Lorna stared for a moment “Prospective husband? Now I know you’re crazy. If you think I—”
Davis grinned crookedly. “No. I don’t think you want to sit in the electric chair. That’s why you’re going to marry me. A wife can’t testify against a husband, you know.” The grin became strained. “But it’s a two-way street. A husband can’t testify against a wife, either.”
“Testify about what? All I did was keep Liddell here while you went to talk to the girl. I didn’t know you were going to kill her.”
“I know that, baby. And so do you. But if they ever started putting the heat on me at headquarters, who knows what I’d be likely to say. You know?”
“That’s blackmail.”
“Insurance, baby. Electric-chair insurance. And the premium isn’t very high.”
“Just half of everything I’ve got.”
“Look what you get in return. You get to keep on living.”
The blonde shook her head from side to side. “It won’t work, I tell you. They’d smell a rat in a minute if I were to marry you so soon after Abner—”
“Nobody has to know. We don’t announce it for a year or so unless they get lucky and stumble on something.” A hard note crept into his voice. “Don’t forget it’s for your good as well as mine. If I get to sit in that chair, you’ll be sitting in my lap.”
The blonde stared at him with stricken eyes. “There’s no other way?”
“That’s not very flattering, baby. Good thing I’m not sensitive.” Davis grinned at her. The grin got broader as she swung away from him, headed for the bar and poured herself a stiff slug of Scotch. She swallowed it in one gulp, coughed as it burned her throat. “When do we do it? Get married, I mean?” she asked without turning around.
Davis shrugged. “The sooner the better. We can drive out tonight, get down to Baltimore, get it over with and be back before morning.”
Lorna poured herself another drink, swallowed it slowly. She set the glass down, bobbed her head jerkily. “Okay. I’ll get dressed. I won’t be long.”
Davis nodded. “Sure, baby. Only leave the door open. Just so I know you’re not making any phone calls. Like the one you made to me while Liddell was here. The one where you told me to take care of the redhead.”
Lorna whirled on him, started to retort, shrugged her shoulders. She headed for the bedroom, left the door open.
Davis grinned as she disappeared into the other room, licked his lips in anticipation. He poured himself two fingers of liquor, sipped it contentedly. He was almost finished with his drink when the girl reappeared in the doorway. He frowned his displeasure when he noticed she hadn’t begun to change.
“I told you as soon as possible, baby.” The hard note was back in his voice. He saw the .38 in her hand for the first time, gasped as she brought it into firing position. “You crazy? I warned you—”
“Sure. You warned me — husbands can’t testify against their wives. But neither can dead men.”
Davis dropped his glass, his hand streaked for his lapel. The gun in the girl’s hand bucked, spat yellow flame. The detective’s body staggered backward as the slug hit him. He struggled to free his gun from its holster, fielded two more slugs in the midsection. He laced his hands across his body in a futile effort to stem the flow of red that was already beginning to seep through his fingers. His knees buckled under him, he hit the floor face first, didn’t move.
Lorna Kyler moved swiftly. She scooped up the glass Davis had been using, quickly dried it and replaced it on the bar. Then she ran to the hall door, pulled it open, started screaming.
Inspector Herlehy of Homicide stood at the picture window, stared down at the river below. Behind him, the men from the medical examiner’s office were lifting Tim Davis’ body onto a stretcher. They covered him with a blanket, strapped him on. One of the men approached the inspector, held out a form to be initialed.
Herlehy looked up at the knock on the door, scowled when he recognized the newcomer as Johnny Liddell. He initialed the form, gave it back to the man from the mortuary section.
“What are you doing here, Johnny?” he wanted to know.
“Representing Seaway Insurance, Inspector.” Liddell nodded to the shrouded body on the stretcher. “My company has an interest in this character. When word came through that he got himself dead, they asked me to drop by.”
“What kind of interest?”
Liddell shrugged. “A big client, Abner Kyler, was supposedly killed in an automobile accident. This character had been doing a tail job on Abner. Supposed to have been keeping an eye on the old man and his secretary.”
Herlehy suddenly looked as though he had a sour taste in his mouth. “The one who cut her throat.” He nodded toward the dead man. “Davis tried to blackmail her and she couldn’t face it. So we’re sending him down to keep her company.”
Liddell pursed his lips. “Where’d you get all this?”
“Mrs. Kyler. Davis came here after he left the secretary. He read about the secretary doing the Dutch in the early edition of the tabs, and he saw a chance to make some real money by selling the whole story to a scandal magazine. He wanted money from Mrs. Kyler to keep quiet about the whole mess.” He shrugged. “She didn’t want the scandal so she started to argue with him. When he started to push her around, she tried to call the police. In the struggle, she killed him.”
Liddell considered it, nodded. “Sounds like it could happen.”
“The night clerk saw the guy come in. He wasn’t here much more than fifteen minutes when the shooting and screaming started.” Herlehy pushed his hat to the back of his head. “Want to talk to Mrs. Kyler?” Liddell nodded.
The Inspector led the way to the bedroom door, knocked. There was a muffled invitation to enter. He turned the knob, pushed the door open.
The room beyond was a large bedroom with a small balcony that overlooked the river. The blonde was sprawled out on the bed, a handkerchief pressed against her mouth. She sat up when she saw Liddell, then looked from him to the Inspector and back.
“Mr. Liddell! You heard?”
Liddell nodded. “What happened?”
“He tried to blackmail me. When I refused, he beat me. He threatened to kill me. I managed to get the gun—”
“You did real good, chickie, but it was a waste of time.” He turned to Herlehy. “On my advice, Seaway will refuse to pay the claim on Abner Kyler.” He looked back to the woman on the bed. “We’re convinced it was no accident.”
Lorna Kyler jumped to her feet. “What are you saying?”
“We’re saying that Abner Kyler was killed because you wanted his money and you knew you wouldn’t get a cent if he got his evidence against you into a divorce court. So you made a deal with Davis to kill him.”
“You crazy?” the girl gasped. “I hired Davis to get evidence of his carrying on with the Ravell woman.”
“You can stop lying, chickie. Davis was working for your husband. That’s why Davis was able to get him.”
Herlehy scowled. “You can prove some of this, I hope?”
Liddell turned to the Inspector. “That’s why the secretary had to be killed. The canceled checks came back today, and when she saw the retainer check made out to Tim Davis, she put two and two together.”
“You can’t prove that,” the blonde snapped. “There is no such check.”
“Don’t count on it, chickie. Even if Tim Davis did destroy the check itself, the bank makes photostats of all checks paid out”
Herlehy watched the play of emotion on the girl’s face. “Even so, why should she kill Davis?”
“It was getting too hot. Maybe he raised the ante. Maybe he wanted it all, huh, Lorna? With you thrown in for a bonus?” The blonde stared at him, started to back away. “You kept me here while he went to scare the redhead,” Liddell continued. “That bit of spilling the liquor on the dress was pretty transparent. But I couldn’t figure out why. When I found the redhead dead, I knew.”