Tiger by the Tail Page 15

  Ken followed him into a ground-floor, comfortably furnished sittingroom.

  “Make yourself at home,” Adams said, tossing his hat on to a chair. “Have a drink?”

  “I don’t understand what all this is about,” Ken said, facing him. “Why have you brought me here? I want to make a statement to the officer in charge of the murder. Who are you?”

  Adams smiled as he fixed two highballs.

  “I’m Lieutenant Adams of the Homicide Department. Take it easy. You don’t know it yet, but the last thing you want to do is to make a statement to the officer in charge of the Carson killing. He’s got a one-track mind. Now sit down and stop wasting time. I want your story. I want to know who you are, how you met Fay Carson and what happened last night. Don’t rush it. I want as many details as you can remember. Now start talking.”

  Ken made his statement. He told Adams what had happened the previous evening, omitting no details, and as he came to the end of his story there was something about the little Lieutenant’s expression that gave him hope.

  “I know I have behaved badly,” he concluded, “and I’m paying for it, but I didn’t kill her. I should have come to you before this, but I funked it. I wasn’t so much thinking of myself, I had to think of my wife. I wanted to keep it from her, but I don’t see how I can now.”

  Adams stared at him for a long minute, then he pulled thoughtfully at his nose.

  “If I were married, which fortunately I’m not,” he said, “and if I had been mug enough to have gone to a callgirl, I would have acted as you did in the same circumstances.”

  “Does that mean you believe me?” Ken asked eagerly.

  Adams shrugged.

  “It doesn’t matter a damn if I believe you or not. The final word is with the jury. Now, let’s check on a few details. You had no idea there was someone else in the apartment beside you until the lights went out?”

  “No idea at all.”

  “You didn’t see this guy?”

  “No. It was pitch dark. I heard him cross the room and bolt downstairs, but I hadn’t a chance of seeing him.”

  “You didn’t hear her cry out?”

  “There was a thunderstorm on. I don’t think I should have heard her if she had cried out.”

  “Hmm…” Adams crossed one leg over the other, then asked, “This fat guy with the Pekinese: is he bald with a hooked nose and pointed ears?”

  Ken looked startled.

  “Why, yes. That exactly describes him. Do you know him?”

  “I know him,” Adams said. “You don’t have to worry about him. He won’t give you any trouble. He’s only been out of jail six months. You can forget about him.”

  “You mean he was bluffing?”

  “Sure,” Adams said, and took a cautious sip from his glass. “He saw you last night going up and coming down. He might have seen this other guy. Did you ask him?”

  Ken shook his head.

  “I didn’t think of it.”

  “I’ll ask him,” Adams said grimly. “You’ve told me everything? There’s nothing else you can remember?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ken said, thought for a moment, then he remembered the tall, fair man who had ducked out of sight when he and Fay had come out of the Blue Rose. “There was a guy outside the Blue Rose I noticed. He seemed anxious not to be seen. He was tall and fair and good-looking. When he saw I had spotted him, he ducked back out of sight.”

  Adams frowned.

  “Tall, fair and good-looking?” he asked, and he was thinking of Johnny Dorman. “Would you know him again?”

  “I think so. The light wasn’t too good, but I think I would.”

  “Nothing else?”

  Ken shook his head.

  There was a long silence, then Ken asked, “Do you believe my story, Lieutenant?”

  “Sure, it hangs together and makes sense, but don’t kid yourself that puts you in the clear. You’re in a hell of a jam; a far worse jam than you imagine.”

  As Ken began to ask him what he meant, the telephone bell rang.

  “Let me get this,” Adams said, and picked up the receiver.

  “Yeah? What is it?” he said into the mouthpiece. He lay back in the easy chair, listening to the excited voice that came over the line. “Okay, sergeant. I’ll be right over. Yeah, if Donovan isn’t there, someone’s got to be. Okay, I’m coming,” and he hung up. He looked at Ken and grimaced. “There’s a general call out for you. They’ve found your suit and shoes at Gaza’s store. My two bright assistants have also found your car and the card Parker gave you with Carson’s telephone number on it. Right now every cop in town is looking for you.”

  Ken sat rigid.

  “But they can’t prove I killed her!” he exclaimed. “You believe me! You’ve just said so. You can call them off…”

  Adams lit his cigarette, stretched out his short legs and shook his head.

  “Know anything about politics, Mr. Holland?” he asked.

  “What has politics to do with this?”

  “Everything. You’d better get a picture of the set-up.” He sank further into the chair. “The boss behind the present Administration is a guy named Sean O’Brien. He intends to marry Gilda Dorman, a nightclub crooner. O’Brien has money, power and ability. If he wants anything, he has it, and nothing stands in his way. He wants this woman. Her brother is Johnny Dorman who was Fay Carson’s lover before he was put in a nut-house. He came out yesterday. He was the guy who killed Fay Carson. I can’t prove it yet, but I’ll bet my last buck he was the guy. O’Brien isn’t likely to let him go to the chair for murder. He’ll cover him up, and he can do it. He’ll look around for a fall guy, and the fall guy is you.”

  Ken stared at him.

  “You must be joking,” he said blankly.

  “It’s no joke. You’ll find that out fast enough. What O’Brien says goes in this town. Sergeant Donovan will turn in a report. The Commissioner will hand it over to O’Brien. They have a certain amount of evidence against you. Any other evidence in your favour will be suppressed. They have enough on you to put you into the chair right now.”

  Ken grappled with the feeling of rising panic.

  “Then why are you telling me this? Why don’t you go ahead and arrest me?” he said angrily. “You’re a member of the police. Why bring me here?”

  Adams crossed and uncrossed his legs.

  “I happen to be in the opposition camp. I guess I must be crazy to stick my neck out, but that’s the way it is. If I could pull the rug from under O’Brien I would do it. I have an idea I might do it through you. If I can prove Dorman killed this Carson girl, I might force O’Brien to show his hand. Dorman’s sister would put pressure on O’Brien, and he might make a false move. I want my men to be hunting you so I can hunt Dorman. That’s why I’ve brought you here. It’s essential they don’t catch you before I catch him. I want to get Lindsay Burt interested in you. He’ll take care of you if I can convince him you are being framed. But you’ve got to have patience. This could take a few days, even a few weeks. You’re safe here, but don’t go showing yourself on the streets. My men are efficient. They’re looking for you, and they’ll find you if you show yourself.”

  “But my wife will be coming home soon,” Ken said anxiously. “I’ve my job to think of. You can’t expect me…”

  Adams raised his hand.

  “Wait a minute. I’ve told you already: you’re in a jam. Your wife and your job aren’t important. It’s your life you have to think of. If they catch you, you’re through, and don’t forget it!”

  “But this is fantastic! Suppose you don’t find Dorman? What happens to me?”

  “We’ll think about that when the time comes.”

  “What about my wife?”

  “You should have thought about her before you played around with Fay Carson.” Adams finished his drink and set down his glass. “Now, take it easy. You stay here. I’m going back to headquarters. I want to find out what they are doing.”

&nb
sp; “I forgot to tell you I saw Gilda Dorman at the Blue Rose that night,” Ken said. “Did you know she and Fay Carson once shared an apartment together?”

  Adams put on his hat.

  “I didn’t know, but I can’t see it has anything to do with our problem. You take it easy. Leave this to me.”

  “I’d better see a lawyer,” Ken said uneasily.

  “Plenty of time to see a lawyer. Relax, can’t you? You’re safe here. Go to bed. The spare room is through that door. I’ve got to go,” Adams said, and nodding, he left the apartment.

  Ken got to his feet, went over to the window and watched the Lieutenant drive away. His mind was in a whirl. This was an incredible position to be in. He had a disturbing idea that Adams was only using him as a political pawn. If the gamble came off, all would be well, but if it didn’t, then Adams might wash his hands of him.

  He thought of Ann returning to the empty bungalow. He couldn’t remain in this apartment indefinitely. The best thing he could do was to consult a

  first-class attorney and put himself into his hands.

  He was still trying to make up his mind which attorney to go to when the telephone bell rang. He hesitated for a moment, then, thinking it might be Adams to tell him what was happening at headquarters, he lifted the receiver.

  “That you, Lieutenant?” A deep, rich voice, which Ken instantly recognized as Sam Darcy’s, whispered in his ear. “The Lieutenant’s out. I think he’s at headquarters.” There was a pause, then Darcy said, “Can you take a message?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Okay, tell him a guy who looked like Johnny Dorman was seen on Tux’s cruiser, Willow Point. My man only caught a glimpse of him and he won’t swear it was Johnny.”

  Ken felt a tingle of excitement run up his spine.

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “The cruiser’s anchored in the estuary. He’ll know.”

  “Okay,” Ken said, and hung up.

  For a long moment he stood thinking, then he put a call through to police headquarters.

  “Give me Lieutenant Adams,” he said to the desk sergeant.

  “He’s not here. Who’s calling?”

  “He’s on his way down. Hasn’t he arrived yet?”

  “He’s been in and he’s gone out again. What is it?”

  Ken replaced the receiver.

  Suppose Dorman left the cruiser before he could tell Adams where he was? he thought. If he were to get out of this jam, he had to help himself.

  He would go to the waterfront and watch the cruiser until Adams came.

  He went to Adams’ desk, wrote down Darcy’s message, added that he was going to try to find the Willow Point and urged Adams to come as quickly as he could. He left the message on the table, grabbed his hat and left the apartment. He cautiously opened the front door.

  Rain was falling, and the wet darkness gave him a feeling of security. He went down the steps and, turning left, he walked as quickly as he could towards the river.

  CHAPTER VI

  I

  Sean O’Brien tapped on Gilda’s dressing-room door, waited a moment, then turned the handle and entered.

  Gilda was changing. She reached hurriedly for her wrap, then changed her mind when she saw O’Brien, and went to him quickly.

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling at her. “I should have waited a little longer.”

  “Is it all right, Sean?” she asked, her great green eyes dark with anxiety.

  “Of course.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “You should lock the door, kid. Anyone could have walked in.”

  “I thought I had. What happened, Sean?” She moved back to the dressingtable while he watched her, thinking how beautiful she was.

  “Manchini won’t worry you again. I’ve had a scare thrown into him, and he scares fast.”

  She slipped into a simple white evening dress that made her look, to O’Brien’s eyes, much more seductive dian when she was wearing her nightclub finery.

  “I don’t know what I should do without you,” she said, going to the dressing-table and sitting down.

  He laughed.

  “That’s what I’m here for.” He took a cigar from his case, sat down and slowly removed the band. “So Manchini saw Johnny last night?”

  “That’s what he said, but I don’t believe him". He was trying to scare me into taking him back to my apartment.”

  “Then you don’t think he gave Johnny Fay’s address?”

  She hesitated, then turned to face him.

  “I know he didn’t. Darling, forgive me, I didn’t tell you the truth about Johnny. I did see him last night. He was at my apartment when I returned from the Casino. He’s scared of you, Sean. He dunks you made me put him in the home. He made me promise not to tell you I had seen him. I’ve told him over and over again you had nothing to do with putting him in the home, but he doesn’t believe me. He stayed the night with me. That’s why I know he couldn’t have killed Fay.”

  O’Brien nodded, and wondered why she continued to lie to him.

  “You should have told me that before, kid. Never mind. Is he still at your place?”

  “No. He’s gone. I’m worried, Sean. He left no note. He’s just vanished. You don’t think the police have arrested him?”

  O’Brien shook his head.

  “Of course not. I should have heard. Relax, kid. He’s probably decided to get out of town. Didn’t you say he was going to New York?”

  “He did say he might go, but he hadn’t any money. That’s what worries me. He can’t have gone to New York…”

  “How do you know he hasn’t borrowed money from someone? He always was an opportunist. Don’t worry about him. He can take care of himself. Come and have supper with me.”

  “Not tonight, Sean. I want to go home. He may have returned.”

  O’Brien lifted his shoulders good-humouredly.

  “Okay. Do you want me to come back with you?”

  “I’d rather go back alone.”

  “Anything you say, kid.”

  He got out of the chair and handed her her wrap.

  “I’ll see if I can find out anything. If I get news of him I’ll call you.”

  “You’re terribly good to me, Sean.”

  She raised her face and he kissed her.

  “It’s my job to be good to you.”

  When she had driven away in a taxi, O’Brien walked slowly over to the parking lot, got into his Cadillac and stared emptily into the darkness.

  Johnny was a nuisance, he decided. He always would be a nuisance. Even if he were lucky enough to get out of this mess, there would be other messes. Sooner or later he would get into the kind of trouble O’Brien couldn’t handle. It was a bleak outlook to be saddled with a brother-in-law like Johnny. Now he had Johnny where he wanted him, he would be a mug not to settle him once and for all.

  He brooded for several minutes, playing with the idea of being rid of Johnny for good. The more he thought about it, the more of a temptation the idea became.

  In the past, O’Brien had never hesitated to get rid of troublemakers, but he had got out of the habit of wiping out his enemies. He should have let Tux knock off Paradise Louie instead of beating him up. The quiet, secluded life he had been living for the past three years had made him soft, he thought, grimacing. With a set-up like this before him he couldn’t afford to be soft. He knew Lindsay Burt would try and make capital out of Fay’s murder. Someone in his camp would be certain to remember Johnny had threatened Fay, and knowing Johnny was Gilda’s brother and Gilda was going to marry O’Brien, pressure would be brought to bear on the Commissioner to find Johnny.

  Besides, O’Brien had no illusions about Johnny. As soon as he became his brother-in-law, he would be after money. The safest way would be to make sure Johnny didn’t become a bigger nuisance that he was now.

  O’Brien lit his cigar, started the car engine and drove over to the Country Club.

  On the first of every month there was a dance at the cl
ub, and everyone who was anyone went. O’Brien guessed Commissioner Howard and Police

  Captain Motley would be there. He wanted the latest news of the murder before finally deciding what he was to do with Johnny.

  He could see the crowd of dancers through the big windows as he drove around the circular drive. The dance would go on until the small hours: there would be a lot of drinking and necking, and probably some horseplay by the young members.

  O’Brien wasn’t interested in this kind of shindig, but he usually put in an appearance. All the party members went, and it was an opportunity to have a private word without the press wondering what was being said.

  He drove into the parking lot, that was packed solid with cars. He got out and glanced up at the dark, swollen clouds. It would rain before long, he thought, as he made his way along the narrow gangway between the cars.

  He became aware of a man and woman ahead of him. The woman held a car door open. He thought he recognized her in the half light, and paused to look more intently.

  “If you’re going to behave like a goddamn dummy, I’m going back,” the woman said in a shrill, angry voice. She sounded drunk to O’Brien.

  “We’ve got to be sensible, Gloria,” the man said anxiously. “Your husband may be coming out. Can’t we wait until he’s gone?”

  “I’m damned if I’m going to wait,” the woman said, and got into the back seat of the car. “Are you coming?”

  The man got in beside her and shut the car door. O’Brien saw the woman throw her arms around him and pull him to her, and he made a little grimace. Commissioner Howard’s young wife and some punk, he thought. Well, the old fool shouldn’t have married a girl half his age.

  He went on towards the club house.

  He found Commissioner Howard and Motley on the verandah.

  Motler was saying impatiently, “For the love of Mike, let the girl alone. She’s enjoying herself somewhere. If we’re going, let’s go.”

  “Leaving already?” O’Brien said, coming out of the darkness.

  “Hello, there,” Motley said, turning. “I have news for you. Donovan’s cracked the Carson case!”