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“All right,” he said, “here’s the end of the line for you. You’re going to get hurt now.”

He came round the desk.

I sat perfectly still.

“Get going,” he said, and grabbed me by the coat collar with his left hand.

“Up.”

He jabbed a thumb under my chin.

He’d been around, that boy. He knew the exact nerve centers where a jabbing thumb would bring a man up out of a chair.

I got up out of the chair fast. He spun me around toward the door.

“You’ve asked for this,” he said. “Now you’re going to take your medicine like a little man.”

He swung me out at arm’s length and reached for the knob of the entrance door.

The knob made noise, and immediately on the other side of the door I heard the keys start rattling once more on the typewriter.

I said, “You may have an alibi on Bishop’s murder. You may not. But that doesn’t mean you have one on Maurine Auburn, and Gabby Garvanza isn’t going to be easy. When I tell him—”

The hand dropped away from the doorknob as though the arm had wilted.

For a long moment he stood there, absolutely motionless, watching me with cold, blue eyes that held no more emotion than the keys on an adding-machine. Then he let go of me, walked completely around the desk, settled himself, picked up the pencil again, and said, “Sit down, Mister Lam.”

I said, “If you want to save yourself a lot of trouble, start talking.”

“You can tell Gabby that I don’t know a thing about Maurine, and that’s the honest truth.”

I said, “It isn’t healthy to get in Gabby’s way.”

“I’m not in his way.”

He shot out his cuff nervously, picked up the pencil, twisted it in his fingers, then reached for his handkerchief, blew his nose, wiped his forehead, put his handkerchief back in his pocket, and cleared his throat.

I said, “Start talking.”

“I know nothing about Maurine.”

“Can you make a judge believe that?”

“To hell with a judge. What does he have to do with it?”

I smiled at him, a gloating smile of cold triumph. “If you get in Gabby’s way and he can frame you for a murder, he’s going to do it, and let the state take care of you, and you know that as well as I do.”

The guy’s coat retained its tailor-made lines, but the body inside of the coat had shrunk and slumped. The coat looked two sizes too large.

“Now, look,” he said, “you’re working for Gabby Garvanza and—”

“I didn’t tell you for whom I was working,” I interrupted.

I saw his eyes widen. There was an expression of incipient relief.

“But,” I said, “I now have some information Gabby Garvanza is going to want. And I want to know about Bishop. Now start talking.”

That did it. The crack about Gabby framing a murder on him had taken all the starch out of his spine and he was too terror-stricken to think clearly, to even try to figure out my real interest. He had hypnotized himself into static terror.

He said, “All I know about is the bookkeeping. We fixed it so that every bit of income Bishop had came from those mining companies.”

“And the mining companies?” I asked.

“Among their various activities,” he said, “they operated The Green Door. There was nothing in their charters that said they couldn’t. No reason why a company can’t operate anything it wants.

“Now, I can tell you this much. When Gabby Garvanza wanted to move into San Francisco, some of the fellows decided they would make it tough for him, but that wasn’t Bishop’s idea. Bishop and I wanted to play ball with him all along. If he could furnish the protection we were willing to pay for that protection. We didn’t care where the money went to or who got it. All we wanted was the commodity.

We were willing to buy it from the one who could give us the best service.

“Now, that’s the truth, Mr. Lam. I never did buck Gabby and neither did Bishop.”

I said, “How well did you know Maurine?”

“You know how well I knew her — at least Gabby does. I introduced Maurine to him. I knew her well. Bishop knew her damn well.”

“And what about Mrs. Bishop?” I asked.

“Irene keeps out of the business.”

I said, “I want her background.”

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

He tried to get control of himself and almost made it.

“If you’re in with Gabby Garvanza there’s a lot you don’t know.”

“And a lot I do. I have some very interesting information for Gabby. Now tell me about Irene.”

For some reason the guy was scared half to death of Gabby. My walking in and asking him about Maurine had jarred him right down to the shoelaces.

He said, “Irene was in burlesque. She was a striptease artist. Bishop went out on a party with her one night and they clicked. He fell for her like a ton of bricks and she — Well, she played her cards smart as hell.”

“Was it a legal wedding?”

“Legal? You’re damn right it was legal. Irene saw to that. She had the smartest lawyer in town handle the whole thing. She insisted on a legal marriage. He had to buy his wife out. Irene may look dumb but she’s smart.”

“Who killed Maurine Auburn?”

“I swear that I don’t know, Lam. I tell you honestly I don’t know. I was absolutely, utterly shocked by it. I — I liked her.”

“Who killed Bishop?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. Put yourself in my place. I don’t know where I stand. For all I know someone may be trying to put the finger on me. That’s not a nice feeling.

“You can tell Gabby that I want to see him. I’ve been trying to reach him. He can help me.”

I sneered at him.

He mopped his face again.

“What’s going to happen to The Green Door now?”

“There’ll be no opposition as far as I’m concerned to anything Gabby wants to do. Provided, of course, he can fix it up with the others, and — Well, I guess he can.”

“What do you know about John Carver Billings?”

“Billings is all right. He’s the banker. We use him occasionally. He doesn’t ask any questions just so we keep a good balance in his bank.”

“Does he know any questions to ask?”

“I don’t think so. George had a stranglehold on him because of the boy.”

“What’s all this business about wanting him to foreclose on the Skyhook Mining and Development Syndicate?”

“Now, there,” Channing said, “you’ve got me. I told George a hundred times that that was the most foolish thing he could do. It was apt to result in an investigation. It might even ruin the entire business structure.”

“He didn’t listen to you?”

“No. He wanted that foreclosure filed. He said he didn’t give a damn what happened, he wanted the foreclosure filed. Tell Gabby I’d like to talk with him — any time.”

“How about the widow?”

He laughed. “What does she have to do with it?”

“She might have a great deal.”

Channing said, “Make no mistake about this, Mr. Lam. You can tell Gabby Garvanza I am taking over The Green Door.”

“What will Irene get out of it?”

“Irene,” he said, “will share in the estate. She was a damn good burlesque stripper. She had what it takes and she gave what she had, but she’s small potatoes. She got hers and now she’s out of it. As of tonight I’m taking over.”

Some of his assurance began to come back.

“And the corporations?”

“The corporations will be all washed up in a smother of figures.”

I said, “Stay right here until two o’clock in the afternoon.