phonograph that was the source of the music and I saw Clyde bending over Velda on the couch. He was a dark shadow in a satin robe. They both were shadows there in the corner, shadows that made hoarse noises, one demanding and the other protesting. I saw the white of Velda?s leg, the white of her hand she had thrown over her face, and heard her whimper. Clyde threw out his arm to toss off the robe and I said, ?Stand up, you stinking bastard!?
Clyde?s face was a mask of rage that turned to fear in the single instant he saw me.
I wasn?t too late after all. I was about one minute early.
Velda screamed a harried ?Mike!? and squirmed upright on the couch. Clyde moved in slow motion, the hate . . . the unbounding hate oozing out of him. The skin of his face was drawn tight as a bowstring as he looked at her.
?Mike, you said. You know him then! It was a frame!? He spoke every word as though it was being squeezed out of him.
Velda came out of the chair and under my arm. I could feel her trembling as she sobbed against my chest. ?She knows me, Dinky. So do you know me. You know what?s going to happen now??
The red hole that had been his mouth clamped shut. I lifted Velda?s face and asked, ?Did he hurt you, kid??
She couldn?t speak. She shook her head and sobbed until it passed. When it was over she mumbled, ?Oh, Mike . . . it was awful.?
?And you didn?t learn a thing, did you??
?No.? She shuddered and fumbled with the buttons of her suit coat.
I saw her handbag on the table and pointed to it. ?Did you carry that thing with you, honey??
She knew I meant the gun and nodded. ?Get it,? I said.
Velda inched away from me, loath to leave the protection of my arm. She snatched the bag and ripped it open. When she had the gun in her hand I laughed at the expression on Clyde?s face.
?I?m going to let her kill you, Dinky. I?m going to let Velda put a slug in you for what you tried and for what you?ve done to other girls.?
He stuttered something I didn?t get and his lower lip hung away from his teeth. ?I know all about it, Dinky. I know why you did it and how you did it. I know everything about your pretty little blackmail setup. You and Anton using the girls to bring in the boys who counted. When the girls had them in bed Anton took the pictures and from then on you carried the ball. You know something, Dinky . . . you got a brain. You got a bigger brain than I?ve ever given you credit for.
?It just goes to show you how you can underrate people. Here I?ve been figuring you for a stooge and you?re the brain. It was clever as hell the way you killed Wheeler, all because he recognized one of the kids. Maybe he was going to have his little affair and keep quiet, but you showed up with the pictures and wanted the pay-off. He wired for five grand and handed it over, didn?t he? Then he got sore and got in touch with Jean Trotter again and told her who he was. So Jean ups and tells you, which put the end to Wheeler.?
Clyde looked at me speechlessly, his hands limp at his sides.
?That really started things. You had Wheeler planned for a kill and Wheeler grabbed my gun and tried to hand it to you. Only two things stump me. What was it you had planned for Wheeler before he reached for my rod and gave you the bright idea of suicide? And why kill Rainey? Was it because he wasn?t the faithful dog you thought he was? I have an idea on that . . . Rainey missed his first try at me on the street and you gave him the whip, hard enough so that Rainey got sore and made off with the dough he got for the photos from Emil Perry. You went out there to the arena to kill him and spotted me. You saw a nice way to drop it in my lap and promised the two witnesses a sixgun pay-off unless they saw it your way.
?Brother, did you get the breaks. Everything went your way. I bet you even have a dandy alibi rigged up for that night. Velda told me you were out until midnight . . . supposedly at a conference. It was enough time, wasn?t it??
Clyde was staring at the gun in my hand. I held it at him level, but he was looking right down the barrel. Velda?s was aimed right at his stomach.
?What did you do with Jean, Clyde? She was supposed to have eloped. Did you stash her away in a rooming house somewhere planning to get rid of her? Did she read the papers and find out about Rainey and break loose until you ran her down and tossed her over the bridge? Did Marion Lester put the heat on you for cash when she had you over the barrel until she had to be killed too??
?Mike . . .? he said.
?Shut up. I?m talking. I want to know a few things, Clyde. I want to know where those pictures are. Anton can?t tell me because Anton?s dead. You ought to see his head. His eyes were where his mouth was supposed to be. He didn?t have them so that puts it on you.?
Clyde threw his arms back and screamed. Every muscle of his face contorted into a tight knot and the robe fell off his shoulders to the floor. ?You aren?t hanging murder on me, you shamus! I?m not going to hang for any murder, not me!?
Velda grabbed my arm and I shrugged her off. ?You called it, Clyde. You won?t hang for any murder, and you know why? Because you?re going to die right here in this room. You?re going to die and when the cops come I?ll tell them what happened. I?ll tell them that you had this gun in your hand and I took it away from you and used it myself. Or I can let Velda do it and put this gun in your hand later. It came from overseas . . nobody will ever trace it to me. How do you like those apples, Clyde??
The voice behind me said, ?He don?t like ?em, mister. Drop that gun or I?ll give it to you and the broad both.?
No, it couldn?t happen to me again. Not again. Please, God, not this time. The hard round snout of a gun pressed against my spine. I dropped the Luger. Velda?s hit the floor next to it. Clyde let out a scream of pure joy and staggered across the room to fall on it. He didn?t talk. He lifted that rod by the butt and slashed it across my jaw. I tried to grab him and the barrel caught me on the temple with a jolt that dropped me to my knees. The voice with the gun took his turn and the back of my head felt like it flew to pieces.
I don?t know how long I lay there. Time didn?t mean a thing anymore. First I was too late, then I was early, now I was too late again. I heard Clyde through the fog ordering Velda into another room. I heard him say to the guy, ?Drag him in with her. It?s soundproof in there, nobody?ll hear us. I?ll fix him good for this when I get through with her. I want him to watch it. Put him in a chair and make him watch it.?
Then there were hands under my arms and my feet dragged across the floor. A door slammed and I felt the arms of a chair digging in the small of my back. Velda said, ?No ... oh, God ... NO!?
Clyde said, ?Take it off. All of it.? I got my eyes open. Clyde was standing there flexing his hands, his face a picture of lust unsatisfied. The other guy stood to one side of me watching Velda back away until she was against the wall. He still had the gun in his hand.
They all saw me move at the same time. My heart hammered me to my feet and I wanted to kill them both. Clyde rasped, ?Shoot him if he tries anything.? He said it knowing I was going to try it anyway, and the guy brought the gun up.
There was only a single second to see it happen. Clyde and the guy had their eyes off Velda just long enough. Her hand went inside her suit jacket and came out with a little hammerless automatic that barked a deadly bark and the guy with the gun grabbed his stomach and tried to swear.
The pain in my head wouldn?t let me stand. I tried to reach her and fell, seeing Clyde grab her arm and wrestle for the rod even as I was dragging myself toward the snubnosed revolver that was still clutched in the other guy?s hand.
Velda screamed, ?Mike . . . get him!
Velda had my head in her lap rocking me gently. ?Mike, you fool, are you all right? Mike, speak to me.?
?I?m okay, kid. I?ll be fine in a minute.? She touched the cuts on my face, healing them with a kiss. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I forced a grin and she held me tighter. ?Shrewdie, a regular shrewdie, aren?t you?? I fingered the straps of the miniature shoulder holster she was wearing under the ruins of her jacket. ?You?ll do as a partner. Who?d ever think a girl would be wearing a shoulder rig??
