James Chase - Tiger by the Tail

“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.

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 assumed 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 look-out 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 wristwatch. “Damn 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.”