me?'
'This is your mess, not mine!' Parker exclaimed.
'Is it? You are responsible. It was you who kept insinuating I should have a night out. All right, I was a damned fool to listen to your dirty suggestions, and a bigger fool to act on them. But if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't...' Ken stopped, realizing what he was saying; then, seeing Parker's horrified expression, he couldn't contain himself any longer. 'Yes, I admit it! I was with her last night! I was in her apartment, but I didn't kill her! She went into her bedroom and left me in the sitting-room ...' 'Stop it!' Parker shouted, his face twitching. 'You don't know what you are saying. I won't listen. You're trying to make me an accessory by telling me this. I won't listen I Keep me out of it! That's all I'm asking. This is your affair. It's nothing to do with me. All I ask you is not to tell them I gave you her telephone number!'
Ken stared at Parker's white, twitching face, and he suddenly gained courage from Parker's fear.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'I'll keep you out of it. But don't forget you are morally responsible. It was entirely due to you I went to her place. It is you who got me into this mess. Don't forget it. Now get out!'
Parker needed no encouragement. He hurried into the hall, opened the front door and went down the path at a shambling trot.
Moving to the window, Ken watched him go.
Well, at least he'll keep his mouth shut, he thought. He's even more frightened than I am.
But the pressure was on now. He thought with sinking heart of the shape of his future. There was Sweeting to watch out for. There was the blonde to be avoided, and now, every day, he would have to work side by side with Parker who knew he had been with Fay and who believed he had killed her. Sooner or later Ann would be back; then a new nightmare would begin for him.
He stared blindly out of the window, his fears pressing in on him. There seemed no way out, and his new- found courage deserted him.
He did something he hadn't done since he was a child. He went into his bedroom, and, kneeling down by the bed, he tried to pray.
III
Lieutenant Harry Adams walked down the dark alley that led to the entrance of the Blue Rose nightclub, his thin shoulders hunched against the rain.
He rang the bell and when the judas window slid back, he said, 'I want Sam.'
Joe, the doorman, stared at him, hesitated, then opened the door.
'I'll get him, Lieutenant,' he said.
Adams lit a cigarette and looked around the ornate lobby. The hat-check girl started towards him, suddenly recognized who he was and stopped abruptly as if she had seen a snake in her path. She went quickly into the Ladies' room.
Adams was used to this kind of reception. It mildly amused him.
A red-head in a low-cut evening dress, wearing emerald green diamondshaped frame glasses, came out of the Ladies' room, looked at him, began a professional smile which slipped off her heavily made-up lips as she caught Adams' frozen stare.
She moved hurriedly down the stairs to the restaurant, brushing past Sam Darcy as he came up.
'Evening, Lieutenant,' Darcy said, his eyes wary. 'We don't often see you here. Anything I can do, or are you here for a little relaxation?'
'I'm on duty, Sam,' Adams said, looking the big negro over. He scarcely came up to the diamond in Darcy's shirtfront, but the negro's vastness didn't appear to impress him. 'I want to talk to you. Let's go somewhere private.'
'Okay,' Darcy said reluctantly. 'Come into my office.'
He led the way down the passage and through a door into a big, luxuriously furnished room with a desk by the curtained windows.
Claudette, Darcy's wife, was counting a stack of money on the desk. Her great eyes opened wide when she saw Adams, and she looked anxiously at her husband.
'Run along, honey,' Darcy said. 'The Lieutenant and I have got business.'
She gave Adams a scared look, hurriedly pushed the money into a drawer and went out, closing the door behind her.
Adams sat down.
'Drink, Lieutenant?'
'I'm on duty, Sam.'
Darcy made himself a small whisky and soda and sat down behind his desk.
'Anything wrong?'
'Not unless you have a guilty conscience,' Adams said, staring down at his small feet. 'It's about Fay Carson.'
Darcy had already guessed that was why Adams had called. He waited, not saying anything.
'Donovan been here yet?' Adams asked.
'Yes. He was here a couple of hours ago.'
Adams nodded.
