Chapter 6
Bull stopped shouting and pulled his head back into the lobby. Shouldn't do that, he told himself. Ought to keep my mouth shut.
He found that he was trembling. It was one of the few times in the past dozen years that he'd found himself put on his back. That kid, he would never have thought he had it in him. He'd caught Bull completely off guard, and he moved so damned fast that Bull hadn't even seen what was happening. All he knew was that something was happening, then his head had cleared and he was looking up at the kid.
Crazy kid, he should have murdered the punk. If he'd hit Richard just once, just one good one, he would have snapped him like a dry twig. The kid wouldn't have had a chance, not the chance of a snowball in hell.
He opened the inner door and started up the stairs to the second floor. He tried to make a joke of the incident as he went toward his apartment. Imagine that kid thinking he could lean on Bull Chapman! And saying that he'd kill him! He never came so close to getting murdered himself! He was just lucky, that's all! Still, the little twerp did show some spunk. Give the crazy kid his due.
He entered his apartment-two and a half rooms with a pullman kitchen in the foyer. He pulled up the screen on the kitchen and opened a quart of blended whiskey. He took a long swallow. There seemed to be a little motor whirring in his interior, and it didn't want to stop. It made him feel like pounding and clutching at things.
To think that that little punk would take a poke at big Bull Chapman!
That damned little witch must have spilled the whole works to him. What the hell did she have to do a thing like that for! She got her boy friend off the hook, and he wasn't talking to her old man, was he, and what more did she want, for God's sake!
Besides, she had loved that.
But, God, what if he had picked the wrong pigeon?
This Bristol kid's family, they were big. So was the Dale outfit big around here, maybe bigger than the Bristols, he didn't know. Together or apart, they threw around a hell of a lot of weight.
Maybe this Bristol punk was really dangerous. If he started poking around and found some things out. So far nobody had squealed, but anybody will sing if the price is high enough, and these people were rich. They wouldn't even have to find the real game; people like that in a small town like Adamsville could hang a frame on you as easy as A-B-C.
Maybe Richard wasn't alone in this. Surely he wouldn't have the guts to come snooping around Bull Chapman on his own, not a college punk like that.
Of course that kill-you business was just talk. But if the kid did do something crazy, his money would probably get him out of it. That's the way it was with these fancy people. Always giving a hard time to guys like Bull Chapman.
The kid must have something in mind to go snooping around like this.
Feeling hot and sweaty, Bull went into the bathroom. Automatically, he looked into the mirror. There was a raw looking place on his right jawbone and another on his left cheek. A broad red trickle which he hadn't even felt ran from his right nostril to his mouth, and for the first time he realized what the salty taste on his tongue was.
So the kid had actually drawn blood, huh?
That settled it. He hadn't been kidding when he said he was going to lay that little witch again.
The next morning, Joe Harrison was just going off duty when Bull entered the squad room. The two men were alone. They exchanged short nods and said nothing. Bull went to his locker and began getting into harness.
He wondered if he would run into the Bristol kid again today. He rather hoped that he would. Given half a chance, he'd run the little bugger off the streets. Nobody was in a position to harrass Bull Chapman, let alone swing on him, and the sooner he taught the kid that, the better. No need to let him think that just because his folks drank the more expensive brands of Scotch he could get away with monkeying with Bull. Yeah, he'd like to run into the kid.
Or, better yet, into Laura Dale, "Bull."
"Yeah?" It was Harrison, stepping over a bench and coming toward him.
"There's something maybe I ought to tell you."
"So say it." As far as Bull was concerned Harrison could say nothing worth listening to, but nothing.
Harrison hesitated, chewing the comer of his mouth.
"You got something to say, Harrison, say it, for God's sake," Bull commanded irritably.
Harrison shrugged and started to turn away. "Okay, it's no skin off my nose."
"Wait a minute! What have you got on your mind, Harrison?"
Harrison turned back again. "I wouldn't even mention it, except we work on the same force."
Bull suppressed an impulse to jeer. He said, "Sure we do, three years now."
"And somebody's been sort of asking questions about the force, and he seemed most interested in you-"
Something like a fist grabbed Bull Chapman's heart, and he couldn't hold the words back: "Who? Who's been asking about me?"
"Take it easy. Just a friend of mine-"
"I asked you who, damn it!"
Harrison's cheeks colored. "I said a friend of mine! I thought I ought to warn you-"
"Warn me, you louse? Who's this friend you're in with?"
"I'm not in with anybody-"
"It wouldn't be the Bristol kid, would it? Richard Bristol?"
Harrison was staring at him. "Maybe it was. What did you do to him, Bull?"
"None of your damn business. Nothing! Did he send you around here-"
"Hell, I work here, Bull! I only mentioned it because we work together-"
"Aargh!" With an expression of contempt, Bull shot out a flatiron palm at Harrison's chest. It connected hard, harder than Bull had intended. Harrison reeled backward, tripped on a bench, slammed loudly into a row of lockers, and fell to the floor.
For a moment Bull froze. His control was slipping and he didn't know what to do about it. He could get into trouble over a little thing like this.
He walked over to where Harrison had fallen. The man hadn't moved, but when Bull looked down on him, his eyes were open. And they burned with hatred.
"Sorry," Bull said, extending a hand to help Harrison up. "Accident."
Harrison ignored the proffered hand and climbed to his feet.
"Okay," Bull said, "I apologized, didn't I?" Harrison didn't look at him. He dusted off his slacks and left the room without a word. "Sorehead!" Bull yelled after him. God, he thought, they're ganging up on me....
"Richard," his mother's voice came up the stairs and into his room. "There's someone here to see you."
It wasn't Laura or his mother would have said so. It flashed through his mind that it might be Chapman, but that didn't make sense. Without wondering further, he got off his bed and started down stairs.
He had lapsed into numbness. He had walked into a dead end, both in reference to doing something about Chapman and in his emotional state. He had believed his intuition that he was going to kill the man, and he had meant it when he made his threat in the lobby of the apartment building-or rather he had believed the voice he'd heard coldly saying, I'm going to kill you. But now all that seemed a hundred years past, part of a dream. He felt as cold and numb and emotionally drained as his voice had been.
His caller was Joe Harrison. Richard took a couple of quarts of beer out of the refrigerator, and they went out onto the back steps to talk.
"You still interested in Bull Chapman?" Harrison asked.
"Yes."
"I've decided I owe him nothing. I think he wants it that way, so he can have it that way. Shall I tell you about him?"
"I'd appreciate it."
As it turned out, Harrison had very little that was solid to offer. Bull Chapman didn't seek popularity with his fellow officers, and he didn't get it. He was the perpetual stranger on the force. Everyone would just as soon have gotten rid of him if possible, but on the whole he did his work well, though sometimes with unnecessary harshness. Now and then, he'd come in full of buddy-buddy spirit, but it rang false and it never lasted long. He was given to sudden shifts of mood, and he might be full of the old Santa Claus for ten minutes and abruptly turn sullen and mean. For the most part, he simply went his own silent way and let others go theirs.
"What about female companionship?" Richard asked.
"I don't really know. Every now and then he gets one of these jolly streaks and hints broadly about what ladies' man he is and how this dame or that one maybe isn't as pure as she makes out to be, and then he gets a real foul mouth. He's supposed to have a girl friend on the sly-Lily Wylie. Maybe you remember her. She was in high school with us, a year ahead of me. She was Lily Masters then. She's married to Tad Wylie, a real troublemaker, works at the foundry and hangs out at Brownie's Tavern all the time."
Richard didn't place either Lily or Tad. "What about those rumors about blackmailing women?"
Harrison frowned down at his beer. "Well, like I said, that's an old story. There have been rumors around here, and naturally everybody who knows him thinks about Bull." He looked up at Richard. "There was a widow who hanged herself a couple of years ago. You may remember. There was a stink because she left a note saying a policeman made her do it, but it got out she was crazy. There've been other things-like you asking questions." He looked down at his beer again. "If you ever tried to take care of a guy like that, Dick, I think I'd look the other way, so let's just say our little talks have never happened. My God, I think I'd help you kill the guy myself!"
When Bull Chapman returned to Adamsville, Lily Masters was twenty-one years old. When he first noticed her, she was twenty-two. She had married Tad Wylie, and they had moved into a house on Hudson Street, right around the comer from Brownie's place and handy to the foundry.
She was a hell of a good-looking woman. About five feet seven, she was well filled out; she had dark eyes and a mass of dark, naturally curly hair which she kept brushed to a sheen. She liked to wear dark slacks which hugged her well-rounded buttocks and white shirts tailored to emphasize her full high bosom. They were tight enough to show her bra and cut low enough in front to reveal a bit of lace.
She and Tad frequently visited Brownie's together, and Tad always seemed to have an eye on her. Nobody blamed him; she was a woman whom, once known, no man would want to lose. A couple of men had lost teeth for getting too fresh with Lily while Tad was around. He was a tall husky hooligan type with a temper that was next door to murder, and when he'd had a few drinks, he didn't mind taking on the house.
The trouble for the male population was that Lily was hard to resist. Not only was she extremely attractive, but she had a wild good humor, a raucous laugh, and an up from under-look-with-a-smile that promised all kinds of delights to a man if he ever managed to get her alone. She might be dancing with some guy to Brownie's juke box, Tad paying little attention other than to urge Lily to "show 'em how, baby." But if the guy got a little too close to her or if his hand strayed or if he looked at her in the wrong way, two minutes later he wouldn't be fit to feed to the dogs.
Bull started hanging around Brownie's, and he noted all this-from the size of Lily's boobs to the size of Tad's jealousy. He noticed other things as well. He saw that Lily wasn't always under Tad's eye. Very often, Tad would show up at Brownie's alone. At other times, Lily would arrive with him but leave early. He noticed prowling around on the side. Maybe Lily was all tease that, jealous as he was of Lily, Tad wasn't adverse to and no action, with her skin-tight slacks and shirts, but if she wasn't, there must have been nights when Tad left her starved.
Bull watched and noted everything.
Of course, Lily wasn't the only dame he had in mind. She was just one possibility out of a number. Bull not only found occasional fair game, but he had more than one dame, married and single, who was willing to take care of him. But Lily was such a good-looking dame that he tended to single her out and, by hanging around Brownie's, he managed to pick up a nodding acquaintance with her and Tad.
The more he watched, the more he became convinced that Lily wasn't losing much when Tad stepped out on her; she managed to get her share of the action. And he waited to get his share of that, too.
He had to wait a good many months before he got his chance, but the time finally came. Lily and Tad showed up at Brownie's one May evening, and Tad proceeded to get loaded. Lily seemed to be getting loaded too, though as far as Bull could see, she was drinking very little. After about three hours, she began groggily to complain that she was tired and wanted Tad to take her home. Tad, however, was in the mood to keep the party going, if possible all night. A couple of dames of dubious status who hung out at the joint suggested that the party be carried to their place, and Tad was all for it. He told Lily to stop bugging him and go on home to bed, if she had to be a party-pooper. Lily whined drunken complaints, but did as she had been told. Twenty minutes later, Tad and some others took off for the dames' place.
Bull remained behind. He observed all of it and was part of none of it.
He nursed his beer while a few people came and went, then left as unobtrusively as possible himself.
He looked in front of the Wylie house. The only light he saw came from a side window. Tad's MG wasn't parked out front. Then he went around the comer, made sure that he was unobserved, and entered the alley that led behind the house. He looked into the garage, and the MG wasn't there either.
He cautiously crossed the scruffy back yard and climbed one end of the steps onto the back porch. Except for the screen, the back door was open, and the kitchen was in darkness. He pulled at the screen very carefully. It was unhooked, and he eased it open a fraction of an inch at a time, though without wasting an instant.
He entered the kitchen and eased the screen closed again. Floor boards creaked as he crossed the room, but he held the noise to a minimum. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and soon he could see quite well. He spotted the hall and entered it. A few yards away, a partly open door showed a faint light the same light Bull had seen from outside.
He heard something: the creak of a bed spring.
He listened carefully, and he heard more. Lily's voice hissing urgently, "Hurry! I need you! Don't stop now, go ahead. That's great, ah, sweetie! Oh, more, more!" And then a pause. "Finished already?"
Bull hurriedly pulled back into the kitchen. He moved to one side, away from the doors and the windows and squatted down in a comer.
He heard a few scurrying sounds, and a moment later a man he recognized as Mike Treyfus, another foundry worker who hung out at Brownie's, quickly crossed the kitchen and went out the back door.
Just as quickly, Bull straightened up and entered the hall. He went to the bedroom door and looked in.
"Hello, Lily."
"What the hell!"
She was still lying on the bed, one naked leg dangling over the side. Her shirt was open and her unhooked bra was up around her neck. Her slacks and panties hung from the ankle that was on the bed. Her figure was all that her clothing had promised it would be. Her boobs were great round white balls with large pink-brown buttons sticking way out. They hung from a narrow, deep chest above a thin waist, which in turn led to wide hips. Her long legs were neatly tapered. Bull, already excited, took her all in as he leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed on his chest.
Lily sat up and started pulling her panties and slacks back on. "You better get your frame out of here. Bull Chapman!" she said angrily. "If my husband catches you here "He's out for the night."
"You can't tell! You can't tell what he might do!"
"To you, Lily?"
"To you, you louse!"
"I don't think so. He may be grateful when I tell him how you've been cheating on him and give him names and dates. Like Mike Treyfus tonight. He's not going to doubt the word of an honest cop like me-"
"Why, you louse!"
"Now, don't say that. I'm not an unreasonable man. I'm willing to make a deal."
"Blackmail? I haven't got any money-"
"Who said anything about money?"
Lily was now standing before him, struggling to get her clothing up. She had pulled her panties and slacks to the tops of her legs. Bull took three quick steps forward, and clutched her.
Lily pulled back as if he bad burned her. "You filthy louse." She swung her left hand up solidly against his cheek. Then she reached for a pair of shears that glittered on a bedside table under a lamp.
Bull grabbed her by the wrist and the throat and shook her. "Drop that, Lily! Drop that!"
The twin blades fell to the floor. At the same time, her clothing began to slide back down her legs.
"Kick those pants off, Lily." He gave her another shake. "Get 'em off."
Lily kicked free of her slacks and panties.
"You're hurting me, you louse!"
"Are you going to do what I want-to keep my mouth shut?"
She nodded.
Still holding her wrist and her throat, Bull made her sit down on the edge of the bed. "Open my clothes," he ordered.
She did as she was told. She took a deep breath and reached out to touch him.
"You like this, eh? You're going to love this."
He made her lie back on the bed, and again she had one leg up, the other hanging to the floor. He pulled a foot free of his clothing and placed a knee on the bed. He released his grip on her throat and brought his hand to one breast, flipping her bra out of the way. For a moment he caressed the breast, squeezing and pinching, making the pink-brown tip stick out further than ever.
Her eyes dimmed. He released her wrist and brought that hand to the other breast. Then he brought his first hand down.
He grinned. "You're ready, Lily. I guess you've been ready for a long time. Maybe you're always ready."
"Yes," she murmured, reaching for him. He bent his knees and half sat on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He allowed her very slowly to do what she wanted.
He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled that off, and tossed it on the bed beside them. Lily looked at his naked body. He grinned and flexed his muscles, making them twitch and dance.
"How do you like that, Lily?"
She sighed. "You bum. How do you like that? You never had things so good."
"Neither have you, baby."
He reached for her breasts, took them with hard hands, and squeezed them. Then he came forward onto his elbows and took one bulging tip to his mouth.
"Damn you, Bull Chapman," she murmured, "live up to your name. Be a bull. I want to know what that's like to have a bull."
Bull worked. He took his time, exercising more control than he ever had before in his life, and she gave him as good as he was able to give. He managed to keep going past her first peak and bring her to her second before his own end-pleasure took over.
Afterward, she looked at him and grinned. "You're not bad," she said. "You're better than most of my husband's friends."
She became his one steady woman, the nearest thing he had to a friend. He confided freely in no one, but he did tell her more than he told anyone else, and he didn't make any secret of the fact that he had other women whenever the opportunity arose. Now and then, he tried egging her into admitting that she still had other guys on the string, but she would never tell him one way or the other.
On the day he had trouble with Joe Harrison, Bull went to Brownie's soon after getting off duty. Half an hour later Lily and Tad came in. They sat down in Bull's booth and chatted until Tad saw some friends come in and went to join them at the bar. Lily kept on talking to Bull, but he hardly heard a word she said. Finally she asked him what was wrong.
"Nothing's wrong. Why?"
"You keep squirming and frowning and your mind's a million miles away. What's bugging you?"
At last he told her. "There's this kid, last Friday night I took his girl away from him. Gave her the thrill of her life, and she really went for me. But I guess she gave the show away to the kid, and now he's haunting me. I think he's out to make trouble."
"What's he been doing?"
"Following me around in his car, asking questions about me, going to where I live." Lily laughed. "So what?"
"So this kids name is Richard Bristol, that's what. His family is big around here. They could make trouble."
Lily looked incredulous. "Is that all? A kid gets jealous and snoops around because you tried his girl? And you get worried?"
"Maybe you didn't hear me. This kid is Richard-Richard Bristol, I knew him in high school. So what?" Lily sucked at a bottle of beer. "You want to know something, Bull? For all your muscle, there's something craven about you."
"You want that beer bottle pushed through your teeth?"
"I'd like to see you try that with Tad around. Who was the girl?"
"What's the difference?"
She shrugged and patted his hand. "Just save a little for momma."
"Tonight?"
Lily didn't answer; she seemed to be thinking something out. "Yeah," she said after a minute. "I seem to remember that Richard Bristol was real cute, even when he was fourteen. I don't see him around anymore. Is he a wild kid?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. Probably thinks he's better than anyone else. Goes with nice girls, beds 'em, and gets real shook at the idea that they'd fall for anyone else, let alone the hoi polioi like me."
Lily was squinting, as if seeing something distantly. "Yeah. And now he's all full of self-righteousness and dreams of revenge, 'cause his girl is supposed to be better than us common cats."
"You got the picture."
"His girl cheated on him and now he's going to get even."
"That's what I was saying. And the squirt is bugging me."
Lily wrinkled her nose. "You bug easy. But it might be kind of fun to take some of the starch out of little him, you know that?"
"I catch him again, I'll take plenty out of him."
"Nuts."
For some time Lily was silent, which was perfectly all right with Bull. He had enough on his mind without having to put up with cracks from Lily-the situation could become serious whether she believed it or not. His mind drifted off in thoughts of what he'd like to do to Richard Bristol and what he planned to do to Laura Dale at the first opportunity, and he was startled when Lily spoke again.
"Yeah, I don't think you better come over tonight, Bullsie. Little Lily has other plans."
After Harrison left. Richard continued in his funk. He went back to his room and lay down on his bed. He told himself that he had to think, but the thoughts didn't come. What confidence he had in himself and his abilities as an adult was bleeding away, thanks to his ineffectualness in taking care of Bull Chapman. He remembered Bull's words, Little man, big talk, and they struck him as only too true. What good was he? What could he do for Laura? He felt so impotent that he didn't even want to see her or talk to her.
When the telephone call came that evening, he didn't know how to react to it. He felt a jolt of surprise but little more.
"Hello, Dick," the woman's voice said. "I don't suppose you remember me. but we were in school together. I was three years ahead of you-Lily Masters."
"Oh, yeah-yeah-I think I remember," Richard lied.
"I'm married now-I married Tad Wylie. Do you know him?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, what I called you about, Dick. Gosh, I'm almost afraid to mention it. Look, you can keep things confidential, can't you?"
"Yes, of course, what is it?"
"You've been asking around about-" there was fright in her voice, "-about Bull Chapman, I understand."
"Who told you that?"
"Never mind. Word gets around. If you want to know about Bull Chapman, I can tell you, and I can tell you plenty."
Something like excitement began to stir in Richard. "Well, go ahead."
"No. No, I can't right now. My husband may show up at any minute, and he mustn't know about this."
Richard saw something like a pattern: a man, his woman-and Bull Chapman. "I understand. Where can we meet?"
"My place. But that'll have to be late, after my husband has gone to work. He's on the night shift until Saturday. Can you come to my house tonight, say some time after midnight?"
"Yeah, if that's best."
"It is, Dickie, believe me. My husband is so jealous, he's almost as bad as Bull Chapman, and that's going some. You come tonight, and we'll talk, and-and I'm sure I can tell you things you ought to know."
"All right, Lily, I'll be there. Where do you live?"
She gave him the address. "But come up the alley and in the back way. Don't let the neighbors see you, and don't be surprised if there aren't any lights."
"You can expect me." ltl