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He looked at me for quite a long time before he said: He has a gun.

One of the velvety tough guys leaned against the middle of my spine with something that was probably not a fishing rod. Exploring hands removed the gun and looked for others.

Anything else? a voice asked.

Brunette shook his head. Not now.

One of the gunners slid my automatic across the desk. Brunette put the pen down and picked up a letter opener and pushed the gun around gently on his blotter.

Well, he said quietly, looking past my shoulder. Do I have to explain what I want now?

One of them went out quickly and shut the door. The other was so still he wasnt there. There was a long easy silence, broken by the distant hum of voices and the deep-toned music and somewhere down below a dull almost imperceptible throbbing.

Drink?

Thanks.

The gorilla mixed a couple at the little bar. He didnt try to hide the glasses while he did it. He placed one on each side of the desk, on black glass scooters.

Cigarette?

Thanks.

Egyptian all right?

Sure.

We lit up. We drank. It tasted like good Scotch. The gorilla didnt drink.

What I want I began.

Excuse me, but thats rather unimportant, isnt it?

The soft catlike smile and the lazy half-closing of the yellow eyes.

The door opened and the other one came back and with him was Mess-jacket, gangster mouth and all. He took one look at me and his face went oyster-white.

He didnt get past me, he said swiftly, curling one end of his lips.

He had a gun, Brunette said, pushing it with the letter opener. This gun. He even pushed it into my back more or less, on the boat deck.

Not past me, boss, Mess-jacket said just as swiftly.

Brunette raised his yellow eyes slightly and smiled at me. Well?

Sweep him out, I said. Squash him somewhere else.

I can prove it by the taximan, Mess-jacket snarled.

Youve been off the stage since five-thirty?

Not a minute, boss.

Thats no answer. An empire can fall in a minute.

Not a second, boss.

But he can be had, I said, and laughed.

Mess-jacket took the smooth gliding step of a boxer and his fist lashed like a whip. It almost reached my temple. There was a dull thud. His fist seemed to melt in midair. He slumped sideways and clawed at a corner of the desk, then rolled on his back. It was nice to see somebody else get sapped for a change.

Brunette went on smiling at me.

I hope youre not doing him an injustice, Brunette said. Theres still the matter of the door to the companionway.

Accidentally open.

Could you think of any other idea?

Not in such a crowd.

Ill talk to you alone, Brunette said, not looking at anyone but me.

The gorilla lifted Mess-jacket by the armpits and dragged him across the cabin and his partner opened an inner door. They went through. The door closed.

All right, Brunette said. Who are you and what do you want?

Im a private detective and I want to talk to a man named Moose Malloy.

Show me youre a private dick.

I showed him. He tossed the wallet back across the desk. His wind-tanned lips continued to smile and the smile was getting stagy.

Im investigating a murder, I said. The murder of a man named Marriott on the bluff near your Belvedere Club last Thursday night. This murder happens to be connected with another murder, of a woman, done by Malloy, an ex-con and bank robber and all-round tough guy.

He nodded. Im not asking you yet what it has to do me. I assume youll come to that. Suppose you tell me how you got on my boat?

I told you.

It wasnt true, he said gently. Marlowe is the name? It wasnt true, Marlowe. You know that. The kid down on the stage isnt lying. I pick my men carefully.

You own a piece of Bay City, I said. I dont know how big a piece, but enough for what you want. A man named Sonderborg has been running a hideout there. He been running reefers and stickups and hiding hot boys. Naturally, he couldnt do that without connections. I dont think he could do it without you. Malloy was staying with him. Malloy has left. Malloy is about seven feet tall and hard to hide. I think he could hide nicely on a gambling boat.

Youre simple, Brunette said softly. Supposing I wanted to hide him, why should I take the risk out here? He sipped his drink. After all Im in another business. Its hard enough to keep a good taxi service running with out a lot of trouble. The world is full of places a crook can hide. If he has money. Could you think of a better idea?

I could, but to hell with it.

I cant do anything for you. So how did you get on the boat?

I dont care to say.

Im afraid Ill have to have you made to say, Marlowe. His teeth glinted in the light from the brass ships lamps. After all, it can be done.

If I tell you, will you get word to Malloy?

What word?

I reached for my wallet lying on the desk and drew a card from it and turned it over. I put the wallet away and got a pencil instead. I wrote five words on the back of the card and pushed it across the desk. Brunette took it and read what I had written on it. It means nothing to me, he said.

It will mean something to Malloy.

He leaned back and stared at me. I dont make you out. You risk your hide to come out here and hand me a card to pass on to some thug I dont even know. Theres no sense to it.

There isnt if you dont know him.

Why didnt you leave your gun ashore and come aboard the usual way?

I forgot the first time. Then I knew that toughie in the mess jacket would never let me on. Then I bumped into a fellow who knew another way.

His yellow eyes lighted as with a new flame. He smiled and said nothing.

This other fellow is no crook but hes been on the beach with his ears open. You have a loading port that has been unbarred on the inside and you have a ventilator shaft out of which the grating has been removed. Theres one man to knock over to get to the boat deck. Youd better check your crew list, Brunette.

He moved his lips soffly, one over the other. He looked down at the card again. Nobody named Malloy is on board this boat, he said. But if youre telling the truth about that loading port, Ill buy.

Go and look at it.

He still looked down. If theres any way I can get word to Malloy, I will. I dont know why I bother.

Take a look at that loading port.

He sat very still for a moment, then leaned forward and pushed the gun across the desk to me.

The things I do, he mused, as if he was alone. I run towns, I elect mayors, I corrupt police, I peddle dope, I hide out crooks, I heist old women strangled with pearls. What a lot of time I have. He laughed shortly. What a lot of time.

I reached for my gun and tucked it back under my arm. Brunette stood up. I promise nothing, he said, eyeing me steadily. But I believe you.

Of course not.

You took a long chance to hear so little.

Yes.

Well he made a meaningless gesture and then put his hand across the desk.

Shake hands with a chump, he said softly.

I shook hands with him. His hand was small and firm and a little hot.

You wouldnt tell me how you found out about this loading port?

I cant. But the man who told me is no crook.

I could make you tell, he said, and immediately shook his head. No. I believed you once. Ill believe you again. Sit still and have another drink.

He pushed a buzzer. The door at the back opened and one of the nice-tough guys came in.

Stay here. Give him a drink, if he wants it. No rough stuff.

The torpedo sat down and smiled at me calmly. Brunette went quickly out of the office. I smoked. I finished my drink. The torpedo made me another. I finished that, and another cigarette.