“Well, what about him?”
Johnny pointed to the private office. “Hammer, that’s who I want to see. In fact—” He suddenly shoved open the wooden gate and strode toward Hammer’s private office. The receptionist let out a scream, but Johnny paid no heed. He slammed open Hammer’s door and found Mr. Hammer whipping open the right-hand top desk drawer.
Mr. Hammer was a squat, bald man who perspired copiously. He kept his hand in the top drawer. “What do you mean, bustin’ in like that?” he snapped.
“You’ve got a man named Kilkenny working for you.”
“Have I?”
“If you haven’t, then I’ve given money to a crook.”
Hammer’s attitude changed. He actually raised his right hand out of the desk drawer, although he kept it near. “You paid money to Kilkenny? On an account? Your name, please?”
“I told the girl — Sam Cragg.”
Hammer went quickly over a file of cards and extracted one. “Sam Cragg, ah yes, Ajax Mandolin Company. You say you paid Mr. Kilkenny on this account? How much?”
“What does it say there?”
“It doesn’t say anything. Mr. Kilkenny gave you a receipt, of course?”
“He gave me nothing.”
“Then I’m sorry, Mr. Cragg. Our collectors are instructed to give receipts at all times. If you cannot produce one, I’m afraid the account still stands. And since this is long delinquent, I must insist upon prompt payment.”
“Go ahead, insist. But I want to talk to J. J. Kilkenny.”
“The matter is out of Mr. Kilkenny’s hands. I’m handling this and I want payment at once, or else...”
“Or else, what?”
“Or else I shall start immediate suit. Hey — wait a moment, here’s a notation from J.J. Ah, yes, this alters things considerably. It seems, Mr. Cragg, that you pawned this instrument.” Mr. Hammer beamed happily. “That, sir, is where you made your mistake. Selling property you did not own takes it out of the civil court and puts it into the criminal. Yes, Mr. Cragg, you’ve overstepped yourself. You will pay this bill — at once, sir — or I shall clap you into jail. What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s a lot of hooey,” snapped Johnny. “Look, I haven’t got time to shilly-shally around with you. I want to see Kilkenny, that’s all.”
Mr. Hammer made an impatient gesture of dismissal. “Mr. Kilkenny is out of this, Mr. Cragg. It’s no concern of his. But you, sir, are in serious trouble. I hope you are prepared to pay.”
“I’m not prepared to pay anything!”
“In that case — Miss Trout!” Hammer rose swiftly to his feet. “A policeman...”
“Cut the comedy,” snarled Johnny. “All I want from you is the whereabouts of J.J. Kilkenny.”
“And all I want from you is sixty-seven dollars!” Miss Trout appeared in the doorway. “Telephone for a policeman, Miss Trout.”
“Yes, Mr. Hammer!” The girl turned and headed for the phone on her desk.
Johnny stepped to the door. “Put down that phone!”
“Oh-ho!” cried Mr. Hammer. He whipped back to the desk drawer and drew out a short snub-nosed revolver. “Violence, Mr. Cragg? All the more reason to call the police. Miss Trout—”
“Hold it,” said Johnny. “Let’s talk this over quietly.”
“We’ve talked, Mr. Cragg. Sixty-seven dollars, or the police.”
Miss Trout was already dialing. Desperately, Johnny cried, “I’ll pay!”
“Just a moment, Miss Trout,” called Hammer. “But stand by. Very well, Mr. Cragg, let’s see the color of your money.”
“First of all,” said Johnny, “my name isn’t Sam Cragg.”
“Oh, we’re going to try that now, are we? Very well, Miss Trout, you may phone.”
Miss Trout began dialing once more.
“I’ll pay!” cried Johnny. He brought out a handful of bills.
“Wait, Miss Trout,” ordered Mr. Hammer.
Miss Trout waited with her hand on the phone. Johnny counted out sixty-seven dollars and put the rest of the money back in his pocket, carelessly revealing that one packet of bills consisted of hundreds. Mr. Hammer noted it greedily.
“Put the money on the desk, Mr. Cragg.”
Johnny held it in his hand. “Here’s the money, now let’s talk. Your Mr. Kilkenny is involved in the Jess Carmichael murder.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“Alice Cummings,” Johnny said, pointing to the file cards. “Look it up — you collected money from her yesterday. Miss Cummings happens to be the little lady in whose apartment Jess Carmichael was murdered. And your Mr. Kilkenny just happens to be in it up to his fat ears.”
The collection agent smiled thinly, but there was vague uncertainty in his eyes.
“None of this will do you any good.”
“All right,” said Johnny grimly. “Look at your cards — I dare you. If Miss Cummings’s name isn’t on one of them, I’ll be willing to give you a hundred dollars.”
Hammer hesitated, then reached for the cards. “I’ll just prove to you that you’re...” His fingers ran over the cards, stopped. His eyes narrowed and he shot a quick covert look at Johnny. Then he drew out the card.
“Just who are you, Mr. Cragg?” he asked slowly.
“First of all, I’m not Sam Cragg,” Johnny said quickly, “and you’ll find the card — Miss Cummings paid up in full.”
“Fifty-two dollars.” Hammer’s forehead creased. “It was accepted in full payment. Alice Cummings, mm.” Hammer mused thoughtfully. “It is the same name, but there could be two women—”
“Uh-uh, there couldn’t. How would I have known of her?”
“That’s a point. Oh, you could have known about Alice Cummings, all right; her name is in all the papers since yesterday, but you couldn’t have known that our Mr. Kilkenny collected money from her yesterday.”
The door of the outer office opened and J.J. Kilkenny came in. Johnny’s back was turned to the door, however. He said to Mr. Hammer, “Kilkenny’s in it up to his ears. The least you can say about him is that he’s a crook, but to me it looks like he’s worse...”
Kilkenny crossed the short distance from the outer door to the inner and lunged into the room. His big hands reached out and grabbed Johnny. “What’d you call me, you little pipsqueak?”
He whirled Johnny with his left hand and with the open palm of his right, rocked his head to the left, then to the right. Johnny, gasping in pain, hit the big man in the stomach with his fist and only bruised his knuckles.
Mr. Hammer saved him. He was half Kilkenny’s size, but he was Kilkenny’s boss. He said coldly, “That’ll do, J.J.!”
Kilkenny released Fletcher, but he was not soothed, by any means. “You and me are gonna have this out.”
“You lay a hand on me again,” Johnny said savagely, “and I’ll cut you to pieces.”
Kilkenny’s big right hand reached automatically for Johnny, but the latter stepped back nimbly.
“Here, now,” Mr. Hammer said authoritatively. “Let’s get this straightened out. J.J., Mr. Cragg’s made some serious charges against you.”
“Cragg?” exclaimed Kilkenny. “This ain’t Cragg. He’s Fletcher, Sam Cragg’s keeper.”
“Keeper?”
“Cragg’s an ape, a muscle-bound gorilla. He can’t talk unless this fellow tells him what to say.”
“I’ll repeat that to Sam,” Johnny warned.
“You do. I’m itchin’ to go another round with the ape and next time he may not be so lucky.”
“I’ve got news for you,” Johnny said. “Sam can throw you all night long.”
“Now, wait a minute, you two,” interrupted Hammer. “What’s this all about? You... you announced yourself as Sam Cragg, now it turns out your name isn’t Cragg.”
“I never told you my name was Cragg,” Johnny retorted.