that.
I was alone when I came to the surface. I sat up slowly and felt my jaw. It was swollen, but I was relieved it wasn’t broken.
I got to my feet and wandered over to the whisky bottle. The liquor did me a lot of good and a second shot did even better. I wasn’t mad at Bogle. From his point of view he had done the right thing. I’d have done the same if I’d been in his place.
I went into the bathroom and bathed my face. It looked a little better by the time I was through, and as I was leaving the bathroom I heard the wail of police sirens.
Sam was standing in the hall. His face was bruised and puffy, but he looked almost handsome beside me.
We looked at each other. Then he said a little shamefaced, “I’m sorry, Bud, but you had to stick your neck out. My beef ain’t with you, but I’m not letting that dame get away with this. I can’t help it if you’re soft on her, can I?”
I said, “No, but you’re making an awful mistake, Sam,” and went into the sitting room. Then the law walked in. There was Clancy of the Homicide Bureau, who I knew quite well, and a couple of patrolmen and a cameraman.
I heard a lot of talking going on outside in the hall, but I was past caring what happened. I had to wait to see how things shaped, then try to get Myra out of the jam.
I heard Clancy go upstairs to look at Doc. They were up there some time, then Clancy came down with Bogle, leaving the others to work on finger-prints and stuff like that in Doc’s room.
Clancy was a little fat guy, with eyebrows like overgrown shrubs and a blue-black jowl which made him look tough. He usually dwelt behind a dead cigar and modelled his inanners along motion picture lines. He wasn’t the brightest star of the Homicide Bureau, and I was sorry he was handling the case.
He came in and stood over me. “Well, well,” he said, surprised, “Ross Millan! What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Clancy,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “I haven’t seen you for a Long time.”
He stared in astonishment at my face, then he looked at Bogle, “Hey!” he said, “what’s this? You two been fighting?”
“Fighting?” I said. “What makes you think that?”
“Don’t stall,” he snapped, “look at your face.”
“Oh, that,” I shrugged. “That’s the way I wear my face these days. You pick up odd habits in Mexico. Some guys wear beards, some wear ear-rings, I wear bruises. It’s considered the thing in Mexico, isn’t it, Sam?”
Bogle didn’t say anything. He wasn’t quite at ease with the cops.
“Still smart, eh?” Clancy said. “What have you two been fighting about?”
“Oh, we like to keep tough,” I said, “it’s got nothing to do with this business. All kidding aside, Clancy, it’s just our form of self-expression.”
Clancy chewed his cigar and eyed me suspiciously. “Okay,” he said, “we’ll skip that for the moment. How are you tied up in this business?”
I told him in a few words how I had met Doc and Bogle in Mexico, but I didn’t say anything about Myra.
“What do you know about this girl?” He shot the question out as if he’d got a half a dozen cameras focussed on him and a bunch of admirers waiting for his autograph.
“Which girl?” I asked, carefully.
“You know,” he said darkly, “Myra Shumway.”
“I know that,” I said, “but which Myra Shumway? There are two of ’em.” That slowed him down.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, “what do you mean… two of ’em?”
“Look, Clancy,” I said, “there is a lot behind this business that you don’t know. It’s going to be difficult for you to understand, but if you’ll take the weight off your feet and lay off pulling the tough copper on me, I’ll try and explain.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Sam said savagely. “He’s nuts about the girl.”
Clancy hadn’t much use for Bogle, “Clam up!” he snapped.
“When I want a commentary from you I’ll let you know.” He turned to me, “Now, what is it?” he said.
I waved to a chair, “Sit down,” I said. “It’s going to take time and you’ll need all your energy to keep your brain working.”
“Leave my brain out of it. You be careful of yourself Millan. I know you think you’re smart, but if you’re trying to make a monkey out of me I’ll slam you in the cooler as a material witness. How would you like that?”
“Now don’t let’s have threats,” I said, but I was a little dismayed If I were in jail there would be no one to help Myra.
“Come on, Millan, don’t stall,” he said.
I wasn’t going to be rushed. The idea of telling a guy like Clancy the whole story of the Mexican business appalled me, but I had to do it.
So I sat and talked. Clancy sat listening with a drowsy expression in his eyes. He even put a match to his cigar, which let off a rank smell. He didn’t seem to like ft himself, because he let it out after a couple of drags. At that rate a cigar could last him a couple of weeks. This one smelt like he’d had it for years.
I nearly gave up half way, because I could see it was hopeless He didn’t know whether I was crazy or whether I was stringing him. So he just got hotter and hotter until I thought he was going to catch on fire.
“Well,” I said, “that’s the way it is. Someone’s kidnapped Myra and her other half killed Ansell.”
I didn’t mention Kruger. I knew Kruger had a lot of influence and I wanted to go for him on my own without police interference.
“What a story to take to a judge!” Clancy said, drawing a deep breath. “If I didn’t know you, Millan, and if we hadn’t knocked around in the past, I’d toss you into jail right now for wasting my time. Do you think anybody but a lunatic would believe a yarn like that?”
I waved my hand to Bogle, “Your witness, Clancy. He’ll bear me out. Sausage, talking dog, floating woman and the whole set-up.”
“Well,” Clancy snarled at Bogle, “what have you got to say? Did you see this guy turn into a sausage?”
Bogle looked at me and then at Clancy, “I told you he was trying to gum up the works,” he said. “I didn’t see any of that stuff, because it just didn’t happen.”
I half rose from my seat, “Why, you dirty heel!” I said furiously, “you know as well as I do it’s all true!”
“Like hell it is!” Clancy suddenly roared. “I’ve had enough of this, Millan. You either talk turkey or you’ll come down to headquarters.”
“But, I tell you…” I began.
“Okay,” Clancy said, getting to his feet, “come on, the pair of you. I’ve had all I can stand of this. We’ll see what the chief’s got to say.”
I looked at Bogle, “So that’s the way you’re going to play it.”
Bogle’s face twitched, “She’s going to pay for this,” he said viciously, “and you’re not talking her way out of it. If these flatfeet don’t pin it on her, then I’ll fix her, but she don’t knock Doc off without footin’ the bill.”
“Who are you calling a flatfoot?” Clancy demanded angrily.
Bogle sneered, “What makes you think you’re anything but a fallen arch?” he demanded. Before Clancy could come back on this the wagon rolled up to take Doc away.
We all stood silently watching, and when the stretcher came down. Sam began to cry again.
Chapter FOURTEEN
THE police captain was a guy named Summers. I knew him pretty well and he wasn’t a bad guy if he felt like it. Otherwise, he had a temper like a flea on a hot stove and was liable to fly off the handle without warning.
They kept me waiting nearly four hours before they took me to his office and the wait nearly drove me crazy.
“Hullo, Millan,” he said when Clancy pushed me into the room. “I’m sorry we had to keep you. Sit
