“He can wait,” Johnny grunted. “I've got to get these two under cover first.” He nodded at the bedroom, looked at his watch, and went over and tapped on the door. It opened in a moment and Micheline stood in it with her daughter in her arms.
“Mommy's been crying,” Genevieve announced in her clear voice, “and she won't tell me why.”
“That's enough out of you, young lady,” her mother said with an attempt at briskness. “We don't tell family secrets, remember?”
“I think we ought to get goin',” Johnny said to her.
She nodded. “My place?”
“I'm afraid of it. I've got a better idea. We'll-” He held up a warning hand as he heard the loud knock upon the apartment door. “Don't come out,” he said hurriedly, and closed the door. Jessamyn was looking at him inquiringly. “See who it is, Jess.”
“Who is it?” she called through the door.
“Dick Lowell,” came the muffled reply.
“Let him in,” Johnny said resignedly. “I'll get rid of him.”
Jessamyn opened the door. Mayor Lowell strolled in, beaming expansively. He looked fresh and jaunty. “Things are looking up,” he announced to Johnny. “Wonderful job you did on Kratz. Wonderful. Why didn't you call me?”
“I just this minute got in here,” Johnny lied.
The mayor was talking, not listening. “Without Kratz to shore him up,” he bubbled on, “I can call a little different tune with Daddario. I'll bet you in a day or two I'll be able-”
“Toby called me last night,” Johnny inserted.
A cloud passed over the sun. “Toby?”
“Said he's comin' up. He's a little shook at not hearin' from you about-I quote-the march of events.”
“It sounds like him. He can't come now.” Alarm vibrated in the mellow voice. “I'm just on the verge of straightening everything out. In two or three days-he simply can't come now!” He said it defiantly.
“I couldn't talk him out of it,” Johnny shrugged.
Mayor Richard Lowell circled dry lips with the tip of his tongue. “I'd better get down to the office. I'd-you'll come with me?” His tone was pleading.
What a weathervane the man was, Johnny thought. Whether his affair with the Trent woman had eroded his backbone or whether there had never been a backbone to begin with was a moot point. “I'll make it a little later,” he said. “The doc says I got to lie down a couple hours an' let these stitches set.”
“Oh. Well-you'll come soon? Maybe we can think of something. If only Toby weren't such a busybody. I must think of a way to-you haven't found Micheline?” he asked sharply.
Johnny could see Jessamyn's involuntary movement. He hoped Lowell hadn't seen it. “I thought she might have been behind the door Kratz was in front of, but she wasn't,” he said.
“It's too bad,” the mayor regretted. Reminded of Kratz, he cheered up. “Incredible that you should have been able to handle him. My secretary told me the ambulance driver said he was still unconscious upon arrival at the hospital. When I think of the verbal abuse I've taken from that-that musclebound oaf I could-well, I must run. Come as soon as you can. We must think of something that will smooth it over for Toby.”
“Give him a minute an' then run out there an' make sure he really goes,” Johnny said in a low tone to Jessamyn behind the white-maned mayor's departing back. “An' bring back a cab.”
She nodded and went out. Johnny returned to the bedroom and opened the door. Micheline spoke before he could. “Johnny, why can't we go home? I must get Genevieve some clothes.”
“The lid's not on yet,” he argued. “You want to stick your neck back in the noose? I got a place I think is safe. Stay under cover a few more hours. Toby Lowell should be on his way by now an' if he's half the man he used to be things are due to begin fallin' back into shape around here.”
“But-” She pulled herself up. “You're right. I shouldn't argue with you. If it hadn't been for you-”
“Fix the little lady up in her blanket again,” Johnny interrupted her. “I'll carry her.” He walked out to the cherry-paneled living room and listened at the door for Jessamyn's tap-tap-tap.
“He's gone,” she reported when he let her in. “He had a cab waiting. I've got one out there for you.”
“Fine.” He looked to the bedroom and then back at her. “When we go you better not hang around here. Somebody's liable to put two an' two together. Go down to the library.”
“With my eyes like this! Don't be ridiculous.”
“Get out of this place. It's only got one door,” he insisted. “Stay out in the bright sunshine. I'm not foolin'. This thing may not be over yet.”
She shook her head firmly. “I have appearances to keep up as far as my job is concerned, you know. I can't appear in public like this.”
He abandoned the argument and went to the bedroom. Genevieve stood on the bed, once again in her blanket cocoon. Johnny picked her up and her arms went around his neck. Micheline followed him back out into the other room. “Thank you,” she said gravely to Jessamyn.
“Be careful,” Johnny warned her as they left the apartment. She nodded silently. At the outer door Johnny spoke to Micheline. “Let's make this fast. The less you're seen in the daylight the better I'll like it.”
They went down the cement to the cab at a fast walk. Johnny handed the girl in to Micheline and climbed in and slammed the door. “The Gamecock,” he said to the cab driver.
CHAPTER XI
“This is close enough,” Johnny called to the taxi driver when they were within half a block of the tavern. He turned to Micheline as the cab swung into the curb. “Wait for me here. I think the boy who runs this place is ready to change horses. It'll make a perfect cover until things quiet down.”
“You won't be long?” she asked. “Being in the open on the street like this makes me-concerned.” She glanced at the child quietly watching the passersby.
“The way I'll put it to him he'll give me a 'yes' or a 'no' in about thirty seconds,” Johnny promised. “An' after I get you two salted down in there I'm goin' to get in touch with Riley. I think he's another one about ready to change horses.” He opened the door and prepared to step out on the sidewalk.
“Be careful with that man,” she warned. The planes of her striking features were all highlights and shadows as she looked up at him through the open door. He thought that she had lost weight since the first night he had seen her. “Jack Riley is much changed,” she continued earnestly. “When I saw him in New York with Dick Lowell he had assumed an arrogance I never saw in Jefferson.”
“Yeah? Well, he's had a couple bumps lately that maybe reduced his hat size.” He closed the car door. “Hang on,” he said through the partly opened window, and started up the street toward the Gamecock.
A dozen yards from the cab the import of her remark struck him. He hesitated, half turned to go back, and then reversed himself. He strode rapidly up the street. Time enough later for the other. Right now he had to get those two off the street.
He entered the tavern and tried to adjust his eyes to the dimness of the interior. When he could see, he noticed that all the booth lights were out and that only a single shirt-sleeved customer stood at the bar. The Gamecock evidently did little business in the daylight hours. So much the better.
There was no one in sight behind the bar. “Rudy around?” Johnny asked the shirtsleeved man and saw in the same instant in the back-bar mirror that the man was Rudy himself. “What the hell, man?” he said in surprise. “You workin' the front as well as the back?” Rudy turned his head to look at him but said nothing. “Listen,” Johnny hurried on, “you look to me like a man who knows which side his bread's buttered on. We both know there's goin' to be some changes in this town. Do me a favor now an' I'll see to it you're not out in the cold when it comes time-”
He stopped abruptly in his sales talk. Several things had impressed him simultaneously: the complete immobility of the gambler's dark face, the almost hushed quiet in the tavern's poorly lighted recesses, the near- rigidity of Rudy's position at the bar. Johnny backed swiftly to the door.
“That's far enough, Killain!” Johnny halted in his tracks as Tommy Savino rose from a crouching position
