“What’re you driving at?” he demanded.
“A little matter of blackmail. I wouldn’t have pegged you as that kind of a rat, but we learn all the time.”
“Blackmail.”
He said it softly, but without any inflection of surprise.
“That’s the word,” I agreed. “Seems there’s an old buddy of yours, you served a little time together. You found him here in Monkton and put the bite on him. It’s called blackmail.”
McCann was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as though he could be getting ready to rush me any minute.
“It wasn’t like that,” he muttered. “I told you I wanted stake money for out. We have to blow this city, and that takes dough. I hadn’t got any, he had plenty.”
“That doesn’t change anything. In any case, it’s not my concern. What is my concern is what happened to Brookman and the girl Flower. And that’s where I imagine you have more to tell me.”
“I don’t know nothing about all that,” he said doggedly.
Shiralee decided that my tone wasn’t friendly enough to qualify for a free show. She gathered the transparent robe pointedly but uselessly around her, and went to sit in a corner.
“It doesn’t stack up Legs, not any more,” I told him. “This morning I was inclined to believe you, keep you away from the sharks. Now I don’t feel that friendly. You said you had to talk to Brookman when he owed Jake three grand. That was a month ago.”
“Well, what about it?”
“This about it. You knew Brookman, knew what he looked like. Why should Jake bother to send a different man the second time? No, it was you he sent. You said yourself you were out for a stake. I think you found one. I think Brookman offered you the money. You took it, then blew his head in and dropped him over the Point.”
“Wrong,” he said menacingly, “And I’m getting so I don’t like you any more.”
“I’m bleeding. It accounts for Flower’s murder too. She’d seen you at the Somerset place, when you pressured him for money. Somerset may have told her you worked for Martello, I don’t know, it’ll all come out now. She wanted to tell me something, she arranged to meet me. When I got there, somebody beat me over the head and pushed her out of the window.”
He sneered.
“What a yarn. There isn’t a copper in town would swallow it. If I had pushed her out of that window, why didn’t I make a nice neat job and push you out for an encore?”
I lit an Old Favorite to show how calm my nerves were.
“That worried me for a while. But I came up with an answer for that, too. I’m a fair sized man, take a lot of heaving and pulling to get me far enough from the floor to shove me out.”
It was McCann’s turn to sneer.
“I could do it easy. You want a demonstration?”
“No,” I demurred. “I know you could. But Lady Godiva over there, she couldn’t.”
There was quick alarm on his face.
“What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying it wasn’t you killed Flower. It was Shiralee, Pook to her friends. I was too heavy for her, so I had to stay on the floor.”
“Now you wait a minute buster,” ejaculated the girl, with fear in her voice. “You can’t pin this on me.”
“Sure I can,” I assured her. “But I don’t have to try. Ten minutes after I leave here, you’ll find both the cops and the Martello crowd on their way. Whichever gets here first, is a matter of chance. It makes no difference to me.”
While talking to her I hadn’t taken my eyes off McCann. He was the one I had to watch. Now he said:
“You took an awful chance coming here with this kind of stuff.”
“No,” I pooh-poohed. “I don’t think so. You’re not able to do a thing about it. You’re not carrying a gun, I can see that. I have one right here.”
I patted at my arm and smiled.
“So have I,” gritted Shiralee.
I turned quickly to see the small silver-plated automatic in her hand, the half-opened drawer beside her. I thought quickly about trying for the .38, but I wouldn’t have had a chance. McCann came close and said:
“Hold the hands way up Preston. Honey, if he blinks, let him have it.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be a pleasure.”
McCann looked at me with disgust.
“I oughta knock you off right now for what you’re doing to me.”
“No,” said the girl sharply. “We’re in enough trouble as it is. We’ll put him where he can’t do any harm till we’re clear of town.”
“You heard what the lady said,” McCann told me reluctantly. “I hope you have lousy dreams.”
The door bell clattered. Shiralee jumped up in alarm.
“Answer it,” hissed McCann. “And you Preston, shut up or you’re dead.”
He took the gun from the girl and nodded to the door. The bell rang again. She went and stood beside it.
“Who—who is it?”
“Miss O’Connor?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Hamilton, Miss O’Connor. Like to talk to you for a minute.”
“I was just taking a shower,” she called. “Could you come back later?”
“It’s pretty important. I’ll wait while you get dressed.”
She came back to where we were standing. All I had to do was shout and Hamilton would burst down the door. But I had no relish for two or three nickel plated slugs in my belly.
“Fire escape,” hissed McCann. “Get busy.”
Then he transferred the gun to his left hand.
“This is a pity,” he murmured, “I was going to have a little fun with you.”
He sank a vicious right into my middle. I gave a great whoosh of agony and as I doubled up he grabbed the back of my head with both hands and smashed my face down on to his upraised knee. A warm red blanket settled over me and that was all I knew.
There was something cold and wet on my face. I scrabbled at it with limp fingers. Somebody laughed. Painfully I forced open an eye
