Sin In Their Blood

Sin In Their Blood
Ed Lacy

MONDAY
It was almost 10 a.m. and starting to warm up as I walked slowly down
the main street, stopping every few minutes to rest my light bag. It's the
kind of a street you think about a lot when you're out of town... and
then return and wonder why the hell you ever looked forward to seeing
it again. I took in the skyscrapers, the movie houses, the gin mills, the
bookie joints that passed as cigar stores, the radio-station tower that
disappeared into the blue sky, a modern monument to nothing. I
watched the people hurrying by, the crowded restaurants and orangeade
stands, the heavy traffic--and I knew the street didn't mean a thing to
me any more. I suppose in the hospital I'd thought about it so often
because it had been a dream then, a symbol of living. Now, as I looked
up and down the busy street--this street that had been a big part of my
life--all I could think was, where had I got it? In what bar or eating
place or movie had somebody breathed deeply and given me the damn
bug?
There were lots of places I could have gone to but I didn't have
anyplace to go to, so I dropped into the Baker, the best hotel in town. I
had less than seventy bucks and this was strictly a lush spot, but after
eleven months of hospital beds, I wanted a little luxury for a few nights.
As I walked across the impressive lobby, Abe Berg, the house dick,
came toward me like a wobbly tank. Abe was a rough joker, once he
got his mitts on you. He'd been a professional wrestler and his face had
been stepped on a couple of times--and put together again carelessly.
Some guys get by on their size, or rough talk--Abe got by on his face.
He said in a shrill voice, "Matt Ranzino! You big bastard, heard you
were the hero of that mess in Korea!"

"I was there," I said, turning my head to avoid his breath as we pumped
hands.
"On a case here?" Abe asked, then being a real bright detective he
noticed my bag, added, "Staying here? I can get you the professional
rate--40 per cent off."
"I'm on nothing. Just got into town. Thought I'd put up here for a few
days."
"I'll fix you up with the desk."
"Thanks."
He banged me on the shoulder with one of his meat-hooks, and I
thought I was going to fall over. I let go of his hand, stepped back out
of his reach as he said, "Boy, you look in top shape. Whatcha weigh?"
"Two hundred... and five and a half ounces."
"And hard as that old brick house," he said, trying to slap me in the guts
with his heavy left hand. I pushed that aside, said, "Take it slow, Abe,
I... eh... ate a minute ago."
"Sure. Stop in my office for a hooker?"
"Too early."
We went over to the desk clerk, who looked as though he just had the
cellophane unwrapped from him. Abe introduced me as a buddy-buddy
and whispered something into the clerk's ear and it must have been
good--I only had to pay three bucks for a room and bath. I wanted to go
up and lay down for a while, but Abe wanted to talk. He told the clerk,
"Matt here was the toughest private dick in town."
"Well, well," the clerk said in a deadpan voice that must be an
occupational disease with hotel clerks.
"He was a rough cookie. Say, every time I see this Humphrey Bogart

doing his stuff in the movies I say to myself, them Hollywood jokers
ought to get Matt Ranzino on the screen and really see a rough clown in
action."
"The house-dick business so bad you've become a publicity agent,
too?" I asked Abe, and the clerk chuckled at this corn.
"It's the truth, ain't no stuff," Abe said as I picked up my bag. We
walked over to the elevator and he asked casually, "What you going to
do, Matt, get your license again?"
"I don't know. Going to take it easy for a time."
"Heard about your partner, Harry Loughlin? He's in the big money."
Abe said it as though the words tasted bad. "So I heard. What kind of
agency he got?"
"You going in with him again?"
"No."
Abe gave me a horrible leer that was a gold-tooth smile. "Good! Listen
what Harry's doing is... well, I ain't for talking about it, but it stinks.
Really stinks big, Matt."
"Harry's the lad to think up a fast hustle," I said, moving into the
elevator.
"A hustle is a hustle but this..." Abe shook