shot FBI men were under heavy sedation during the night, but one’s clear now. He says that the first person shot last night was neither him nor his partner but Peggy. She got it through the left shoulder.’
‘No!’
‘I’m afraid so, boy. I know this agent well. He doesn’t make mistakes.’
‘But — but — if she’s wounded, I mean medical attention, hospital, she must have —’
‘Sorry, Jeff. That’s all we know. The kidnappers took her away, remember.’
Jeff made to speak, turned and ran from the office. He went to Delmino’s, the station officers’ favourite hang-out. Yes, Sergeants Ryder and Parker had been there. No, the barman didn’t know where they had gone.
Jeff drove the short distance to the station house. Parker was there along with Sergeant Dickson. Jeff said: ‘Seen my father?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘You know where he is?’
‘Yes. Again why?’
‘Just
‘I’m not rightly sure I should.’ He looked at Jeff, saw the urgency and intensity and was not to know it was because of the news Jeff had just heard. He said reluctantly: ‘He’s at Chief Donahure’s. But I’m not sure —’ He stopped. Jeff had already gone. Parker looked at Dickson and shrugged.
Ryder said, almost conversationally: ‘Heard that my daughter has been kidnapped?’
‘No. I swear to God —’
‘All right. Any idea how anyone might have got hold of her address in San Diego?’
Donahure shook his head — but his eyes had flickered, just once. Ryder broke open the revolver: the hammer was lined up against an empty cylinder, one of two. He closed the gun, shoved the stubby finger of Donahure’s right hand through the trigger guard, held the Colt by barrel and butt and said: ‘On the count of three I twist both hands. One —’
‘I did, I did.’
‘How did you get it?’
‘Week or two ago. You were out for lunch and —’
‘And I’d left my address book in my drawer so you kind of naturally wrote down a few names and addresses. I really should break your finger for this. But you can’t sign a statement if I break your writing forefinger, can you?’
‘A statement?’
‘A statement?’
‘I’m not a law officer any more. It’s a citizen’s arrest. Just as legal. I arrest you, Donahure, for larceny, corruption, bribery, the acceptance of bribes — and for murder in the first degree.’
Donahure said nothing. His face, greyer than ever, had slumped between his sagging shoulders. Ryder sniffed the muzzle. ‘Fired recently.’ He broke open the gun. ‘Two bullets gone. We only carry five in a cylinder, so one’s been fired recently.’ He eased out one cartridge and scraped the tip with a nail. ‘And soft-nosed, just like the one that took off Sheriff Hartman’s head. A perfect match for this barrel, I’ll be bound.’ He knew that a match-up was impossible, but Donahure either didn’t know or was too far gone to think. ‘And you left your fingerprints on the door handle, which was a very careless thing to do.’
Donahure said dully: ‘It was the man on the phone —’
‘Save it for the judge.’
‘Freeze,’ a high-pitched voice behind Ryder said. Ryder had survived to his present age by knowing exactly the right thing to do at the right time and at the moment the right thing appeared to be to do what he was told. He froze.
‘Drop that gun.’
Ryder obediently dropped the gun, a decision which was made all the easier for him by the fact that he was holding the gun by the barrel anyway and the cylinder was hinged out.
‘Now turn round nice and slow.’ Brought up on a strict diet of B movies, Ryder reflected, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. He turned round — nice and slow. The visitor had a black handkerchief tied below his eyes, wore a dark suit, dark shirt, white tie and, of all things, a black fedora. B movies, late 1930s.
‘Donahure ain’t going to meet no judge.’ He’d the dialogue right, too. ‘But you’re going to meet your maker. No time for prayers, mister.’
‘You drop that gun,’ said a voice from the doorway.
Obviously the masked man was considerably younger than Ryder, for he didn’t know the right thing to do. He whipped round and loosed off a snap shot at the figure in the doorway. In the circumstances it was a pretty good effort, ripping the cloth on the upper right sleeve of Jeff’s coat. Jeff’s reply was considerably more effective. The man in the mask folded in the middle like a collapsing hinge and crumpled to the floor. Ryder dropped to one knee beside him.
‘I tried for his gun-hand,’ Jeff said uncertainly. ‘Reckon I missed.’
‘You did. Didn’t miss his heart, though.’ Ryder plucked off the handkerchief mask. ‘Well. The shame of it all. Lennie the Linnet has gone riding off across the great divide.’
‘Lennie the Linnet?’ Jeff was visibly shaken.
‘Yes. Linnet. A song-bird. Well, wherever Lennie’s singing now you can take long odds that it won’t be to the accompaniment of a harp.’ Ryder glanced sideways, straightened, took the gun from Jeff’s lax hand and fired, all in seemingly slow motion. For the fifth time that night Donahure cried out in pain. The Colt he’d picked up from the floor spun across the room. Ryder said: ‘Do be quiet. You can still sign the statement. And to the charge of murder we’ll now add one of attempted murder.’
Jeff said: ‘One easy lesson, is that it?’
Ryder touched his shoulder. ‘Well, thanks, anyway.’
‘I didn’t mean to kill him.’
‘Shed no sad tears for Lennie. A heroin pusher. You followed me?’
‘Tried to. Sergeant Parker told me where you were. How did
‘Ah, now. If you want Detective Sergeant Ryder at his brilliant best, ask him after the event. I thought our line was tapped so I phoned Parker to meet me at Delmino’s. Never occurred to me they’d put a stake-out there.’
Jeff looked at Donahure. ‘So that’s why you didn’t want me along. He ran into a truck?’
‘Self-inflicted injuries. Now on, you’re welcome along anytime. Get a couple of towels from the bathroom. Don’t want him to bleed to death before his trial.’
Jeff hesitated: he had to tell his father and actively feared for Donahure’s life. ‘Some bad news, Dad. Peggy was shot last night.’
‘Shot?’ The lips compressed whitely. Ryder’s eyes switched to Donahure, the grip on Jeff’s gun tightened, but he was still under his iron control. He looked back at Jeff. ‘Bad?’
‘Don’t know. Bad enough, I should think. Left shoulder.’
Get the towels.’ Ryder lifted the phone, got through to Sergeant Parker. ‘Come out here, will you, Dave? Bring an ambulance, Doc Hinkley’ — Hinkley was the police surgeon — ‘and young Kramer to take a statement. Ask Major Dunne to come. And, Dave — Peggy was shot last night. Through the shoulder.’ He hung up.
Parker passed on the requests to Kramer then went up to see Mahler. Mahler viewed him as he was viewing life at the moment, with a harassed and jaundiced eye.
Parker said: I’m going out to Chief Donahure’s place. Some trouble out there.’
‘What trouble?’
‘Something that calls for an ambulance.’
‘Who said so?’
‘Ryder.’
‘Ryder!’ Mahler pushed back his chair and rose. ‘What the hell is Ryder doing out there?’
‘Didn’t say. I think he wanted a talk with him.’
‘I’ll have him behind bars for this. I’ll take charge of this personally.’
