Cap Fog 3 Read online

  Whoever was unlocking the door had no right to do so!

  If the surreptitious way in which the handle was turning and the door creeping open was anything to go by, the person outside was not merely making a mistake and entering the wrong room!

  While there was a mistake being made, it was inadvertent!

  So far as the occupant was concerned, the wrong room definitely was being entered!

  It was going to prove a most painful error for whoever came in!

  Grinning in savage anticipation, the pimp rolled free of the bed clothes and stood up. For almost the first time since his arrival, he found something about the hotel which met with his full approval. As the usual clientele were cowhands or various types of manual workers, few of whom were accustomed to the luxurious surroundings to which his lucrative trade gave access, the furnishings of the rooms were constructed sturdily as they were intended to receive considerable hard usage. Although he had previously cursed the solidity and hardness of the bed and mattress as being far less comfortable than those he usually occupied, he now conceded that their failings on that account did offer one advantage under the circumstances. He was able to rise swiftly and without any creaking from protesting springs.

  Easing his feet into the pair of patent leather slippers he had placed so as to be readily available if he needed to find them in a hurry, Heifer never took his eyes from the door. Specially made for him, the toes of the footwear were more solid than was usual in casual attire of that nature. This had been done on his instructions to render them more potent when delivering a kick, a quality he had not infrequently found useful in his business. Among others, Freda Marino could have testified to their effectiveness as a means of inflicting punishment. However, being of a cautious disposition, he had no intention of relying solely upon them on this occasion. Reaching beneath the pillow with his left hand, he drew out a pearl handled, nickel-plated Colt Police Positive .38 Special revolver which reposed there. Having armed himself, he set off stealthily across the room.

  Still the door continued to inch open without haste!

  Although some light from the passage was already being allowed to enter, the pimp made his approach in such a way that he was not illuminated by it. What was more, if the slight sounds he had made while rising and walking towards the door had been heard by the intruder, their potential threat was either being overlooked or ignored. No matter which it might be, he was pleased that he had not frightened his unexpected and uninvited visitor away.

  Heifer considered that having the element of surprise on his side he could “work over” an intended “snoozer” 28 with his fists and feet and this would save him the trouble of going elsewhere in search of a less enjoyable diversion. Nor would the local town clowns ask too many awkward questions if the disturbance brought them to investigate. Even with the current wave of pressure causing them to perform their duties far more conscientiously than might otherwise have been the case, no peace officer in Texas would worry unduly about the extent of injuries suffered by a thief caught attempting to commit a robbery.

  Under the prevailing conditions, the pimp had no doubt that he was competent to deal with the situation. Despite the unsavory way in which he made his living, or rather because he was engaged in such a highly competitive line of work, he always endeavored to keep himself in reasonable physical shape and he had a sound knowledge of the more brutally effective methods of self-defense.

  Five foot ten inches in height, Heifer was broad shouldered and bulky, but not to the extent of being cumbersome. Clad only in the slippers and a pair of white silk underpants, (he always wore such garments instead of more formal night attire) the body he displayed was fit and hard. The brown hair on his bullet-shaped head was normally longer, but had been cropped very short as an aid to changing his appearance. While not exactly bad looking or dissipated, his sharp and sallow features were marred by a nose which had been broken and badly set. Several blows to his right ear had afflicted it with the condition known as a cauliflower. Taken with his nose, this suggested—without any basis—that he had once been a professional boxer. He was not devoid of fistic ability, but any fighting he did was always outside a ring where he was free from the restricting rules of sporting conduct. Even then, unless—as at that moment—he was confident of victory without undue risk to himself, he fought only when there was no escape.

  By the time he was safely ensconced at the hinged side of the door, the pimp had thought out the safest line of action for him to take. However, he had to wait for a few more seconds before being granted his first sight of the intruder. When he did, the qualms he had felt disappeared and he decided that, as things had turned out, he could have handled the situation without even arming himself with the revolver.

  As he was stepping across the threshold, framed briefly by the light from the passage before he closed the door, the man who entered was a far from menacing sight. Possibly in his early twenties, he lacked a good four inches of Heifer’s height. Bareheaded, with shortish curly black hair, his clean shaven, tanned face was youthful and moderately handsome. There was nothing about his features to make him noticeable, however, or easy to identify. If his clothing was any guide, he was employed as a worker on a ranch—probably in some lesser capacity than cowhand—and not very prosperous. He had on an ancient and much scuffed brown leather jacket which was left unfastened to display an open necked and faded dark blue shirt, but he was not wearing a bandana. The legs of his patched and washed-out Levi pants were tucked into the tops of such decrepit, flat heeled riding boots no cowhand worth his salt would have owned them.

  Nothing he had seen or deduced about the intruder during the brief period of illumination was causing the pimp to feel the slightest concern. Rather the opposite. From all appearances, the other was neither armed nor even an experienced snoozer. In fact, Heifer was willing to bet this was almost his first incursion to such a specialized kind of crime. Although his hands were empty, the ease with which he had manipulated the lock suggested he had not employed a pick, but had obtained a pass-key from somewhere as an aid to gaining admittance. Nor had his subsequent behavior implied he was conversant with the tricks of the snoozer’s trade. Certainly he had failed to appreciate that the means by which he had unlocked the door could give a warning of what was happening to any occupant of the room. 29 Furthermore, on entering, he had not taken the basic precaution of ensuring he was alone. Despite the state of the bed suggesting this could be the case, a competent snoozer would have looked around to make sure. Instead, immediately he had shoved the door closed with his heel, the young man had continued walking forward. Just about the only sensible thing he had done, in fact, was to have donned a pair of thin black leather riding gloves which would prevent him leaving fingerprints enabling the police to identify him.

  Not that, the pimp mused as he stepped away from the wall with as great a stealth as when crossing to it, would the solitary sensible precaution be of any benefit. After what he was intending to do, the town clowns would have no need to search for clues to the identity of the intruder. He would be waiting for them when they came, although not in any condition to answer questions.

  Step by step, moving faster than his proposed victim, Heifer made his approach!

  With the distance decreasing, a sense of gloating anticipation and eagerness to start inflicting the punishment filled the pimp, enhanced by the conviction that he could do so without for once incurring the wrath of the law.

  For all that, despite being confident he would have no difficulty in handling the diminutive snoozer, Heifer never believed in taking needless chances and he decided to follow the line of action he had thought out as he was making his way to the door. While he had collected the revolver from beneath the pillow, it was only to be employed as a firearm in an emergency. Satisfied that such an eventuality would not arise, he began to swing the weapon upwards diagonally in front of his chest as a prelude to striking the young man on the right shoulder.

  A blow
of the kind which the pimp was intending to deliver would numb its recipient’s arm and further reduce his chances of resistance, making the ensuing ‘working over’ even easier and safer.

  Two – You’ve Got a Real Mean Temper, Rapido

  Suddenly, an instant before Eric “Side-Wheeler” Heifer estimated he would be close enough to launch his proposed attack, the intruder reversed directions and crashed shoulders-first into him with considerable force. Taken completely unawares, the impact drove him backwards against the wall. Giving him no time to recover from the surprise, the young man, twisting around with an equal rapidity, lunged, and reached out. Two hands clamped around the pimp’s left wrist. Then they started to crush with a power which, in comparison with the small size of the person who applied the pressure, was startling and not a little unnerving.

  Such was the shock of discovering that his intended victim was far stronger than he had envisaged, Heifer was unable to avoid having the Colt Police Positive revolver shaken from his grasp. Much to his surprise, as it landed, the painful hold on his wrist was released. Stepping back a pace, the small snoozer gave the weapon a swift kick which sent it spinning across the room until it struck the wall and lay, its nickel plating glinting faintly in the light coming through the undraped window.

  A mixture of fear and anger provoked the pimp into taking advantage of what he regarded as the intruder’s error in tactics. Grateful that his left arm had been liberated, he rammed both palms against the front of the faded blue shirt and shoved. Propelled backwards and just missing the bed, the small man was brought to a halt by the dressing-table. However, as Heifer started towards him, he proved he was in no way incapacitated by the not too gentle collision. Bringing up his fists, and adopting a posture clearly intended to allow him to defend himself, he moved forward.

  Keeping the left elbow bent, close to the body and behind the near fist, which was held thumb uppermost, the snoozer had his clenched right hand positioned just below his chin. The other elbow was tucked well in and the knuckles of its fist were turned towards the pimp. With his legs comfortably apart, the left being slightly bent and in advance of the right, he lifted his heels. Balancing his weight evenly on the balls of his feet, he kept the left pointing in the direction of his approaching assailant. Having done so, he began to make the type of dancing steps which permitted fast movements when going forward, retreating, or taking a sideways evasion.

  Watching the intruder adopting the sparring stance, it was obvious to Heifer that he had done a reasonable amount of boxing. In spite of that, the pimp was more relieved than perturbed by what he saw. Unless, he was mistaken, the bouts in which the snoozer had participated were of the comparatively gentle amateur variety. As Heifer was well aware, such training and competition was more of a liability than an asset in a free-for-all roughhouse brawl. In fact, he considered having a technique of that kind employed against him by an antagonist offered him the kind of edge he liked.

  The pimp’s conclusions on the subject were drawn from the meaning of his nickname!

  Heifer was not called “Side-Wheeler” because he had had some connection with the paddle boats which plied the Mississippi and other suitable rivers. It was bestowed because he was left-handed. 30

  Having noticed that the intruder’s posture and stance indicated he was right handed, past experience led the pimp to assume he would expect everybody else to be the same. In which case, particularly as he conveyed the impression of being no more than moderately competent as a boxer, finding himself under attack by a south-paw might confuse and render him easy meat.

  Shaken and surprised by the shock of being disarmed with such ease, Heifer’s conclusions were causing his earlier confidence to return.

  There was, however, a possibility which the pimp had overlooked!

  Acting upon his assumptions, the pimp shot forward his right fist from a distance at which his longer arms would reach while he was still beyond the intruder’s range. Counting upon the other expecting the blow to be delivered by his left, he aimed for the center of the tanned young face.

  The punch failed to reach its target, but it was not blocked as one would expect from a boxer!

  Once again, Heifer felt his wrist caught by the powerful hands of the intruder. Just an instant too late, he realized that the snoozer could have drawn the correct conclusions from noticing which hand he had used to hold the Colt. Furthermore, while he found his attack was being countered by a wrestling hold rather than a boxing one, the appreciation came a fraction of a second too late for him to be able to apply counter measures.

  Swiveling around with the alacrity which had characterized his actions when disarming the pimp, the intruder applied leverage on the trapped limb. Given no chance to even think of resistance, Heifer found himself passing over the snoozer’s shoulders. He formed a hazy impression that they were far wider than he had realized, but he was not allowed to ponder upon the discovery. Turning a half somersault and being released as he reached the top of the upwards curve, he alighted supine on the bed. Such was the impetus with which he was thrown (by what was somehow akin to a flying mare, yet different from that throw) that he bounced across the mattress.

  When he found he had landed on such a comparatively yielding. surface, he was able to thrust himself erect. Compelled to advance a few steps, he started to turn as he came to a halt.

  Heifer’s relief was short-lived!

  What was more, a hope which the pimp had started to nourish came to nothing!

  Although the small intruder had been given an opportunity to escape he made no attempt to avail himself of it. Instead, he sprang on to and across the bed. Coming down as the pimp was turning, he attacked.

  ‘This’ll teach you to mind what Hogan Turtle says!’ the young man declared, his accent that of a well-educated Texan, driving a power-packed right fist against the side of Heifer’s jaw.

  Sent reeling into the corner of the room, regardless of the pain he was suffering, the pimp was able to appreciate the implications of what he had been told. He derived no satisfaction from learning his assumptions that the intruder lacked the technical knowledge of an experienced snoozer were correct. There was a far more sinister reason for his apparently incautious behavior on entering the room. It had been intended to lull his intended victim into a sense of over confidence. Nor did Heifer need to ponder upon why the other had come. Clearly his actions in San Antonio had aroused the ire of Hogan Turtle and orders had been given for him to be punished, although he would have expected somebody much larger to have been selected to carry it out.

  The pimp wasted no time in wondering how he had been located. A man with Hogan Turtle’s standing and connections in outlaw circles would have little difficulty in obtaining the necessary information. Probably the attorney in San Antonio, with whom he was known to associate, had been approached and felt it advisable to betray him. There was not, however, even a moment to spare on feeling resentment against the lawyer if his suspicions were true.

  Seeing the intruder approaching, Heifer’s response was similar to that of a cornered rat. Snarling a curse which was three parts fear, he flung himself into the attack. It was soon obvious why the small Texan had been chosen to inflict the summary punishment. To his horror, the pimp found himself in contention with the most skilled fighter it had ever been his misfortune to meet. Not only did the intruder punch with great power and precision, he could achieve an equally painful effect with the edge of his hand or by thrusting his extended fingers into the softer portions of the body. His elbows and knees proved just as effective weapons and he seemed able to kick in any direction required.

  Not was Heifer any better on those occasions when he contrived to come to grips instead of punching. He learned to his cost that the small intruder was muscled like a Hercules in miniature. Even his extensive knowledge of wrestling and dirty tricks was no match for the man he had earlier dismissed as being an insignificant country hick only recently embarked upon a life of crime.

&nbs
p; Not all the punishment went one way, of course, at least in the early stages!

  Once Heifer managed to give a swing which threw his antagonist across the room and over the bed. If the way he landed was any guide, the Texan was a skilled horseman. Rolling like a bronc-buster who had been piled by a bucking horse, he suffered no damage to his capability. Halting in a sitting position, he was able to catch the pimp’s left foot as it drove towards his head. Thrusting himself upright and giving the captured limb a twisting heave, he precipitated Heifer headlong into the front of the wardrobe.

  Slowly, yet inexorably, the small Texan gained the upper hand. Even on the few occasions when the pimp acquired a brief lead, he was unable to take advantage of it. After the first few minutes, in fact, he was being subjected to a beating as savage and punishing as he had inflicted upon Freda Marino. Nor, as the rooms on either side and below were unoccupied, was he offered the kind of succor which had proved her salvation. Such was the sturdy way in which the hotel had been built that no sounds of the far from quiet conflict reached the ears of anybody who might raise the alarm.

  At last, feeling as if he had been trampled upon by a herd of stampeding longhorn steers, Heifer tried to open the door and escape. Caught by the right wrist, he was swung and propelled across the room. A collision with the wall prevented him from falling and, seeking some way to flee, his gaze—restricted by the right eye being swollen almost shut—came to rest on the Colt. Struggling to suck air into his tormented lungs, through the blood being emitted from his rebroken nose and mouth with cut lips and some of the teeth shattered, he forced his agony-throbbing body to move in its direction. Moaning what were supposed to be curses, but which emerged as incoherent mumbles, he bent and his left hand enfolded the fancy pearl grips of the butt. Letting out a croaking gasp of relief, he straightened up holding the weapon.