No Orchids for Miss Blandish

Chapter twenty

Fenner arrived at the foot of the dirt road leading to Johnny’s shack soon after four o’clock in the afternoon. He had driven hard and fast, and he was sharply conscious of the possibility that some of the Grisson gang could be coming after him.

Before leaving town, he had paused long enough to telephone Paula, telling her where he was going.

“I think I’m on to something,” he said. “Call Brennan and tell him what’s cooking. Tell him to come to Johnny’s place fast.”

“Why don’t you wait for him?” Paula asked anxiously. “Why go out there alone?”

“Quit worrying,” Fenner said. “Tell Brennan,” and he hung up.

But now, as he drove his car off the road and behind a thicket, he began to think Paula’s suggestion had been a sensible one. This place was miles from anywhere: it was lonelier than a pauper’s grave.

He got out of the car, satisfied himself it couldn’t be seen from the road, then he started up the dirt road towards Johnny’s shack.

Halfway up the road, he paused to pull his gun and slide off the safety catch. He was pretty sure none of the Grisson gang had got ahead of him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

The evening sun was hot, and Fenner, who hated walking, cursed under his breath as he left the dirt road and started along the twisting path that led directly to the shack.

Two hundred yards ahead of him, he could see the dense wood through which he was walking open out onto a clearing. He slowed, picking his way silently, his eyes and ears alert.

A blue-winged jay suddenly flew out of a tree close by with a flapping of wings that startled Fenner. He looked up, his heart skipping a beat and then he grinned.

I’m as jittery as an old maid with a man under her bed, he told himself, and moved on cautiously to the edge of the clearing. He paused behind a tree and looked at the shabby wooden shack that stood in the center of the clearing.

It looked as if Johnny was at home. The door stood open and wood smoke curled lazily from the single chimney.

Keeping his gun hand down by his side and out of sight, Fenner walked silently over the rough grass until he reached the front door. He paused just outside the shack to listen.

He could hear Johnny humming to himself. He moved forward and paused in the open doorway.

Johnny, his back turned, was bending over the stove. He was cooking bacon in a frying pan. The smell of the bacon made Fenner’s nose twitch.

Fenner looked quickly around the large dirty room. The gun rack, holding two shotguns was by the door, well away from Johnny.

He stepped into the room, covering the old man with his gun.

“Hello, Johnny,” he said softly.

Johnny stiffened, then shuddered. He straightened and turned very slowly. His red, raddled face went slack with fright at the sight of Fenner. His dim, watery eyes opened wide at the sight of the gun in Fenner’s hand.

“Take it easy,” Fenner said. “Remember me, Johnny?”

The old man seemed to be having trouble with his breathing.

“What are you pointing that gun at me for?” he croaked.

Fenner lowered the gun.

“Remember me?” he repeated.

Johnny blinked at him, frowning.

“You’re the guy from the newspaper, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Fenner said. “Sit down, Johnny, I want to talk to you.”

Johnny lowered himself onto an upturned box. He seemed glad to get the weight off his legs. He shoved the frying pan off the direct heat of the stove and then with a shaking hand, he rubbed his bristly chin while he squinted up at Fenner.

“Now listen, Johnny,” Fenner said, “you could be in bad trouble. You could go to jail for a long stretch. You wouldn’t like that, would you? No booze; no nothing. You come clean with me and I’ll cover you. All I want from you is some information.”

“I don’t know nothing about nothing,” Johnny said. “I don’t want you around here. I just want to be left alone.”

“Riley and his mob were here about three months ago, weren’t they?” Fenner asked.

Johnny stiffened. He looked wildly around the room as if seeking a way of escape.

“I don’t know nothing about Riley.”

“Listen, you old fool,” Fenner said sharply, “lying won’t get you anywhere. They had the Blandish girl with them. Riley called his girlfriend from here. She’s talking. So far, she has only talked to me, but if she starts talking to the cops, you’ll be in trouble. They’ll work you over, Johnny, until you do open your mouth. Now come on. Riley was here, wasn’t he?”

Johnny hesitated, then with a cunning expression in his eyes, he nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right. He and Bailey and Old Sam and a girl. They didn’t stay long; not more than ten minutes. I wouldn’t have them here. They were too hot. I wasn’t taking a chance of getting in bad with the cops so I told them to keep moving. Riley called his girl, then they got back into their car and beat it. I don’t know where they went.”

But the way he told it, the way he looked convinced Fenner he was lying.

“Okay, Johnny,” he said mildly. “That puts you right in the clear. Just too bad you don’t know where they went Blandish is offering a reward for information. Wouldn’t you like to lay your hands on fifteen thousand bucks?”

Johnny blinked. It was now over three months since he had buried Riley, Bailey and Old Sam, and what a job that had been! Schultz had promised him a cut of the ransom money, but he hadn’t had it. He knew the ransom had been paid. He had taken the trouble to go into town and buy a newspaper. He had been double-crossed and he felt mean and bitter about it.

“Fifteen thousand bucks?” he repeated. “How do I know I would get it?”

“I’d see you got it, Johnny,” Fenner said.

Better not, Johnny told himself. It was too dangerous to monkey with the Grisson gang.

He shook his head reluctantly.

“I don’t know nothing,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Fenner said and moved over to the old man. “Do you want me to work you over, Johnny? Like this?” He hit Johnny a backhand slap across his face: not a hard blow, but hard enough to make the old man rock and nearly fall off the box. “Come on! Spill it!” Fenner went on, raising his voice. “Where’s Riley? You can either pick up fifteen thousand bucks or take a beating! What’s it to be?”

Johnny cringed away.

“I don’t know nothing,” he said desperately. “If you want to know anything ask the Grisson gang. They were right here. They fixed Riley...” He stopped, his raddled face turning grey.

“The Grisson gang?” Fenner stiffened to attention. “How did they fix Riley?”

But Johnny was staring past Fenner through the open door. His expression of terror chilled Fenner’s blood.

Fenner looked over his shoulder. He saw a shadow fall across the open doorway: the shadow of a man with a Thompson gun in his hands.

Then everything seemed to happen at once.

Fenner dived to the floor, well clear of Johnny. He rolled towards a big iron tank that stood across a corner of the room: a tank in which Johnny used to store his horse feed when he owned a horse. As he jerked himself behind the tank with one swift movement, there came the violent and continuous sound of the Thompson firing.

A stream of lead ripped into Johnny’s chest. The old man was thrown over backwards. He rolled over, twitching, then his body went limp. Seconds later, Fenner was nearly deafened as slugs hammered against the side of the tank. He crouched down, his heart thumping, his breath whistling through his clenched teeth.

For three or four seconds the slugs beat against the side of the iron tank, making a noise like a giant rivet-gun at work. Then the shooting stopped. The sudden silence was nearly as violent as the gun fire had been.

Fenner wiped his sweating face with the back of his hand. He guessed the Grisson gang had arrived. He was in a hell of a jam. He knew if he attempted to look around the side of the tank, he would have his head blown off. His one hope was that Brennan would be arriving soon, but would he arrive in time?

He flattened himself in the dust and put his ear to the wooden floor. He couldn’t hear anything. He doubted if any of the gang out there would have the nerve to come in and tackle him.

Then he heard the murmur of men’s voices. There was a pause, then a man shouted, “Come on out! We know you’re in there. Come out with your hands in the air!”

Fenner grinned crookedly. Not likely, he told himself, if you want me, come and get me. He waited.

The Thompson started up again. The noise made Fenner wince. He could hear some of the slugs dropping into the tank, having cut their way through the outer side of the tank. The gun stopped firing.

“Come on out, punk!” a voice bawled.

He lay motionless and silent.

He heard a man say, “Give it to me! Get down flat, both of you.”

Fenner stiffened. He knew what was coming. They were going to blast him out with a pineapple. He flattened down, protecting his head with his arms. The few seconds’ pause of silence seemed an eternity. Then he heard something drop on the floor. The bomb went off with a devastating bang. The blast lifted him and tossed him against the side of the tank.

He rolled over onto his back, choking and gasping. For a moment, everything became very clear and sharply etched. He could see the roof of the shack above him. It was sagging. As he watched, there came the sound of splintering wood, then the roof came crashing down on top of him.

Something hit him a violent blow on the side of his head. Bright lights flashed before his eyes, then he felt himself falling into a black, bottomless pit.

Chapter twenty-one

The darkness was suddenly pierced by a hot, hard light. Fenner heard himself groan as he raised his hand to shield his eyes.

“You’re okay,” a distant voice said. “Come on; come on. Don’t just lie there pitying yourself.”

Fenner made the effort. He opened his eyes and shook his head. He became aware of a man bending over him. The man’s face swam into focus. He recognized Brennan, and he slowly sat up.

“That’s the idea.” Brennan said. “You’re okay. What’s all the fuss about?”

Fenner nursed his head in his hands.

“Who’s making a fuss?” he demanded, and then grunted as his head began to ache violently. Hands took bold of him and hoisted him to his feet. “Don’t rush me!” he went on, leaning on the arm of a policeman. “Hell! My head feels as if it has been kicked by a horse.”

“No horse around here,” Brennan said cheerfully. “What happened?”

Fenner drew in a deep breath. He felt stronger now. Gently he ran his fingers through his hair and winced, but finding he hadn’t a hole in his head, he managed to grin wryly.

“Seen anyone around?” he asked.

“Just you and what’s left of Johnny,” Brennan said. “Who let off the pineapple?”

“Johnny dead?”

“Sure is — deader than a mackerel.”

Fenner turned and looked at the wrecked shack. He was feeling better every minute. With a slightly unsteady step, he moved out of the sun and sat down on an uprooted tree. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one while the three policemen and Brennan stood watching him impatiently.

Fenner wasn’t to be hurried. His mind was at work. He suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed to Brennan.

“Know something?” he said. “We’re going to bust the Blandish snatch! Here’s what you do! Get your men to look around. They’ll be looking for ground recently dug. Hurry it up!”

“What’s the idea?” Brennan demanded.

“Someone’s been buried here recently. Come on, get going! You want to bust this thing, don’t you?”

Brennan gave orders and the three policemen went off in different directions. Brennan came to sit by Fenner’s side.

“Who’s been buried?” he asked. “Let’s have it, dick, don’t act mysterious.”

“It’s my bet Riley, Bailey and Old Sam are buried around here,” Fenner said. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am.”

Brennan gaped at him.

“Who threw the pineapple?”

“Again I wouldn’t know, but I’m willing to bet it was one of the Grisson gang.”

“What would they want to do that to you for?”

“Leave it lie for a moment, Brennan,” Fenner said. “One step at a time.”

Brennan scowled at him, then he lit a cigarette and stared across the clearing at the ruined shack.

“You were lucky to get out of that alive,” he said. “I thought you were done for.”

“That makes two of us,” Fenner said.

A small bird suddenly swooped out of a tree and hopped from twig to twig on a nearby bush. Fenner watched it without interest. He was sweating and his mouth was dry. He was thinking of the thirty thousand dollars Blandish had promised him if he cracked the case.

A sudden shout made both men turn sharply.

“Sounds like someone’s found something,” Fenner said getting stiffly to his feet.

Both men walked towards the sound of shouting, forcing their way through the thick shrubs. It didn’t take them long to catch up with the other two policemen. They all entered a small clearing where the third policeman was pointing to the ground. The soil had obviously been disturbed although it had been covered with leaves and dead branches.

“This is where someone starts digging,” Fenner said and sat down in the shade.

Brennan gave orders. Two of the policemen hurried off. After a while they returned with a couple of spades they had found in Johnny’s outhouse. They peeled off their tunics and began to dig.

It was hot work and they were sweating before they found what they were looking for. Suddenly they stopped digging. One of the men knelt on the grass and reached into the shallow hole. Fenner got to his feet and walked over to watch. The policeman was scraping the soil away with his band. A faint smell of death came from the hole that made Fenner grimace. Suddenly he saw a mud-matted head coming to light. He stepped back.

“A dead man here, Captain,” the policeman said, looking up at Brennan.

“There’ll be three,” Fenner said. “Let’s get out of here, Brennan. Let’s get back to headquarters. This is urgent now.”

Brennan told the three policemen he would send out a truck and the Medical Officer. He and Fenner went down to Fenner’s car.

“The writing went up on the wall when Ma Grisson took over the Paradise Club,” Fenner said as he got into the car, waving Brennan to the driving seat. “We should have guessed how she financed that deal. She bought the club with the Blandish ransom money!”

Brennan paused as he was about to start the car.

“How the hell do you figure that one out?” he demanded.

“It’s not so hard to figure. Ma gave out that Schulberg gave her the money. Schulberg deals in hot money. He has probably cleaned up with the ransom. Johnny told me just before he was knocked off that Grisson and his gang were with Riley at Johnny’s place. Somehow Grisson must have found out that Riley had snatched the Blandish girl. He would know the only place Riley could take her would be to Johnny’s. He and his gang went there, knocked Riley and the other two off and took the girl. Blandish paid the ransom to Grisson, thinking he was Riley. It adds up. As soon as the ransom was paid, Ma Grisson opens the Paradise Club. What a sweet setup for them! Riley gets the blame and they are sitting pretty.”

“Where’s the proof?” Brennan asked. “Even if my boys do dig up Riley and the other two, it still doesn’t mean Grisson killed them. With Johnny dead, we haven’t any proof.”

Fenner nodded.

“That’s right. We’ll have to find proof. Let’s not go off half-cocked on this. Know what I think?”

“What do you think, superman?” Brennan asked sarcastically. He was pushing the car hard and they were roaring down the long main road.

“I think the Blandish girl is in the Paradise Club,” Fenner said. As Brennan turned to stare at him, Fenner yelled, “Look where you’re driving!”

Brennan slammed on his brakes and drew up by the side of the road.

“What are you getting at?”

“Remember Doyle said there was a room upstairs in the club kept locked. It’s my bet she’s in there!”

“We’ll soon find out,” Brennan said, starting the car again.

“Will we?” Fenner said thoughtfully. “The club is like a fort. It’ll take time to bust in. By the time we do get in the girl will either be dead or removed. Blandish wants her alive. If we’re going to bring her out alive, we’ll have to handle this with kid gloves. We’ve got to use our heads, Brennan.”

“Okay, so we use our heads,” Brennan said. “Where will that get us?”

“I don’t know,” Fenner said and lit a cigarette. “Let me think about it.”

For the next half hour Brennan continued to drive fast while Fenner coped with his aching head and his thoughts. As Brennan slowed down before entering a small farming town, Fenner said, “Well pick up Anna Borg. She knows that Grisson and Riley met at Johnny’s. She’s our only witness. We don’t want her knocked off. Besides being our only witness, she spends a lot of time in the club. Maybe she knows the Blandish girl is there. Maybe she doesn’t know the Grisson gang wiped out Riley. If we tell her, there’s a chance she might rat on them.”

Brennan pulled up outside a drug store.

“I’ll get things going,” he said.

Fenner watched him enter a phone booth. He looked at his watch. The time was a little after six p.m. They were still three hours’ driving distance from Kansas City.

He wondered if the Blandish girl really was in the club. If she was, she had been in the hands of the gang for over three months.

He grimaced.

What had happened to her during that time? He thought of Slim Grisson and he shook his head.

Brennan came out and got into the car.

“I’ve given orders for Anna Borg to be picked up. A couple of the boys will be watching the club.”

Fenner grunted.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Brennan started the car and drove fast out of the town and onto the highway.

Chapter twenty-two

A little after five o’clock, Rocco left his apartment and walked briskly to the main street. He had rested on his vast bed for an hour after Maisey had gone.

The mysterious girl Maisey had told him about intrigued him. He had decided he would investigate. He knew Slim, Flynn and Woppy wouldn’t be back until after nine. At this hour, it was unlikely Eddie Schultz would be in the club. That left only Ma Grisson and Doc Williams to worry about. He would have to be careful, but he felt pretty sure he could handle Doc if he had to. Ma scared him, but with any luck he wouldn’t run into her.

It was Saturday, and the warehouse next to the club was closed. Maisey had told him there was an entrance to the club through the warehouse. This entrance he intended to find.

The building next to the warehouse was a shabby hotel. He knew the owner, a fat Greek whose name was Nick Papolos. He told Nick with a wink that he wanted to admire the view from the hotel roof. Nick stared at him, shrugged his fat shoulders and told him to help himself.

“Just don’t get me into no trouble,” the Greek said.

Rocco patted his arm.

“You know me, Nick,” he said. “Strictly no trouble.”

He took the elevator to the top floor, opened a skylight and got onto the flat roof. From there it was easy to enter the warehouse. It took him twenty minutes of careful searching before he found the hidden door leading into the club. It took him only a few seconds to pick the lock and get the door open. He stepped into a dark passage, gun in hand, his heart thumping. At the end of the passage was another locked door. This he opened without difficulty, then he found himself looking into a large, well-furnished room with a big television set facing him. Across the room was a door, and for a long moment, he stood hesitating. He moved silently to the door and listened against the panel. Hearing nothing, he opened the door and peered into the ornate bedroom.

Miss Blandish was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring with blank eyes at the floor. She had on a white cotton dress that Slim had bought her. A cigarette burned between her slim white fingers.

Rocco stared at her. He had never seen a more beautiful girl. There was something familiar about her face. He felt almost sure he had seen this girl somewhere before.

He moved silently into the room.

Miss Blandish didn’t look up. She suddenly let the cigarette slip out of her fingers. It fell on the carpet and listlessly, she put her foot on it.

“Hello,” Rocco said softly. “What are you doing here?”

The heavy drugged eyes stared at him.

“Please go away,” she said.

Her pinpoint pupils told Rocco plenty.

“What’s your name, baby?” he asked.

“My name?” She frowned. “I don’t know. Please go away. He wouldn’t like you to be here.”

Where had he seen this girl before? Rocco asked himself. He looked at the red-gold hair. Then a surge of excitement ran through him. In his mind, he saw the dozens of pictures that had appeared in all the newspapers of this girl. This redhead, sitting so lifelessly on the bed, was John Blandish’s daughter! How the hell had Grisson got hold of her? He was so excited he could scarcely breathe. What a chance to level his score! Besides, there was a reward of fifteen thousand dollars for this girl!

“Your name’s Blandish, isn’t it?” he said, trying to control his shaking voice. “You were kidnapped nearly four months ago. Don’t you remember?”

She peered at him.

“Blandish?” she repeated. “That’s not my name.”

“Yes, it is,” Rocco said. “You’ll remember in a little while. Come on, baby, you and me are going for a walk.”

“I don’t know who you are. Please go away.”

Rocco put his hand on her arm, but she jerked back, her face tightening with fear.

“Don’t touch me!”

The shrill tone of her voice brought Rocco out in a sweat. Any moment Doc Williams or Ma Grisson could walk in. He was determined to get the girl to his place. He was tempted to knock her unconscious and carry her out, but he knew this would be impossible in broad daylight.

“Come on,” he said, his voice hardening. “Slim’s waiting for you. I’ve got to take you to him.”

This was an inspired idea. Miss Blandish immediately got to her feet. She allowed Rocco to lead her into the sitting room. He guided her through the door to the passage leading to the warehouse. She moved like a zombie.

It wasn’t until he had got her from the warehouse, down the alley that ran along the back of the club and the warehouse and into a cruising taxi that he began to relax. He told the driver who was staring curiously at Miss Blandish to take them to his apartment.

While this was going on, Ma Grisson was talking to Flynn on the telephone.

“It’s all fixed,” Flynn was saying. “We’re on our way back. No trouble at all.”

“Both of them?” Ma asked.

“Yeah.”

“Fine, fine. Hurry on back,” and Ma hung up. Her office door opened and Eddie Schultz came in. He had a livid bruise on the side of his jaw.

Ma glared at him.

“You and your goddamn women!” she snarled. “That chippy could have blown the lid right off this setup.”

Eddie sat down. He lit a cigarette and fingered his jaw.

“It wasn’t Anna’s fault. What’s happened?”

“It’s fixed, thanks to me. Flynn’s just been on. They wiped out both Johnny and that punk, Fenner.”

“It wasn’t Anna’s fault,” Eddie said. “All she told this guy...”

“I’m not having her in the club again,” Ma said. “I’m not having anyone here who talks.”

Eddie started to say something, then seeing the evil look in Ma’s eyes, he stopped. He remembered Anna had asked who the girl had been in Slim’s room. If he told Anna Ma wouldn’t have her in the club, Anna might turn nasty. She might even start talking about this girl. He knew if he told Ma this, she would get Flynn to knock Anna off.

Ma saw by his expression that he was uneasy and worried about something.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, staring at him.

“Look, Ma,” Eddie said, “so far we have got away with murder. We have this club: we have all the money in the world and we’re sitting pretty. But for how long? Okay, Anna talked and it looked like the setup was going to blow up in our faces. We had to knock off Johnny and this newspaper guy. So we’re now sitting pretty again, but for how long, Ma?”

Ma moved restlessly. She knew what Eddie was driving at. There came a tap on the door and Doc Williams came in! His face was flushed. Ma could see he had been drinking again.

“What happened?” he asked as he sat down near Ma.

“It’s all fixed,” Ma said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Until the next time,” Eddie said. “Why don’t you get smart, Ma? So long as the girl is here, we’re sitting on dynamite.”

“Are you telling me what to do?” Ma snarled, glaring at him.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Eddie said. “We would be in the clear with not a thing to worry about if it wasn’t for the Blandish girl. Why did we have to knock Johnny off? Because we were scared the cops would bust in here and find the girl. If she wasn’t here, we could have let the cops in and we could have laughed at them.”

Doc took out a handkerchief and wiped his sweating face.

“He’s right, Ma,” he said. “So long as she’s here we’re vulnerable.”

Ma got to her feet and began to pace up and down while Eddie and Doc watched her.

“Couldn’t she have a heart attack?” Eddie asked Doc. “Slim wouldn’t know you had anything to do with it.” He was putting his finger right on the problem. He knew both Ma and Doc were frightened of Slim.

Ma stopped prowling. She stared at Doc.

“I could give her something,” Doc said. He looked appealingly at Ma. “I don’t like doing it, Ma, but we just can’t keep her here any longer.”

Ma hesitated.

“Would Slim know?”

“He couldn’t prove anything,” Doc said. “She’d die in her sleep. He — he’d find her dead.”

Ma looked at the desk clock.

“He’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She stood hesitating, looking from Eddie to Doc and back to Eddie again.

“We’ve got to do it, Ma,” Eddie said.

Ma sat down. Her great hands turned into fists.

“Yes, we’ve got to do it.” She looked at Doc. “You fix it, Doc. When you’ve done it, get out and stay away until late. Let him find her. I’ll tell him I haven’t been near her. You keep away too, Eddie.”

Eddie drew in a long deep breath. It would be all right now, he was thinking. Once the Blandish girl was dead, Anna could come back to the club.

Doc stood, hesitating, sweating and scared.

“Get going,” Ma said to him. “The sooner it’s done now, the better. Don’t sit there like an old fool. This had to happen. Get going.”

Doc got slowly to his feet and went out of the room.

“And you get out,” Ma said to Eddie. “I don’t want you around until ten tonight. Go to a movie or something, but keep out of the way.”

“Okay, Ma,” Eddie said and started for the door, then he paused. “When she’s gone, it’ll be okay for Anna to work here, Ma?”

“Yes, it’ll be okay,” Ma said.

She moved slowly to her desk and sat down. Eddie watched her.

“I’ll have to find Slim another girl,” Ma said. “He’s got the taste for girls now.”

Eddie grimaced.

“That won’t be so easy,” he said.

Ma’s face crinkled into a cynical smile.

“I’ll find someone,” she said. “You can do anything if you have enough money.”

Eddie went out. He saw Doc Williams going up the stairs. He was glad he hadn’t to do the job. He felt sorry for the Blandish girl. She had had a tough break. As he walked across the courtyard to where he had parked his car, he was thinking she would be better off dead anyway.

He got into his car. There was a movie he wanted to see. He’d take a look at it, then he would pick Anna up for dinner.

As he drove away, two detectives, acting on Brennan’s instructions, took up positions where they could watch the entrance of the club without being seen.

Chapter twenty-three

Slim stood at the foot of the stairs looking up at Ma. Flynn and Woppy were behind and to the right of Slim. There was an expression on Ma’s face that Flynn had never seen before. He had never thought of Ma as being old. It came as a shock to him now as he looked at her to realize just how old she was.

Slim knew something bad had happened. He too had never seen this slack, defeated look on Ma’s raddled face. “What’s the matter?” he demanded. “What are you looking like that for?”

Ma didn’t say anything. One of her great hands rested on the banister rail, gripping it so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Say something!” Slim yelled at her. “What’s the matter?”

Ma thought: when I tell him, he’ll kill me. If only Eddie was here. Eddie is the only one who has the guts to stop him. Flynn won’t. Flynn will stand by and watch him kill me.

She found herself saying in a cold, flat voice, “The girl’s gone.”

Slim stiffened. He leaned forward to peer up at Ma, his thin lips lifting off his discolored teeth.

“You’re lying,” he said. “You’ve done something to her, haven’t you?”

“She’s gone,” Ma said. “I went into her room a couple of hours ago — she wasn’t there.”

Slim started up the stairs. Ma watched him come. When he reached her, she stared fixedly at him.

“You old cow,” Slim snarled. “You’re trying to frighten me, but I don’t scare easily. If you’ve touched her, I’ll kill you. I told you, didn’t I? Anyone who touches her has me to reckon with.”

“She’s gone,” Ma repeated.

Slim went past her, and down the passage. He pushed open the door and went into the sitting room. He looked around, then entered die bedroom.

Ma waited. Her sagging face glistened with sweat. She could hear Slim moving from room to room. Flynn said, “How did she get away, Ma?” Ma looked down at him. She saw the stark fear on his face. “I don’t know. I went in there. She had gone.”

“Where’s Doc?” Woppy asked, a quaver in his voice.

“He’s gone,” Ma said. “You had better go too. We’re washed up. This is the end of the road. The cops will have her by now.”

“If they had her,” Flynn said, “they would be here by now.” He started up the stairs as Slim came out into the passage. Slim had his knife in his hand. His yellow eyes were gleaming. Flynn paused, half way up the stairs, staring at Slim who moved silently and slowly towards Ma.

“You’ve killed her, haven’t you?” Slim said. “You always wanted to be rid of her. All right... so you killed her. Now, it’s my turn. I’m going to kill you.”

“I haven’t touched her,” Ma said, as motionless as a statue. “Someone took her away. She couldn’t have got away by herself. All right, Slim, go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want. Then you won’t have the girl and you won’t have me. Maybe you’ll be better off with neither of us.”

She was quick to see a sudden flicker of doubt in Slim’s gleaming eyes.

“Go ahead,” she went on. “See where it gets you. See what it’ll be like to be on your own. You’ve always wanted to be the big shot, haven’t you, Slim? But watch out. You won’t be able to trust anyone. You’ll have to keep under cover. You’ll have to find some place to hide.” She stared at him. “Where will you hide, Slim?”

The gleaming knife pointing at her wavered. Slim hesitated. He suddenly seemed lost as he looked from Ma to Flynn and back to Ma again.

“What are we going to do, Ma?” he asked. “We’ve got to find her.”

Ma drew in a deep breath. It had been a close thing. Even now she was afraid to move.

A sudden commotion at the Club entrance made them all look around. Flynn’s hand dropped on his gun butt.

Doc Williams came panting up the stairs. His face was sweating and purple. He saw Slim standing by Ma, knife in hand. He saw Ma, stiff as a statue: Woppy leaning against the wall, his face the color of dough: Flynn with a half-drawn gun in his hand.

Unsteadily, he walked to the foot of the stairs.

“Rocco’s got her!” he said. “Hear that, Ma? That goddamn little wop’s got her!”

Slim came down the stairs, shoving Flynn aside so violently Flynn nearly fell. Slim caught hold of Doc’s shirt front and shook him.

“Where is he?” he snarled. “How do you know he’s got her?”

Ma came lumbering down the stairs. She caught hold of Slim’s wrist and shoved him back.

“Leave him alone,” she said, then to Doc, “Let’s have it. Are you sure Rocco’s got her?”

Doc wiped his sweating face.

“Get me a drink,” he said and went over to sit on one of the sofas.

Ma signaled to Woppy, who ran into the bar.

“When I left you, Ma,” Doc said. “I was ready to pull out. I felt bad. I had to have a drink. I went to the bar at the corner...”

Woppy came over to him and thrust a tumbler half full of whiskey into his hand. Doc drank greedily, then he set the glass down.

“Get on with it!” Slim snarled.

“I got talking to the barman,” Doc said. “He asked me who the redhead was he had seen getting into a taxi with Rocco. I sat like a fool, drinking and talking for over an hour before it jelled. I came right back, Ma. It adds up, doesn’t it? Rocco and a redhead. It would be his way of leveling the score.”

Slim started towards the exit.

“Wait!” Ma said. “Don’t go off half-cocked...”

Slim didn’t even look around. He went down the steps, jerked open the door and moved out into the darkening courtyard.

“Go after him,” Ma said to Flynn, “and you too, Woppy.”

“To hell with him,” Flynn said. “I’m getting out of here. I’ve had enough. Give me some money, Ma. I’m quitting.”

“Oh, no you’re not,” Ma said. “You’ve got nowhere to quit to, you dope! You’re getting no money from me! Go after him and you too, Woppy!”

Flynn hesitated, then cursing under his breath, he jerked his head at Woppy and went down the steps to the door.

When Woppy had followed him out into the darkness, Ma put her hand on Doc’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d seen the last of you, Doc,” she said. “Now what are you going to do?”

Doc was a little drunk.

“What is there to do? I was going on the run, Ma, but I suddenly realized there was nowhere to run to. He’ll bring her back and it’ll start all over again.”

“He hasn’t got her yet,” Ma said. “You stick with me, Doc. I’ll find a way out of this mess. You stick with me.”

Chapter twenty-four

Miss Blandish lay across Rocco’s vast divan, staring with blank eyes up at the ceiling.

At any other time, Rocco would have considered himself well off to have had such a beauty in his room, but now his mind was crawling with alarm, and this long-legged redhead could have been a shop window dummy lying on his bed for all her physical attractions meant to him.

I’ve got to play this smart, he had told himself when he had persuaded her finally to enter his apartment. It’s no good calling the cops. I must contact Blandish. If I’m going to get my hands on that fifteen grand, he is my only hope. If I go to the cops, they’ll gyp me out of the money.

He had already checked the telephone book, but Blandish’s name wasn’t in it. He had called information, but the girl couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him Blandish’s number. When you are a millionaire you don’t have your name in the book. This was something Rocco hadn’t thought of. Now, after phoning most of the important clubs and restaurants asking for Blandish and getting nowhere, he was getting worried. If he didn’t find Blandish soon, he told himself, he could be in trouble. At the back of his mind, he kept thinking of Slim. He couldn’t imagine how Slim could possibly guess he had the Blandish girl, but if he did guess and if he did come here, then Rocco knew he wouldn’t have long to live.

He had tried to stimulate the girl’s memory by giving her the back copies of the newspapers that splashed the kidnapping across their pages. While he had been using the telephone, she had listlessly stared at the newspapers, but he could see she didn’t connect herself with the photographs nor with the account of the kidnapping.

He looked over at her. She continued to stare up at the ceiling, her drugged eyes sightless.

“Hey, baby,” Rocco said, aware now that they had been in this room for over two hours. “Will you try to concentrate. How can I contact your pa? I’ve called every lousy number I can think of and still I can’t find him.”

She moved her long legs as she continued to stare up at the ceiling. She didn’t seem to be aware he was in the room.

Exasperated, Rocco went over to her and put his hand on her arm.

“Hey! Wake up!”

The touch of his hand brought a reaction that scared him. She wrenched away and crouched against the wall, her eyes wide with terror.

“Okay, okay,” he said soothingly. “You don’t have to be scared of me. Will you listen? I’m trying to find your pa. What is his telephone number?”

Miss Blandish cringed away from him.

“Leave me alone.” she said. “Don’t touch me!”

Rocco tried to control his rising panic.

“If I don’t find your pa,” he said, “we’ll both be in trouble. Don’t you understand? We’ll have Slim here. How do I find your pa?”

She suddenly slid off the bed and ran to the door. She caught hold of the handle as Rocco reached her.

“Keep away!” she said shrilly. “Let me out of here!”

Sweating, Rocco threw her back onto the bed. He knelt over her, clamping his hand over her mouth.

“Shut up!” he said feverishly. “Do you want Slim to find you?”

She ceased to struggle and for the first time since she had been in the room, her eyes came alive. He took his hand off her mouth.

“Yes, I want Slim,” she said. “I want him to come here!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Rocco said, staring at her. “Don’t you want to go home? What’s the matter with you?”

She shook her head.

“I haven’t any home. I haven’t anyone. I just want Slim.”

Rocco stood up.

“I’m going to call the cops,” he said. “I’ve had enough of this.” He went over to the telephone, thinking, if they gyp me out of the reward, it’ll be too bad, but I’ve got to get them here before Slim gets here.

He began to dial police headquarters. Miss Blandish made a sudden dive off the bed. She caught hold of the telephone cable and yanked it from its terminals.

For a long moment, Rocco, the dead telephone receiver clutched in his hand, stood staring at her, feeling a chill crawling up his spine.

“You crazy fool!” he snarled. “What do you imagine you’re doing?”

She backed away from him.

“You must tell him you took me away,” she said, wringing her hands. “You must tell him I didn’t want to go with you.”

“Why, you... you...” Words failed Rocco. “What’s the matter with you? I’m trying to help you. Don’t you want to get away from Slim?”

She leaned against the wall and she began to cry weakly.

“I can’t get away from him. I’ll have him with me to the end of my days.”

“You’re talking crazy!” Rocco cried. “I’m going to fetch the cops.”

She slid along the wall to the door and set her back against it.

“No! You must wait here until he comes!” she said, her voice shrill. “You must tell him you took me away!”

Exasperated, Rocco caught hold of her arm and dragged her away from the door. He threw her onto the bed. As he turned to the door, she started up. Her hand closed around a heavy glass ashtray standing on the bedside table. She threw the ashtray at him. It caught him on the side of his head and he went down on his hands and knees, stunned.

Miss Blandish leaned against the wall, staring down at him.

Rocco tried to push himself upright, then he flopped down on his side, holding his head and groaning.

The sound of a door opening made Miss Blandish look across the room. The door leading to the bathroom was opening. She stood transfixed as the door swung fully open and Slim moved into the room.

Slim had come up the fire escape and through the bathroom window. His yellow, gleaming eyes moved from Miss Blandish to Rocco sprawling on the floor.

Only half conscious, Rocco sensed his danger. An instinctive feeling warned him he was but a heartbeat away from death. He rolled over on his back, his hands raised in a futile gesture of protection.

Slim came forward. He was grinning.

Miss Blandish saw the glittering knife in his hand and she turned away, closing her eyes.

She heard Rocco whimper.

The sounds that followed made her sink onto her knees, her hands over her ears.

Each dull blow of Slim’s knife into Rocco’s body made her stiffen and shudder.

Chapter twenty-five

For two interminable hours, Anna Borg had been locked in an isolated cell below stairs at Police headquarters. She was now both scared and exhausted. During the first hour she had yelled, screamed and cursed but no one had come near her. She felt buried alive and her nerves were rapidly going to pieces.

She kept asking herself why she had been picked up and bustled into this cell. When Eddie had rushed off to talk to Ma about Johnny, Anna had decided to quit. She had had enough of Eddie and the Paradise Club. As soon as she had heard his car drive away, she had thrown some clothes into a suitcase, taken Eddie’s store of money he kept in the apartment against an emergency and had taken a taxi to the railroad station.

She had told herself she would go to New York. She knew she could always get some kind of a job in a clip joint until she had time to look around. Anything now seemed better than hanging around with Eddie and getting nowhere with a chance of getting caught up in some trouble with Ma Grisson and her stupid son.

But as she paid off the taxi, two large men stepped up to her from nowhere and one of them flashed a badge at her.

“Anna Borg?”

“You can say ‘Miss’, can’t you?” Anna snapped, glaring at the two detectives. But for all her aggression, she had a sudden cold sinking feeling. Were these baboons going to arrest her?

“Police Chief wants to talk to you, baby,” one of the men said. “Won’t keep you long.”

A police car slid up. Anna was aware that passersby were pausing and staring.

“I’ve got a train to catch,” she said angrily. “You can tell that egghead to drop dead.”

A large hand rested on her arm.

“Come on, baby,” the detective said persuasively. “You don’t want trouble, do you? It won’t take long.”

“Take your paw off me!” Anna flared. She stood hesitating, then as the other detective moved forward, she got into the car. The two detectives got in after her and the car shot away. “I’ll make trouble for you two,” she threatened. “I’ll get my lawyer to fix you! You’ll be pounding a beat before you know where you are!”

The older of the two detectives laughed.

“Be your age, baby,” he said. “Relax.”

Anna swore at him, then relapsed into a sullen silence. Fear was nibbling at her. Had they connected her with Alvin Heinie’s death? It seemed a long time since she had discovered that Heinie had been staying at her hotel and that he had ratted on Riley. She had gone to his room in a fit of furious impulse and had shot him as he had opened the door. She had regretted the act ever since. But up to this moment she had felt sure the shooting couldn’t be traced to her; now she wasn’t so sure.

At police headquarters, she had demanded to speak to her lawyer, but the desk sergeant merely gave her a bored, blank stare and waved to a hard-faced wardress who caught hold of her and pushed her, struggling and screaming down a passage and into a dark cell. The door slammed and locked behind her.

The two-hour wait had quieted Anna. When eventually the lock snapped back and the door swung open, she jumped anxiously to her feet.

The wardress beckoned to her.

“Come on,” she said. “The Chief’s ready to talk to you now.”

“Someone’s going to pay for this!” Anna said but without much conviction.

She was led up the stairs, through the charge room and into Brennan’s office. She came to an abrupt standstill in the doorway when she saw Fenner sitting on the window sill, Brennan behind his desk and two detectives leaning up against the wall. She stared at Fenner, her eyes round.

The wardress gave her a push and she staggered forward a few paces, then she heard the door close behind her.

“You’re going to be sorry for this!” Anna yelled at Brennan. “I want my lawyer!”

“Sit down, Anna,” Brennan said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”

“Where do you get this Anna stuff from?” Anna snapped. “I’m Miss Borg to you.”

“Sit down and shut up!” one of the detectives barked.

“Ape!” Anna shrilled, but she sat down, looking uneasily from Brennan to Fenner.

“We have reason to believe that Miss Blandish, the girl kidnapped four months ago, is being held at the Paradise Club,” Brennan said.

Anna stared at him. Her face was bewildered.

“Have you gone nuts?” she demanded. “Everyone knows Frankie Riley snatched the girl. What are you getting at?”

“That’s what we thought, but we know different now,” Brennan went on. “The Grisson gang took the girl from Riley. We’re pretty certain she is in the club right now.”

“Are you trying to frame Eddie?” Anna said, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t expect me to help you, copper. I don’t know nothing about any snatch.”

Fenner said, “Time marches on, Brennan. Let her see the exhibits. If they don’t soften her, nothing will.”

Brennan nodded. He signaled to one of the detectives who moved over to Anna.

“Come on, baby. I’ve got something to show you.”

Anna looked uneasily at Brennan.

“I want my lawyer. You can’t keep me here...”

“Come on; don’t talk so much,” the detective said.

Anna got to her feet. She followed the detective out of the room. Fenner and Brennan exchanged glances.

“I don’t think she knows anything,” Brennan said. “We could be wasting our time.”

“We can but try,” Fenner said and lit a cigarette.

They waited.

After ten minutes or so, the door pushed open and the detective brought Anna back. He was supporting her. Her face was white and her eyes were pools of horror. She dropped limply into the chair and she hid her face in her hands.

“Can you identify him as Riley?” Brennan asked.

She shuddered.

“You dirty sonsofbitches,” she said. “How could you do this to me?”

Fenner went over to her.

“He isn’t a pretty sight, is he? The Grisson gang did that to him. We found the three of them: Riley, Bailey and Old Sam. It’s a sweet setup for Ma Grisson, and what a laugh Eddie must have had when you believed Riley had walked out on you. Riley got the blame for everything and all the time he was dead and buried. Did you get any of the ransom money? I bet you didn’t. All you got was a cheap strip job at the club and a tumble from Eddie. Well, here’s your chance to even the score. How about it, baby?”

“Get away from me!” Anna screamed at him. “I don’t know nothing about nothing!”

“Get smart,” Fenner said. “You’re in the clear now; keep in the clear. You cooperate with us, and we’ll cooperate with you. Now listen, we want to know if the girl’s in the club. We think she is, but we’ve got to know for certain. She’s in the locked room upstairs, isn’t she?”

White-faced and shaking, Anna glared at him.

“Find out for yourself!”

“Put yourself in that girl’s place!” Brennan said, leaning across his desk. “How would you like to be shut up with a moron like Grisson? Come on, Anna, if you know anything, spill it. There’s a fifteen grand reward, and I’ll see you get it.”

“Oh, drop dead!” Anna said viciously. “I’ve never squealed to a copper and I’m not starting now!”

Fenner said, “Can I talk to this baby alone for five minutes?”

Brennan hesitated, then he got to his feet. Time was pressing. He went out of the room, jerking his head at the two detectives who followed him out.

Anna faced Fenner.

“You’re wasting your breath,” she said. “I’ve got nothing to tell you.”

“I think you have,” Fenner said. “Anyway, I’ve something to tell you. I’ve been checking up on you. Brennan doesn’t know you had a room at the Palace Hotel on the night Alvin Heinie was shot to death. He doesn’t know you own a .25 automatic, but he does know Heinie was shot with a .25. It wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together and slap a murder charge on you if I told him what I’m telling you. You had the motive, the opportunity and the gun. You cooperate with me and I’ll keep my mouth shut, otherwise I’m going to tip Brennan off that you were at the hotel that night and then he’ll really work you over.”

Anna’s eyes shifted.

“How about it?” Fenner asked. “We’re wasting time. Is the Blandish girl in the club?”

Anna hesitated, then she said, “I don’t know, but there is a girl in that room. I’ve never seen her. I don’t know if she’s the girl or not.”

Fenner went to the door and called Brennan in.

“She’s had a change of mind,” he said. “She knows there is a girl in the locked room, but she hasn’t seen her.”

“How do you know there’s a girl there if you haven’t seen her?” Brennan demanded.

“I’ve heard the boys talk,” Anna said sullenly. “I’ve seen Ma go up there with stuff from the laundry. I’ve seen Slim go in there with packages from women’s stores.”

“Now start using your brains,” Brennan said. “How do we bust in there and get to the girl before she gets hurt?”

Anna shrugged.

“Search me. I’m not running your stinking police force. That’s your job.”

“When the club’s open, what are the chances of rushing the place?” Fenner asked.

“Not a chance. They’ve really got that end organized. Every member is known. Until they identify themselves, the door’s not opened.”

“Is there any other way in?”

“I don’t know of one.”

Brennan and Fenner exchanged glances. Fenner shrugged.

“Okay,” Brennan said. He went to the door and called the wardress. “Take her to Doyle’s office and sit with her.”

“Hey!” Anna exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “You’re not keeping me here! Now listen...”

“You’re staying here until we get die girl,” Brennan said. “Take her away.”

Protesting loudly, Anna was pushed out of the room. When her yells had died away down the passage, Brennan said. “She’s told us exactly nothing.”

“Except there is a girl in the locked room,” Fenner said, “and it can’t be anyone else but the Blandish girl, but how do we get her out?”

“If we’re going to bust in there,” Brennan said, “we’ve got to make sure none of the club members are there. The first move is to cordon off the joint and stop anyone going in. The club opens around ten o’clock,” He looked at his watch. “It’s not yet eight. If we could pick up one of the Grisson gang, we might be able to persuade him to talk. There may be another way into the club besides through that steel door.” He picked up the telephone receiver. “That you, Doyle? I want one of the Grisson gang, and I want him fast. No, I don’t care who it is. Get them all if you can, but I want at least one in a hurry. Okay.” He hung up. “If any of those rats are floating around town, we’ll have them. There’s not much else we can do now except wait.”

“We should tell Blandish what’s cooking,” Fenner said. “After all, she’s his daughter.”

Brennan hesitated, then nodded. He waved to the telephone.

“Okay: go ahead and tell him,” he said.

Chapter twenty-six

Eddie Schultz discovered he wasn’t as tough as he imagined he was. Although the movie he was watching had plenty of action, it didn’t hold his interest.

He kept thinking of Miss Blandish. She would be dead by now, he told himself. What would Ma do with the girl’s body? He guessed that would be a lousy job for him and Flynn to handle. How would Slim react? Eddie thought he wouldn’t be in Ma’s shoes for any money.

Suddenly he couldn’t stand the darkness of the movie house any longer. He got up and pushing his way roughly past the three people between him and the aisle, he walked to the exit. The time was three minutes past eight. He needed a drink. Crossing the street, he went into a bar, ordered a double Scotch, then went over to a telephone booth and called his apartment. He would tell Anna to join him at the bar, and they would have an early dinner together. He didn’t feel like sharing his own company any longer.

He was irritated when he got no answer. It was unusual for Anna to leave the apartment before nine. Where had she got to? He went back to the bar, tossed off the drink, paid for it and left the bar. He decided he’d drive over to his apartment. Maybe Anna had slipped out for a moment and would be back.

He reached his apartment, parked his car and entered the apartment lobby.

The janitor, a heavily built Negro, was sitting in his office, reading the racing sheet.

“Hi, Curly,” Eddie said, pausing, “did you see Miss Borg go out?”

The janitor lowered his newspaper.

“Sure did, Mr. Schultz. She went out ten minutes after you did.” He squinted at Eddie curiously. “She had a suitcase with her.”

Eddie frowned.

“Okay, Curly.” He crossed to the elevator and rode up to his apartment, unlocked the door and entered. He went into the bedroom. The closet doors stood wide open. He saw at a glance most of Anna’s clothes were missing.

He swore under his breath. So she had skipped! Should he tell Ma? He hesitated. Ma would have to know. He crossed over to the telephone as the front doorbell rang.

Who could this be? he asked himself uneasily. His hand slid inside his coat and his fingers closed over the butt of his gun. He went to the door.

“Who is it?” he called.

“A message from Miss Borg, Mr. Schultz,” the janitor called.

Hurriedly, Eddie unlocked the door which smashed open as he turned the handle, sending him reeling back into the room. Before he could recover his balance, two big men had piled into the room and were covering him with guns.

“Take it easy, Schultz,” one of them said. “Just keep your hands still.”

The janitor, his eyes rolling, peered into the room, then he turned and hurried away.

Eddie faced the detectives.

“You’ve got nothing on me,” he said, a cold uneasy feeling in his stomach. “What’s the big idea busting in like this?”

One of the big men moved around him and took away his gun.

“Got a permit for this, Schultz?” he asked.

Eddie didn’t say anything.

“Come on. Don’t let’s have any trouble. If you want it, you can have plenty of it, but why want it?”

“I’m not coming with you,” Eddie snarled. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

“The same old story,” the detective said. “Let’s go.” Eddie hesitated, then he let the two men shove him into the elevator and down to the waiting police car. Ten minutes later, he was facing Brennan and Fenner in Brennan’s office.

“What’s the big idea?” Eddie blustered. “You’ve no right to bring me here. I want my lawyer.”

“Show him the exhibits,” Brennan said, “then bring him back.”

Shrugging, Eddie swaggered out with the two detectives, but he felt far from swaggering. Why had they picked up Anna? Just how much did Anna know? Had she talked?

Five minutes later, he was back in front of Brennan, white-faced and shaking.

“We know you and your pals knocked those guys off,” Brennan said. “Johnny talked before he was hit. We know you and your pals snatched the Blandish girl. You have a chance to save your dirty hide, Schultz. We want the girl out of the club. You tell us how we get her out and I’ll see you keep out of the gas chamber. You’ll go away for ten to fifteen, but you’ll save your goddamn hide. Is it a deal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, copper,” Eddie said, sweat running down his face. “I didn’t snatch the girl... I didn’t kill those guys. I want my lawyer.”

“I haven’t time to argue with you, Schultz,” Brennan said. “Your only hope is to come clean, and you’d better come clean fast or else you’ll wish you were never born.”

“I tell you I don’t know a thing!” Eddie shouted. “I want my lawyer.”

Brennan picked up the telephone receiver. “Send O’Flagherty and Doogan up here right away,” he said and as he replaced the receiver, he went on to Eddie, “These two guys have been pushed around badly by gangsters like you. O’Flagherty was in hospital for four months and Doogan lost an eye. We keep them on the force because they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if we didn’t, they’re not much use for active service, but they do have their uses. They hate gangsters. Every now and then I get a tough bird like you who won’t cooperate with me. I hand him over to these two guys and they love to have him. I don’t inquire what they do to him, but invariably he talks after being with them for a couple of hours or less. He invariably looks a hell of a mess when he comes back here to do his talking, but that doesn’t worry me because my two boys were in a hell of a mess when we found them after the gangsters had worked them over.”

Eddie had heard about O’Flagherty and Doogan. He knew some of the boys had beaten up the two detectives, and at the time, he had rubbed his hands gleefully at the news, but the idea of having these two apes work him over appalled him.

“You can’t do this to me!” he exclaimed, backing up against the wall. “I’ve got friends! You touch me and I’ll see you lose your job.”

Brennan grinned wolfishly.

“All you rats say the same thing — I’m still here.”

The door bounced open and two men came in. Eddie had never seen men as big as these two with the exception of professional heavyweights. They were dressed in sweat shirts and blue slacks. The sight of their enormous, rolling muscles and their hard, brutal faces turned him cold.

They stood by the door, looking at him. Doogan, whose empty red eye socket seemed to glare directly at Eddie, folded enormous hands into fists. O’Flagherty, his face scarred, his nose flattened, looked expectantly at Brennan.

“Boys,” Brennan said, “this is Eddie Schultz. We know he’s connected with the kidnapping of the Blandish girl. He says there’s no one on this pansy police force who can make him talk. Do you want to have a try at him?”

O’Flagherty showed his broken teeth in a grin. He eyed Eddie the way a tiger might eye a fat goat.

“Sure, Captain,” he said. “We would like a try. He doesn’t look so tough.”

Doogan walked up to Eddie.

“Are you tough, baby?” he asked, peering at Eddie with his one eye. His right hand whizzed up and slapped Eddie across his face. It was as if he had been hit with a sledge hammer. He rocketed across the room and went down on his hands and knees, his head spinning, his face on fire.

“Hey! Not in my goddamn office!” Brennan protested. “I don’t want blood all over the place. Get him out of here!” Eddie pushed himself to his feet. His nerve cracked as Doogan and O’Flagherty closed in on him.

“Call them off!” he yelled. “I’ll talk! Don’t let them touch me!”

“Hold it, boys,” Brennan said and got to his feet.

The two policemen drew back, gaping in astonishment and disappointment at Eddie.

“I’ll talk,” Eddie repeated, holding his bruised, flaming cheek. “Don’t let them touch me.”

“Well, this is a surprise,” Brennan said. “Okay, boys, wait outside. If I think he needs loosening up, I’ll call you.”

Doogan wiped his nose with the back of his hand in a gesture of disgust.

“Can I hit him once more, Captain?” he asked hopefully, doubling his fists.

Eddie backed away, shielding his face with his hands.

“Not right now,” Brennan said. “Maybe later.”

Reluctantly, the two policemen went out.

“Sit down,” Brennan said.

Eddie sank into a chair, facing Brennan.

“Is the Blandish girl in the club?” Brennan asked.

Eddie licked his lips.

“Is that deal still on, Captain? You keep me out of the gas box?”

“It’s still on. Is she in there?”

“Yeah.”

“How do we get to her?”

Eddie hesitated, then he blurted out, “She’s dead, Captain. There was nothing I could do about it. It was Ma. She made Doc knock her off.”

Both Fenner and Brennan got to their feet.

“Are you lying?” Brennan asked in a cold, harsh voice.

“I tell you it was nothing to do with me,” Eddie said frantically. “Ma always wanted to get rid of the girl, but Slim fell for her. Then we heard this guy was going to talk to Johnny and Ma sent Slim and the boys to fix Johnny. While Slim was out of the way, Ma decided to knock the girl off. I tried to stop her, but you can’t do a goddamn thing with Ma once she’s made up her mind. She told Doc to give the girl a shot.”

Brennan and Fenner exchanged glances. Fenner made a gesture of helplessness. All along, he had expected to hear Miss Blandish was dead: this came as no surprise to him.

“Is there another way into the club except past that steel door?” Brennan asked.

“Through the warehouse next door,” Eddie said. “There’s a door in the wall on the left as you go in.”

Brennan yelled for Doogan.

“Take this rat down to the cells,” he said as Doogan came in, “and lay off him, do you hear?”

Doogan grabbed hold of Eddie and hustled him out.

Fenner said, “Maybe it’s the best thing. Even her old man hoped she would be dead. I’d better tell him.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll fix that old bitch of a woman. Do you want to come along?”

“I’ll be along. I’ll call Blandish first.”

As Fenner reached for the telephone, Brennan ran out, yelling instructions to the riot squad sergeant.