July 14th 1947

  It's past mid-nite, that nap did me good.

  Still on the road. Good, the bleeding has stopped! Champ woke me up with a loud sneeze, so I figured I'd write some more in my diary.

  There is still a lot of stuff that happened yesterday, that I need to write down.

   Let's see where was I, oh yeah, we pulled the truck round back of the Golden Sphere Map Co. Durant was standing by the back entrance, chomping on a cigar, and tapping his foot, like he was waiting to get into the john.

   "Jeez" I thought, "It's bad enough that I've got to deal with Horse Shoe Hanna, but Durant!"

  I had to remember to address him as `Detroit Durant'. He's from Brooklyn, same as me, but he and his family moved to Detroit, some years back.

   Durant used to have a fantasy about being the right hand man, in the Green Hornet's gang. I never even met any one who was in the Hornet's gang. I never even heard of any one who was ever in the Hornet's gang. Maybe that's why Durant wanted in. He saw it as some sort of exclusive club, and figured it would give him prestige.

   As it turned out, Durant moved to Detroit for nothing, as the Hornet seemed to retire, or get plugged, or such like. Least wise we haven't heard any thing about him in years. We'll probably never know, seeing as how no one ever got a looksie under that mask. That's neither here nor there, Durant is still Durant. 280 pounds of pure mean!

   Gooter, Muggy and I got out of the truck and made our way
towards the back entrance. I avoided Durant's glare as we stepped past him into the building. I could feel hot cigar smoke on the back of my neck, as Durant, angrily mumbled about what lousy mugs we were. The tapping of his patent leather shoes made a loud echo, in the garbage filled ally.

   Once inside, I was surprised. The place looked like a normal office. LOOKED, like a normal office, I say, but that was just the ground floor. Inside, we were greeted by an attractive young woman. Durant introduced us, her name was Katya Rockof, and this was her office.

   She told us that the Golden Sphere Map Co. was her own business that she started from scratch. Hearing this, I think I figured out her deal. A skirt, trying to make it as a professional, especially in a podunk town like this, cant be making a good enough go at it. She needs other ways of bringing in the dough. So she rents her building to business men like ourselves, to have our covert meetings. How often do covert meetings happen in a hick town like this? I don't ask these questions out loud, I just do my job.

  I called her a skirt, Katya, but maybe I shouldn't, because she’s one of those dames who likes to wear trousers, long trousers, and she keeps her black hair cut almost as short as mine. I'm thinking maybe she's one of those girls who likes to be with other girls, but then I think "Nah, she's too much of a dish." If and when I get back to Red Mikes, I'll have to ask the 'Sinister' Dick Rabies about that, he claims to be an expert.

  Katya smiled, talked politely, and shook our hands, just like she was a regular fella. She had these eyes....... Okay, about my previous thought about dames. I thought most women were like Meg, or my dear old mother, or the molls, that sit on the big bosses lap. Oh sure I've met the occasional tough broad, and a couple of female masterminds like the Dragon Lady and the Lynx. Katya was different, there was something big going on behind those eyes, and I knew I wouldn't want to be on her bad side.

  Katya led the four of us to the back of her workspace, past wooden tables and large printing presses. We stood before a wall, and Katya tugged four times on the end of a rope, that stretched from one wall to another. The rope seemed innocent enough, what with the maps hanging from clothes pins to dry. But after the fourth tug, the wall in front of us slid open. Pretty nifty! Beyond the sliding wall, there was a dark alcove, that had a set of stairs going up. Katya and Durant started up the stairs, I followed and Gooter and Muggy trailed behind.

   I heard Gooter and Muggy giggling and turned around to see what they were on about. They were gesturing with their hands toward Katya's rump. opening and closing their fingers like lunatic lobsters reaching for.... well.... whatever lobsters really like to eat. Durant turned around too, and Gooter and Muggy started grinning at us as if they were waiting for our approval.

   If Durant gave them that satisfaction I'll never know. I just rolled my eyes, trying in my own way, to let them know that I thought they were jackasses.

   So we make it to the top of the stairs, and another wall slides open. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I was impressed by the set up! The big room was done up in classic, early masterminds secret lair, style!

   Katya, told us she designed the room her self, and she had a big smile of pride when she said it!

   A great big world map filled up one entire wall, and there was a huge oak table, which was shaped in all kinds of weird angles, with chairs to
match!

   The chairs were already filled up pretty much, and at the head of the table, in the biggest, weirdest, whiz-bangiest, chair sat Horse Shoe Hanna.

   I guessed that Dr. P. himself would join us down the road and that for now Horse Shoe was running things.

   The meeting had not been officially called to order yet, I noticed Horseshoe got up to mill around, so I asked Katya, if she had some java on. She smiled, and led me to a huge counter, that had an original Strickfaden, coffee maker! It filled up the entire counter, and had more toggles, levers and buttons, that seemed impossible for there to be a use for! And boy did it make some great joe!

   I asked Katya, if she's made a lot of dough on this place, and she told me that this is her first time to rent the place out. I told her that it was a great spread, and that I would put the word out as best I could to send more clients her way. She said thanks, and that this kind of business, thrives on word of mouth.

  After a big gulp of Java, and a good drag on a freshly lit cigarette, I made my way over to the table.

  The fact that there were only a few seats left, and no empty ones next together, kinda worked in my favor, in that I didn't have to sit next to Gooter and Muggy.

   I found an empty seat between two lugs I knew. Champ, who I go way back with, and Tully Garvin I go way, way back with, when I hung out in California.

  Tully is a good friend of Durant's, and they can have each other. Two peas in a mean pod, those two. Last I heard any thing on Tully, he was in the Sims' racket, in Turquoise City, Arizona, till he and Sims' got nabbed by that singing Marshall, Autry, back around 34.

   Champ said "Hey", Champ doesn't talk much, and Tully didn't say anything.

   Now I'll admit, I don't have a movie star face, that every body remembers, but you'd think Tully would recognize me, Especially since I was the one who pulled that great joke on him involving the hooker, the anteater and Durant, back when we were young bucks. You'd think that he would at least give me a hateful glare, but no! It was spooky, like Big Pockets, only Big Pockets still knew who I was.

  He just kept staring at the ceiling, with a worried look on his face. I looked to see if there was a scar on his forehead, but none was there.

   Finally, I tried to break the ice.

"Tully" I said "How's tricks?"

  Tully seemed to snap out of a dream and responded, "Oh sorry, were you asking me something?"

   That clinched it, first Tully Garvin never worried about anything, anything he could beat the tar out of or just shoot, and Tully Garvin, never, never apologizes for anything!

   "Oh nothing", I responded "Just talking to myself is all."

  Tully has some serious problems, and I don't want to know anything about it.

   I saw Horseshoe, making his way back towards the big, fancy, schmancy chair. On the way he was stopping at this or that person, smiling, shaking hands, asking about wives, kids, pets, what have you. He was getting near to where I was, and I was dreading it, cause I new what was coming.

   "Hi ya Clover!" he said to me, in a real loud voice. I had really hoped to avoid this. I regret ever belonging to that gang he used to be the boss of. We couldn't just do crimes with a name like the James gang, or the Capone mob. No, he had to have a theme for his gang.

  Since he was Horseshoe, he decided to call us the Lucky Charms gang, and each member had to have the name of a lucky charm.

   "This is just like old times, eh Clover!" he said even louder this time. But he's handing out the bucks, so I smiled and said "Yeah, Horseshoe, like old times". I could see Fresno Dan, smirking at me across the table.

  Oh jeez, just the memory of that is making my stomach do flip flops I've got to stop writing for awhile.