'And what is this information?'
Sweeting smirked.
'Surely you don't expect me to tell you that without the money or the jewellery, Miss Dorman? From experience I find women have no sense of honour.'
She looked at him for a long moment. There was something cat-like in her stillness that made Sweeting feel a little uneasy.
'Then I suppose I'll have to see what I have. Will you wait?'
She went into another room.
Sweeting took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his aching eye.
Perhaps his technique wasn't as good as it used to be, he thought uneasily. He had never had so much trouble before. First, Holland had been violent and had thrown him out, and now this girl was being suspiciously difficult.
The first indication he had that he had lost control of the situation came from Leo, who suddenly bolted off his lap and dived under the couch.
Sweeting hurriedly looked over his shoulder.
Gilda was standing in her bedroom doorway, a .38 automatic in her hand, its blue nose pointing at Sweeting's head.
Sweeting froze at the sight of the gun. If he had a horror of violence, guns terrified him. His heart seemed to turn over, and he shrank back in his chair, his fat face turning grey.
Gilda came over and stood over him.
'What's your information?' she said. 'You'd better talk, you little rat, or I'll shoot you in the leg and tell the night clerk you broke in here.'
Sweeting nearly fainted with fright.
'Take care,' he quavered. 'That gun might go off. Please put it down. I'll be only too glad to tell you what I know.'
'Talk!' Her voice cracked like a whiplash. 'What do you know about my brother?'
'Lieutenant Adams came to see me tonight,' Sweeting said, trying to shrink even further back in the chair as she came closer, holding the gun not more than a foot from his flinching eyes. 'He's sure Johnny killed Fay Carson. I told him he was wrong. I told him Maurice Yarde probably killed her.'
Gilda stiffened.
'Why did you tell him that?'
'Yarde saw Fay Carson the night before last. They quarrelled. I heard him tell her he would cut her throat.'
'You told Adams that ?'
'Yes. I didn't want Johnny to get into trouble. I'm an old friend of his. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt Fay. I like to look after my friends.'
She stepped back, lowering the gun.
'Is that all?'
'Isn't it enough? If it hadn't been for me, the Lieutenant would still be thinking Johnny did it. I saved Johnny.'
'Do you imagine that was worth five hundred dollars?'
Sweeting licked his lips.
'That depends on you,' he said cautiously. 'Johnny's your brother. I saved his life.'
She looked at him indisgust.
'Are they still looking for him?'
'I don't know. I do know Adams is looking for Yarde. He has gone to the Washington Hotel. He thinks he'll find him there.'
To his relief she moved away from him.
'I thought you might be interested to know that Yarde is in town again,' he ventured. 'Or perhaps you know already?'
She looked at him, her eyes dark and mysterious.
'I didn't know and I'm not interested.' She opened a drawer in the desk, took out a packet of bills, from which she took four five-dollar bills. 'Here take them! That's all your information is worth to me. Now, get out!'
Sweeting got unsteadily to his feet and took the money with a shaking hand.
'You couldn't spare a little more?' he whined. 'I appreciate your kindness, but I am entirely without funds.'
'Get out!' she repeated.
As he moved to the front door with Leo slinking at his heels, the doorbell rang sharply.
