Rourke’s typewriter was working again. “Carl brought in Burns?”
Shayne relayed this, and Carl answered, “I knew Burns was looking for something, and with our outfit under wraps, it was the perfect time. I was just able to swing it with Jo’s cash.”
“We all knew Bobby wouldn’t try anything like this without inside connections,” Shayne said. “Because, of course, the Don would have to go.”
“Not necessarily!” Carl said. “Not necessarily! With Siracusa out of the way…”
“He wasn’t out of the way when you and Bobby made the deal. You agreed to set up the old man for the hit.”
“Well, it’s kind of academic now, isn’t it?” Carl said wearily.
Rourke typed: “I want it exclusive for twelve hours.”
“I was going to suggest the same thing,” Shayne said, “and I think Gentry and the county attorney will go along. The only case we’re going to bring against Carl is for killing Siracusa. No mention of any private matters, or any private understandings with rookies from out of town. That will keep him straight with the family. In return, he’s going to tell us all he knows about Sherman Meister’s murder.”
Jo Meister screamed, “It’s immoral! Immoral! It’s dirty and immoral!”
She sprang at Carl. He didn’t defend himself, and Shayne didn’t come to his assistance. Hugh MacDougall subdued her.
“I must say I think I agree,” he said, staring at Shayne. “Immoral is one word for it.”
“When you hired me,” Shayne said coldly, “that’s what you bought. You wanted a murder case solved and a Mafia family dispersed. If you don’t pay off on the contract, I’ll see you in court. Any more questions, Tim?”
Rourke thought a moment, his fingers poised. “They were going to kill me,” he typed. “You beat me up as the lesser of two evils.”
“They wouldn’t have killed you,” Shayne said evenly. “They weren’t even talking about pushing you around. I had to do what I did. It’s known that you’re a friend of mine. That was the key to the whole thing. They wouldn’t have believed me without it. Do you understand?”
Rourke typed. “No. Maybe sometime. But not now. Not yet.”