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He said: “One of us must be screwy,” as the cab pulled up before a two-story brick building. “Is this the place?”

She nodded. “It’s my father’s restaurant. We live upstairs.” She got out of the cab, opening the door herself. “Don’t bother to get out. I’ll be all right. Please, please, get away from here.”

He stared at her in the gloom, glanced right and left up and down the dark street. It was empty, deserted. The cabman already had the car in gear. The girl turned and started towards the door. Lennox said: “Wait. Where can I find May?”

She said: “I’ll call you. Really, I will.” Her voice sounded desperate. “Please go.”

Bill shrugged, slammed the door. He leaned forward, told the driver, “Wait around the corner,” opened the door on the far side, and was standing in the street as the cab pulled away.

The girl had reached the door, was pushing it open. She gave a little startled cry, half fear, half surprise. Lennox sensed rather than saw the man in the dark doorway, heard Switzer’s voice: “Take it easy, kid. Zimm wants to talk to you.”

She was crying, and trying to wrench free. “Please let me go, I haven’t talked. Honest, I haven’t.”

The bodyguard growled: “Shut up. Do you want to raise the neighborhood?” and slapped her, his hand making a smacking sound against her full cheek.

Lennox ran forward. Neither saw him until he struck. As his right fist crashed against Switzer’s jaw he caught the girl with his left hand and pulled her back, out of the way, but the body-guard was through. He collapsed with a startled grunt, his legs folding under him. Lennox dived in, wrenched the gun from the man’s shoulder-clip, and straightened as a car swung into the end of the block. Zimm had moved fast to get Switzer to the girl’s place before they arrived. Bill hadn’t expected that. His slitted eyes watched the car as it slowed. Then he shoved the girl behind him. “Get up the stairs, out of the way,” he whispered. He had no time to see that she obeyed, no time for anything.

A voice from the car called. “Al! Al! Did you get her?”

Lennox snapped a shot high, heard a muffled curse. Then a gun flashed in return, the bullet chipping the brick above his head, showering his face with stinging particles.

He pressed tightly against the wall, using the jamb for cover. He’d hoped that they would run at the shot, but they weren’t running, and his skin felt tight about his jaws as his lips pressed into a grim line. This might be nasty. Switzer stirred and Lennox poked him with the toe of his shoe. “Easy, punk.”

The man lay still. A voice called: “You haven’t got a chance, Lennox. Come out.”

Bill grinned sourly. A hand torch flashed towards him and he snapped another shot. The torch went out. Then a shotgun belched from the car, twin barrels with deafening roar, the slugs chipping at the brick, searching the dark corners.

Switzer cursed. One of the slugs tugged at the shoulder of Lennox’ coat, but did not break the skin.

He reserved his fire. He had no idea whether the gun he had contained a full clip. There was silence for a moment. Then something moved at the rear of the car. They were getting set to rush the door. He brought the gun up, waited until he caught a movement of shadow and fired, just as a second car swung into the block, its horn blowing, shrilly, steadily.

The engine of the car at the curb raced. Men swung aboard and it started with a jerk, the rubber making screeching noise as it gripped the surface of the street. The car went around the corner fast just as the second car spun to the curb, stopping dead with four brakes set. Lennox expected cops to boil out, but the door came open and Nancy Hobbs was on the pavement.

“Bill! Bill! Are you all right?”

He said: “Sure, honey. Maria, Maria, come down, quick.” He could hear her feet. Then Switzer stirred, and Lennox warned him hoarsely. The next moment he was pushing the little singer into the coupe, telling Houser to pull up to the corner and stop.

Maria protested, “But I live here.”

Lennox’ voice was tense. “Listen, kid. That crowd isn’t fooling. The further away from them you stay, the better.” The coupe leaped forward, Lennox riding the running-board. It jerked to a stop beside the cab. Bill flung the driver a bill, had a glimpse of the man’s white face. Then they were gone, Lennox squeezing inside.

Houser said, excitedly: “Where to?”

“Anywhere,” Bill told him. “How did you muggs happen to show up?”

Nancy laughed softly. “We didn’t happen to. Ben knew where Maria lived. I know you and thought there might be trouble.”

Bill didn’t answer at once. When he did, he said: “We’ve got to find a safe place to park this kid tonight, somewhere where Zimm can’t find her.”

Nancy nodded. “What about that cabin of mine in Topanga?”

Lennox said: “Swell. We’ll run you two kids up there, then come after you tomorrow.”

“Why not let me get my coupe and drive up?” Nancy suggested. “What’s the need of your going?”

“None, I guess.” He gave Houser her address and was silent as the coupe went across town. Finally he said: “Listen, Maria. Won’t you tell me what this is all about?”

The girl started to speak, stopped, and was suddenly crying against Nancy’s shoulder. Nancy glared at Bill in the light from the passing street lamps. “You big lug,” she said, “let her alone.”

When the car pulled up to the apartment Lennox said: “Drive into the alley and stop this side of the garage entrance.” He waited until the car stopped, then opened the door and, climbing out, helped the girls. “I’ll get the coupé if you’ll gimme your keys.”

Nancy handed them over. “I’ll go with you.” They went down the concrete ramp together. At the bottom Lennox said: “Sorry to spoil your evening, kid, but thanks.”

She said: “If you think I’m going to the mountains for you, you’re screwy. She’s sweet, Bill, and scared plenty, but she’s game. You lay off. What difference does this numbers business make? I’m going upstairs and get some clothes. If you question her while I’m gone, I’ll brain you.” She turned and went towards the elevator.

Lennox drove the coupe up the ramp and found Houser standing beside his car. “Where’s Maria?”

“She’ll be back in a minute.” Houser fumbled with a match as if he were trying to say something and couldn’t get it out. Maria came through the door of the garage office and walked towards them. “I can’t thank either of you enough for helping me tonight. I hope—” Her voice broke. “I hope that you don’t get into trouble.” Her eyes were puffy, swollen.

Houser’s voice sounded sharp in Lennox’ ears. “Don’t thank me, kid. Please, will you let me send you out of town? I’ve an announcer friend in...”

She said: “No, no, I can’t. I’ve got to stay here. Something terrible might happen if I went... I...” She broke off as Nancy came out, carrying an overnight case. She handed the bag to Bill and slid in under the wheel. He put the case at the back of the seat, helped Maria in and said to Nancy, “Call me from the store in the morning.” Then he stepped back and watched the car pull out of the driveway.

Houser took a deep breath. “I’ll run you home, Bill. Get in.”

Lennox said, “Thanks,” and climbed in. As he put the car into gear, Houser swore. “If anything happens to that girl I’ll never forgive myself. I could have stopped this.”

Bill stared at him. “What do you mean?”

Houser took time to answer. “I knew that there was something screwy. Zimm arranged it all, her appearing on my program, her winning. I thought at first he was in love with her. I don’t know now. I don’t know what to think.”

Lennox was still staring. “How do you mean, Zimm arranged it? What the hell does he have to do with your radio program?”