was peeking up from behind the reception desk. I walked back to my room.
“Have Hart wrap your arm up while I call the precinct,” I said. “We'll need an ambulance and a bus for these guys.”
Uniforms were the first on the scene, followed quickly by the men with the ambulance. Joseph was complaining that he wasn't being seen quick enough and when they tended to his wound he complained even more about the snickering. The officers were talking to the Lieutenant and me, and Joseph kept yelling he had something to say. Lieutenant Sanders walked over to him.
“Is he okay to travel?” he asked.
“No, I'm shot,” said Joseph.
The ambulance attendant said his wound was leaking, and someone would need to remove the bullet at the hospital.
“You want to remove the handcuffs, so we can take him?” the attendant asked.
The Lieutenant waved a couple of uniforms over. “Joseph, your name is Joseph, right?”
“Up Yours, flatfoot,” said Joseph.
“Well, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer,” said Sanders. “These two officers are going with you in the ambulance.”
He turned the two officers. “If he shows any signs of escape or agitation, you shoot him again.”
Joseph started to say something, but he looked at the two officers and thought better to remain silent. Lieutenant Sanders took off the handcuffs so Joseph could be freed from the railing, then he handcuffed his hands behind him.
“He won't be very comfortable on the stretcher like that,” said one of the attendants.
“He won't hurt anyone either,” replied Sanders. “Including himself.”
The men from the Coroner's Office showed up as Joseph was being taken away. Lieutenant Sanders pointed at the two dead men in the hall and they went to deal with them. The Coroner came up in the elevator, walked out, and came over to me. “Three in less than forty-eight hours; that may be a record,” he said.
“One of them may be mine,” said Sanders, “Watcher shouldn’t get all the credit.”
I motioned for the Lieutenant to come over and talk to me.
“We need Hart to be somewhere else for now. I tried to send my cab away, but I know he's still down there. Okay if I have him take Hart to the office.”
“How do you know he's still here?” asked the Lieutenant.
“Because I can see him down in the lobby,” I replied.
The Lieutenant looked around, everyone seemed busy. He walked to the railing and Max waved. The Lieutenant returned to me shaking his head.
“How is it that you’ve been in business such a short time, and you seem to already have an army behind you?”
“My winning personality?”
“What's the problem?” he asked.
“Someone has been one step ahead, knowing my movements. I would rather Hart was not involved officially until we know who’s pulling the strings.”
Sanders nodded. He beckoned Hart to come over.
“There is a cab downstairs, the driver is Max. Don't ask. He's in the lobby. Have him take you to my office, see you get in okay. Then have him come back here for me,” I said.
I gave Hart the office key and pushed him on his way. He went downstairs to Max who waved he understood, and they left.
“What makes you think, someone won't notice him now?” Sanders asked.
“Too many cops, I don't think anyone really knows what he looks like, and Max could lose a tail in this town faster than anyone I know.”
“As soon as the Sergeant on duty shows up, I'm off to the emergency room. The ambulance driver waiting for me is about to have apoplexy.”
No sooner had he uttered the comment than Sergeant Simon came bounding up the stairs He spotted me first and started in with accusations until Lieutenant Sanders stepped into his line of vision. He stuttered over the rest of his words and I really didn't hear or understand what he was saying.
“Simon, why are you here?” asked Lieutenant Sanders.“This is not your shift.”
“I heard the call,” he said, “and figured you would need my help.”
“Try not to be an ass,” Sanders said. “Mr. Watcher may have very well saved my life in this little encounter, so I would take it as a personal favor if you would take his statement and try not to piss him off. I am off to the hospital to get this arm looked after, and I would very much like to see Mr. Watcher arrive there for me to talk to before I go home. Do you think you could manage that for me.”
“Uh, sure, Lieutenant,” Simon said.
I wish I could report that after Lieutenant Sanders left, my interview with Simon was one of mutual respect, but it is difficult to have any respect where there was none. On the positive side, I didn't add another body for the bus to take to the morgue.
I gave Simon the relevant facts excluding the existence of Richard Hart, or the fact that the two dead mooks had been following me earlier. I identified Joseph as Mrs. Stanton's chauffeur. Since I didn’t know the other two, I could honestly swear I had not seen them before tonight. Simon suspected that I was holding something back, but I looked down at the clock in the lobby, and innocently asked how long the Lieutenant might be at the hospital.
“Yeah, yeah, get outta here,” said Simon. “But don't leave town.”
“Where am I gonna go?” I asked. “This is the only home I got.”
I smiled and headed down the stairs. Max was by the door in the lobby. As I approached he handed me my office key.
“Your boy is in the inner office, tucked in for the night. No one was interested in our movements when we left here, and no one paid attention when we went up,” said Max.
“Thanks, Max. Can you take me to the hospital, and then back to my office.”
“I'm gonna earn a week's pay off of you in one night. I'll take you anywhere you want to go.”
We left the lobby and climbed into Max's cab. The ride to the hospital was uneventful, which should have told me that the fickle bitches weren't done with me just yet. I left Max waiting outside. He settled down in the front seat to nap while I checked in on Lieutenant Sanders.
