asked her.
“S-Savino.” Her face crumpled and she started to cry. “Everything you s-said about them is true. He t-talked his way in here last night and beat me up because I hadn't s-stopped seeing you. They're th-thugs, all of them. Jim, too. I h-hate them. Ask me anything. I'll tell you the whole awful s-story.”
“Micheline?” he asked quietly.
“Tim has her little girl at his apartment so that he can control her. After the first telephone call from New York Jim knew he was in trouble. He forced the maid with whom Micheline had left the little girl to bring her to his place. He flew to New York and found Micheline at the Taft and made her call the maid and dismiss her. He threatened to keep her separated from her daughter if she didn't do what he said. He was desperate. He'd built up-”
Johnny held up a hand. “I get most of the picture, but where's Micheline?”
“I don't know where she's been staying. Jim wouldn't let her stay at her own apartment. She comes to see her daughter every day.”
“I've got the kid outside,” Johnny said casually, watching her face.
It was seconds before she reacted. “The daughter? You have her with you? Outside where? Here?” The words tumbled out over each other. “Is that why you look like this? I thought they'd jumped you-for God's sake, bring her in before Kratz or Savino happen along!” She flushed at his steady regard. “Listen, I may be no damn good, but on this you can trust me, I hope!”
“Be right back,” he said, and let himself out the door. He approached the silent chair in the lobby and watched apprehensive gray eyes brighten as he bent down and picked her up in her blanket cocoon. “Everything's copacetic, sugar-foot,” he told her, hoisting her aloft.
“Is my mother here?” she asked eagerly.
“I'm goin' to get her just as soon as we get you tucked in the sack.” Johnny ducked so the girl wouldn't bump her head as he carried her into the apartment. Jessamyn, her dark glasses restored, slapped the chain latch back on the door. “Genevieve, this is a friend of ours, Miss Jessie.” He handed the blanketed small figure to Jessamyn.
“Let's go in my room, dear,” the librarian said. Genevieve nodded shy acquiescence. On the way, Jessamyn looked over her shoulder at Johnny. “I've called a doctor in the next building about your face. He'll be right over. You can let him in.”
“First I got to-” Johnny began, and paused at a rap at the door.
“There he is now.” Jessamyn disappeared into the bedroom. Johnny admitted the doctor and reluctantly submitted to his ministrations. He gave the accompanying questions short shrift. Jessamyn reappeared during the application of the last of five stitches distributed two, two, and one in three different locations. The doctor took his disapproving departure and Johnny sat up on the couch that had served as an operating table.
“I'm goin' back to Daddario's,” he said, reaching for his undershirt. He worked it on gently over his head.
“Your ear looks horrible,” Jessamyn said with. a little shudder. The import of his words reached her. “Jim's? You can't go back there! Kratz-”
“I saw Kratz. We split a hair or two. To make sure of gettin' the kid out of there I had to leave without talkin' to Daddario. He's the only one can tell me where Micheline is.” Johnny stood up. His face felt as if it were on fire and his body ached. He looked at Jessamyn. “Tell me somethin'. Why would Riley offer me a thousand to find Micheline?”
“Riley? Jack Riley offered you-” She shook her head when she saw that he was serious. “I just don't know. I'm not surprised Jim didn't let him know, but why would Jack want to know?”
“He was in New York the day Thompson was killed,” Johnny suggested, watching her.
“Riley hires his troublemakers. Or he always has.”
Johnny grunted. “I don't see how he could've knifed Thompson, anyway. None of those people should've been able to get within forty rods of Thompson, let alone close enough to shiv him.”
“You sound so-casual about it,” she protested.
He looked at his watch, paying her no attention. “Riley's money should be up with Rudy by now if he was levelin'. What's the name of that tavern that fronts for the gamblin' joint?”
“The Gamecock.”
“I'll look it up in the book. I'd like to know.”
“The number is Edison 7-9490.”
“Thanks.” He paused on his way to the phone. “How the hell would you know that off-hand?”
She refused to look at him. “I keep the books for that place. Both operations. The license is in my mother's name.” Her voice was low. “In the beginning it seemed all right because Jim and I were going to be married. Afterward- well, I just couldn't say 'no' to the money.”
“Not many can,” Johnny said. He went to the phone and dialed. “Rudy,” he said, and waited. “Rudy? Someone leave a thousand with you this mornin' for-”
“Got it right here,” the gambler's bass interrupted. “An' lissen, Killain. No names, but I just had a guy here broadcastin' he's goin' to lay you out in lavender when he catches up to you. Slim, dark job.”
Savino, Johnny thought. “It'd make my day complete to have him try it,” he said grimly. “Thanks, Rudy.” He replaced the phone and looked at Jessamyn. “When did this town go wrong?”
“About four years ago.” She said it tiredly. “It started just in a small way with Dick Lowell and Jim Daddario milking the gamblers. Girl Thompson managed it for them. Gradually it got bigger. Dick had needed money because of Dorothy Trent. Then he needed a lot of money. They set out to organize everything and in the process Jim saw that with Dick in trouble he could take over the whole thing for himself-”
“An' because Thompson wouldn't go along with the idea of derailin' Lowell, Daddario had to get rid of him. Haven't you asked yourself if he didn't have to finish the job down in New York?”
“I've been afraid to.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I'd be an accessory, wouldn't I?” He couldn't see her eyes behind the dark glasses but he could hear the tears in her voice. “I never thought there c-could be anything like murder — ”
“We don't know that he did it. Yet.” Johnny moved to the door. “Lock this thing behind me an' don't open it for anyone but me, understand?” He nodded at the bedroom. “Don't let me down.”
“What do you think I am?” she flared, and subsided at once. “All right-I had it coming.” She sounded beaten down to her knees. “I promise nothing will happen to her. You can believe it or not.”
“If I didn't believe it I wouldn't leave her here. I'll be back just as quick as I can make it.”
“Don't-” He closed the door from the outside upon whatever she had been about to say.
He had to walk three blocks before he caught a cab. The cold wind bored at his stitched face. He speculated on the chance of Savino's going back to Jessamyn's. It didn't seem likely. It should be the safest place in town for the child right now. If he hurried.
The blonde in the lobby of Daddario's apartment remembered him. Her eyes widened. “The police are looking for you,” she said before she thought, and reached for a switch. Johnny stepped forward and caught her hand in his. “Let's you 'n me take a little ride upstairs,” he suggested.
“No!” She couldn't take her eyes from his face.
He maneuvered her out from behind the switchboard and up the three carpeted steps to the penthouse elevator. “Daddario up there?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she whispered, shrinking into a corner. Johnny pushed the button and the elevator started up. “You let me out of here!” she cried in sudden panic. “You've got no right-”
“Who else?” His hard voice cut across hers. “Who else is up there?” he repeated when she stared at him blankly.
“Only Mrs. Thompson.”
“Only Mrs. Thompson,” Johnny said. He rolled the irony on his tongue. He grinned at the shivering blond girl. “Well, now-who else do we need?” He felt rejuvenated.
The elevator came to its non-jarring stop and the doors slid open noiselessly. With her eyes on Johnny she didn't see the room come into view behind her. At the hoarse masculine scream practically in her ear she leaped convulsively, her face saffron. She fainted in mid-air; Johnny had to lunge to catch her and lower her to the floor of the elevator cab.
He started out into the room and a woman's voice froze him. “That's to show you I'm not fooling, Jim. Where is she?”
