come up with the right answer. By that time they would either knock you off or we’d have to – it didn’t matter much.’
I resisted an impulse. ‘What about Johnny? He was killed because he was going to tell me that he never had a wife. Is that right?’
‘That’s right,’ she agreed.
‘Who killed him?’
‘Why, Mr Kaufman,’ Mollo said smoothly, ‘that’s a question easily answered – I did!’ I looked down the barrel of the automatic he was holding firmly in his right hand.
He glanced quickly at his watch. ‘Ivy, my dear,’ he said, ‘it’s nearly time for the next show.’
‘You can’t put it on now,’ she protested.
‘We must,’ he said, ‘it’s one of the specials’ He smiled at me. ‘For your information, it’s at special shows that we sell the stuff. Done up in popcorn packets, with some genuine popcorn on the tray for those who really want it.’
Ivy looked at him sourly. ‘That’s all right,’ she said, ‘but what are you going to do with big-eyes?’ She pointed her thumb at me.
Mollo looked at me coldly, ‘You may realise that I have a silencer on this gun,’ he said. ‘You will do exactly as I say. First, give me the gun I can see bulging in your pocket.’
I gave it to him. ‘Now get in there,’ he said, ‘quickly!’ He pointed to a wooden box mounted on a stool. I got into it awkwardly. My head protruded from one end and my feet from the other. He screwed down the lid tightly and I was helpless. ‘One yelp and it is the last!’ he said.
The curtains were pulled aside and there was a scattered burst of applause. I imagined that the applause was for Mollo, the dope-peddler, not Mollo, the magician.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Mollo said solemnly, ‘on special nights I do the most dangerous of all magicians’ wonders. On special nights I saw someone in half.’ He paused for a moment. ‘This is a most difficult and dangerous thing to do. My female assistant has been through the ordeal before and, frankly, her nerve has failed her. I cannot blame her. But tonight,’ he raised his voice slightly, ‘tonight, a very good friend of mine has volunteered to help me out!’ He slapped the box briskly and grinned down at me. ‘My good friend Rex has the highest confidence in my ability!’
He produced a gigantic saw and measured the line with his eye carefully, then made the first cut. There was absolute silence in the tent – except for the rasp of the saw as it started to cut through the cabinet. I began to feel very hot. The saw rasping through the wood set my whole nervous system on edge.
Mollo made the final cut and stepped back.
‘Perhaps, ladies and gentlemen,’ his eyebrows had an ironic twist, ‘perhaps you do not believe that Rex has been sawn in half?’ Then he grabbed the box close to where my head stuck out and swung it inward suddenly. The audience gasped.
I realised that only half the box had swung. The other half with the other half of me in it was still resting in its original position. The ceiling swam crazily and then everything went black.
I was left in the cabinet for what seemed an eternity of time, but was probably no longer than half an hour. Then Mollo’s face leaned over.
‘I’m going to let you out, Kaufman,’ he said, ‘but take it easy – your life isn’t worth a dime at the moment so don’t try crowding your luck!’
Mollo unscrewed the lid and I climbed out, stiff and bruised. He had me covered with a gun in his hand. He gestured towards the steps. ‘We are going out the front way, Kaufman, into my car. Don’t try any tricks!’
Ivy walked up the steps onto the stage and as she reached the top step, someone stepped through the curtains and thrust a gun at her. At the same time I heard a thud behind me. I turned around and saw Mollo slumping to the ground.
Ivy walked backwards a couple of paces and Cielli stepped through the curtains. ‘Why, Mr Kaufman,’ he smiled pleasantly, ‘this is a nice surprise!’
CHAPTER SIX
Katherine’s living room looked almost crowded. I sat on the sofa with Mollo one side of me and Ivy the other. Tyson stood with a gun in his hand, just behind us. To one side, Katherine sat. Gatt sat facing us, patting his face with a perfumed handkerchief.
Cielli stood easily in the centre of the room, smoking a cigarette and enjoying it. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘now we’re all together, who would like to tell the story?’
Mollo glared at him malevolently. ‘I should have thought of you before Brent!’ he snarled.
‘Perhaps you should,’ Cielli agreed, ‘but then, it’s a little late now, don’t you think?’ Mollo relapsed into silence.
‘It’s the usual story of a tribe of rats,’ I said to Cielli. ‘They all try and double-cross each other!’
‘I think we know the story,’ Cielli said. ‘The problem is, what to do about it? We’ve got to lay off for a while – that’s obvious. There wasn’t any stuff on board that launch, but if they have a close look at it, they might wonder why it has the engine it has – and so on. They might also wonder why no one has come forward to claim it. I took the precaution of registering it in Brent’s name, so we’re fairly safe there.’
I wondered who he was talking to – Tyson? Tyson was the only one on his side. ‘Yes,’ Cielli went on, ‘the problem is what to do about the organisation. I feel it is hopeless. We can’t hope to go on in the same way. So much has got to be done that will cause unpleasantness. The police will be very active for quite a while.’
‘Why don’t you come to the point, Cielli?’ Mollo snarled.
‘I’m going to,’ Cielli said crisply. ‘We had a good merchandising set-up and now what have we got? Our supply line is crippled until we can get another launch. Our distributing set-up has been cut down quite considerably.’ He looked at Katherine. ‘I find I can’t trust anyone – except perhaps you, Tyson, and you, Gatt.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I really think we shall have to disband the organisation for a time.’
‘What about these?’ Tyson asked. I presumed he was talking about the three of us on the sofa.
‘An artistic solution,’ Cielli smiled briefly. ‘Gatt is all right – he can go on running his nightclub as a legitimate business for a while.’ He turned to Gatt. ‘Though I’m afraid you will need a new star for your floorshow.’
Gatt shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is regrettable,’ he said, ‘but it can be overcome.’
Cielli turned back to us. ‘An artistic solution,’ he repeated. ‘I feel that the police, the public, even Mr Dusberg, should not go unsatisfied. So we’ll leave them a neat solution. In the tent of Mollo, the magician,’ he gave Mollo an ironical bow, ‘will be the remains of a tense drama that should fill the front pages of almost every newspaper in the States.’
‘A permanent tableau of death!’ He was obviously very pleased with himself. ‘There are the three dope- peddlers – Mollo, Ivy and Katherine – dead! There also, lying on the floor, is the brilliant private detective who discovered the dope-ring and shot it out with them. Unfortunately he was killed for his valour!’
Mollo looked at him icily. ‘If you’ve quite finished grandstanding,’ he said, ‘let’s get it over with!’
‘Why not?’ Cielli agreed. ‘Gatt, I think you had better come with us. Another gun will be useful.’
‘Of course,’ Gatt muttered. He mopped his face again. I had a feeling that the fat one wasn’t made of steel underneath. Underneath the fat was only more fat.
‘There is the question of cars,’ Cielli said. ‘I’ve still got Kaufman’s car downstairs. I think we might give him the pleasure of driving it for the last time. You travel with him, Gatt, and Tyson and Ivy can travel in the back. Mollo can drive his own car and I’ll take Katherine with me.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘All right,’ he said crisply, ‘let’s go!’
Gatt sat beside me, his gun thrust into my ribs. I saw Mollo’s car move away and I followed it slowly. I came to the turn-off into the carnival ground. I pressed the accelerator gently and the needle went up to the forty-five mark. For a moment they didn’t notice it because the pick-up was smooth. Then I swung around the corner into the lane between the tents and I put my foot flat down. The needle crept up to sixty and climbed rapidly.
