"Lieutenant Adams came to see me tonight," Sweeting said, trying to shrink even further back in the chair as she came closer, holding the gun not more than a foot from his flinching eyes. "He's sure Johnny killed Fay Carson. I told him he was wrong. I told him Maurice Yarde probably killed her."

Gilda stiffened.

"Why did you tell him that?"

"Yarde saw Fay Carson the night before last. They quarrelled. I heard him tell her he would cut her throat."

"You told Adams that ?"

"Yes. I didn't want Johnny to get into trouble. I'm an old friend of his. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt Fay. I like to look after my friends."

She stepped back, lowering the gun.

"Is that all?"

"Isn't it enough? If it hadn't been for me, the Lieutenant would still be thinking Johnny did it. I saved Johnny."

"Do you imagine that was worth five hundred dollars?"

Sweeting licked his lips.

"That depends on you," he said cautiously. "Johnny's your brother. I saved his life."

She looked at him in disgust.

"Are they still looking for him?"

"I don't know. I do know Adams is looking for Yarde. He has gone to the Washington Hotel. He thinks he'll find him there."

To his relief she moved away from him.

"I thought you might be interested to know that Yarde is in town again," he ventured. "Or perhaps you know already?"

She looked at him, her eyes dark and mysterious.

"I didn't know and I'm not interested." She opened a drawer in the desk, took out a packet of bills, from which she took four five-dollar bills. "Here take them! That's all your information is worth to me. Now, get out!"

Sweeting got unsteadily to his feet and took the money with a shaking hand.

"You couldn't spare a little more?" he whined. "I appreciate your kindness, but I am entirely without funds."

"Get out!" she repeated.

As he moved to the front door with Leo slinking at his heels, the doorbell rang sharply.

Sweeting stopped in his tracks and looked swiftly at Gilda. She stared beyond him at the door.

"Come with me!" she said sharply, and again the gun came up, threatening him. "Quickly!"

Terrified the gun might go off accidentally, Sweeting s.n.a.t.c.hed up Leo and dived through the door she had opened and into the pa.s.sage beyond.

"That takes you down to the street," she said pointing to another door at the far end of the pa.s.sage. "Get out and stay away from me!"

Sweeting scuttled down the pa.s.sage, opened the door as the frontdoor bell rang again. He glanced back over his shoulder. He wasn't too frightened to wonder who her late visitor could be. She waved impatiently at him.

As he opened the door he looked at the lock and saw it was the type he had handled before. He stepped into the pa.s.sage that led to the back stairs and shut the door sharply behind him.

He waited a moment or so, his ear against the door, then hearing the pa.s.sage door close, he felt quickly in his trousers pocket for a pick-lock, and inserted it into the keyhole. It took him only a few seconds to turn the lock, and opening the door a few inches, he cautiously peered into the pa.s.sage.

He looked back and signed to Leo to wait for him. Leaving the dog outside, Sweeting closed the door and went silently down the pa.s.sage. He paused outside the door that led into the sitting room and placed his ear against the panel.

III.

As...o...b..ien walked into the big sitting room he thought Gilda was tense and even a little frightened. He looked sharply at her.

"What's the matter, kid? Worried?"

"Of course I am," Gilda said, a little impatiently. She sat down on the couch. "Johnny's disappeared. Have you any news?"

"Yes; that's why I came over. He was waiting for me at the house when I got back."

Gilda stared at him.

"At your place?"

"Yes. I was surprised to find him there." O'Brien sat beside her. "He made terms."

"What do you mean?"

"He was quite frank. He told me he realized he was a nuisance. He is aware, too, that he could be suspected of Fay's murder. So he made me a proposition."

Gilda continued to stare at him.

"What proposition?"

O'Brien laughed.

"Do I have to tell you? You know Johnny. His main interest is money. He suggested I should finance him and he'd go on a trip around Europe."

"Did you?"

"Of course. It was cheap at the price."

"Oh, Sean you shouldn't have. I can't have him taking money from you."

"It's done now. It's the best thing that could happen. Now we're both rid of him."

"You don't mean he's gone already?"

"Yes. I've just come from the airport," O'Brien lied glibly. "There was a h.e.l.l of a scramble to get him on the plane."

"He went without saying goodbye to me?" Gilda said, looking searchingly at O'Brien.

"There wasn't time, but he scribbled a note." O'Brien took an envelope from his billfold and gave it to her. "He tried to call you, but every telephone booth was engaged. You know what it's like at an airport. So he wrote instead."

She ripped open the envelope, read the note and then laid it down.

"Was it necessary for him to leave so quickly, Sean?"

"I think so," he returned quietly. "He wanted to go, and I didn't want him snarled up with the police."

"I wish I had seen him off."

"There just wasn't time. Get him out of your mind, Gilda. I know you're fond of him, but you've got to forget him now.

He won't be back for some time. Anyway, until after we're married; and talking about marriage, let's go ahead and make it quick now. How about the end of the week?"

Her face brightened.

"Yes. Whenever you like, Sean."

He got up.

"Fine. Leave it to me. I'll get things fixed. Now go to bed and don't worry anymore. It's getting late. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what I've fixed."

Sweeting listened to all this with growing interest. So Johnny had skipped to France. And she was planning to get married. Who was this guy she called Sean? Could it be Sean O'Brien? He wished he had the nerve to open the door a crack so he could get a glimpse of Gilda's visitor, but, remembering Gilda's gun, he decided against the risk.

He heard them talking on the landing; then, a few moments later, the front door shut.

He heard Gilda cross the sitting room, turn off the lights and go into her bedroom. The door shut.

Sweeting relaxed.

He had better go. At least he now had twenty dollars. That would meet his rent, but it wouldn't leave him anything in hand. He suddenly realized how hungry he was. He hadn't had anything to eat all day, and Leo must be starving too.

No harm in seeing what she had in her icebox, he thought. A chicken or a ham would be acceptable.

Softly he tiptoed across the pa.s.sage to the kitchen door, gently turned the handle, found the light switch and turned it on.

Facing him was a ma.s.sive refrigerator, and his eyes lit up with eager antic.i.p.ation. He paused to listen, but heard nothing. Sneaking across the polished floor he took hold of the refrigerator handle, gently lifted it and pulled.

The door of the refrigerator swung back.

A thin, frightened scream came out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he jumped back, shuddering.

Sitting, hunched up on the floor of the refrigerator, his face a b.l.o.o.d.y mask, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl of death, was Maurice Yarde.

chapter thirteen.

I.

The motorboat swept insh.o.r.e, its prow clear of the water. A long white wash from the churning screws marked its pa.s.sage from the Willow Point. Tux sat in the bucket seat while Solly had charge of the wheel. For the first time in years, Tux was scared. He had fallen down on an order, and he knew what was ahead of him. O'Brien would pa.s.s the word around. Tux would be shut out, and to be shut out of O'Brien's world meant going back to small-time heists, not having police protection and scratching for a living. It wouldn't be long before he would get himself involved in a gun battle with a cop. It wouldn't be long, either, before he was on a slab in the police mortuary.

Tux ran his tongue along his dry lips at the thought. There was still a chance to rectify his mistake. If he could find Johnny, wipe him out and get rid of his body there would be no need for O'Brien ever to know Johnny had escaped from the cruiser.

But where was he to find Johnny? Would Johnny go to his sister's apartment or would he leave town? The chances were he'd leave town. Johnny was no fool. He would know Tux wouldn't rest until he found him.

The lighted waterfront was now well in view, and Tux suddenly leaned forward. "What's going on over there?" he shouted above the noise of the engine.

Solly turned his great pear-shaped head and stared.

"Looks like cops," he said. "That's a cop car."

"Better take her to Sam's jetty," Tux said. "We don't want to get snarled up with those boys."

Solly altered course, and in a few minutes he brought the motorboat alongside the jetty.

Both men scrambled up the ladder, and then hurried down the jetty to the waterfront.

Police whistles were blowing and they could hear the sound of distant sirens.

"This ain't healthy," Tux said. "Come on; let's get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"Think they're after Johnny?" Solly asked, looking along the waterfront at the distant police car and the four cops who were standing in a group, their backs turned to them.

"How do I know?" Tux snarled. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it! He could get away in this shindig." He had a sudden idea. "Maybe Seth knows what it's all about."

He set off down an alley, followed by Solly.