11 - Case Pending by Elizabeth Linington

In the grimy underbelly of the city, a girls lifeless body is discovered in a desolate lot, horrifyingly beaten and with an eye brutally gouged out. Across town, another young woman is found dead under similar circumstances. Lieutenant Mendoza is convinced theres a chilling connection. As he delves into this twisting mystery in this first riveting installment of the Lt. Mendoza series, he navigates a colorful landscape of intriguing characters, veiled secrets, and stark realism that resonates with the modern reader. (Summary by Ben Tucker)

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Chapter eleven of Case Pending by Del Shannon. This LibriVox
recording is in the public domain. Chapter eleven. Cops, Marty thought, cops,
he had said funny. The words meant the same, but
seemed like people who didn't like them. Maybe they were
afraid of them, said cops, and other people, said policeman.

(00:24):
He sat up in bed in the dark. It was
the bad time again, the time alone with the secret,
and a lot of what made it bad was usually
not having outside things to keep him from thinking about it, remembering,
but right now he had, and that somehow made it worse.
He sat up straight against the headboard. He tried to
sit still as still, but couldn't help shivering, even in

(00:47):
his flannel pajamas, with the top of him outside the blanket.
If he laid right down like usual, he was afraid
he'd go to sleep after a while, even the long while.
It had got to taking him lately, and he mustn't
If he was going to do what he plansed, he
had to stay awake until everybody else was asleep, maybe
two three o'clock in the morning, and then be awful,

(01:07):
quiet and careful, like a lesson. He was memorizing he
said it all over again to himself in his mind.
All he had got to remember about, don't make any noise,
get up when it's time, and put on his pants
and jacket over his pajamas, and get it, and remember
about the key to the door, take it with him
so as he could get back in. He knew where

(01:28):
the place was where he was going. It was only
three blocks over there on Main Street. Wouldn't take long
if nobody saw, or if this was the only way
to do it, if he was going to And the
worst of that was it didn't seem like such a
good idea now, a kind of silly idea, really, But
he couldn't think of anything else at all without breaking
the promise, doing the one unforgivable thing he tried this morning.

(01:53):
He had waited until she was busy in the kitchen,
thought he could pick it up and call out goodbye
and go off quick before but it had gone wrong.
He wasn't quick enough, and she'd come in, looked awful,
queer at him, funny a bit frightened, and said, sharp,
what's you up to? Still fooling around here? You'll be
late for school. You go along now, And he had

(02:14):
to go with her watching, So now he was waiting
until there'd be nobody await to see. And maybe it
was silly. It wouldn't make anything happen, cops, he thought, confusedly.
But he did remember Dad saying all new scientific things,
and like that. They were a lot smarter, and some
real high educated now from college. It might cops. He

(02:36):
didn't like loud voices and people getting so mad they
hit each other. It made him feel hollow and bad inside.
In the movies, you knew it was just put on,
and when you were interested in the story you didn't
mind so much. But even there sometimes it made you
feel kind of upset. That was the first time tonight
he'd seen Danny's dad since he'd come with them. Danny

(02:58):
didn't seem to be ashamed of all. Telli's dad had
been in jail back East and said it like it
was something to brag about. But that was how Danny was.
Marty sure didn't think he could be much of a
dad to brag on jail or no jail. He shut
his eyes and just like a movie, saw it over
again himself, going up the stairs to Danny's apartment, asked
if he wanted to go to the movies with him.

(03:20):
Mad give him thirty cents, said he could go, And
the loud voice swearing inside cops. You think I can't
smell a cop? Yeah, yeah, you say that to me before.
So you walk right past a couple of bastards outside
and never see him more than if they was listen,
what the hell you've been up to? Bringing cops down
on the place, and Danny shrill, I never done nothing.
I don't talk back to me, your little bastard. I

(03:41):
ain't fool enough to think him. I got him too,
damn scared. If I hadn't spotted them, damp might have
walked right into What the hell else could they be
after watching the house? Could have traced me here. You've
been up to some of your piling kids stuff heiston
hubcaps or something, and they I never listen. And the
noise of fists hitting Danny yelling, and something falling hard

(04:03):
against the door Danny, he guessed, because then it opened
and Danny sort of fell out and banged it after
him and kicked it. It was dark in the hall.
Marty had backed off always and Danny didn't see him.
Danny leaned on a wall A minute there one hand
up to the side of his face, maybe where his
dad had hit him. It looked like his nose was
bleeding too, and Marty thought he was crying, only Danny

(04:24):
never did. He wasn't that kind. And then the door
opened again and mister Smith came out, a tough looking man.
He was like crooks in the movies. And there in
the room behind that was just like the living room,
and the place Marty lived a floor down was Danny's maw.
He'd seen her before, of course, a little soft looking
lady with a lot of black hair, and she looked
scared and kept saying, oh, please, right, it's not his fault,

(04:47):
Please don't ray. Oh, for God's sake, I ain't goin
to do nothing, So all right, kid, Maybe I got
my wires crossed in it's something else, hope to God
it is. But listen, come here, you gotta go and
do that phone call for me. See I can't, Danny
yelled at him. Be damned if I will bast it yourself,
and kicked out his shins and bolted for the stairs.
As the man snarled at him. Marty had crept back

(05:09):
even farther toward the dark end of the hall. Mister
Smith didn't see him either. He made as if to
go after Danny stopped, said oh hell, and went back
into the apartment, and Marty slid past the shut door
and down stairs, but he didn't see Danny anywhere on
the block. He wondered if Danny was hurt bad. His
dad looked pretty strong, and if you'd ever hit Danny
like that before, probably so if he got mad that

(05:30):
way a lot. For a minute thinking about it, Marty
felt some better himself, because maybe his own dad had
gone away and left them, But he'd sure never ever
hit him or said bad things to him or anybody.
Marty's dad, he always said it beat all how some
fellows were all the time getting mad. You always sure
as fate did something dumb or wrong when you was mad,

(05:51):
because you couldn't think straight. There was only a couple
of times Marty could remember his whole life when dad
had got real mad, and then he didn't swear or yell.
Why he'd never heard Dad, I'd say a damn, And
he was right strict about swearing. He didn't talk an
awful lot of the time, but when he was mad,
he didn't say anything at all. He'd been awful mad
that last time that night before he went away, just

(06:13):
didn't come home. And on that thought everything it made
him remember, Marty stopped feeling better and stopped wondering why
mister Smith was so mad at Danny what he had
been talking about. He hadn't gone to the movies, after all.
It was kind of a crooked picture, and he didn't
much want to see it, really though if he'd been
with some other fellows, he'd have had to pretend he did,
because it was the kind of thing everybody was supposed

(06:34):
to like. And now he was sitting here in the dark,
alone with a secret, waiting for it to be time,
and remembering now what mister Smith had said about cops
cops outside watching the house. Something funny happened inside Marty's stomach,
like he had gone hollow, and his heart gave an
extra thought. Were they was? It? Was it because he

(06:56):
had to do what was right, no matter what, even
if it meant you'd die like the gas thing they
had in California, he knew, and he didn't see how
his mom could think a different way. It wasn't right
people should get killed like that. Even if he hadn't
ever meant. Ever, no one even somebody ought to know
and stop it happening again. That was why he was
sitting here, cold and scared, waiting somebody. He hadn't exactly

(07:19):
thought cops, but of course that was what he'd meant,
and all of a sudden, now thinking about them, maybe
outside cops meant something different, terrible to be more scared
of than anything anything he knew more about sometimes in
the movies, yelling at guys and hitting them in a
thing called the third degree, the gas chamber in California.

(07:41):
But once Dad had said about one of those movies
Marty told about that was bad to show. It was
wrong because policemen weren't like that at all anymore. That
was other times a bright light they had shining right
in their eyes, and they, Dad said. Marty shut his
eyes tight and tried to get back to that place.
Couldn't remember how long ago, or if it was Tapping

(08:02):
Street or Macy Avenue where there had been Dad just
like always sitting at the kitchen table, digging out his
pipe with his knife and looking over the top of
his glasses and saying and saying something about policemen being
your friends to help you he couldn't get there to
Dad that time. Where he got to instead was that

(08:22):
night before Dad didn't come home. He was right there again.
He saw Dad, plain, awful mad he'd been for sure,
his face all stiff and white, and the look in
his eyes said how hard he was holding himself in.
Dad saying, slow and terrible quiet, I can't stand no more, Marian,
I just can't stand no more. And Marty knew right

(08:44):
this minute just how Dad had felt when he said that,
because he felt the same way, not all of a sudden,
but like as if he'd only this minute come to
know how he felt. Plane. I just can't stand no more.
He relaxed, limp against the headboard, and a queer, vague
peace built him, like coming to the end of a long,

(09:05):
long walk, like getting there someplace at last, and he
could stop trying anymore. It didn't matter what place or
what happened there. It was finished. I just can't stand
no more. The gas and the cops, whatever kind, and
whatever they did or didn't do, And even more immediate

(09:26):
and terrible, his ma and what would happen afterward when
she found out anything, everything, nothing, It wasn't anyways important anymore.
Something had to happen, and what didn't matter, what or how.
Maybe there were those cops down there, even two or
three o'clock in the morning, and they'd see him when
he came out with it and take him to the
police station. Maybe not some other way, the way he thought,

(09:50):
Or maybe they already knew he couldn't see, but how
they might, And in the end, maybe they'd make him
break the promise. It didn't matter how it came. He
he knew it would come, and it was time, he
didn't care, Time for the secret to be shown open,
the terrible secret. When Morgan finally moved, he was stiff

(10:10):
with cold and the sense of failure, a resignation too
apathetic now to rouse anger in him. He had known
half an hour ago that Smith wasn't coming. Why he
had gone on standing here, he didn't know. He turned
and went into the drug store. Hot stuffiness struck him
in the face after the cold. Outside, the druggist was
rearranging bottles on a shelf along the wall. He turned

(10:32):
quickly to watch. Morgan didn't come up to ask what
he wanted. Maybe he thought he was going to get
held up. Morgan scraped up all the change in his pocket,
picked out a quarter, went up to the man, May
I have change for the phone police? Oh? Sure, see
the cash register gave a brisk tongue. A kind of
apologetic relief was in the druggist's eyes as he handed

(10:53):
over two dimes and a nickel. As soon as he
was inside the phone booth, Morgan began to sweat in
his heavy coat. In that airless, fetid box, he sat
on the inadequate little stool and dialed carefully. After two rings,
the receiver was lifted at the other end Sue Dick.
Their voices cut in on each other, hers on a
little gasp. I thought you'd call been waiting. Has he called?

(11:18):
Asked Morgan tautly. He didn't show he won't now. I'm afraid, darling,
I'm afraid he spotted those damn cops and things. I
don't think so, her voice studied. She called Dick about
ten minutes to eight, she said, to tell you he'd
got hung up and couldn't make it. It'd have to be
tomorrow night, and you'd get a phone call sometime tomorrow

(11:38):
to tell you when and where. Morgan leaned his forehead
on the phone box for a second, a wave of
tingling heat passed over him, and he felt weak. He
got delayed, He didn't. That's damn funny. I don't sue.
You sure it was the woman the same? I'm sure, darling.
You remember what a soft, lady like little voice she had,

(12:00):
and she spoke quite well to not glaringly bad grammar.
She'd had some education, but awfully timid and meek, as
if she was cowed. I recognized it right away, and
she sounded like a child reciting a lesson, as if
she was reading the message off the woman, he said,
the woman, so she's still with him? Yeah, we didn't
think she was lying then about beIN married. Yeah, I

(12:21):
cut above him, all right, Probably one of those natural
door mats. Husband's just bein' a superior mail when he
knocks her around. He god, I was afraid. So it's
just another breathing space until tomorrow night. I wonder why
I don't like it. Can't stall with him forever, Dick,
And in the end we can't pay he'll What can
you say to him any more to make him lesson?

(12:44):
Said Morgan, trying to sound more authoritative, confident. Don't let
her suspect, how you're planning to deal with a convincer.
It's the money he wants. He's not in any rush
to get this thing open in court. That's the last
thing he wants. It's his only hold on us. He's
not so anxious to let go of it. I suppose not,
but did I I've got to where I just want

(13:06):
it over and decided whichever way is hanging on. I know, Darling,
I know, maybe tomorrow I'll be right home half an hour.
Lieutenant Callahan was a good deal less than mollified to
be presented with such small fry as Domas Ramirez. He
had been lying hopefully in ambush for a certain big

(13:26):
time Eastern wholesaler and had, as he informed Mendoza, bitterly,
had a leash on mister Torres Domingo and assorted friends
for some time. What the hell good did it do
to pick up a minnow like this Ramirez who just
ferried the stuff across the border in small lots if
Mendoza was interested. They had known about the Maison Deschat
for quite a while, and a usually reliable source of

(13:47):
information had led them to expect the wholesaler on the
premises to night to set up a deal with Nettie,
mister Torres Domingo being the MetalMan. At nine o'clock, they
had expected him, and so it was very probable that
he had been maybe a hundred feet away from the
kitchen door when Mendoza's bright boy had gotten a little
too close to the game and flushed at early, and
so their chances of getting him now or even another

(14:08):
line on him were just about nil. And if Mendoza
could remember back seventeen years to win, God help us.
And if this good looking redhead here would believe it
he and Mendoza had been in the rookie school together,
Mendoza just might recall that one of the first things
they had been told was that there were different divisions
within any big city police force, and that one division

(14:29):
was sort of expected to play ball with the others,
seeing that they weren't exactly in competition with each other. Well,
said Mendoza mildly to that, I suppose I could have
checked with you first, certainly if anything definite had showed up.
But Ramirez was only one of those big hunches, you know, Sharshar.
We all know Mendoza's hunches. Second sight, he's got maybe

(14:50):
a crystal Ball, I wouldn't know our little genius Lewis
Ridolfo Vincente Mendoza one look and he says that naughty
fellow's got a stack of h in his back pocket.
And want my good old friend Pat Johnt for Joy
to have a little of his work all done for him.
Oh he's a star out Lewis, Hey Presto. I've ended
up with a couple of hired salesman punks I could
have taken two months ago instead of the real big boy.

(15:13):
And our Louis thinks he's done me a favor to
give me this Ramiers. Now, when did I say so?
It's the way the carts fall, said Mendoza. Philosophically, these
things happen. My Cristal Ball doesn't always show me the
right picture that you can say twice, said Callahan. Got
you in trouble before, got you a bullet and a
leg in that Brawley business, and right now, by god,

(15:36):
I'm sorry it wasn't in the head. And I'll never
know how you hypnotize these respectable, high class, good looking
women to go round w ye. He looked at Allison
there in the drafty corridor outside his office at head quarters.
You look like a decent, godfair and Irish girl. Only
on my mother's side she was a machan, said Allison solemnly.
And I think it's sheer surprised Lieutenant for any man

(15:58):
these days who thinks he can still order us around
and the dominant mail. You know, by the time we've
recovered enough to begin to talk back, it's too late,
I know. Callahan shook his head at her. You'll watch yourself.
I've got another piece of advice for you, lady. Whatever
else you do with him's your own business. But don't
ever get into a hand of poker with him. And,

(16:18):
seeing you've done about all the damage, you can't to
night Louis on headquarters business, that is, I guess you
can get out of my sight and take her home.
Mendoza rubbed his nose and said he wouldn't presume to
teach Lieutenant Callahan his job, but he did think that Ramirez, Oh,
get out, Scott, said Callahan. He's on his way here now.
I sent two men after him while you were phoning

(16:38):
your bright little boy's wife. I can't hold him on
anything unless one of these too involve him, or we
find the stuff in his position, both of which are
likely to happen. Not that I give a damn about him,
but thank you so much for pointing him out. And
now good night to you. Mendoza grinned at him, said,
oh no, no, no, poido complacer doloy in mundo. One can't
please everybody, be good, pa Ostom Mayebert, and took Allison's

(17:02):
arm down the hall to the elevator. And now he added,
the Familia Ramirez is due for another shock. Yes, poor people.
I must see them to return half the tuition she paid.
You know, I didn't like to blunder in the very
day after, but I thought of the inquest. I might
have had a chance to you haven't been subpoenat you
notice a very routine affair, maybe twenty minutes adjourned, awaiting

(17:25):
further evidence. That's how it'll go. Come if you like,
but it'll be very dull. I won't be there. I'd
like to think that was a non sequitur, said Allison,
but I'm afraid you didn't mean it that way. I
suppose that ex football star sergeant will represent you. I
think I will go. I've never been to an inquest,
and it's an excuse to take the morning off. Besides,

(17:45):
I do want to see the family. Only decent. Mendoza
looked at her and shook his head, getting out his
car keys. Occasionally, I agree with Pat, astonishing how I
seem to acquire these high principled women, that said Allison's
ately is a very premature verb, And twenty minutes later,
at her apartment door, don't forget those stockings sighs nine

(18:08):
and a half thirty three inches. I'd guessed it. Hmm, yes,
said Allison, and entirely too good A guess it is women.
We never satisfy them. They don't like us too callo,
and they don't like us too experienced. He laid a
caressing hand round her throat. I'd said to myself, very
gentlemanly this time. Maybe next time I'll kiss her good night.

(18:29):
But I told you I am always breaking resolutions, and
sometimes even twice or three times if it seems like
a good idea. Once was quite enough, said Allison, rather breathlessly,
pushing him away for three days acquaintance. So we figure
it like compound interests, Gica, I'll add up how much
it comes to per week. Good night me, Viano op Demista,

(18:52):
said Alison firmly. He smiled at the closing door. He
never liked them too easy. At about the same time
that Alison Weir was struggling with the zipper of the
oyster silk sheath and reflecting that Lieutenant Callahan's advice about
watching herself was an excellent idea. Agnes Brown was standing
in the cold, dim rooming house hall, shivering in just
her slip in the cotton robe she had tied round

(19:14):
her when missus Anderson called her to the phone. You
shouldn't have, she kept saying, almost crying, hitting a policeman
like that, Joe, It's terrible. They might have arrested you.
You shouldn't go losing your temper like that. Well, they
got a nerve snooping around you just on accounter you
found a body? What the hell ay after anyway, you
didn't have anything to do. Listen, Agnes, I don't get it.
Rita says. There was a guy came up to her

(19:35):
after work, another cop, asking about you. I guess she
told you I just got in had to work late.
And when she oh dear, whispered Agnes to herself. I
know she called me. Rita was Joe's sister, who worked
the same counter as Agnes. It seemed funny to think
if she got that job at Cress's instead, she'd have
never met Rita or Joe, and it had been just chance, really,

(19:56):
and she couldn't wish she hadn't. But oh, dear. Asking
questions about how long she'd known Agnes, Rita said, and
like that, they must suspect I. I don't know what
they're after, Joe, But no call for you to get
in trouble account O me. It's my own got nobody
talk up for you. I guess your friend's got a
right to you mustn't, said Agnes in agony. It's awful

(20:18):
good of you, Joe, but you don't know you. You'd
better not jus bother about me any more cuz she
couldn't come out with it like that over the phone.
Hear what he'd say, know what he'd think. She just
hung up quick and went back to her room, shut
herself in. It'd been bad enough, feeling guilty all the
while worrying, But when it came to getting her friends
in trouble, Agnes dried her eyes and blew her nose

(20:41):
and thought forlornly well, that's that, and serve her right too.
Tomorrow morning, go to them and tell the truth. Shame
the devil, like her grandma used to say, and have
it done with. That was all, whatever they'd do to
her for it. And afterward, Joe and Rita and the
others that had been nice, that that she had liked
having for friends, they wouldn't want any more to do

(21:02):
with her when they knew, but you couldn't expect different.
She'd just have to take her medicine. Was all better.
Go to the store first, tell mister Snyder she was quitting.
She'd have to anyway, and I'd mean finding another room too,
because missus Anderson wouldn't. And it was silly go on
crying like this. It was all her own fault. End

(21:24):
of chapter eleven.