Dressed to Killed by Milton Ozaki Read Free Book Online Page B

became clearer. Arnold J. Richmond. Then: trapped. That did it. Consciousness swept back and I knew, once again, the what, where and why of things.
    I was lying on a sofa, bound and gagged, with my head only inches away from an ornate, gold-trimmed clock. I was not in the garage. I was in someone's apartment. Richmond was in the room, talking to someone. I forced my head to turn toward the voices. Richmond came into focus. He was sitting stiffly in a Morris chair, gnawing at his lip and glaring disgustedly at me.
    "What I've suggested is the only sensible course of action," the first voice said smoothly. "Killing him will remove him from action—that's true. However, it will leave us with another body, another murder—and considerably more heat upon us. Doing as I suggest will solve all our problems, or nearly all of them, and will make it possible for us to continue operating."
    With difficulty, I strained my neck around until the other side of the room came within my range of vision. He was a short, chunky guy with graying, curly hair, a square face freshly shaven and nicely talcumed, dark eyes, and the prettiest brown plaid suit I'd ever seen outside of a tailor's window. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I didn't recognize him until he paced slowly in front of me, folded his hands behind him, and gave me the considering stare of a man who's studying a fly on the end of a pin.
    Then his name popped into my mind: Leo Gold! I didn't groan, but I felt like it. Gold was king of the local shysters, a great guy with the bright boys and smart girls, the kind of lawyer who rarely had to soil his manicured nails by touching briefs or law books.
    "I don't like it," Richmond said flatly.
    "Of course not," Gold agreed in dulcet tones. "I don't either. It's simply a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils. Fortunately, you had sense enough to consult me before you did anything irrevocable." He lifted his eyebrows delicately and looked at Richmond. "I'm a businessman, Arnold. I'm interested in making money—and I assume that you are, too. The less violence we have, the better for both of us."
    "But for chrissake, Leo, the guy's wise to us!" Richmond snapped. "The only way to stop him from spilling the whole set-up is to kill him."
    "You're wrong, Arnold." Gold's tone was quiet but firm. "Killing him will merely multiply our troubles. As things stand now, the cops are after Sands' killer—and this guy is a natural suspect. The cops will love him. The newspapers will love him. And you and I ought to love him, because as soon as the cops get him all the heat will be off us."
    "But he'll talk!" Richmond interrupted. "How do you expect to stop him from talking?"
    "I don't." Gold paced back and forth slowly. "Well let him talk. The way I'll have things fixed, the more he talks the less anybody'll believe him!" Gold made a dramatic arc with one hand. "I tell you, all we need is the right girl, one who'll put on a good act, follow directions, and keep her mouth shut afterwards."
    Richmond frowned and shook his head. "I hate to bring another dame into this. We were okay until you started mixing dolls into the racket."
    "You're imagining things, Arnold. Giselle followed through perfectly on every job we gave her, except this last one. What happened was purely accidental. It wouldn't happen again in a thousand years." Gold glanced at a gold watch on his wrist. "Time is flying. Let's make up our minds."
    "Well, you're the boss," Richmond said, not very enthusiastically. "I still don't like it, but I'll play along if you're sure that—"
    "I'm sure," Gold said.
    "Okay. Suppose we give the job to Fia Sprite?"
    Gold squinted at the ceiling. "The Calypso babe?"
    "Yeah. She's clean as far as the law goes, and she's damned anxious to get her hands on a wad of dough."
    "Why?"
    "Wants to quit thrashing in the joints and open an interior decorating shop. For a few grand in real money, I think she'd hold still for nearly