She said: “Which means, what?”
“I’m trying to dope it out,” he told her. “Payman knew that Spurck had been threatened. I told him not to print it and he promised, but after this the bridle would be off, and yet there isn’t a mention. I’m going to get hold of him and find out why.”
Her eyes were very wide. “You mean...”
He said: “I don’t know what I mean,” and went towards the phone, called the Tribune and asked for Bailey. When the assistant city editor answered, he said: “Did Payman talk to you about this numbers thing? This is Bill Lennox, of General.”
Bailey said: “What numbers thing? I haven’t seen Payman for a week.”
“A week? Doesn’t he still work for the sheet?”
“As far as I know. What’s this numbers thing you’re talking about?”
“Skip it,” Bill told him. “How does Colonel Clark stand for legmen who don’t show up for a week?”
There was marked hesitation in Bailey’s voice. “The Colonel is out, Lennox. He’s lost control.”
“Lost control, and Payman stands in with the new owner. Is that it? By the way, who does own the Tribune?” Lennox’ voice had sharpened.
“It’s not generally known.” Bailey was stalling.
Bill had a sudden hunch. “It wouldn’t be Zimm, would it?”
“Er... I’m not saying a thing.”
Lennox’ mouth twisted. Bailey’s voice told him that his guess had clicked. He said, “One thing more. What’s Mike’s address?”
Bailey gave it without hesitation and Bill hung up and went back to the waiting girl.
She said: “What did you find out?”
He gave her a twisted look. “Plenty. Zimm now owns the Tribune.”
“No...”
“Right, and Mr. Payman is going to talk and like it.” He went out the door with her at his heels. He said: “You stay here. You can’t go.”
She didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she beat him to the car and slid in. “What’s the address?”
He swore at her as he climbed in. “You might get killed.”
She said: “You’re still alive. What’s the address?” He gave it to her and was silent as the coupe turned east.
The building was old, of yellow brick, with long bay windows jutting out on either side of the entrance. Bill left the girl to park the car, went in, found Pay-man’s name on the mail box and climbed the stairs. He stopped before a door on the third floor, knocked, and waited. There was sound within. Someone fumbled with a night chain. Then the door opened and a man’s face showed. It wasn’t a nice face; the eyes were small, piggish, and there was a stubble of reddish beard.
“What do you want?”
Lennox said: “Payman.”
The eyes got smaller. “He ain’t here. Scram, fella.” The door started to shut. Lennox’ foot was in the way. The man kicked at Bill’s sport shoe, his face getting redder. Lennox grinned, gave the door a sudden shove. The big man was off balance, and almost fell as the door crashed back. He took backward steps, trying to get his balance, clawing at his shoulder-clip. Bill was after him like a cat, giving him no chance to get the gun. He drove his fist against the man’s jaw, saw him fall and jumped on to him, digging his knees into the man’s ribs while he got the gun. Then he rose.
“Get up.”
Slowly the big man crawled to his feet. “You’ll get yours when the big shot hears. You don’t know who you’re monkeying with.”
Bill said: “I’m beginning to have a faint idea. Where’s Payman?”
“Never heard of him.”
“So that’s the way it is. Want some more?” He swung the gun suggestively. “Get over against that wall, quick.”
The man moved. Lennox kept one eye on him as he circled the room and peered through the bedroom door. Then he swore his surprise. Maria Mussaco was tied to the chair beside the window.
Bill said to his prisoner: “Come in here where I can watch you. Don’t get any screwy ideas, either. Get your nose into that wall.” He watched while the man obeyed. Then he untied the girl. “What happened?” he asked, when he removed the gag.
She shook her head. “Nothing happened. I came with friends.”
Lennox swore. “And they tied you up, just to be sure that you wouldn’t walk out on them? Stop lying, kid. I’m trying to help.”
The big man laughed. Lennox whirled. “Another sound out of you, and I’ll poke your tongue down your throat.” He said to the girl, “I’ve spent the day hunting you and you hand me a runaround. What’s the idea? Have they bought you off?”
Her eyes were on his face, wide, dark pools which mirrored fear. He couldn’t stay mad. She was scared, shivering with fear. A sudden noise from the hall made him move towards the connecting door. The hall door was opening slowly. He held his gun, waiting. Then he relaxed as Nancy appeared. “You should whistle, kid. I might have shot you.”
There was a small pearl-handled gun in her hand. “You were so long, I got nervous.” Then she saw Maria and her eyes widened, went back to Lennox. “I couldn’t whistle. I wasn’t sure who might be here.”
He said: “You’re swell, honey. Come here and watch this punk while I find some tape.” He found some in the bathroom, forced the man to lie face down on the bed, and fastened his ankles and wrists. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Maria said: “I’m not going. I can’t. I don’t dare.”
“You’re not go— The hell you’re not.” He swung her up lightly into his arms. “You keep still, kid, or I’ll get tough.”
Nancy said: “Bill!” sharply, but he paid no attention, was already in the hall.
“You don’t get the angle, Maria. People who mean plenty to me are on the spot unless I get Zimm, and I haven’t got a thing on him. You know something. What’s the matter? What are you afraid of? What hold has he on you? Tell me and let me help.”
She was crying as he carried her down the stairs and put her in the coupe, but she did not answer. He hated bullying women, but he knew that at any moment Zimm might strike again at Spurck. He had to stop the man and he was beginning to get an idea. He said to Nancy, who was back at the wheeclass="underline" “My apartment as quick as you can. Where does Payman come into this, Maria?”
Still she did not answer and he said, suddenly: “If it’s Tom May you’re protecting, stop it. He’s dead.” It was brutal, but he had to snap her out of it, had to make her talk. If she were in love with May...
She said: “Tom... dead... Does my mother know?”
He stared at her. She wasn’t taking it the way he had expected. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been in love with the grip. “I don’t think so. I haven’t told her. Why?”
The girl was speaking to herself. “Tom was no good, but mother didn’t know that. She loved him.” Then she said to Lennox: “Tom’s father used to be a waiter in the restaurant. He died, and mother raised Tom.”
Lennox stared. “How long has he lived with you?”
“About seven years.”
“You were born in this country, weren’t you, Maria?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes.” There was a funny note in her voice. “What made you ask that?”
He was thinking about something else and did not answer. At the apartment he helped her out and hurried her through the lobby to the elevator. Once in his own rooms he called Nancy into the kitchenette. “So you were right. She wasn’t in love with May.”
The girl did not smile. “Looks like it.”
He said: “You don’t rub it in; you’re swell. But how did you know?”
Nancy’s lips twitched. “She’s in love with Ben Houser.”
“With Houser? You’re nuts. What makes you think that?”
Nancy shrugged. “No man would understand, but I’ll tell you one thing. If anyone can get her to talk, Houser can, but it’s a dirty trick.”