VII
There was a long silence while emotion built up in the room like an electric charge in a battery. Mike Shayne could feel it. He could see it in their faces.
“He never told me!” Sally Comfort said. “I swear to God he never said anything about killing Rocky.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Mike Shayne said. “I knocked him out so he couldn’t point the rest of his gang to me. I knocked him out and somebody must have found him there and cut his throat — that is, if his throat was cut. I don’t use a knife.”
“Oh, sure,” Reilly said. “You didn’t cut Harry Comfort’s throat and you didn’t cut Rocky’s. You don’t even use a knife to cut meat.”
Baldoni said, “It looks like we’re going to have to kill you after all, Shayne. Even if there isn’t any twenty thousand dollars to cut up, we’re going to have to kill you anyhow. We can’t have you cutting throats all around like that. We can’t.”
They looked at each other across the table. Shayne held the gun rock steady. For the moment, the gun was checkmate — but he could feel the charge build up. These were reckless and emotion-packed men with violence in their blood.
When the charge built up past a point of no return, they’d be at his throat like wolves. They were probably armed — and they were four to one — even if Sally Comfort stayed neutral.
Sally was beside him — on his side of the table where he couldn’t watch her and the men too.
“This is stupid,” Shayne said. “If I was the sort of man you think, you would have just committed suicide talking that way. I have six shots in this gun and only four of you to put down. I can’t miss.”
They thought about that and some of the rage in their faces changed to fear.
As long as Shayne could keep on top of the situation, there was a chance he could get out of the room without open violence. Either that, or he’d have to kill some of these men. Shayne was capable of killing if he had to — but he was not the man to enjoy it. For him, killing was a last resort, to be used only after every other alternative had been tried and failed.
He took a chance now — a calculated risk designed both to save Sally Comfort’s “face” with the rider captains and to get them both out of the room without a battle.
“You can think what you want,” he told the men, “as long as you stop with thinking it. Make a move, and I’ll kill the lot of you.”
He could see that they got the point. There was hatred in their eyes, but the fear was gaining.
“I’m leaving here right now,” Shayne said. “I’m taking the lady with me just so nobody will get any bright ideas about chasing us. Try that, and she’ll be dead.
“You stay right here for half an hour. After that you can do as you please. You can even try chasing me if any one of you is crazy enough. But remember this, though — I can take you and any of your men, and I will if I have to.
“You pass the word around to leave Mike Shayne alone. There’s no reward for the man who catches up with me. There’s nothing but a bullet in the gut, and that I can guarantee the lot of you. Just stay clear of me and let whoever started the story about that twenty grand contract come and try to make the hit for himself.”
He hoped they heard him. Even more that they would believe what they heard — enough to sit tight.
Shayne made a show of putting his gun to Sally Comfort’s back as the two of them left the conference room.
Inside his head, there was still a question mark. If it had come to a shootout, whose side would the beautiful girl have actually been on? It had better have been his, or he’d have been a dead duck with her gun behind him.
Now, he supposed that he’d never know.
Anyway, she came along quietly. While they were in the room, she gave no sign of being anything but an unwilling victim.
They had one close call in the parking lot. A couple of County Sheriff’s deputies had just parked their car and were headed for the kitchen door to pick up a couple of steaks “on the house.”
Shayne put his arm around Sally’s shoulder and bent down as if whispering in her ear. It hid his face, but it probably wasn’t needed. The two deputies paid them no attention at all. Their minds were on other things.
Shayne got his car out of the lot and into the highway traffic without being noticed.
“Who’s the old man?” he asked Sally.
“Who?”
“The old man that Baldoni referred to back in the room there. The one he said would know about the contract if anybody would.”
“Oh!” she said. “I’d forgotten. He’s the one who fences most of the stuff the gangs steal — when they do stage a ripoff. He Shylocks for them, too, when they need money. Loans at very high rates.”
“I see,” Shayne said. “If something goes on, he’s the one who knows.”
“Exactly. If anything happens, somebody’s bound to mention it. The riders are in and out of his place all the time. It’s a neutral ground when two gangs are at war with each other. They both need him, so they keep his place safe for all.”
“Just the man I want to see,” Shayne said. “Who is he, and where is this place of his?”
“His name is Simon Kane,” Sally said, “though nobody ever calls him anything but the Old Man. He has a garage and bike sales agency out in the northwest section and a home not far from that. His biggest ripoff though is fencing and loan sharking for the gangs. That’s where his influence comes from, where he really makes his money.”
“I want to see him,” Mike Shayne said.
She looked up at him. “Did you ever consider he might be the one that put the contract out on you?”
“I consider everything,” Shayne said. “I don’t think that’s the man though.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t think of a single reason why he should have done it. Nobody puts up that kind of money without a motive, and I can’t think of a motive Kane could have. I never crossed his trail before — let alone did anything serious enough to make him want to kill me. Killing is serious. Your brother’s bike-riding pals might not think so, but anyone with twenty thousand dollars to spend does. That sort doesn’t put out a contract without a reason. What reason does the Old Man have?”
“I don’t know,” Sally said, “but on the other hand, can you give me a motive for anybody else tonight? You can’t. The motive is as secret as the man, so you can’t really rule out the Old Man. Besides, who’d be more likely to put the cycle riders onto you?”
Shayne didn’t agree with her line of reasoning. Anyone as close to the bike riders as Simon Kane, had to be the last man to use them to do a killing for him. It would just bring the police into his own private and profitable preserve.
He’d be much more likely to give an out-of-town hit man a thousand dollars to shoot Shayne in the back without fuss or publicity.
However, the big detective didn’t argue with Sally Comfort. He stuck to his original point.
“I want to see him anyway — and that’s where we’re going.”
“Not unless I call him first,” Sally Comfort said. “His place will be full of bike riders — and by now they’ll be ready to shoot on sight anybody who even looks like you. The killing of Rocky will have them all as dangerous as so many mad dogs. Your only chance to see the Old Man will be with some sort of safe conduct.”
“What makes you think you can get me any kind of safe conduct?” he asked.
She said, “The same way I got you in to see the captains back there. Fm known as Harry’s sister. I never really rode with his people, but I’ve met most of them. I’ve gone to see the Old Man with Harry.”