Chapter 9

The field wasn't that close. They drove out of Portchester and sped down the Parkways to the Washington bridge. Crossed the Bridge to Jersey and pulled onto route 46 to Teeterboro Airport.

Nocky parked the car and they walked to a two sealer warming up in front of a hangar.

They climbed in and fastened their safety belts. Nocky taxied out to the line ... received his instructions and took off.

They made two stops for refueling before reaching their destination.

The plane settled itself on the narrow strip. Doyle climbed out first. He put a cigarette between his lips as Terry Scott jumped from the cockpit.

A mechanic with a greasy rag in his hip pocket came up to them. He jerked his thumb at the plane. "Does this go into the hangar?"

"No," Doyle said. I'll be taking off in an hour." He lit the cigarette. "There should be a car here."

"On the other side of the hangar," the mechanic said, and walked away.

Doyle and Terry circled the hangar. There was a light blue car with a man leaning against the fender. The man looked sullen; he had a thick mustache, small, beady eyes, florid face. He watched the two men approach. "Hi, Nocky," he said. He looked Terry over carefully. "Is this the new border?"

"That's right," Doyle said. "Terry Scott, Lonny Coe."

"No bags?" Coe said.

"I like to travel light," Terry said.

"I guess we can fix you up," Coe said. "I can always get something from town." He turned to Doyle. "Have a good flight?"

"Not too bad," Doyle said.

Coe opened the car door, said to Terry. "We may as well get started."

Terry said to Doyle, "Take it easy," and got into the car.

"Sure," Doyle said. He winked at Terry. "You're going to have a ball."

Coe got behind the wheel and gunned the motor. The car made a tight U turn and took off.

"Have you got a rod?" Coe asked.

"Nope. Why?"

"You'd have to hand it over," Coe explained. "Only the guards are allowed to carry guns."

"Guards?"

"Sure. Guards. I'm a guard. It's our job to make sure there's no trouble. You can't run the den without guards. And we have to keep the girls in line. They get kind of wild. Leona can't handle them by herself."

"Leona?"

"Leona Gay. She's in charge of the broads. If you want a particular piece for the night you go see Leona."

"Why can't I see the dame myself?" Terry asked, more out of curiosity.

"Some joker may have already asked for her. It's up to Leona to dish out the dames. Otherwise the guests might fight among themselves for some particular broad."

"How many girls are there?"

"Six, not counting Leona."

"And ... guests?"

"Eleven. Twelve, with you."

"Twelve. That's not much."

"A couple are on vacation." Coe turned to Terry, and winked. "Get it?"

"You mean they're on a job?"

"That's exactly what I mean. They ran out of loot so they went out on a job. They need fresh bread."

"They must plan to stay with you forever."

"They got it made. They're safe at the Den. Sure, they take a chance going out to do a job but it's necessary if they want their comfort."

"What if a guest wants to leave the country?"

"It can be arranged. We don't keep anyone against his will. You come and go as you please."

"In other words," Terry said, "I can visit the nearest town if I choose."

"Uh uh. That's out. Too close to home. The Feds would get curious about what some big shot mobster was doing in a town like Fleetwod. They'd send some investigator to Fleetwood and snoop."

"Why send an investigator? Isn't there a local Fed in the town?"

"Nope. Just a Marshall. Nearest Feds are in Denver. That's a good thirty miles away."

"So what happens to a guest when he wants to depart?" Terry wanted to know.

"One of the pilots flies him out."

"You have more than one pilot?"

"We have two. Nocky and Tailspin Tommy."

Terry saw a town sprawled out to his right. There were shacks, cabins, yards, wooden fences, yelping dogs. "Is that Fleetwood?"

"Yep. Doesn't look like much, does it?"

"No. It looks like North Zulch."

"There are some modern buildings in the center of town," Coe said. "The bank, the post office, one hotel, an insurance company, two drug stores. There are thousands of towns like Fleetwood spread across the country."

Fleetwood was left behind and ahead of them was desert.

The sun was high and glaring.

The car rounded a hump and there, ahead of them, was the Den of Iniquity. It was a sprawling ranch-type-structure. There was foliage, lush and green. There was a heart-shaped pool with a high diving board. There were men and women in lounge chairs around the pool. Terry counted six men and four women. One man was in the pool. Some faces turned to stare as the car went past and stopped in front of the main house. There were two other buildings flanking the House.

Terry later learned that one of the buildings housed the girls and the other one housed the guards.

They climbed out of the car and Terry followed Coe into the house.

There was a big front room with divans, overstuffed armchairs, snake plants, cactus, thick rugs. There was a door marked private. Coe knocked on the door and a gruff voice said, "Come on in." Coe opened the door and he and Terry walked in.

"It was a small room with a desk and two chairs. Behind the desk sat a man about fifty. He had dark hair, a pushed-in nose, wide eyes. There was a long slim cigar in his mouth.

"Okay," the man said, and Lonny Coe left the room.

The man stood up. "My name is Donny Gall," he announced. "I run this dump." He put out his hand and Terry shook it. "Sit down. Make yourself at home. Want a cigar, a cigarette?"

Terry Scott sat. He took out cigarettes. "I have my own, thanks."

"Did you give Coe your rod?"

"I wasn't carrying one." Terry lit his cigarette. "Oh?" Gall sat down. "Is there anything you want me to keep for you?"

"Like what?"

Gall shrugged his shoulders. "Bonds."

"I can manage, thank you."

"I've a strong safe."

"It's okay."

"Suit yourself." Gall rolled the cigar about in his mouth. "You're paid up for ten days. I hope you enjoy your visit."

"I'm sure I will."

"Do you have luggage?"

"No," Terry said.

"One of the boys will go into town and get you what you need." Gall said. "It's extra. We don't provide extras. But we do provide bathing suits and trunks. Take advantage of the pool. The water is changed every day."

"I know I'll be happy and comfortable."

"I call the place the Den of Iniquity. Naturally, after you leave here, I'll have to trust you won't say anything about this place."

"My lips are sealed." Terry said.

"Good. You have room 69. Just go along the corridor and you'll find it. One of the guards will be with you shortly; you'll tell him what clothes he should buy for you." Gall stood up and so did Terry. They shook hands and Terry went out.

It was a nice-sized room. The bedroom set was light wood. There was a bathroom connecting, with blue and white tile and a shower stall.

To the left of the dresser was a liquor cabinet. Terry filled a glass with bourbon and sipped. He sat in a deep armchair and waited.

Presently, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Terry said.

A guard walked in. He had on cord pants and a short sleeve polo shirt. "Hi," he said. "My name is Rocky Cirboni. You want something from town?" He was tall, slim, black-haired.

"Clothes," Terry said.

"Just give me the measurements," Rocky said. He produced a pad and pencil. He wrote down Terry's measurements. "Two pairs of slacks, four shirts, one pair of loafers, underwear, and a dozen handkerchiefs. Okay. I'll lay out the dough; you can pay me when I get back."

Terry watched him leave, then went back to his bourbon. He finished the glass, filled it up again. There was another knock on the door. "It's open," Terry said.

A woman about thirty walked in. She was tall with black hair cut short. She had on a pair of slacks and a white blouse. "I'm Leona Gay," she said. "And you're Terry Scott." Her voice was cool, aloof.

"Yes," Terry said. "Won't you sit down?"

She sat. "Do you know my function here?"

"I've been told," Terry said blandly.

"There are two girls available tonight," she said.

"DO you want one?"

"I don't think so."

She cocked an eyebrow. "It's part of the service."

"I'm not in the mood. Perhaps tomorrow night."

She suddenly smiled. "You stopped off at Dolly's didn't you? I should have guessed sooner."

"I won't commit myself," Terry said firmly.

"You don't have to," she said. "All right, Terry. Is it all right if I call you Terry?"

"Certainly."

"I have a room in one of the small houses," she informed him. "Whenever you want a broad, come and see me. I'll fix it. You noticed the two smaller houses, didn't you?"

"Yes".

"The girls have their rooms in one of them. The gray one. My room number is 34. Just knock. If I'm not in I'll be either at the pool or in the recreation hall."

"Where's the recreation hall?"

"In this building," She said. "There's billiards, card tables, dice tables, and a roulette wheel. If I'm there I'll be at one of the card tables." She stood up. "You will let me know if you want a broad, won't you?"

"Of course."

"We aim to please, and the broads swing anyway you want."

"Would you like a drink?" Terry started to get up.

"It's all right; I'll help myself." She went to the liquor cabinet and found a bottle of scotch. "You have better manners than the others," she observed.

"I'm an educated crook."

"How nice," She sipped at the scotch. "Why didn't you let Donny keep the hop for you? He won't steal it."

"Don't I have any secrets"

"If Hans knows, then Donny knows."

"Who's the boss of this outfit?" Terry asked. "Donny or Hans? Or is there someone else?"

"Why so curious?"

"I was born curious?"

"Does it really make any difference?"

"I suppose not," Terry said.

"Well, I'd better be shoving off." She finished the scotch, put the glass aside. She went to the door. "There is someone else. You'll meet him tonight." She went out.

Terry looked around the room. Well, he thought to himself, I'm a lonely Daniel in a den full of ferocious lions.