Juvenile Delinquent Read Online Free

clear. But when I got there Bart was dead.”
    “You say you were going somewhere to have it out? You weren’t going to fight at the club room?”
    “Naw. We don’t allow fights there. Bart and me just fixed to meet there.”
    “Where were you going?” I asked.
    His bony shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Behind the car barns, maybe. Or some vacant lot. We’d of decided that after we met.”
    “When a fight for the presidency takes place, are there certain rules?”
    “Sure,” Joe said. “You can’t use nothing but your hands. That’s how the guys would know this was a bum rap. They know I wouldn’t use a knife and they know we wouldn’t fight in the club room. Besides, Bart had on his jacket.”
    When I only looked puzzled at this, he explained. “Our jackets cost fourteen bucks apiece. We don’t even wear them on a rumble. Nobody in the club would fight without taking his jacket off first.”
    I asked, “If the Gravediggers framed you, how’d they know you planned to meet Bart last night?”
    “Everybody knew. The Purple Pelicans wouldn’t spread it around, but the auxiliary knew all about it too, and some of them pal around a little with members of the Gravediggers’ auxiliary.”
    “What are these auxiliaries?” I asked. “The club members’ girl friends?”
    “Yeah. Only they have to be taken in.”
    I took this to mean the girl friend of a member didn’t automatically become an auxiliary member, but had to be approved by either the club or the other auxiliary members, or perhaps both.
    “So you’re reasonably certain the Gravediggers knew of your planned meeting with Bart, then?”
    “Sure. That stuff gets around fast.”
    “How would they get at that knife your dad owned?”
    He laughed a little sardonically. “Our flat hasn’t been locked in years. What’s there to steal except a lot of empty whisky bottles?”
    “The police say some girl phoned in anonymously at a quarter of ten to report a reefer party was going in at the club room. Which is why the cops happened to arrive just when they did. Any idea who the girl would be?”
    His face darkened angrily. “First I heard that,” he said. “Probably some gal in the Gravediggers’ auxiliary.”
    “The cops think maybe it was either your girl friend or Bart Meyer’s trying to prevent the fight because she was afraid one of you’d get hurt.”
    “How’d the cops find out about the fight?” he asked in astonishment.
    “They didn’t. They’re only guessing. You think it could have been either your girl or Bart’s?”
    He shook his head decisively.
    “Give me their names anyway,” I suggested.
    “Bart’s girl friend was Stella Quint over on Sixth. I don’t know the exact address.”
    “How about yours?”
    After the slightest hesitation he said, “I haven’t got one.”
    I suspected he was being gallant about involving his girl, but before I could follow up, Hannegan appeared outside the cell and attracted my attention by banging his keys against the bars. When I looked at him, he pointed at his watch.
    “Don’t be so G.I.,” I said. “Give me another minute.”
    “Kid’s got another visitor,” the lieutenant said stolidly.
    “All right. Just one more question then. Joe, who do I see in the club to steer me around down in that neighborhood?”
    He looked thoughtful, glanced at Hannegan, then asked, “Got a pencil and paper?”
    I gave him my pocket notebook and a mechanical pencil. I stood beside him, watching as he laid the notebook on his knee and wrote :
Stub Carlson, 722 Vernon
.
    Below this he wrote :
This guy is Manny Moon, who I’ve told you about. You can level with him about anything and it won’t go no farther
.
    He contemplated what he had written, scratched through the
no
and substituted
any
above it. I put the notebook and pencil back in my pocket and waited for Hannegan to unlock the door.
    When the lieutenant and I arrived in the lobby together, I discovered the other person waiting to see Joe