Sweeting stopped in his tracks and looked swiftly at Gilda. She stared beyond him at the door.
'Come with me!' she said sharply, and again the gun came up, threatening him. 'Quickly!'
Terrified the gun might go off accidentally, Sweeting snatched up Leo and dived through the door she had opened and into the passage beyond.
'That takes you down to the street,' she said pointing to another door at the far end of the passage. 'Get out and stay away from me!'
Sweeting scuttled down the passage, opened the door as the front-door bell rang again. He glanced back over his shoulder. He wasn't too frightened to wonder who her late visitor could be. She waved impatiently at him.
As he opened the door he looked at the lock and saw it was the type he had handled before. He stepped into the passage that led to the back stairs and shut the door sharply behind him.
He waited a moment or so, his ear against the door, then hearing the passage door close, he felt quickly in his trousers pocket for a pick-lock, and inserted it into the keyhole. It took him only a few seconds to turn the lock, and opening the door a few inches, he cautiously peered into the passage.
He looked back and signed to Leo to wait for him. Leaving the dog outside, Sweeting closed the door and went silently down the passage. He paused outside the door that led into the sitting-room and placed his ear against the panel.
III
As O'Brien walked into the big sitting-room he thought Gilda was tense and even a little frightened. He looked sharply at her.
'What's the matter, kid? Worried?'
'Of course I am,' Gilda said, a little impatiently. She sat down on the couch. 'Johnny's disappeared. Have you any news?'
'Yes; that's why I came over. He was waiting for me at the house when I got back.'
Gilda stared at him.
'At your place?'
'Yes. I was surprised to find him there.' O'Brien sat beside her. 'He made terms.'
'What do you mean?'
'He was quite frank. He told me he realized he was a nuisance. He is aware, too, that he could be suspected of Fay's murder. So he made me a proposition.'
Gilda continued to tare at him.
'What proposition?'
O'Brien laughed.
'Do I have to tell you? You know Johnny. His main interest is money. He suggested I should finance him and he'd go on a trip around Europe.'
'Did you?'
'Of course. It was cheap at the price.'
'Oh, Sean you shouldn't have. I can't have him taking money from you.'
'It's done now. It's the best thing that could happen. Now we're both rid of him.'
'You don't mean he's gone already?'
'Yes. I've just come from the airport,' O'Brien lied glibly. 'There was a hell of a scramble to get him on the plane.'
'He went without saying good-bye to me?' Gilda said, looking searchingly at O'Brien.
'There wasn't time, but he scribbled a note.' O'Brien took an envelope from his billfold and gave it to her. 'He tried to call you, but every telephone booth was engaged. You know what it's like at an airport. So he wrote instead.'
She ripped open the envelope, read the note and then laid it down.
'Was it necessary for him to leave so quickly, Sean?'
'I think so,' he returned quietly. 'He wanted to go, and I didn't want him snarled up with the police.'
'I wish I had seen him off.'
'There just wasn't time. Get him out of your mind, Gilda. I know you're fond of him, but you've got to forget him now.
He won't be back for some time. Anyway, until after we're married; and talking about marriage, let's go ahead and make it quick now. How about the end of the week?'
Her face brightened.
'Yes. Whenever you like, Sean.'
He got up.
'Fine. Leave it to me. I'll get things fixed. Now go to bed and don't worry any more. It's getting late. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what I've fixed.'
