He recognized the tall, good-looking guy who opened the door. He had been standing next to Parker at the bank.

Scared out of his wits, Donovan thought with s.a.d.i.s.tic satisfaction. d.a.m.n funny thing. I have only to ring a bell to frighten the life out of everyone in the house.

He shoved his heavy jaw forward aggressively.

"You Holland?" he growled.

Ken nodded dumbly.

Duncan was studying him, puzzled.

He looks as if he has robbed the bank and has the proceeds in the house, he thought. What the h.e.l.l's the matter with him?

"I want to talk to Parker. Where's he live?" Donovan demanded.

Ken opened and shut his mouth, but no sound came. He stared fixedly at Donovan.

"Where does he live?" Donovan repeated, raising his voice.

Ken made an effort, gulped, then said, "Why, he's just in the next road. 145 Marshall Avenue."

Duncan took out his notebook and jotted down the address.

"Did he tell you he was going to call his wife from the pay booth this morning?" Donovan demanded.

"He - he didn't say."

"But you saw him go to the pay booth?"

"Why - yes, I did,"

"What time was that?"

"I didn't notice."

Donovan glared at him, then he turned disgustedly to Duncan.

"Come on; we're wasting time."

He strode down the path, jerked open the gate and crossed to the car.

Duncan followed him. At the gate, he turned to look back. Ken was still standing motionless in the doorway, staring after them. Then, seeing Duncan looking at him, he stepped back and hurriedly shut the front door.

chapter seven.

I.

When Commissioner Howard's car disappeared down the drive, Sean O'Brien walked slowly into the lounge and sat down. He waited, listening, and after a moment or so he heard footsteps. Gilda came into the room.

"Oh, he's gone, then," she said, but the a.s.sumed surprise in her voice didn't deceive O'Brien.

"Yes, he's gone," he said, and taking her hand, he pulled her down on to the arm of his chair. He put his arm around her waist and began to stroke her flank while he looked up at her.

Her great green cat's eyes were dark with anxiety.

"What did he want, Sean?" she asked. "Or shouldn't I ask?"

"This is the first time he has ever been here," O'Brien said, frowning. "He's an odd guy" He leaned his head against Gilda's arm. "He brought some bad news."

He felt her stiffen.

"Do you remember Fay Carson?" he went on, and looked up at her.

Her finely shaped nostrils contracted and her eyes hardened.

"Of course I do. What has she . . .?"

"Your brother and she were lovers, weren't they?"

He saw her flinch.

"But, Sean, that's ancient history now. Why bring it up?"

He abruptly got to his feet and moved away from her, his hands behind his back; a set, hard expression on his face.

"Maybe it's not so ancient. Now look, Gilda, before I say anything more about Johnny, I want you to understand our position. I don't have to tell you I'm crazy about you, and I'll do anything for you. Always remember that. You're the only woman I've ever loved. Oh, mere have been plenty of the other type, but with you, it's different. You mean more to me than anything else in life. We are going to get married soon. As you know, I am in control of the administration of this City. It's important to me that I should remain in control. Politics is a dirty game, kid. Everyone is on the lookout to cut someone's throat. The quickest way to upset a political machine is to dig up a scandal that is big enough to hit the headlines. Then the voters take notice. Do you understand?"

She sat on the arm of the chair, her hands clenched tightly between her thighs; still, white-faced and frightened.

"Yes, Sean, but what has this to do with Johnny?"

He faced her.

"I told you Howard brought some bad news. Fay Carson was murdered last night."

Gilda shut her eyes. An uncontrolled shiver ran through her.

For a long moment neither of them said anything, and only the busy ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece disturbed the silence. Then O'Brien said, "Did you know Johnny came back last night? One of my men saw him at the Paradise Club. Did you see him?"

She hesitated, not looking at him, then she nodded.

"I knew he was in town," she said, staring down at her clenched fists.

"Do you think he killed her?" O'Brien asked quietly.

She looked up, her eyes widening.

"Of course not! How could you say such a thing?" Her vehemence was completely unconvincing. They looked at each other, then Gilda looked away.

"We must be frank with each other, kid," O'Brien said. "You know as well as I do why I asked you that. Before he went to the home, he threatened to kill her. He hasn't been out more than a few hours before she's murdered. You must face facts."

Gilda sat motionless. He could see she was holding on to herself in an effort to keep control, and he went over to her and put his arm around her.

"Now take it easy. This is something you don't have to face alone. You have me. There's not much I can't fix."

"He didn't do it," she said tonelessly. "He wouldn't do a horrible thing like that."

Knowing Johnny, O'Brien thought it was just the thing he would do.

"That's only your opinion," he said gently. "He's your brother and you're fond of him, but you've got to consider what other people will think. He's got a pretty bad reputation. He behaved badly ..."

"I tell you he didn't do it!" she exclaimed, jumping up and facing him. "You talk as if you have proof ..." She stopped, her hand going to her mouth. "That policeman doesn't think he did it, does he?"

O'Brien shook his head.

"He doesn't know a thing about Johnny."

She went over to the window, her back turned to him. He watched her, experiencing the sense of pleasure the sight of her tall, slim, beautifully proportioned body always gave him.

"Then why do you think Johnny did it?" she asked.

"Look, this will get us nowhere. He was in town last night and she was murdered. It's as simple as that."

"He didn't do it!" she said fiercely, without turning.

"Did you see him last night?"

"No. He telephoned."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She turned then.

"I should have. I'm sorry, Scan, but he asked me not to. He wanted money. He said he was going to New York. I was leaving for the Casino when he called. I told him I'd meet him there and have the money for him. He didn't show up. He must have got the money from someone else."

"Did he get it from Fay?"

"No!" Her eyes flashed. "He didn't know where she lived, and he wouldn't take money from her. He never went near Fay last night."

"I hope you are right," O'Brien said soberly. "So you didn't see him?"

"I didn't."

He was far too shrewd not to see at once that she was lying. She had seen him, and she must be as convinced as he was that Johnny had murdered Fay.

This was serious. At all costs Johnny mustn't get into the hands of the police. He had to deal with this situation quickly and efficiently. Where was Johnny?"

"He's gone to New York then?" he said casually, watching her closely.

"Yes. I'm sure I shall hear from him soon," Gilda said, not looking at him.

"I see."

She was still lying to him. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be sheltering Johnny. He might be at her apartment at this moment.

"Well, so long as he is out of the way ..." he said, and looked at his wrist.w.a.tch. "d.a.m.n it! I nearly forgot. I have to call a guy. Wait for me, will you? We've got to get this thing straightened out. I won't be a minute."

He went out of the room, into his study, and closed the door. He dialled a number, and, keeping his voice down, said, "Get me Tux."

After a short delay, a hard, rasping voice said, "Yes, boss?"

"You did a swell job on that apartment house. I have another job for you. Go around to 45 Maddox Court. It's Miss Dorman's apartment. Get in there and take a look around. Don't let anyone see you. I think Johnny Dorman's there. If he is, take him away and hole him up somewhere safe. It won't be easy, but you've handled tougher jobs than this one. Take Whitey along with you. The boy gets wild under pressure."

"I'll take care of him," Tux said.

"I want him somewhere where I can get at him in a hurry. I don't want anyone to see him, and be careful how you handle him. Don't hit him on the head: his roofs not all that strong."

"Leave it to me, boss," Tux said. "I'll call you back."

O'Brien replaced the receiver, lit a cigarette and returned to the lounge.

He thought from the look of Gilda's eyes that she had been crying, and he went to sit beside her on the couch.

"You mustn't let this upset you," he said gently. "Now, let's take a look at the set-up. You've got to be frank with me, Gilda. This could turn out to be unpleasant for both of us. We've got to think of ourselves. There are one or two things I want you to tell me about. Some time ago there was trouble between you and Fay and Johnny. At the time I felt it wasn't my business, but now it could be my business and I want to know what it was all about. You've got to remember that I have a lot of enemies. They know we're planning to get married. If they could put Johnny on a spot they'll do it to get at me. I must know the facts. I don't want them sprung on me. Someone might remember that Johnny threatened to kill Fay, and the police might be forced to dig into his past. I want to know what happened between you and Fay and Johnny. All I know is he suddenly went haywire and you put him in a home. I want the inside story, Gilda. I must have it."

"If Johnny is in trouble," she said quietly, "you don't have to marry me, Sean."

"I'm going to marry you," O'Brien said, looking fixedly at her. "That's about the one thing in life I am sure about. But I'm going to avoid trouble if I can. I must know what it was all about. Will you tell me?"

She lifted her shoulders wearily.

"Of course. It's all very sordid, but I have nothing to hide. I would have told you before if you had asked." She reached for a cigarette; accepted the light he offered, and went on, "Fay and I were once good friends. We shared an apartment. I did a little singing; she did a dancing act with her partner, Maurice Yarde. She was crazy about him. He wasn't the type of man any girl should be crazy about. He was selfish and utterly unscrupulous. One day she brought him to the apartment and introduced him to me. From that moment I never had a second's peace. He followed me everywhere. You can't imagine how crude he was. He forced himself on me. Fay wouldn't believe I wasn't encouraging him, and she quarrelled with me. Nothing I could say would convince her. She quarrelled with him, too. I left the apartment, but still he kept after me. Finally, I left town. He was so furious with Fay for interfering, he broke up the dance act and also left town. When I heard he had gone, I came back. Fay wouldn't have anything to do with me, and I wasn't sorry because she had gone completely off the rails. She wouldn't go on with her dancing, and she turned to men for money. One day she ran into Johnny, who was just out of the army. I don't have to tell you what a dreadful time he had had during the war. It left him unbalanced; he drank too much and got into violent rages. I was the only one who could handle him. Fay found out he was my brother, but he didn't find out what she was. She made up her mind to hook him to get even with me. She did hook him. I warned him about her, but he wouldn't listen. He became as crazy about her as she had been about Yarde. He wanted to marry her, but she held him off; neither refusing nor accepting him. Then one of his friends gave him her card, telling him if he wanted a girl, he could recommend her. I guess Johnny went off his head. He rushed around to her apartment, and if Sam Darcy hadn't arrived soon after, Johnny might have killed her. She was terribly beaten up. Sam got him under control and sent for me. I got Johnny into a home. Well, you know the rest of it, Sean. Johnny stayed in the home for nearly a year. The doctors have told me he has made a complete recovery. I was going there to bring him home, but he forestalled me. He got back last night."

O'Brien rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"So Sam Darcy knows about Johnny and Fay?"