III.

Lieutenant Harry Adams walked down the dark alley that led to the entrance of the Blue Rose nightclub, his thin shoulders hunched against the rain.

He rang the bell and when the judas window slid back, he said, "I want Sam."

Joe, the doorman, stared at him, hesitated, then opened the door.

"I'll get him, Lieutenant," he said.

Adams lit a cigarette and looked around the ornate lobby. The hatcheck girl started towards him, suddenly recognized who he was and stopped abruptly as if she had seen a snake in her path. She went quickly into the Ladies' room.

Adams was used to this kind of reception. It mildly amused him.

A redhead in a low-cut evening dress, wearing emerald green diamond shaped frame gla.s.ses, came out of the Ladies' room, looked at him, began a professional smile which slipped off her heavily made-up lips as she caught Adams' frozen stare.

She moved hurriedly down the stairs to the restaurant, brushing past Sam Darcy as he came up.

"Evening, Lieutenant," Darcy said, his eyes wary. "We don't often see you here. Anything I can do, or are you here for a little relaxation?"

"I'm on duty, Sam," Adams said, looking the big negro over. He scarcely came up to the diamond in Darcy's shirtfront, but the negro's vastness didn't appear to impress him. "I want to talk to you. Let's go somewhere private."

"Okay," Darcy said reluctantly. "Come into my office."

He led the way down the pa.s.sage and through a door into a big, luxuriously furnished room with a desk by the curtained windows.

Claudette, Darcy's wife, was counting a stack of money on the desk. Her great eyes opened wide when she saw Adams, and she looked anxiously at her husband.

"Run along, honey," Darcy said. "The Lieutenant and I have got business."

She gave Adams a scared look, hurriedly pushed the money into a drawer and went out, closing the door behind her.

Adams sat down.

"Drink, Lieutenant?"

"I'm on duty, Sam."

Darcy made himself a small whisky and soda and sat down behind his desk.

"Anything wrong?"

"Not unless you have a guilty conscience," Adams said, staring down at his small feet. "It's about Fay Carson."

Darcy had already guessed that was why Adams had called. He waited, not saying anything.

"Donovan been here yet?" Adams asked.

"Yes. He was here a couple of hours ago."

Adams nodded.

"If you see him again, don't tell him we've talked. I'm working on this independently. This could be a political jam, and it may need careful handling."

Darcy had already realized that as soon as he heard Fay had been murdered, but he didn't say so.

"That's okay, Lieutenant."

"I've always been pretty easy with you, Sam," Adams went on. "There have been times when I could have made things hot for you. There was that time the dame made an exhibition of herself. Most clubs would have been shut down after a scene like that. Then there was that shooting back in December. I guess you have had a little service from me. This might be a good time to show your appreciation."

"Anything I can do, Lieutenant, I'll do," Darcy said quietly.

Adams flicked ash on to the floor.

"I want to crack this one fast. I don't think Donovan will get very far." His cold blue eyes met Sam's. "He might get a break; stumble on something, but I doubt it. He needn't have any help from you."

"He hasn't got it up to now," Darcy said.

"Lindsay Burt could be the new political boss in a few months, certainly in a year," Adams went on. "This present set-up is on the skids. You, and to some extent me, have to look ahead. Bun could shut you down, Sam, once he got into office. This dive isn't as sweet-smelling as it could be. But if you were helpful, he might feel he owed you something. He might leave you alone."

"I understand, Lieutenant."

"Right." Adams stubbed out his cigarette, lit another and dropped the match into the ash bowl. "Did you see this Carson girl last night?"

"Yes."

"Who was she with?"

"A tall, dark, good-looking guy in a grey suit."

Adams nodded.

"That's the guy. Ever seen him before?"

"No."

"Did she say who he was?"

"No."

"Was he a friend or a client?"

"I don't know. They seemed to be getting along fine together. I've never known her to bring a client here before."

"So he could have been a friend?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant. She didn't introduce him to me, and I think she would have if he was a friend. I just don't know."

"Did he look like a guy who'd stab a girl with an icepick?"

Darcy shook his head.

"He certainly didn't. I liked the look of him."

"Maybe," Adams said, grimacing, "but it points to him. He was seen leaving her apartment about the time she died. But why should he kill her? What was she like, Sam? Would she try to blackmail a guy?"

"No." Darcy was emphatic. "She wasn't that kind of a girl at all, Lieutenant. Maybe she did go off the rails, but not to that extent. Blackmail is out."

Adams lifted his shoulders.

"Then why did he kill her? Think he was a nut?"

"He didn't look one. You can usually tell them. I was surprised to see him with Fay. He didn't look the type to be with her."

Adams brooded for a long moment.

"You've known Fay for some time, haven't you?"

"I've known her for about four years."

"Got any ideas who killed her if this guy didn't?"

Darcy shifted in his chair. He reached for his whisky, drank a little of it and sat back, nursing the gla.s.s in his enormous black hand.

"I wouldn't say this to anyone, Lieutenant, but since you've asked me, I have an idea," he said slowly. "It could be a wrong one."

"Never mind how wrong it is," Adams said. "What is it?"

"About a year ago, Fay and Johnny Dorman were always around together. He found out she was on the racket, and he beat her up. I caught him at it and stopped him. He might have killed her if I hadn't come along. He was in a pretty bad state. I had all I could do to handle him. I got his sister to come over. Fay was badly damaged. He had beaten her with a poker.

Johnny's sister got him into a home. He was there for about a year. He came out yesterday, cured. A guy I know saw him at the Paradise Club last night. He overheard Johnny asking Louie where he could find Fay. I thought maybe he was going to start trouble. I called her apartment, but couldn't get an answer." He looked hard at Adams. "It's my bet Johnny found her."

Adams sat motionless, staring down at his hands.

Johnny Dorman! He remembered him well: a fair, slim, good-looking boy who used to haunt the pool rooms on 66th Street.

"Did you tell Donovan this?"

Darcy shook his head.

"He didn't ask me for ideas."

Adams rubbed his jaw.

"Dorman: why, yes, that makes sense. Okay, I'll have him picked up. No harm in finding out where he was at the time of her death."

"You may not know it, Lieutenant," Darcy said quietly, "but Dorman's sister is going to marry Sean O'Brien."

Adams stubbed out his cigarette. His face remained expressionless.

"I didn't know." He stood up. "That could make the set-up tricky. Thanks for the information. Keep this close to your chest. I don't want anyone to know."

"No one will," Darcy said. "The guy who told me and Louie are the only two who know besides you and me, and I can take care of them."

Adams began to move slowly about the room.

"This is going to be d.a.m.ned tricky," he said. "If O'Brien finds out I want to talk to Johnny I could get blocked off. You don't know where Johnny is, do you?"

Darcy shook his head.

"Any ideas?"

"He might be holed up with his sister. She thought a lot of him in the old days."

Adams grimaced.

"That makes it worse. Yeah, he could be with her. Can you check for me, Sam? I'll have to keep out of sight on this. Will you see if you can find him for me?"

Darcy hesitated.

"It'll pay dividends," Adams went on, watching him. "I'm in with Burt. I'll see you don't do it for nothing."

"Okay," Darcy said. "I'll pa.s.s the word around. I can't promise anything. But don't get the wrong idea, Lieutenant. He probably never went near Fay last night."

"Oh, sure. All I want is ten minutes with him. Find him fast, Sam. This is urgent."

Once more out in the drenching rain, Adams walked down the alley to his car. He got in and lit a cigarette. He sat staring emptily at the lighted dashboard, his brain busy.

So Dorman's sister was going to marry O'Brien. If Dorman had killed Fay, O'Brien could be in a h.e.l.l of a spot.

Adams inhaled smoke deeply, and let it drift down his thin nostrils.

There were two ways of playing this hand, he thought. There was the long-term or the short-term policy. He could get in with O'Brien if he went to him, but it would be better to be patient and go to Burt. Before he could do either of them he had to prove Johnny Dorman did it.

He trod on the starter and the engine woke into life.

This could be big enough not only to unseat Motley, it's big enough to unseat O'Brien, he thought. This is the chance I've been waiting for, and brother! I've got to handle it right!

He engaged gear and drove fast to headquarters.