‘Well, you certainly know how to take care of yourself,’ Mifflin said with unconcealed admiration. ‘That was quite a jam you were in.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, massaging my wrists. ‘Let’s go to your office. I want to talk to you.’ I looked over to Paula, who was closing the lid of the gramophone. ‘Nice, quick work. What did I do? Got you out of bed?*
‘You got me out of a bath,’ Paula said. ‘If you’re not going to get into any more trouble, I’d like to go back to it.’
‘Go ahead, and thanks, Paula. You saved me from the tigers,’ and I gave MacGraw a grin.
He walked out of the room, the back of his neck purple.
When Paula had gone, and Mifflin and I were seated in his overheated office, I said, ‘If this case breaks the way I think it could break, there’s going to be an awful stink in the Press, Tim.’
Mifflin groped hopelessly in his pocket for a cigarette, found none and raised eyebrows at me.
‘Gimme a butt. What do you mean—stink?’
I gave him a cigarette, lit one for myself.
The chances are Marshland’s behind the kidnapping: Ded-rick’s a reefer-smuggler, working in with Barratt. He looks after the Paris end of the business. It’s my bet Marshland found out about him and hired someone to get him out of the way. That’s why Mrs. Dedrick wanted to buy me off.’
Mifflin looked startled. ‘Then where the hell’s Dedrick?’
‘That’s what I want to know. I have an idea Barratt could tell us. There’s a new character on the scene who knows as much about it as Barratt: a tall broad-shouldered fella who wears a fawn suit and a white felt hat’
‘We’re looking for him. So it was you who phoned in that tip?’
‘Yeah; I had a job to do, otherwise I would have hung around. Did you get the clue in the refuse bin?’
‘He stayed the night there, huh?’
‘Must have done.’
‘Well, we’re looking for him. What makes you think Marshland’s hooked up with the kidnapping?’
I told him what I had found out at the Beach Hotel.
‘According to Mrs. Dedrick, he’s skipped to Europe, but I don’t believe it.’
‘Maybe I’d better go up there and see if I can talk to him,’ Mifflin said.
‘Look, will you hold back until tomorrow afternoon? Suppose you got evidence that Barrett’s a reefer-smuggler. Think you could make him talk?’
Mifflin smiled grimly.
‘We could try.’
‘Know where I can get some reefers: about a couple of hundred of them?’
‘The Narcotic Squad would have some. Why?’
‘Let’s have them. Barratt’s not the only one who can plant evidence. You’ll get a tip some time tomorrow where you’ll find two hundred reefers in his room. You take him in, and bounce him around. He doesn’t look as if he’d stand a great deal of toughing up. I think he’ll squeal.’
Mifflin’s eyes widened.
‘I can’t do that! If Brandon found out…’
‘Who’s going to tell him?’
He stared at me, scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully, shook his head.
‘I don’t like it, Vic.’
‘Nor do I, but there’s no other way to swing it. Let’s have the stuff.’
‘Well, all right. We’re going to look pretty wet if he doesn’t talk.’
‘That’s up to you. Turn MacGraw loose on him. He’s feeling frustrated he didn’t get his hands on me.’
Mifflin went out of the room. He was away for about twenty minutes. He came back with a small wooden box.
‘I had to tell the Narcotic Chief why I wanted these. He’s been wanting to get his hands on Barratt for months. He welcomes the idea.’ Mifflin looked shocked ‘Some cops just haven’t any ethics.’
I took the box and stood up.
‘Nor have I when I deal with a rat like Barratt.’
‘Watch out, Vic. I didn’t like the look that Dedrick woman gave you.’
‘Nor did I. How’s Perelli?’
‘He’s all right, Francon saw him this morning. You don’t have to worry about him; anyway, just yet.’
‘Any chance of seeing him?’
‘Not a chance. Brandon’s put a special guard on him. No one except Francon can go near him.’
‘When you get your hands on Barratt, make him talk, Tim. I have a hunch he can blow the lid right off this case.’
‘I’ll get it out of him if he knows anything,’ Mifflin promised.
I collected the gramophone from the charge-room, went into the street to call a taxi.
The time was ten minutes to eleven.
It had been quite a day.
CHAPTER SIX
I
THE next morning, I was kept busy with the routine work of the office until lunch-time. I missed Kerman, as there were many little jobs that had to be done, and which, now he was in Paris, I had to do myself. But by one o’clock I was through, and could give my attention once more to the Dedrick kidnapping.
‘I’m going along to Barratt’s place this afternoon,’ I told Paula while we were eating a quick snack in the office. ‘I have a little present I want to plant on him.’
I told her what I had cooked up with Mifflin.
‘Once we get Barratt alone, and on a charge, we might be able to soften him. Tim thinks he can, anyway.’
Paula didn’t approve of the idea, but then she never ap-proved of anything that wasn’t strictly dealt off the top of the deck.
‘What do you plan to do—wait until he’s out?’ she asked.
‘That’s the idea. It’ll cost money, but then I’m getting hardened to spending money. I’ll bribe Maxie to give me the passkey.’
‘Be careful, Vic.’
I grinned at her.
‘You’re always telling me to be careful. What’s the matter with you these days? You didn’t talk like that two years ago.’
She gave me a quick, worried smile.
‘I suppose I know you better. I wish you’d stick to our usual business, Vic, and cut out these dangerous jobs.’
‘I’m not doing this for fun. If Perelli hadn’t saved my skin, nothing would persuade me to stick my oar in this. He’s not much of a guy to take risks for but he took a risk for me. Barratt might easily have knifed me. I guess I have to go on until I square the score.’
It was half past one when I parked outside the apartment house in Jefferson Avenue.
Maxie was lolling against the counter of the reception desk as I walked across the lobby. There was no girl at the switchboard. The telephone harness was on the counter where he could reach it
‘Want some money?’ I said briskly. ‘I have some for you if you’re going to be co-operative.*
He eyed me suspiciously.
I never refuse money. What do you want?’
‘Your pass-key.’
If I had let off a shotgun he wouldn’t have been more startled.
‘My-what?’
‘Pass-key, and make it snappy. It’s worth fifty dollars, cash on the nail.’
The small eyes blinked.
‘Fifty bucks?’ he said wistfully.
I spread five tens on the counter. If this spending jag kept up, I’d be ruined in a few more days.
He eyed the notes, licked his lips, scratched the side of his nose.
‘I could get slung out,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I can’t do it.’
I laid two more fives on the counter, bent over them and breathed on them gently.
‘That’s the limit,’ I said, and smiled at him. ‘Your pass-key for ten minutes.’
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Barratt’s room. Is he out?’
The small eyes grew round.
‘Yeah; he went out about an hour ago.’
‘What are you worrying about, then? It’s not as if he’s a friend of yours.’