They got downstairs without being seen, and the cab was so close to the entrance that it was easy to lift Allen inside without the man in the street noticing. Rollison climbed in and Sam slammed the door. Perky started the engine and drove away at moderate speed.
Allen’s head lolled back against the corner but he began to regain consciousness before they had reached Edgware Road. He blinked dazedly, sat upright and moistened his lips, then rubbed his jaw, which was already showing signs of swelling. He worked his mouth about slowly, but by then, there was an intelligent gleam in his “ Allison would not have been surprised had he tried to get out of the cab when they slowed down at a traffic jam. Instead, he looked at Rollison with sullen hostility.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To some friends,” said Rollison. “If you’ve any sense you’ll stay there, and you’ll be all right. Aren’t you tired of being Aunt Sally for Blane and his mob to knock down?”
“He’s not the only one who throws his weight about,” Allen growled. “Barbara shouldn’t—my wife shouldn’t be left alone at the flat,” he said. “It’s too big a strain on her.”
“So you have flashes of sanity,” said Rollison.
Allen drew in his breath—and then suddenly turned his face away. He gritted his teeth, as if to prevent himself from breaking down, took out a plump silver cigarette-case and rooted in his pockets for matches. Rollison gave him a light.
“What good will it do if I go into hiding?” Allen demanded at last. They’ll find me—they’ll always find me. They’re too strong for me and for you. It’s best to get it over; let them have their way. Perhaps I’ll be left in peace after that——”
“Isn’t it time you told someone what’s behind all this?” asked Rollison. “And why Pauline wants you to alter your script for to-morrow night?” When Allen did not answer, he went on: “This business appears to have started when you were half-way home from Burma. It followed something you did while you were in Burma. And it was something which made you more scared of the police than of Merino.”
“Who?” asked Allen, and added slowly: “You said something about Merino before—who is he?”
“Blane’s employer. Pauline Dexter’s boy friend,” said Rollison. “Haven’t you met him? He’s the man who telephoned you so often.”
Allen shivered.
“No, I haven’t met him, and I hope I never do. And—I’m not talking. It’s my affair, I’m going to do what the girl wants me to on Saturday, and then I’m through. If they won’t leave me alone then, I’ll kill myself.” He shivered again. “You may think I’m fooling, but I’ve never been more serious. I’m worth nothing to anyone. Bar looked at me just now as if she hated my guts—I know, I know, I asked for it, we needn’t go into that.”
Rollison said: “All right, you won’t talk about what happened in Burma——”
“I didn’t say anything happened there!”
“Then you won’t talk about the reason for the trouble, if you prefer to put it that way,” said Rollison, “and while you keep it to yourself, no one can do much to help you.”
“I don’t want anyone’s help!”
Rollison looked at him dispassionately, and could not feel much sympathy. Allen had become completely spineless— was sorry only for himself.
“I might let you have your own way if only you were concerned,” he said. “But Snub——”
“Don’t blame me for that! It’s your own fault.”
“Anyone’s fault but yours. Allen, I’m going on with this whatever you say or do. That’s final.”
There was silence . . .
Allen stared out of the window.
“What are you going to do with me?” he muttered at last.
“You’ll be told in due course,” said Rollison.
Allen didn’t protest. He’d lost all self-respect and every claim to help, and—Pauline Dexter had helped to make him the wreck he was. Sweet Pauline!
Perky took the back streets and came upon the Mile End Road by way of the Minories, then, driving along another narrow street, eventually reached the rear entrance to the gymnasium. Allen, slumped down in the corner, showed no interest in where he was going.
Rollison opened the door and jumped down.
“I’ll be back in a couple of jiffs,” he said, and added sotto voce to Perky: “Keep an eye on him.” He wondered, as he entered the comparative darkness of the big gym, if Allen would try to take this opportunity to escape.
In the corner, beneath the only lights, the fair-skinned young boxer was going for a man who had the advantage of two stones, years of experience and two inches in reach. The youngster gave an astonishing performance, knocking the other man about the ring as if he were a sack. Bill Ebbutt, gripping the rope tightly, stared with glistening eyes without offering a word of advice.
Rollison reached his side.
“Cor, strewth !” exclaimed Bill in a whisper, as he glanced round, “I told yer so, Mr. Ar, I told yer so—we got a champ there all right. Ain’t ‘e improved? Even in a coupla days, ain’t ‘e improved? Almost a miracle, the way ‘e’s improved.”
“He’s certainly good,” said Rollison. “Has he boxed in public yet?”
“Free times, before I got at ‘im,” said Bill Ebbutt. “Silly mugs, they’d ‘a let ‘im be knocked silly, all the guts would’a been knocked out’ve ‘im, ‘e wanted trainin’.” He raised his voice: “Okay, okay, Willie, leave a bit of ‘im fer ‘is missus. I’ll see yer in a minute,” he added as the boxers dropped their arms, “go an’ get a rub dahn. Not at all bad,” he added, for he was not a believer in excessive praise. Then he turned to Rollison. “You’re givin’ yerself quite a time, Mr. Ar, aincha?”
“One way and another, yes. Jolly phoned you about a hideaway, didn’t he?”
“Ho, yes.” Bill grinned, displaying his uneven, discoloured teeth. “I never would’a believed it, but Jolly’s getting’ quite pally. Want the man ye’ve brought now to keep that dead chap comp’ny?”
“No, Bill, this one’s alive. Young Allen. He might try to get away,” he warned, “I can’t quite make him out, but officially he’s hiding away from the police and from a woman who’s making merry-hell. If he does escape, don’t stop him—have him followed.”
“O-kay,” breathed Bill.
“And I’ll ring up for a report on how he’s behaving,” said Rollison. “Where are you going to send him?”
“ ‘E could stay ‘ere,” said Bill, but shook his head when he saw the frown on Rollison’s face. No? First spot the busies would look, I s’pose. Okay, then, ‘e’ll ‘ave to go into Dinky’s place. Know Dinky, don’t you?”
“That’ll do fine,” said Rollison. “Same address?”
“Same address,” said Bill. “Feed ‘im up like a prince, I s’pose?”
“Just look after him,” said Rollison. “I’ll tell Perky to go straight there, shall I?”
“Better not use Perky’s cab all the way, eyes at the back o’ their ‘eads, these flicking busies, an’ you never know wot the flamin’ narks might see. Coin’ with him?”
“Perhaps I’d better,” said Rollison.
“Okay. Tell Perky ter drive as far as Old Wattle’s,” said Bill, “I’ve told Wattle to ‘ave a van ready.”
Rollison nodded, patted Ebbutt on the shoulder, and went to the door. Before he reached it, Ebbutt was on his way to the dressing-rooms. Rollison smiled reflectively, then glanced into the cab and found Allen still hunched up in his corner.