‘Then it goes to the Green Dragon and Gatt breaks it down into pellets?’ She didn’t answer. I shook her arm vigorously. ‘Doesn’t he?’
‘Yes!’ she squealed. ‘Stop it, you’re hurting me!’
‘I’m only just starting if you don’t answer the questions quickly,’ I told her. ‘Johnny Brent was the contact between Gatt and the carnival ground?’ She nodded.
‘Two main sources – two avenues,’ I said. ‘One through the Harem Girls’ Hall and the other through you?’
‘Yes, damn you!’ she said sullenly.
‘That’s why the people stayed here even though they weren’t making any dough through legitimate carnival?’
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘What about the honest ones?’
‘Cielli paid them two hundred bucks a week to stay – Johnny Brent made the payments,’ she said.
‘What was the idea of that?’ I asked her.
She took a deep breath. ‘Because if the carnival ground had been half empty, even the cops would have been interested to know why the other half stayed on. We had to keep them all here.’
‘You weren’t frightened they might talk?’
‘When they were getting two hundred bucks a week for nothing?’ she sneered. ‘Don’t be stupid!’
I gave her another shake to mend her manners.
‘What happened? You got ambitious?’
‘We knew the whole set-up,’ she said. ‘There were too many in it. Gatt was all right, but Cielli took too big a cut for himself – and we could distribute Tyson’s lot as well as our own.’
‘Then I came along?’
‘Then you came along,’ she agreed. ‘When you told me what you were looking for, I thought it was too good a chance to miss. So we coached that actress and she did a good job – sold you on it completely. We figured that the more you went around asking about Johnny Brent, the more worried Cielli and the rest of them would be. They’d start to distrust each other – particularly Johnny. That way, it would be much easier for us when the time came to take over.’
‘You were doing all the work for us. You were taking all the risks. We gave the actress those clues to give to you. You aren’t too bad a private eye,’ she said reluctantly, ‘so we knew you’d keep adding it up and eventually come up with the right answer. By that time they would either knock you off or we’d have to – it didn’t matter much.’
I resisted an impulse. ‘What about Johnny? He was killed because he was going to tell me that he never had a wife. Is that right?’
‘That’s right,’ she agreed.
‘Who killed him?’
‘Why, Mr Kaufman,’ Mollo said smoothly, ‘that’s a question easily answered – I did!’ I looked down the barrel of the automatic he was holding firmly in his right hand.
He glanced quickly at his watch. ‘Ivy, my dear,’ he said, ‘it’s nearly time for the next show.’
‘You can’t put it on now,’ she protested.
‘We must,’ he said, ‘it’s one of the specials’ He smiled at me. ‘For your information, it’s at special shows that we sell the stuff. Done up in popcorn packets, with some genuine popcorn on the tray for those who really want it.’
Ivy looked at him sourly. ‘That’s all right,’ she said, ‘but what are you going to do with big-eyes?’ She pointed her thumb at me.
Mollo looked at me coldly, ‘You may realise that I have a silencer on this gun,’ he said. ‘You will do exactly as I say. First, give me the gun I can see bulging in your pocket.’
I gave it to him. ‘Now get in there,’ he said, ‘quickly!’ He pointed to a wooden box mounted on a stool. I got into it awkwardly. My head protruded from one end and my feet from the other. He screwed down the lid tightly and I was helpless. ‘One yelp and it is the last!’ he said.
The curtains were pulled aside and there was a scattered burst of applause. I imagined that the applause was for Mollo, the dope-peddler, not Mollo, the magician.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Mollo said solemnly, ‘on special nights I do the most dangerous of all magicians’ wonders. On special nights I saw someone in half.’ He paused for a moment. ‘This is a most difficult and dangerous thing to do. My female assistant has been through the ordeal before and, frankly, her nerve has failed her. I cannot blame her. But tonight,’ he raised his voice slightly, ‘tonight, a very good friend of mine has volunteered to help me out!’ He slapped the box briskly and grinned down at me. ‘My good friend Rex has the highest confidence in my ability!’
He produced a gigantic saw and measured the line with his eye carefully, then made the first cut. There was absolute silence in the tent – except for the rasp of the saw as it started to cut through the cabinet. I began to feel very hot. The saw rasping through the wood set my whole nervous system on edge.
Mollo made the final cut and stepped back.
‘Perhaps, ladies and gentlemen,’ his eyebrows had an ironic twist, ‘perhaps you do not believe that Rex has been sawn in half?’ Then he grabbed the box close to where my head stuck out and swung it inward suddenly. The audience gasped.
I realised that only half the box had swung. The other half with the other half of me in it was still resting in its original position. The ceiling swam crazily and then everything went black.
I was left in the cabinet for what seemed an eternity of time, but was probably no longer than half an hour. Then Mollo’s face leaned over.
‘I’m going to let you out, Kaufman,’ he said, ‘but take it easy – your life isn’t worth a dime at the moment so don’t try crowding your luck!’
Mollo unscrewed the lid and I climbed out, stiff and bruised. He had me covered with a gun in his hand. He gestured towards the steps. ‘We are going out the front way, Kaufman, into my car. Don’t try any tricks!’
Ivy walked up the steps onto the stage and as she reached the top step, someone stepped through the curtains and thrust a gun at her. At the same time I heard a thud behind me. I turned around and saw Mollo slumping to the ground.
Ivy walked backwards a couple of paces and Cielli stepped through the curtains. ‘Why, Mr Kaufman,’ he smiled pleasantly, ‘this is a nice surprise!’
CHAPTER SIX
Katherine’s living room looked almost crowded. I sat on the sofa with Mollo one side of me and Ivy the other. Tyson stood with a gun in his hand, just behind us. To one side, Katherine sat. Gatt sat facing us, patting his face with a perfumed handkerchief.
Cielli stood easily in the centre of the room, smoking a cigarette and enjoying it. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘now we’re all together, who would like to tell the story?’
Mollo glared at him malevolently. ‘I should have thought of you before Brent!’ he snarled.
‘Perhaps you should,’ Cielli agreed, ‘but then, it’s a little late now, don’t you think?’ Mollo relapsed into silence.
‘It’s the usual story of a tribe of rats,’ I said to Cielli. ‘They all try and double-cross each other!’
‘I think we know the story,’ Cielli said. ‘The problem is, what to do about it? We’ve got to lay off for a while – that’s obvious. There wasn’t any stuff on board that launch, but if they have a close look at it, they might wonder why it has the engine it has – and so on. They might also wonder why no one has come forward to claim it. I took the precaution of registering it in Brent’s name, so we’re fairly safe there.’
I wondered who he was talking to – Tyson? Tyson was the only one on his side. ‘Yes,’ Cielli went on, ‘the problem is what to do about the organisation. I feel it is hopeless. We can’t hope to go on in the same way. So much has got to be done that will cause unpleasantness. The police will be very active for quite a while.’
‘Why don’t you come to the point, Cielli?’ Mollo snarled.