The hallway was empty. Betty and the others were gone. Henry jumped to his feet, and then pulled Elkin off the floor. Rage had his blood boiling and he fought to keep from spinning Elkin around and slamming his fist in the man’s face for putting Betty in such danger. But the truth of it was, he’d put her in danger just as much as Elkin had. More so, she was here because she’d wanted to help him.
Elkin started spouting off again, about how other people knew he was here.
“No, they don’t,” Henry said. “You don’t want them knowing you screwed up. That you hadn’t killed me. That’s why you gave out this address, knowing I’d come. Thought you’d get a jump on me.” He gave Elkin a hard shove, forced him to move down the hallway, quickly, all the while glancing behind them, toward the basement stairway. Others could be coming, but he doubted it. “You’ve double-crossed too many people, Elkin.”
As they entered the main room of the depot, Lane appeared in one of the open archways.
“They’re gone.” Lane jogged toward them. “I told them to go to our apartment.”
“Good,” Henry said, breathing out a sigh of relief that Betty was safe. Tightening his hold on Elkin’s wrists, he said, “Take his belt off. My cuffs are in my car.”
It would use precious time, but he had to make sure Elkin was secure if someone else did enter the building. He’d need both hands to respond and keep ahold on Elkin.
Lane pulled off Elkin’s belt, and Henry used it to bind the mole’s wrists together behind his back, and then nearly dragged Elkin as he ran through the depot, to get where he and Lane had parked their cars as fast as possible.
He had the mole, and should be happy, but wasn’t. This wasn’t over. He didn’t have the evidence he’d hoped to have upon capturing the man. Elkin wasn’t going to give a full confession. He could bet on that.
Once at his car, he pulled his cuffs out from beneath his seat and clamped them on Elkin’s wrists.
“The central precinct?” Lane asked.
Henry nodded. “Yes.” That was the only police precinct he could trust. Like most other cities, the mob bosses had bought off police departments from beat cops to captains in charge, but the chief at the central precinct had let it be known no one was immune to arrest within his jurisdiction. Henry had already met with Chief Miller several times over the past few weeks and knew Elkin wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping detention under Miller’s care.
“I’ll follow you,” Lane said.
“No,” Henry answered while shoving Elkin into his car. “You go check on Bet—the women.” She’d been frightened; he’d heard her gasps and sobs as she’d stood behind him and he wished he could go comfort her, but duty called. Took precedence. He hated that, but had no choice.
“All right, I’ll meet you at the precinct afterward.”
Henry shook his head. He had a lot of work to do before he could make sure Betty was all right. He rubbed his forehead. She may never be all right after what she’d just been through. “No, I need you to see that Betty and her sister get back to their house. Once I get Elkin behind bars, I’ll round up some prohibition officers to scour this place, see what we can uncover.”
“Will do,” Lane said. “I’ll go to the precinct after that, give them my statement of what happened. How Elkin confessed to shanghaiing you and taking bribes.”
Henry nodded, but didn’t tell Lane that a statement of hearing Elkin’s minor confessions wasn’t worth more than the paper it was written on when it came to putting the man away for good. Federal crimes were never that easy. He needed a lot more evidence to hand over to the Justice Department in order for Elkin to get what he deserved.
He did have one hope left. Vincent Burrows.
Upon arrival at the precinct, he informed Chief Miller that prohibition agents and police officers needed to be dispatched to the old depot, and then requested the opportunity to interrogate Burrows.
He’d wanted to interview Burrows since the man’s arrest, but knew Burrows wouldn’t sing until he was backed into a corner.
“Tell the deputy to walk Burrows past Elkin’s jail cell,” Henry told the chief. “Make sure they see each other.”
With a barrel chest and bald head, the chief looked as no-nonsense as he was, yet, right now, he grinned. “We could clean up this city if we had a man like you around here on a regular basis.”
Henry knew it would take more than one man to clean up this city, but was glad to be ridding it of both Elkin and Burrows.
As soon as Burrows entered the room, Henry said, “You should have taken the bait, Vincent. Your future would be looking a whole lot brighter if you had.”
Wide-eyed and turning whiter by the second, Burrows smoothed his thick black mustache with a trembling hand.
“You thought I was dead?” Henry asked.
Burrows shot a nervous glance around the room, then back at him.
Shrugging, Henry said, “Elkin tried, but he failed.”
Burrows half sat, half dropped into the chair on the other side of the metal table. “Don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Yes, you do. You know Curtis Elkin. And you know that I was pretending to be Rex Gaynor.” Henry leaned across the table, looked the criminal straight in the eye. “That was for your benefit, you know. If you’d taken the bait, came to me, you’d be where Curtis Elkin is right now.”
Burrows shook his head even as sweat beaded across his forehead. “I said I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“I know you do,” Henry said. “You just walked past his jail cell. His
