‘You’re not having them! That’s final. Now get out!’
He stared at me for a long moment.
‘Well, okay, if that’s the way it has to be,’ he said, not moving. ‘Now I’ll convince you you’re going to part with them. There are millions of dollars involved in this thing. Those tapes could unstick a plan I’ve really worked at, and that’s not going to happen. I don’t give a damn what happens so long as this plan of mine sticks. I have all the money I need to back up the right kind of action to get the tapes. Now, I’ll show you something.’ He took from his pocket a small bottle of blue glass. He removed the cork and very gently poured liquid from the bottle onto the occasional table at his side. The liquid seemed alive. It hissed as it made a tiny puddle in the middle of the table. I could see it stripping off the varnish and stain. ‘This is sulphuric acid,’ he went on. ‘It’s the stuff you throw in people’s faces who don’t co-operate.’ His expression suddenly turned vicious as he stared at me. ‘I know a mob who would arrange to throw this stuff at your wife, Barber, for less than a hundred bucks. They are a tough mob. Don’t kid yourself you could protect her. They would bust in here when you weren’t expecting them and give it to her and take care of you. I either get the tapes right now or within twelve hours your wife will be blind and her flesh will be burned off her face. What’s it to be?’
I felt Nina’s fingers gripping my arm. We both stared at the bubbling, hissing liquid on the table. I looked at O’Reilly. The expression in those small grey eyes convinced me he wasn’t bluffing. He would do this thing. It wasn’t possible for me to protect Nina.
I was licked, and I knew it.
I stood up.
‘Okay, let’s go.’
Nina caught hold of my arm.
‘No! You’re not to! He wouldn’t dare do it! Harry, please…’
I shook her off.
‘This is my mess — not yours.’
I went to the door while she sat motionless, wide-eyed, staring at me.
O’Reilly got to his feet.
‘He’s right, baby. You keep quiet. Watch out how you clear up that mess. You don’t want to burn your pretty hands.’
‘Harry!’ Nina exclaimed, jumping up. ‘Don’t do it! Don’t let him have them!’
I went out of the bungalow and down to the car with O’Reilly following me. He got in the car beside me.
‘Tough luck, sucker,’ he said, ‘but you should keep your trap shut. Now you’re right on your own.
How’s Renick getting on? Hasn’t he got onto you yet?’
‘Not yet.’ I pulled away from the kerb. I hated this man with a cold vicious fury that almost stifled me. I realised too late how stupid I had been to have taunted Rhea with the threat of the tapes. Once I had parted with them, as O’Reilly had said, I was on my own. It would be my word against hers, and she could afford to hire the best attorney in the country to make mincemeat of my story.
‘When you’re picked up, sucker,’ O’Reilly said, ‘don’t try to involve Rhea nor me. We both have cast iron alibis.’
‘That’s nice for you,’ I said.
We looked at each other. There was a puzzled expression in his eyes.
‘You’re a pretty cool punk considering the jam you’re in,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think you had so much nerve.’
‘I walked into this mess,’ I said, ‘and I’m prepared to take what is coming to me. Everything looks perfect right now, but you’re going to come unstuck because you don’t know a damn thing about women.’
That hit him. He twisted around to stare at me.
‘What the hell do you mean?’
‘You’ll find out. I’ve been a newspaper man for years. I’ve had plenty of experience with show girls.
I know their mentality. This I do know: Rhea Malroux isn’t planning to spend the rest of her days with an Irish roughneck. You’re not kidding yourself you’re anything better than an Irish ex-cop with as much polish as a sheet of sandpaper, are you? When Malroux dies and she comes into the money, she’ll suddenly lose interest in you. You’ll find you’ll be eased out. She’ll know how to do it. You won’t realise what’s happening until you are just another ex-cop in search of another job.’
‘Yeah? Is that what you think?’ His thin lips moved into a grin, but there was no grin in his eyes.
‘Don’t kid yourself, sucker. Long after you have ceased to exist me and Rhea’ll be married.’
I managed a laugh.
‘That’s about the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.’ I swung the car to the kerb outside my bank. The time was now three minutes to two. The bank doors were still shut. ‘You really imagine a woman like Rhea would marry an Irish roughneck like you? Well, maybe I’m a sucker, but I’m not the only one.’
‘You shut your trap unless you want me to shut it for you,’ he snarled, his fleshy face turning red.
‘Sure. I won’t say another word if you’re that sensitive,’ I said, paused, then went on, ‘But I know what I’d do if I was in the fix you’re in.’
He eyed me.
‘Yeah? So what would you do?’
I felt a quickening of excitement. I had got him going. I felt it.
‘I’d make damn sure Rhea couldn’t throw me out. I’d make sure I was the boss from now on…’
He sat motionless. I could almost hear his brain creak as he thought, then suddenly he smiled.
‘I’m sorry for you, punk,’ he said. ‘You’re so stupid it isn’t true.’
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘so I’m stupid.’ A clerk opened the bank doors.
‘But I’ll tell you something,’ I went on. ‘Don’t bet on anything from now on. I’ll fix you if I can.
Rhea will fix you for sure. You’ll be a bigger suck than I am, but I won’t be sorry for you.’
He got out of the car. ‘Come on, punk. Give your mouth a rest. I want those tapes.’
We went into the bank and I got the tapes. I gave them to him — there was nothing else I could do.
‘Don’t lose them,’ I said as he took the two packets. ‘They are now as important to you as they were to me.’
‘You don’t have to tell me a thing,’ he said and walked out of the bank, a worried, tense expression on his fleshy handsome face.
II
I got back to my office at ten minutes after two. There was a note on my desk, saying Renick wanted to see me as soon as I got back.
This could mean anything — more discoveries — anything. It could even mean he knew now I was the man in the brown sports suit. But I was beyond caring. I had taken my beating and I was now punch drunk. I knew once Renick caught up with me I was cooked. I had no recorded evidence to support my story. Odette’s murder could be pinned on me without the slightest trouble.
If I were going to save myself I had to prove somehow that O’Reilly had murdered Odette. I felt pretty sure I had planted the seed of doubt in his mind that Rhea wasn’t to be trusted. He wasn’t likely to destroy those two tapes: they represented his only hold on her. So long as they remained in existence, I still had a chance of beating this thing.
I knew Nina must be waiting anxiously for news so I telephoned her.
We were using a line that went through the switchboard so I was careful what I said.
‘He’s got them,’ I said. ‘There was no other way. Don’t say anything. Let me do the talking. It’s not as bad as it could be. We’ll talk about it when I come back. As soon as I can get away from here, I’ll be right back.’
‘All right, Harry.’
The shake in her voice made me feel bad.
‘Don’t worry, darling. I’ll fix it somehow,’ and I hung up.
It was twenty minutes after two when I pushed open Renick’s door and walked into his office.