Quite suddenly two men sprang into the alley Dillon could see them outlined against a street light. He started firing before his brain telegraphed to his hand. One of the men tossed up his hands and fell forward, but the other ducked out of sight.
Swearing softly, Dillon dived forward into the street. Excitement sent caution overboard. A gun exploded in his face, and he felt a little hiss of air as the bullet went past. He swept the gun round in an arc, firing wildly. The hideous roar echoed through the deserted street. The man who had fired at him was caught in the blast of lead. He crumpled up, lying with his head in the gutter.
Dillon saw a big closed car shoot over from the other side of the street As he jerked the gun up, Roxy screamed his name, waving his hand frantically. He nailed the car just where Dillon stood. Myra sprang out of the darkness and scrambled in. Dillon got in as Roxy released the clutch with a bang. The car shot down the road. Behind them, they heard a burst of gun-fire A bullet coming through the rear window smashed the windscreen.
Myra crouched on the floor, her head between her hands.
Dillon snapped, “Get into a side road… quick!”
Roxy shoved the pedal down to the boards, holding the car to the road. As a turning loomed up, he threw out the clutch, slammed on his brakes and swung the wheel over. The big car went into a skid, lurched up against the kerb and righted itself as Roxy released the brake.
“We’ve done it!” he said excitedly, as the car pounded down the road. “We’ve beaten ’em to it!”
“All right, all right,” Dillon said.
They had been driving furiously for a short time. Roxy glanced at him and eased the pressure on the pedal.
“Stop her,” Dillon snarled. “Where in hell do you think you’re rushin’ to?”
Roxy drew to the side of the road. We gotta get outta town,” he said nervously.
“Wait a minute… wait a minute.” Dillon shifted the Thompson off his knees on to the floorboards. “Now what
Roxy started to splutter, saw the hard gleam in Dillon’s eyes and stopped. Then he took hold of himself and said, “Vessi ratted. You shook his nerve rubbin’ Hurst. Somehow he didn’t see you bein’ boss long, so he runs to Ernie. McGowan didn’t like the set-up, but he came along and blew it to me. I went after Vessi an’ got him to talk. He said Ernie wasn’t wasting time. He tipped the cops that you had knocked Hurst off, and then sent his boys after you.”
Dillon said, “Vessi?” There was a lot of hate in his voice.
“I took care of Vessi.” Roxy sounded satisfied. “He won’t worry about his dinner any more.”
Myra said from the back, “Get goin’… that smashed wind-screen’ll make the bulls curious.”
“Shut your trap!” Dillon said, without looking round; then to Roxy, “You know where Ernie hangs out?”
“Sure…. You ain’t…?” Roxy twisted his body round in the car. His eyes suddenly widened with surprise.
“No yellow heel’s runnin’ me out of this burg,” Dillon said between his teeth. “I guess we’ll go an’ call on that guy.”
“Don’t… no… don’t be crazy.” Myra struggled up from the floor. Her hands resting on the back of the seat, she again said. “No… no….”
Dillon shifted round and hit her with his open hand across her face, sending her back into the darkness with a crash. “I’ll settle with you in a tittle while,” he said. “Get goin’,” to Roxy.
Roxy hesitated, then he started the engine. Swinging the car round, he headed back to the East side.
Dillon picked up the Thompson and examined it carefully, then he laid it down. “I guess this gun’s too big for the job,” he said thoughtfully.
Roxy said uneasily, “You’ll never get in with that.”
Dillon pulled his .45 from its holster and made sure that it was ready for use. He shoved it away again, and relaxed, watching the dark road. At the back, Myra sobbed quietly, now completely terrified.
Roxy said at last, “It’s down on the left. I’ll drive past it.”
They went slower. Dillon kept well back in the darkness of the car.
“See? By that light. That’s the joint.”
As the car went past, Dillon looked the house over. Bright lights gleamed in most of the windows. It was big.
Dillon said, “Seems like there’s goin’ to be plenty of company.”
Roxy didn’t say anything. He was scared.
“Okay Stop her over the way. We’ll go an’ look at the place.”
Roxy ran the car into the shadows and turned off the engine. Dillon opened the door and got on to the street, looking cautiously up and down. The street was empty. Roxy came and stood at his elbow.
“You stay here,” Dillon said to Myra. “Get in the drivin’-seat an’ wait till we come. You gotta be ready to get goin’ quick.”
Myra got out of the car and climbed into the driving-seat. She sat there, hunched up over the wheel, silent.
Dillon leant into the car, his face quite close to hers. “Watch yourself, sister,” he said softly. “You try to pull a quick one on me an’ you’re goin’ to have a bad time… get it?”
“It’ll be all right,” she said.
“Sure it’ll be all right,” Dillon said, and he jerked his head to Roxy. They walked slowly down the street, keeping on the opposite side of Ernie’s place.
“We’ll go round the back,” Dillon said, “Maybe he’s got a fire-escape or somethin’.”
Roxy nodded. He was feeling bad.
At the end of the street they crossed over and cut down an alley. They came down along the back of the buildings. Dillon counted each building carefully, then he stopped. “This is it,” he said.
They stood in the darkness and stared up Dimly they could see a fire-escape straggling up into the darkness.
Dillon moved forward cautiously. He could see the swing-up several feet above his head.
“If I give you a back, you can reach it,” he said to Roxy.
Roxy came forward reluctantly. “You’re goin’ to start somethin’ in this joint,” he said uneasily.
“Yeah!” Dillon leant against the wall. “You’re goddam right. I am.”
Roxy put his small shoe in Dillon’s hands and Dillon hoisted him up. The swing-up came within reach of Roxy’s fingers. He pulled gently, bringing the escape down slowly. It made no noise.
Dillon began to walk up the escape quietly. Roxy followed him, Dillon peered into each window as he passed. Three rooms were in darkness, but on the fourth landing of the escape there was a blaze of light. Dillon shifted his gun from its holster and moved forward more slowly. Roxy stayed between the landings, waiting.
Dillon edged his way closer to the window and glanced in. There were a number of people in the room. Dillon’s eyes fixed on a small apeish-looking man who was sitting in a big overstuffed chair in the centre of the room. He guessed that must be Ernie. He raised his hand and beckoned to Roxy.
Although the evening was close, the window was shut. Dillon could hear the buzz of talking faintly through the glass, and now and then the shrill high-pitched laugh of one of the women came to him with startling clearness.
Roxy crawled up on hands and knees. Dillon said, keeping his head close to Roxy’s, “That Ernie, the little mug sitting there?”
Roxy took a quick look into the room and nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “that’s him.”
Dillon watched the scene in the room thoughtfully. He fingered his gun, but he knew it would get him nowhere if he did start shooting. He had got to go down four flights of escape and by that time he’d be as dead as a pork chop.
One of the women, a tall, brittle blonde, was making a big play at Ernie. She was holding a long glass full of Scotch, and by the way she giggled and swayed, Dillon guessed she was getting plastered fast.
Ernie was watching her under his hooded eyes. His face was expressionless, but his little black eyes never left her.
Dillon thought, in a moment or so something would blow up there.
Someone put on a gramophone and faintly Dillon could hear the rhythmic pulse of the music. The blonde began to swing it. She stood in the middle of the room swaying her hips at Ernie. The others grouped round the
