‘I’m going to the waterfront,’ Dal as said. ‘Coming?’
‘Leave it to the River Police,’ Olin said shortly. ‘I tipped them off before I left.’
‘That’s where she’s going to be found,’ Dal as said, ‘and that’s where I’m going.’
Olin shrugged, but followed Dallas to the end of the alley into what appeared to be a cul-de-sac.
‘You won’t get to the river this way,’ Olin grunted.
Dallas swung his flashlight beam on the ground.
‘There’s been a car here. Look, tyre and oil marks. Where’s that lead to?’ He flashed his light on a low, dark archway. ‘Come on, let’s take a look.’
Olin followed him through the archway into an evil-smelling passage. In the mud and slush that covered the floor they could see footprints.
‘Someone’s been here, and recently,’ Dallas said.
He began to mount the stone steps at the end of the passage, stopped and sniffed.
‘Gunpowder!’ he exclaimed. ‘Can you smell it?’
‘Do you imagine I haven’t got a nose?’ Olin growled, jerking out his gun. ‘Get out of the way. I’ll handle this.’
He ran up the rest of the steps into a vast, barn-like room with Dallas on his heels. The smell of gunpowder hung in the thick atmosphere. Among the other smells Dallas imagined he could smell musk.
‘Look at that!’ Olin barked, dropping the flashlight beam to the floor. A dark-brown stain made an irregular pattern on the dirty boards: close by was a small pile of half-burned matches.
‘That’s blood.’
Dallas spotted a door in the wall. He went over to it, pushed it open. He found himself looking down at the dark waters of the river, some thirty feet below.
‘He kil ed her and threw her out this way,’ he said, through clenched teeth.
Olin joined him.
‘Looks like it,’ he said. ‘There’s the river boys. We’d bet er get them working here.’ He flashed his light on and off. In the distance a light answered. ‘They’l be up in a couple of minutes. Wait here and guide them in. I’l get my lot together.’
Dallas sat on the floor, flashing his light on and off. At the back of the building he could hear Olin’s whistle. The lights of the police launch came closer. By the time Olin had returned, the police launch was bobbing up and down just below where Dallas was sitting.
‘There’s a body down there somewhere,’ Olin shouted. ‘It was thrown in from here. Get busy and find it. It couldn’t have drifted far.’
A powerful searchlight was turned on that lit up a big expanse of water. It made Dallas feel sick to think that Zoe was somewhere in that dark, oily grave. He sat there, smoking, for a long time, while the River Police threw out their drags and systematically combed the river.
It was over an hour before they found Zoe. By that time both Olin and Dallas had joined them on the launch.
‘Here she is,’ one of the River Police said, as the drags came in. Gently he and another cop rolled Zoe’s half- naked body off the hooks.
‘This the one you want?’ the sergeant asked, looking up at Olin.
‘Is it ?’Olin asked Dallas.
‘I guess so,’ Dallas said huskily.
Zoe had been shot through the head. The big .45 slug had torn a chunk of her skull away. She didn’t look like the Zoe he had played around with. He stood staring down at her, a cold, sick feeling creeping over him.
‘Looks like someone’s been burning her,’ Olin said, in a hushed voice. ‘Look at the state she’s in.’
The sergeant tossed a blanket over Zoe’s broken and tortured body. His usual y red, cheerful face looked a little green.
‘Wel , what are we waiting for?’ Dal as said, his voice rasping. ‘Let’s go get those two bastards.’
V
Baird saw a flash of flame in the driving mirror; at the same instant there came a crash of breaking glass. Glass splinters flew inside the car like shrapnel.
Rico cried out as he ducked down on the floor of the car. Automatically Baird’s foot trod down hard on the gas pedal. The big Buick surged forward, and he whipped it around the bend in the causeway.
He sent the big car hurtling along the narrow road. He could feel blood running down the side of his neck from a cut from a glass splinter, and he swore softly.
‘What is it?’ Rico quavered from the floor of the car. ‘Who shot at us?’
‘How the hel do I know?’ Baird snarled.
But he was quick to realise what this meant. Someone had been close by when he had shot that damned spying red-head. A car like Rico’s could easily be identified. If whoever it was cal ed the cops, and they found the body before the current took it away, Rico would be on the spot. Baird hadn’t any illusions about Rico keeping his trap shut. Any tough cop could make Rico sing like a canary, and Rico would try to pin the whole weight of the killing on Baird.
He kicked Rico hard in the ribs.
