He didn’t say another word until we reached Casy’s joint, then as I got out, he slid under the driving-wheel.
“You see Mick,” he said. “Tell him I’m going to get this car under cover. Those guards had a look at it. They’ll know it again.”
Casy was playing poker when I walked in. One look at my face brought him to his feet.
“All right, boys,” he said to the players. “I’ll be back in a while. I have a little business right now.”
He went straight to his office and I followed.
“Trouble?” he asked and locked the door.
“You bet there’s trouble,” I said through clenched teeth. I had time now to realize what a jam I was in, and it shook me. “Brett’s dead. Someone got there just ahead of me, and as I walked in, whoever it was shot Brett with a .25. And I’m it.”
He swore softly and obscenely under his breath.
“See the killer?”
“No, I’m it, I tell you. I was seen gaping at Brett. I’ve got to get out of here. There’s nothing you can do about this, Mick. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
The telephone began to jangle. Mick scooped up the receiver, barked, “Yes?” He listened, his face a blank, sullen mask. “Okay, okay,” he said angrily. “He’s not here anyway. Come over and have a look if you want to. I’ve got nothing to hide.” He hung up and his eyes glittered as he looked at me.
“I can guess who that was,” I said.
“Yeah. They’re after you. There’s nothing O’Readen can do. Anyway, that’s what he says. They’ve sewn up the roads. They reckoned you’d come here. O’Readen is on his way over with a bunch of prowl boys.”
“I’ll need some dough, Mick. You have two grand of mine. Can I have it?”
“Sure.” He went to his safe, tossed a packet of notes on the desk. “You can have more if you want it.”
“This’ll hold me.” I ran my fingers through my hair. I hated to admit it, but I was rattled. “They’d better not find Veda here.”
Mick grunted, went to the telephone.
“Give me Joe,” he bawled. He waited a moment or so, then went on, “Bring Miss Rux down here, Joe, and make it snappy.”
“What the hell are we going to do with her?” I said.
“Take it easy, Floyd. This isn’t the first time a guy got knocked off,” Mick said and put his hand on my arm. “I’ve got this kind of situation organized. You have to when you play it as close to the chest as I do. There’s a hide-out under the floor. You and Veda stay down there until the heat cools off. They’ll never find you there.”
I drew in a deep breath and grinned at him.
“I was getting ready to jump out of my skin, Mick. This has caught me off balance. It’s a tough feeling to know you’re really in bad with the police. I’ve fooled around in my time, but murder takes the colour out of things.”
“Yeah,” Mick said. “But don’t forget I was framed for murder once and I beat the rap.”
“This is different. I was seen. They have enough witnesses to convince the dumbest jury. If they catch me I’m sunk.”
“They won’t catch you,” Mick said grimly.
There came a rap on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Joe.”
Mick unlocked the door. Joe came in with Veda. She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a red shirt. She looked startled.
“Okay, Joe,” Mick said and waved him to the door. When he had gone, Mick went to a cupboard that stood in a comer of the room opened the door, pulled out a lot of junk and knelt.
“What’s happened?” Veda asked, staring at me.
“Plenty. I’ll tell you later.”
I went over to Mick.
“There you are. Get down there, you two, and keep quiet.” He had pulled up a couple of boards and I could see a flight of wooden stairs leading into darkness.
“Come on,” I said to Veda.
“I don’t think I want to,” she said. “What’s happened?”
I caught hold of her wrist as a red light flickered over the door.
“That’s the cops,” Mick said. “Make it snappy.”
“Police?” Veda said, and she caught her breath.
“Come on,” I said and yanked her to the cupboard.
“There’s a light switch at the foot of the stairs,” Mick said as we went down into the darkness.
I found the switch as he dropped the boards into place. The light showed us we were in a low, narrow passage with a dirt floor. At the far end of the passage was a door.
“This way,” I said to Veda and took her arm.
I pushed open the door, turned on another light and looked around a small room equipped without much comfort with a bed, two chairs a table, a radio, a cupboard full of tinned food and several balks of Scotch. It was a typical hide-out for hot characters.
I shut the door, crossed the room, peeped into the bathroom that consisted of a shower and a low-down suite.
“Our new home,” I said and sat on a chair.
“What’s happened? Did you get the compact?”
“I’ve told you before: you’re making too much fuss about the compact. It ceased to be dangerous when I took it out of Brett’s safe. Forget the compact. I didn’t get it. Someone was there before me. I don’t know who it was and I don’t think I care. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is Brett’s dead. He was shot.”
She sat down abruptly.
“Is that why we’re hiding from the police?”
“That’s right. Now, don’t get ideas. I didn’t kill him. They think I did, but he was dead when I arrived.”
“Why do they think you killed him if you didn’t?”
I told her exactly what happened.
“I’d like a drink,” she said. “Do you think I could have a drink?”
“I guess so. I could use one myself.” I went to the cupboard, tore off the tissue paper around one of the bottles, found two glasses, fixed a couple of shots a duck could have floated on.
“This lets us out,” I said as I handed her a glass. “As soon as the police have gone, you can fade away. From now on I have to be on my own.”
“So we don’t go to Miami.” Her voice sounded bitter.
“That’s the way it is.” I swallowed half the whisky. “When a guy like Brett runs into a bullet there’s a lot of trouble. The newspapers will put on pressure. All his friends will raise a squawk. This is the one job the cops can’t lie down on. I’ll have to keep on the move.” I finished the drink, added: “And I haven’t much dough. I’m telling you this not because I expect you to stick to me, I don’t, but because I’m going back on a promise and I don’t like doing that.”
“You have all the money you want,” she said in a small voice.
“No, I haven’t. Brett promised me twenty-five grand for the dagger. He didn’t get around to paying out. With twenty-five grand I could have given you a good time. I could have had a good time myself. Now I’ll need every nickel I own to keep ahead of the cops.”
She leaned forward and pulled the dagger case out of my pocket. For a long moment I stared at it. I had been so busy escaping and getting rattled I had forgotten about it.
“Boyd would give you twenty-five grand for that,” she said. “Have you thought of Boyd?”
I said I hadn’t, and sat staring at her.
“We could still go to Miami if we could get there.”
“You want to keep away from me. I’m hot.”
“Do I?”
We looked at each other. My heart began to thump and the old dryness came back in my mouth again.
“You want to keep away from me,” I repeated.
She reached out and touched me and I grabbed her. There was no fighting this time. We clung to each other as if it meant something: it did to me.
“If we can get away,” she murmured, her fingers touching my face, want to be with you for always. I want to start a new life. I’m so tired of being what I am. I want to find happiness. I could with you.”
Mick came in to spoil it. He stood in the doorway and scowled at us.
“For the love of Pete, can’t you do something else besides grabbing a woman?” he demanded.
“It’s one way of passing the time.” I unravelled myself from Veda’s clutch and stood up. “The Law gone?”
“Yeah. I’ve fixed it for you to get to the coast. There’s a boat waiting to take you to San Francisco. O’Readen’s men won’t see you when you go through the cordon. I had a little trouble with that punk, but he’ll play.”
“Tomorrow night, Mick.”
“Tonight, I said.”
“It’s got to be tomorrow night, and she’s coming with me.” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“If it’s not tonight, it won’t be at all,” he said in an exasperated voice. “I’m doing a hell of a lot for you. The heat’s on and it’s like a red-hot stove. It’s got to be tonight.”
“I’m picking up twenty-five grand. It’s my get-away stake. I can’t get it until tomorrow.”
He gaped at me.
“Twenty-five grand?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s different. I’ll see what I can do.” He stared at me, his eyes suddenly alert. “Does this mean more trouble?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I wouldn’t know.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I want to use the telephone.” I smiled at Veda. “Wait here. I’ll be right back. Try to make that bed comfortable. We’ve got to get us some sleep tonight.”
Mick sneered at her as I pushed past him to the door.
I had trouble in getting Boyd to came to the ‘phone, but after a long delay his voice crackled against my ear.
“I have something you want, Dominic,” I said. “You know what it is. Brett doesn’t need it now. If you want it bring twenty-five grand in cash to Casy’s joint in Santa Medina before noon tomorrow. Ask for Casy. Don’t try any smart tricks or you’ll never see the dagger again. It’s yours for twenty-five grand. Is it a deal?”
“You killed him!” he shouted. “You’re not going to get away with this, Jackson. You’ve been too smart.”
“Is it a deal?” I repeated.
He hesitated, then said it was in a voice you could cut bread on.
I hung up and went back to Veda.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IF WE had done as Casy had planned, and had made a break for it on the night of the murder, we might have reached Miami. But by delaying another twenty-four hours to collect what I thought was a get-away stake killed that idea as surely as a .25 slug had killed Brett. O’Readen would have let us through the cordon if we had gone at once, but the delay crippled him. In those wasted hours the man-hunt was organized. By then the State Troopers, the F.B.I. and the Los Angeles police had taken the matter out of O’Readen’s hands. The politicians were yelling for action. The squawk the news-papers put up the morning following the murder echoed up and down the coast like a thunder clap. They had been waiting for an opportunity to crucify O’Readen, and they grabbed the chance like a starving man grabs a free meal. They demanded instant action or else.
The President of the oil companies owned by Brett added his voice to the uproar by offering ten grand for any information that’d lead to the arrest of the killer. All that day the local radio station interrupted its programmes to give the latest information on the murder and to broadcast a description of me. The K.G.P.L. police hook-up was pouring out instructions to their prowl cars every hour of the day to go to this or that address where it had been reported I had been seen. In those twenty-four hours I’d thrown away, the whole country was whipped into an hysterical frenzy, and the man-hunt of the century, as the radio called it, was on.
Dominic Boyd had been over to collect the dagger. I didn’t see him. Casy handled the deal for me. He said Boyd handed over the money with scarcely a word. As he was leaving he said he hoped the police would get me, and the vicious fury in his voice had startled Casy. Well, I had collected the get-away stake, but the way things were shaping it didn’t seem as if it would help much.
All day Veda and I stayed ill the hide-out and listened to the radio. The constant reference to me as a vicious killer gave me a sick feeling, but I didn’t let her know how rattled I was. When a special broadcast warned mothers to keep their children off the streets, and lock and bolt all doors and windows that night, I couldn’t even look at her.
As the hours crept past and the hysteria increased I began to realize that we wouldn’t reach Miami. The distance was too far and the risk too great. If we were to believe what the radio said, every road out from Santa Medina and San Luis Beach was barricaded, and amateur detectives all over the country were on the lookout for me in the hope of earning that reward.
While we were trying to eat a meal Veda had prepared, Casy came in. There was a bleak look in his eyes and his mouth was set in a hard thin line.
“How’s it going, Mick?” I asked, not liking his expression. I knew how it was going, but I hoped I was getting hysterical too and it wasn’t so bad as I thought.
“You’re not getting to Miami,” he said and sat down. “We’ve got to face it, Floyd. This is the biggest thing that’s happened in a life-time. Whoever shot Brett might just as well have shot the President. The heat’s fierce.”
“Yeah,” I said and pushed away my plate. The food had been sticking in my throat anyway. “Some punk was saying on the radio just now I should be shot at sight like a mad dog.”
“They’ve jacked up the reward to thirty grand and that’s too much dough,” Mick said gravely. “Now look, Floyd, you’ll have to get moving. Too many guys know you’re here. There’s the guard on the door, there’s Joe and Lu and there’re the guys I was playing poker with when you came in. They all know you’re still in the building because they haven’t seen you leave. I trust Joe and Lu, but no one else, and thirty grand is too big a temptation. You’re not safe here.”
I poured myself a shot of whisky, frowned at it, then pushed it impatiently aside.
“I’ll get out,” I said.
“Redfern has been over. That guy is no fool and he’s going to throw a hook into you or bust. If one of my boys squeals, Red-fern will be back with a wrecking crew, and he’ll take this joint to pieces until he finds you. I hate having to say this, Floyd, but you’ll have to move.”
I looked at Veda. She was very calm and alert and her eyes were bright with excitement.
“Your only chance is to get across the border,” Mick was saying. “Make for Tijuana. That’s your quickest way out of trouble. I don’t know how you’ll get there, but if you can get there, you’re safe.”
“I’ll tell him how to get there,” Veda said briskly. “We’ll go in my car. They’re not looking for me, and Floyd can disguise himself. We’ll get through all right.”