A single, naked electric-light bulb hung from a ceiling that had big patches of damp on it. It’s hard, bright light cast sharp etched shadows on the brick wall opposite me: the shadows of two men playing cards on an upturned packing case.
I closed my eyes against the light and tried to remember what had happened. The scene in the bedroom came back bit by bit. I wondered where Miss Bolus was. I opened my eyes and without turning my head looked around the room. As far as I could see the room was big: some kind of cellar, and full of packing cases. There were no windows, and by the damp ceiling and the sweating walls I guessed it was well underground. I turned my attention to the two shadows on the opposite walclass="underline" Shannon and Gates. The smoke from their cigarettes moved up the wall in spirals. Gates was shuffling the cards, and as I watched, he began to deal, his hand flicking the cards across the packing case so quickly that the shadows of his hand and the cards falling on the packing case were moving blurs on the wall.
I was lying on the bare springs of a creaky iron bedstead. They hadn’t bothered to tie me, and by now the effects of Shannon’s punch were wearing off. But I didn’t want them to have any warning I was ready to start trouble until my head cleared, so I lay quiet. I thought of Gates and his gun. That was something that had to be risked. If I could put Shannon out of action I felt confident I could handle Gates, but Shannon presented a problem. I would have to hit him no hard enough to put him out. From the scar tissue on his face he had taken plenty of punches in his time, and I didn’t kid myself I could hit him any harder than he had been hit before.
Then suddenly, as if he had picked up my thought waves, Gates said, ‘It’s about time this punk came to. The boss wants to talk to him.’
‘When I hit them, they stay hit,’ Shannon said in a complacent growl. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ A sneer crept into his voice. ‘I thought you liked losing your dough.’
I turned my head slowly. They were sitting about three yards from me to the rear of the head of the bed. I didn’t expect them to be that close: the shadows were deceptive.
My movement attracted Gates’s attention. He swung round as I put my one hand on the springs to give me a lever for my spring and his gun swung up and on me.
‘Don’t try anything funny,’ he said in his grating voice. ‘Or it’ll be too bad for you.’
I looked at him and then at Shannon, who had put down his cards and was easing the great ropey muscles in his shoulders.
‘Better tell the boss,’ Gates said, without taking his eyes off me. ‘I’ll watch him.’
Shannon got up, gave me a hard scowl and went pounding across the concrete floor to a door at the far end of the cellar.
‘What’s happened to Gail Bolus?’ I asked and touched the lump on my jaw with tender fingers.
‘You don’t want to worry about her,’ Gates said. ‘It’s you you want to worry about.’
I decided it wouldn’t be safe to jump him. There was a bleak look in his eyes that told me he’d shoot if he had to, and by the way he held the gun I hadn’t a hope that he’d miss.
‘All the same I worry about her,’ I said. ‘I have that kind of a mind. Just where is she?’
‘She’s being taken care of,’ he returned, and a thin smile twisted his lips. ‘You pipe down and take it easy unless you want a smack in the puss with this rod.’
I glanced at my wristwatch. It was twenty minutes to eleven. That meant I had been in the club a little over an hour and a half. I had no idea what was coming, but I didn’t have to be clairvoyant to know whatever it was wouldn’t be pleasant.
Except for an occasional drip of water from a leaky tap in the distant comer of a cellar there was no more sound for several minutes. Gates held the gun on me and smoked. During those minutes he didn’t once look away or give me the slightest hope of surprising him.
The cellar door swung open and Bannister came in, followed by Shannon. Bannister moved across the floor slowly, his hands in his pockets, his eyes distant and cold. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me. Shannon moved to the head of the bed. He was close enough for me to smell the odour of stale tobacco and sweat that clung to his clothes.
Bannister’s first words came as a complete surprise to me. He said, ‘I owe you an apology, Mr. Malloy. Why didn’t you tell me who you were? I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.’
I swung my legs off the bed and ran my fingers over the side of my face.
‘You didn’t give me much time to introduce myself, did you?’
‘You had no business to be on the third floor. I was misled by Mrs. Cerf. I’m sorry you were manhandled. You’re free to go just as soon as you are ready.’
‘Then how would it be if Weasel-face put away his rod?’ I asked.
Gates snarled at me, but at a sign from Bannister he shoved his gun into its holster and moved away to glower at me from the shadows.
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘Now, where’s Mrs. Cerf?’
‘She’s gone. I’ve thrown her out.’
‘Where’s she gone to?’
‘I don’t know. I told her to pack and take her car and get out. She left about ten minutes ago.’ He offered me a cigarette from a leather case. ‘I’m interested in the necklace,’ he said. ‘You seem to know something about it.’
I took the cigarette, lit it and blew the smoke at him.
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What’s the necklace to you?’
‘She promised it to me,’ he said, and pulled thoughtfully at his long, thin nose. ‘That’s why I had her here.’
‘You mean — Mrs. Cerf?’
‘Yes. A couple of nights ago she came to see me. She said she needed protection and was willing to pay for it. She wanted a room in the club for a week. She offered five hundred dollars.’ A bleak little smile came to h s grey face. ‘It wasn’t enough. She was obviously in trouble, and besides she’s married to a millionaire. I finally agreed to give her a room and protection, and in return she promised me the necklace. I’m being quite frank with you, you see. But when she arrived last night she said the necklace had been stolen. I thought she was lying, but I wasn’t sure. She was in a bad way: hysterical and frightened. She wouldn’t say why. I let her stay the night. We were negotiating terms when you interrupted us. The neck ace belongs to me. At least I have the first claim. Where is it?’
‘You wouldn’t want it,’ I said. ‘It was found in the room of a girl who was murdered last night. Dana Lewis. You’ve read about her in the papers. The police don’t know we have it, but they’ll come around to it sooner or later. I should forget about it quick. I should forget about Mrs. Cerf too.’
He drummed on his knee with white fingers, thinking, then he lifted his shoulders in a tired shrug.
‘Who is Dana Lewis?’ he asked. ‘What has she to do with Mrs. Cerf?’
‘Dana was one of my operators. Cerf hired her to watch h’s wife. That’s all I can tell you, and you can keep that to yourself too.’
‘You think she killed this girl?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I don’t know.’
‘Maybe I’d better forget the necklace,’ he said, half to himself.
‘What was frightening her?’ I asked. ‘You saw the way she acted. She was scared of something. What was it?’
‘I don’t know. She was like that all the time she was here Every time she heard someone in the corridor she would start out of her chair. When I told her to get out, there was a look of death in her face. I was glad to see her go.’
‘When she came to you she asked for protection — is that right?’
‘She said a man she knew was pestering her, and she wanted to get out of his way for a while. She said he was dangerous. She wanted to be sure if he came to the club looking for her I’d take care of him That’s why you were pushed around. I thought you were the fella she was scared of. When we went through your pockets and found who you were I guessed she had been lying.’ He stood up. ‘That’s all. I have work to do. Keep clear of this place from now on. I don’t want any more of this kind of trouble.’