Kells nodded without speaking, without looking at him.
Hesse laughed, a high dry cackle.
MacAlmon glanced at Crotti then stopped his pacing, spoke to Kells: “She is here!” He raised his eyes to the balcony that ran across half of one side of the room. He called: “Shorty.”
One of the three doors on the balcony opened and a squat overdressed Filipino came out and leaned on the balustrade. He tipped his bright green velour hat to the back of his head, stared coldly, expressionlessly at MacAlmon.
MacAlmon said: “Bring her down.”
The Filipino went back into the room and then came into the doorway with Granquist.
Her hair was loose, hung in straw-colored and angular disorder over her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, unseeing. A white silk handkerchief had been stuffed into her mouth, and her hands were knotted behind her back.
Kells said: “Take that goddamned gag out of her mouth.” He spoke almost without moving his lips.
Beery stood up.
“I am very sorry.” Crotti spoke sidewise to Kells. “She raised a lot of hell...” He nodded to the Filipino.
The Filipino reached up delicately and flicked the handkerchief out of her mouth by one corner. She caught her breath sharply; her eyes rolled up whitely for a second and then she closed them and swayed sideways with one hip against the balustrade.
Kells stood up slowly.
Crotti said: “Sit down.”
Granquist opened her eyes and turned her head slowly and looked down at Kells. She opened her mouth a little and tried to speak. Then the Filipino took her arm and guided her down the stair, to a low chair between Kells and Crotti. She sank down into it, and the Filipino took a small knife out of his pocket and reached behind her and cut the twisted cord that held her hands. She leaned back and put her hands up to her face.
MacAlmon walked to the door and back.
Crotti asked: “How do you feel, sister?”
Granquist didn’t move or show in any way that she had heard.
Kells sat down in the big chair, and Beery sat down again on the edge of the table.
Kells took a thin black card case out of his pocket and took out a card and spoke over his shoulder to Beery: “Got a pencil?”
MacAlmon had come back from the door and was standing near Kells. He took a silver pencil out of his vest pocket, handed it to him. Hesse got up and went out into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and put it down on the arm of Granquist’s chair. He tapped her shoulder, smiled down at her. She took her hands away from her face for a moment and stared blankly up at him, then she put her hands back over her eyes.
“How many men have you got outside?” Kells glanced at Crotti.
Crotti wasn’t smiling any more. His wide-set eyes were very serious.
He said: “Two — one car.” He took a dark green cigar out of his breast pocket, bit off the end, lighted it.
Kells was watching him, smiling faintly. Crotti looked up from lighting his cigar, nodded slowly, emphatically.
Hesse said: “I’ve got just my chauffeur — he is waiting...”
Kells put the card down on the arm of his chair, scribbled something on it. He said: “You can send Carl, here” — he jerked his head towards the slight nervous man — “and whoever’s outside after the dough. Beery will go along and tell ’em where to go.” He was looking at Carl. “When you’re paid off, Beery will call us here and you can okay it for your boss.” He nodded at Crotti.
Crotti was smiling again. He said: “All right.”
Carl got up and came over and picked up the card. Beery was at the telephone; he made a note of the number.
Kells went on: “Maybe the spick had better go along too.”
The Filipino looked at him coldly. Crotti shook his head. Kells grinned, shrugged.
He said: “I’ll see you later, Shep.”
Beery nodded and put on his hat, went to the door with Carl. They went out.
Kells called to Beery as he was closing the door: “Tell that cab driver to sit on it — we’ll be out in a little while.”
MacAlmon went to a wall switch, snapped on several more lights. Then he went over and lay down on a wide divan under the big front windows. The drapes were tightly drawn.
Kells glanced at the tall clock in one corner. It was seven-fifty.
Hesse had taken MacAlmon’s place at pacing up and down the floor.
Kells got up and limped to Granquist’s chair, sat down on one arm of it and leaned close to her with his hand on her shoulder.
She whispered, “Gerry — I’m so sorry,” without looking at him.
“Shut up, baby.” He smiled down at her and pushed her hands gently down from her face.
“How’s your leg?”
He said: “Swell.” He patted his leg gingerly with one hand.
She moved her head over against his side. “It happened so damned quick,” she said — “I mean quickly. They pulled up alongside of us and two of them got into the cab and stuck a rod into the driver and me and we came out here. Borg jumped out as soon as he saw them and ran down First Street — the car they came up in went after him...”
Kells said: “He got away — he was waiting for us outside the station. He’s got the hundred and fifteen down at a little hotel on Melrose. That’s where Shep’s taking Crotti’s boys...”
Granquist sighed, whispered: “That’s a lot of money.”
Kells shook his head slowly. “That’s the first really illegitimate pass we’ve made — maybe we didn’t deserve it.” He rubbed his forehead violently. “What happened to the cab with our stuff in it?”
“It’s out in the driveway. They sapped the driver — he’s upstairs sleeping it off.”
They were silent a little while and then Kells said: “We forgot to send back the car we rented from the Miramar — remind me to do that as soon as we can.”
“Uh-huh.” Granquist’s voice was muffled. Her face was close against his side.
Kells got up and went into the kitchen. He tried the back door but it was locked and there was no key in it. When he came back, Crotti had straightened around at the desk, was bent over it reading a paper.
Kells asked: “How’s the fella my fat friend popped this afternoon?”
Crotti turned his head, nodded. “He’s all right.”
The phone rang and Kells answered it.
MacAlmon swung up to sit on the edge of the divan. Crotti turned slowly in his chair towards Kells. Hesse stopped near the door. The Filipino was tilted back in a chair near the stairway that led up to the balcony and the rooms upstairs. His hat was pulled down over his eyes and he did not move.
Kells said, “Yes, Shep,” into the telephone: He listened a little while and his face was cold and hard, his eyes were heavy. Then he said, ‘All right,” and hung up the receiver.
He spoke, more to Granquist than to any of the rest of them: “Borg’s gone.”
Granquist leaned forward slowly. Hesse said: “Who is Borg?”
“The guy who’s got your hundred and fifty grand.” Kells smiled slowly at Hesse.Then he glanced at the Filipino and there was a black automatic in the Filipino’s hand. He was still tilted back against the wall and his hat almost covered his eyes.
Crotti stood up. He moved a little towards Kells and then he stood very straight and stared at Kells and the muscles of his deeply lined white face twitched a little. He shook his head almost imperceptibly towards the Filipino.
He said slowly: “No — I will do it myself, Shorty,” like they do in the movies.
He put his hand to his side, under the arm, under his coat, and took out a curiously shaped German revolver. He held it down straight at his side for a moment and then he raised it towards Kells. He raised it as if he would like to be raising it very slowly and deliberately, but couldn’t; he raised it very swiftly.