rate hereabouts. Thought I might check a little and see if strict enforcement like you and Burke handed out last night does cut them down.”
“You kidding?” Grimes was ready to grin at the joke, but Shayne remained perfectly serious. “Hell, no,” Grimes said after a moment. “We have our fair share, I reckon. Just last night we had a hit-run outside town.”
“That so?” Shayne displayed a slight interest. “Just last night when you wouldn’t let me drive? Fatal?”
“Neck and back was busted.” Harry brought a full glass of beer and Grimes nodded his thanks to Shayne. “Not that it was any great loss,” he went on thoughtfully. “We can get along without Mule easy.”
“You mean it was a mule that was killed?”
Grimes guffawed at that. “Naw. Fellow they call Mule Larsen. Hangs around town doing odd jobs for drinks. And I mean odd more’n one way if you get what I mean.”
“Tough?”
“Plenty tough. Been hauled in three times I know of for beating guys up. One of ’em died, but they couldn’t prove Mule did it.”
“A quiet little place like this,” said Shayne thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t think there’d be any real crime problem. Like anybody to require the services of this Mule you speak of and his ‘odd’ jobs. I suppose you meant rough stuff by that.”
“Yeh.” Grimes turned his glass slowly on the table in front of him. “You get stuff like that anywhere, I guess. No matter how big or little the town. Hell, I started out as constable in Lemon Acres, population four hundred and seventy-two. Had a bootlegging syndicate there, by golly, that had more hoods on the payroll than people in church on Sunday. You just can’t never tell.”
“But bootlegging’s out now. Nothing like that in Brockton.”
“There’s always something undercover for the fast-money boys to shoot at. And where there’s big money involved, you always get your ‘protection’.”
There was a note in George Grimes’ voice that led Shayne to drop that particular subject before the patrolman clammed up on him. Grimes was eager for casual shoptalk with the city detective, but if he got the idea there was a reason behind Shayne’s questions he was unlikely to be so free with his generalities.
Shayne took time to empty his glass and catch Harry’s attention to signal for two more, though Grimes protested weakly that two beers were enough for him.
“This isn’t important and I don’t expect it to be anything official,” Shayne said casually, “but while I’m in Brockton I wonder if you know anything about a hood who’s supposed to headquarter around here. First name of Gene, I think.” He proceeded to describe the leader of the three men who had attacked him the preceding night, watching for Grimes’ reactions carefully as he did so. “I just remember I ran into some dope on him in Miami recently,” he ended. “Not my case, but something the cops were bothered about.”
Grimes recognized Gene’s description. There was no doubt about that in Shayne’s mind as he watched the patrolman’s face. But he wasn’t giving much away either. When Shayne finished, he said, “I think maybe I’ve seen him around, all right, but I don’t believe we’ve got any record on him. Some guys like that keep clean in their hideaways and pull all their jobs outside.”
“Sure, I know. What brought it to my mind was I saw a man in that bar last night. You know, the one where you and your friend Burke tagged me. Reminded me of the fellow I asked about. Just what kind of joint was that anyhow?” he added ingenuously. “I just stopped in for a drink by accident. Got the impression a lot of tough boys hung out there.”
Grimes shrugged broad shoulders, hunched over his third beer. “One of half a dozen places in town we keep an eye on. Jasper Black runs it pretty quiet and we don’t bother him. He’s the bartender. I wouldn’t want to flash a big roll there late at night and take too many drinks. Man
“You kidding?” Grimes was ready to grin at the joke, but Shayne remained perfectly serious. “Hell, no,” Grimes said after a moment. “We have our fair share, I reckon. Just last night we had a hit-run outside town.”
“That so?” Shayne displayed a slight interest. “Just last night when you wouldn’t let me drive? Fatal?”
“Neck and back was busted.” Harry brought a full glass of beer and Grimes nodded his thanks to Shayne. “Not that it was any great loss,” he went on thoughtfully. “We can get along without Mule easy.”
“You mean it was a mule that was killed?”
Grimes guffawed at that. “Naw. Fellow they call Mule Larsen. Hangs around town doing odd jobs for drinks. And I mean odd more’n one way if you get what I mean.”
“Tough?”
“Plenty tough. Been hauled in three times I know of for beating guys up. One of ’em died, but they couldn’t prove Mule did it.”
“A quiet little place like this,” said Shayne thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t think there’d be any real crime problem. Like anybody to require the services of this Mule you speak of and his ‘odd’ jobs. I suppose you meant rough stuff by that.”
“Yeh.” Grimes turned his glass slowly on the table in front of him. “You get stuff like that anywhere, I guess. No matter how big or little the town. Hell, I started out as constable in Lemon Acres, population four hundred and seventy-two. Had a bootlegging syndicate there, by golly, that had more hoods on the payroll than people in church on Sunday. You just can’t never tell.”
“But bootlegging’s out now. Nothing like that in Brockton.”
“There’s always something undercover for the fast-money boys to shoot at. And where there’s big money involved, you always get your ‘protection’.”
There was a note in George Grimes’ voice that led Shayne to drop that particular subject before the patrolman clammed up on him. Grimes was eager for casual shoptalk with the city detective, but if he got the idea there was a reason behind Shayne’s questions he was unlikely to be so free with his generalities.
Shayne took time to empty his glass and catch Harry’s attention to signal for two more, though Grimes protested weakly that two beers were enough for him.
“This isn’t important and I don’t expect it to be anything official,” Shayne said casually, “but while I’m in Brockton I wonder if you know anything about a hood who’s supposed to headquarter around here. First name of Gene, I think.” He proceeded to describe the leader of the three men who had attacked him the preceding night, watching for Grimes’ reactions carefully as he did so. “I just remember I ran into some dope on him in Miami recently,” he ended. “Not my case, but something the cops were bothered about.”
Grimes recognized Gene’s description. There was no doubt about that in Shayne’s mind as he watched the patrolman’s face. But he wasn’t giving much away either. When Shayne finished, he said, “I think maybe I’ve seen him around, all right, but I don’t believe we’ve got any record on him. Some guys like that keep clean in their hideaways and pull all their jobs outside.”
“Sure, I know. What brought it to my mind was I saw a man in that bar last night. You know, the one where you and your friend Burke tagged me. Reminded me of the fellow I asked about. Just what kind of joint was that anyhow?” he added ingenuously. “I just stopped in for a drink by accident. Got the impression a lot of tough boys hung out there.”
Grimes shrugged broad shoulders, hunched over his third beer. “One of half a dozen places in town we keep an eye on. Jasper Black runs it pretty quiet and we don’t bother him. He’s the bartender. I wouldn’t want to flash a big roll there late at night and take too many drinks. Man
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