Sweeting listened to all this with growing interest. So Johnny had skipped to France. And she was planning to get married. Who was this guy she called Sean? Could it be Sean O'Brien? He wished he had the nerve to open the door a crack so he could get a glimpse of Gilda's visitor, but, remembering Gilda's gun, he decided against the risk.
He heard them talking on the landing; then, a few moments later, the front door shut.
He heard Gilda cross the sitting-room, turn off the lights and go into her
bedroom. The door shut.
Sweeting relaxed.
He had better go. At least he now had twenty dollars. That would meet his rent, but it wouldn't leave him anything in hand. He suddenly realized how hungry he was. He hadn't had anything to eat all day, and Leo must be starving too.
No harm in seeing what she had in her ice-box, he thought. A chicken or a ham would be acceptable.
Softly he tiptoed across the passage to the kitchen door, gently turned the handle, found the light switch and turned it on.
Facing him was a massive refrigerator, and his eyes lit up with eager anticipation. He paused to listen, but heard nothing. Sneaking across the polished floor he took hold of the refrigerator handle, gently lifted it and pulled.
The door of the refrigerator swung back.
A thin, frightened scream came out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he jumped back, shuddering.
Sitting, hunched up on the floor of the refrigerator, his face a bloody mask, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl of death, was Maurice Yarde.
CHAPTER IX
I
The motorboat swept inshore, its prow clear of the water. A long white wash from the churning screws marked its passage from the Willow Point. Tux sat in the bucket seat while Solly had charge of the wheel. For the first time in years, Tux was scared. He had fallen down on an order, and he knew what was ahead of him. O'Brien would pass the word around. Tux would be shut out, and to be shut out of O'Brien's world meant going back to small-time heists, not having police protection and scratching for a living. It wouldn't be long before he would get himself involved in a gun battle with a cop. It wouldn't be long, either, before he was on a slab in the police mortuary.
Tux ran his tongue along his dry lips at the thought. There was still a chance to rectify his mistake. If he could find Johnny, wipe him out and get rid of his body there would be no need for O'Brien ever to know Johnny had escaped from the cruiser.
But where was he to find Johnny? Would Johnny go to his sister's apartment or would he leave town? The chances were he'd leave town. Johnny was no fool. He would know Tux wouldn't rest until he found him.
The lighted waterfront was now well in view, and Tux suddenly leaned forward. 'What's going on over there?' he shouted above the noise of the engine.
Sooly turned his great pear-shaped head and stared.
'Looks like cops,' he said. 'That's a cop car.'
'Better take her to Sam's jetty,' Tux said. 'We don't want to get snarled up with those boys.'
Solly altered course, and in a few minutes he brought the motorboat alongside the jetty.
Both men scrambled up the ladder, and then hurried down the jetty to
the waterfront.
Police whistles were blowing and they could hear the sound of distant sirens.
'This ain't healthy,' Tux said. 'Come on; let's get the hell out of here.'
'Think they're after Johnny?' Solly asked, looking along the waterfront at the distant police car and the four cops who were standing in a group, their backs turned to them.
'How do I know?' Tux snarled. 'Goddamn it! He could get away in this shindig.' He had a sudden idea. 'Maybe Seth knows what it's all about.'
He set off down an alley, followed by Solly.
Tux knew all the short cuts and the back alleys of the waterfront as well as he knew the geography of his cruiser. But he was surprised to find a number of the alleys were already guarded by cops.
It was only the darkness and his knowledge that prevented them from being seen. By climbing over walls and passing through back yards, they managed to reach the rear entrance of the Washington Hotel.
'Stick around,' Tux said to Solly and, leaving him to wait in the basement passage, he went on up the stairs to the main hall.
Cutler had returned to the reception desk. He was smoking and staring out of the window that overlooked the waterfront.
He started when he saw Tux.
'What the hell's going on?' Tux demanded.
'You'd better get out of here,' Cutler said. 'Right now, it's hotter than a red-hot stove.'
