The Loner: Crossfire

Chapter 16

“Let her go, Morelli,” Conrad ordered.

The bodyguard’s bushy eyebrows rose. “But, sir, a girl like this ain’t for the likes of you! I’m not sure how she even got into the hotel. Usually the staff don’t let such tramps get anywhere near the guests.”

“I know her,” Conrad said, not caring whether he shocked Morelli. “Now let her go.” The flat, hard tone of his voice left no room for argument.

Morelli lowered Carmen until her feet were on the floor, then released her, stepping back with a frown of deep disapproval on his face.

“What you do in your personal life is none o’ my concern, sir—” he began.

“That’s right, it’s not,” Conrad cut in. He took hold of Carmen’s arm. She looked like a terrified doe about to bolt. In a steady, calming voice, he went on. “Come with me. You’ll be safe here. I give you my word on that.”

Her dark eyes were big with fear. “Hans and Ulrich may have followed me. I tried to get away from them, but I don’t know if I did.”

“I’m not afraid of Hans and Ulrich, and I’ll wager that Morelli here isn’t, either.”

“No, sir,” Morelli chimed in without hesitation. “I don’t know who those lads are, but I ain’t afraid of anybody that draws breath.”

Conrad managed to steer Carmen toward the door of the suite without making it seem like he was forcing her. As they went inside, Morelli started to follow, but a hard look from Conrad made him stop. Conrad closed the door behind them, leaving the bodyguard in the hallway.

“All right, Carmen,” he said gently. “Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe a drink, señor?”

Conrad hesitated, unsure whether he should be giving liquor to someone as young as she was, but considering where she worked and what she did for a living, he supposed it was a little late to be worrying about things like that. He poured a little brandy into a glass and handed it to her. She clutched it with both hands, which were trembling slightly, and drank down the brandy.

That seemed to steady her nerves. She took a deep breath. “Gracias, Señor Browning.”

“How do you know my name? How did you know you could find me here?”

“After the big fight at Spanish Charley’s ... after Ling Yuan came in to help you get away ... I followed you. It was Dutchy’s idea.”

Conrad hadn’t realized anyone had followed him away from the dive that night, but he supposed a slender young girl like Carmen could have slipped through the shadows behind him without him noticing.

“Why did Dutchy want you to follow me?”

“I think he wanted to take revenge on you for starting trouble. He would have sent Hans and Ulrich to kill you later. But when I told him I followed you all the way here to the Palace ... he seemed to change his mind about that.”

Conrad wasn’t surprised. Dutchy must have realized there was more to his troublesome visitor than met the eye.

“I thought you must work here, maybe as a bellboy. I-I have a cousin who works in the hotel as a maid. Dutchy told me to talk to her, to tell her what you look like, and find out if she knew you. She told me there was no one working here who looks like you, Señor Browning. Then she told me about one of the guests ... about you.”

“And you told Dutchy,” Conrad guessed.

“I had to! He would have killed me if I tried to lie to him.”

Conrad didn’t know if that was true or not, but Carmen believed it was.

“When you told him, he was even more interested than he was before, right?”

Carmen’s head bobbed up and down. “Sí.”

Dutchy probably sensed a possibility for blackmail. A man wealthy enough to stay in one of the Palace Hotel’s finest suites who prowled around squalid saloons and taverns like Spanish Charley’s ... usually had secrets he would be willing to pay to keep quiet.

“I know you didn’t have any choice in what you did,” Conrad told Carmen as she looked down at the richly carpeted floor in shame. “I’m not upset with you.”

“Truly, señor?” she murmured.

“Truly.”

She moved closer and reached up to throw her arms around his neck before he could stop her. “Oh, gracias, señor, gracias! I thought you would be angry with me for betraying your secret. I-I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive”—Conrad untangled her arms from his neck—“and even if there was, all you’d have to do to earn it is ask. But there’s not, so you don’t have to worry.” He held her hands to keep her from grabbing him again. “Now what’s all this about Hans and Ulrich threatening to kill you?”

“Dutchy said he knew someone who would pay him a great deal of money if he told them about you. But he and I were the only ones who knew, and I think he was worried I might try to reach this person, whoever it is, and sell the information first. So he decided to get rid of me, even though I work for him and killing me would cost him money.” She pouted. “I am only a cheap Mex whore. Dutchy can make more by selling the truth about you than he can from me.”

Conrad had a hunch he knew who Dutchy intended to sell that information to: Dex Lannigan. Lannigan must have put out the word that he was interested in anything he could learn about Conrad Browning, and Dutchy would know what a powerful, important man Lannigan was in San Francisco’s underworld and would be eager to curry favor with him.

“How do you know Hans and Ulrich intended to kill you?”

Carmen made a face like she wanted to spit. “I overheard them talking in their mongrel tongue. They think I do not know what they say, but I understand a little. Enough to know Dutchy told them to kill me and dump my body in the bay. I slipped out and ran away, but I ... I didn’t know where to go. Then I thought of you.”

“You already sold me out to Dutchy, remember? What makes you think I’d be willing to help you?”

“Because I remembered how kind you were to me at Spanish Charley’s. You could have done what you paid for and then asked me your questions, but you did not.” A shrewd look appeared on her face. “And I remembered as well how you asked about the Golden Gate. Dex Lannigan owns that place, and I think Dutchy plans on telling him about you. But maybe I could get to Señor Lannigan first... .”

“So you’re not above a little blackmail of your own, eh?” Conrad asked with a faint smile.

“My life has been a hard one, señor.”

Conrad didn’t doubt that for a second.

“I have learned to do what I must to survive,” Carmen went on.

“How much do you want?” Conrad asked.

Carmen shook her head. “Nothing. No money.”

Conrad frowned. “Then what do you want?”

“I told you I have a cousin who works here in the hotel. Her father, my uncle, is a fisherman. If I could get to his boat and hide there, he could take me away from San Francisco, take me to some place safe. This is what I want.”

“Why do you need my help to do that?”

“Because Hans and Ulrich and maybe Dutchy himself will be out searching for me. I am sure if any of them see me, they will kill me on sight. But I saw the way you fought, señor. I know you could protect me from them and make sure I got away safely. This is what I want from you.”

Conrad studied her closely and didn’t see any sign that she was lying. Her story held together and made sense.

“We’d need to go tonight.”

“Sí, señor, as quickly as possible.”

As usual, Conrad didn’t take long to make up his mind. He didn’t owe the girl anything, and helping her escape from the men who wanted to kill her wouldn’t gain him anything ...

Except the knowledge that he had not only saved her life but also helped free her from a hellish existence. He couldn’t turn his back on her, even though that might be the smartest thing to do. She had already told Dutchy who he was; she couldn’t do anything else to hurt him.

“All right. Let me get my hat.” Conrad already had the shoulder rig for the Smith & Wesson in place, so he left it on and didn’t strap on his regular gunbelt.

When the two of them stepped into the corridor, Morelli got up hurriedly from the chair. “I have to go out for a while, Morelli,” Conrad said.

“Then I’m goin’ with you, sir. Beggin’ your pardon, of course, but I’ve got my orders.”

“It may turn out to be dangerous,” Conrad warned.

Morelli shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Mr. Turnbuckle said to keep my eye on you, so I’m keepin’ my eye on you.”

“Very well. The señorita will tell us where we’re going.”

“To the waterfront,” Carmen said. “Where the fishing boats are docked.”

“Lead the way,” Conrad told her.

As they went downstairs, Conrad described for Morelli the three men they were watching out for particularly. The bodyguard was intensely curious, but didn’t ask any questions. He nodded and said, “Yes, sir. If I see any of the scoundrels, I’ll be ready for ’em.”

They left the hotel through the rear entrance Conrad had used a few nights earlier. As far as he could tell, no one paid any attention to them. But he hadn’t noticed Carmen trailing him the other night, so he warned himself not to be too confident.

After they had gone a block or so, he hailed a horse-drawn cab and helped Carmen into it. Morelli jerked a thumb at the driver’s seat. “I’ll ride up top.”

As the cab rolled up and down San Francisco’s steep streets toward the waterfront, Carmen said, “I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for your help, Señor Browning.” She sat forward. “But maybe I could show you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Conrad told her as he lifted a hand to stop her from moving any closer to him. “Where are you going to go, Carmen?”

“I have some cousins who live in Morellirey. They will take me in.”

Conrad held out some folded bills and pressed them into her hand. “Take this money. It’ll help you make a fresh start.”

“Oh, gracias, señor, gracias. I ... I cannot believe anyone can be as good as you are.”

“Far from it. I just want you to have a chance.”

The cab dropped them off in an area where the night air was thick with the smells of saltwater and rotting fish. Little slapping noises came from the docks where the waves washed against the pilings. Carmen pointed. “My uncle’s boat is down here.” She started along the wharf, flanked by Conrad and Morelli. When they came to one of the docks that extended into the water with boats tied up on both sides of it, Carmen said eagerly, “Along here.”

The area was dimly lit by lanterns hanging here and there casting feeble yellow glows into the gathering fog. Something stirred inside Conrad, a sense that not everything was as it should be. No one was around. The docks shouldn’t have been completely deserted, even at that time of night.

When he heard footsteps on the damp planks behind them, he knew his hunch was right. He stopped and started to turn, then froze as he felt the sharp point of a knife in Carmen’s hand penetrate his coat and shirt, and dig into his flesh.