Carmady shook his head again. «But I didn’t shoot him, Conant.»
«Try and prove it … The wop ran over and found Shenvair halfway up the stairs, dead. He dragged him up and stuck him in the bathtub. Some crazy idea about the blood, I suppose. Then he went through him, found a police card, a private-dick license, and that scared him. He got me on the phone and when I got the name, I came steaming.»
Conant stopped talking, eyed Carmady steadily. Carmady said very softly: «You hear about the shooting at Cyrano’s tonight?»
Conant nodded.
Carmady went on: «I was there, with a kid friend of mine from the hotel. Just before the shooting this Shenvair threw a punch at me. The kid followed Shenvair here and they shot each other. Shenvair was drunk and scared and I’ll bet he shot first. I didn’t even know the kid had a gun. Shenvair shot him through the stomach. He got home, died there. He left me a note. I have the note.»
After a moment Conant said: «You killed Shenvair, or hired that boy to do it. Here’s why. He tried to copper his bet on your blackmail racket. He sold out to Courtway.»
Carmady looked startled. He snapped his head around to look at Jean Adrian. She was leaning forward staring at him with color in her cheeks, a shine in her eyes. She said very softly: «I’m sorry — angel. I had you wrong.»
Carmady smiled a little, turned back to Conant. He said: «She thought I was the one that sold out. Who’s Courtway? Your bird dog, the state senator?»
Conant’s face turned a little white. He laid his cigarette down very carefully in the saucer, leaned across the table and hit Carmady in the mouth with his fist. Carmady went over backwards in the rickety chair. His head struck the floor.
Jean Adrian stood up quietly and her teeth made a sharp clicking sound. Then she didn’t move.
Carmady rolled over on his side and got up and set the chair upright. He got a handkerchief out, patted his mouth, looked at the handkerchief.
Steps clattered on the stairs and the albino poked his narrow head into the room, poked a gun still farther in.
«Need any help, boss?»
Without looking at him, Conant said: «Get out — and shut that door — and stay out!»
The door was shut. The albino’s steps died down the stairs. Carmady put his left hand on the back of the chair and moved it slowly back and forth. His right hand still held the handkerchief. His lips were getting puffed and darkish. His eyes looked at the Luger by Conant’s elbow.
Conant picked up his cigarette and put it in his mouth. He said: «Maybe you think I’m going to neck this blackmail racket. I’m not, brother. I’m going to kill it — so it’ll stay killed. You’re going to spill your guts. I have three boys downstairs who need exercise. Get busy and talk.»
Carmady said: «Yeah — but your three boys are downstairs.» He slipped the handkerchief inside his coat. His hand came out with the blued gun in it. He said: «Take that Luger by the barrel and push it across the table so I can reach it.»
Conant didn’t move. His eyes narrowed to slits. His hard mouth jerked the cigarette in it once. He didn’t touch the Luger. After a moment he said: «Guess you know what will happen to you now.»
Carmady shook his head slightly. He said: «Maybe I’m not particular about that. If it does happen, you won’t know anything about it.»
Conant stared at him, didn’t move. He stared at him for quite a long time, stared at the blue gun. «Where did you get it? Didn’t the heels frisk you?»
Carmady said: «They did. This is Shenvair’s gun. Your wop friend must have kicked it behind the bathtub. Careless.»
Conant reached two thick fingers forward and turned the Luger around and pushed it to the far edge of the table. He nodded and said tonelessly: «I lose this hand. I ought to have thought of that. That makes me do the talking.»
Jean Adrian came quickly across the room and stood at the end of the table. Carmady reached forward across the chair and took the Luger in his left hand and slipped it down into his overcoat pocket, kept his hand on it. He rested the hand holding the blue gun on the top of the chair.
Jean Adrian said: «Who is this man?»
«Doll Conant, a local bigtimer. Senator John Myerson Courtway is his pipe line into the state senate. And Senator Courtway, angel, is the man in your photo frame on your desk. The man you said was your father, that you said was dead.»
The girl said very quietly: «He is my father. I knew he wasn’t dead. I’m blackmailing him — for a hundred grand. Shenvair and Targo and I. He never married my mother, so I’m illegitimate. But I’m still his child. I have rights and he won’t recognize them. He treated my mother abominably, left her without a nickel. He had detectives watch me for years. Shenvair was one of them. He recognized my photos when I came here and met Targo. He remembered. He went up to San Francisco and got a copy of my birth certificate. I have it here.»
She fumbled at her bag, felt around in it, opened a small zipper pocket in the lining. Her hand came out with a folded paper. She tossed it on the table.
Conant stared at her, reached a hand for the paper, spread it out and studied it. He said slowly: «This doesn’t prove anything.»
Carmady took his left hand out of his pocket and reached for the paper. Conant pushed it towards him.
It was a certified copy of a birth certificate, dated originally in 1912. It recorded the birth of a girl child, Adriana Gianni Myerson, to John and Antonina Gianni Myerson. Carmady dropped the paper again.
He said: «Adriana Gianni — Jean Adrian. Was that the tipoff, Conant?»
Conant shook his head. «Shenvair got cold feet. He tipped Courtway. He was scared. That’s why he had this hideout lined up. I thought that was why he got killed. Targo couldn’t have done it, because Targo’s still in the can. Maybe I had you wrong, Carmady.»
Carmady stared at him woodenly, didn’t say anything. Jean Adrian said: «It’s my fault. I’m the one that’s to blame. It was pretty rotten. I see that now. I want to see him and tell him I’m sorry and that he’ll never hear from me again. I want to make him promise he won’t do anything to Duke Targo. May I?»
Carmady said: «You can do anything you want to, angel. I have two guns that say so. But why did you wait so long? And why didn’t you go at him through the courts? You re in show business. The publicity would have made you — even if he beat you out.»
The girl bit her lip, said in a low voice: «My mother never really knew who he was, never knew his last name even. He was John Myerson to her. I didn’t know until I came here and happened to see a picture in the local paper. He had changed, but I knew the face. And of course the first part of his name —»
Conant said sneeringly: «You didn’t go at him openly because you knew damn well you weren’t his kid. That your mother just wished you on to him like any cheap broad who sees herself out of a swell meal ticket. Courtway says he can prove it, and that he’s going to prove it and put you where you belong. And believe me, sister, he’s just the stiff-necked kind of sap who would kill himself in public life raking up a twenty-year-old scandal to do that little thing.»
The big man spit his cigarette stub out viciously, added: «It cost me money to put him where he is and I aim to keep him there. That’s why I’m in it. No dice, sister. I’m putting the pressure on. You’re going to take a lot of air and keep on taking it. As for your two-gun friend — maybe he didn’t know, but he knows now and that ties him up in the same package.»