Tiger by the Tail

by James Hadley Chase

  “Now take it easy. This is something you don’t have to face alone. You have me. There’s not much I can’t fix.”

  “He didn’t do it,” she said tonelessly. “He wouldn’t do a horrible thing like that.”

  Knowing Johnny, O’Brien thought it was just the thing he would do.

  “That’s only your opinion,” he said gently. “He’s your brother and you’re fond of him, but you’ve got to consider what other people will think. He’s got a pretty bad reputation. He behaved badly…”

  “I tell you he didn’t do it!” she exclaimed, jumping up and facing him. “You talk as if you have proof…” She stopped, her hand going to her mouth. “That policeman doesn’t think he did it, does he?”

  O’Brien shook his head.

  “He doesn’t know a thing about Johnny.”

  She went over to the window, her back turned to him. He watched her, experiencing the sense of pleasure the sight of her tall, slim, beautifully proportioned body always gave him.

  “Then why do you think Johnny did it?” she asked.

  “Look, this will get us nowhere. He was in town last night and she was murdered. It’s as simple as that.”

  “He didn’t do it!” she said fiercely, without turning.

  “Did you see him last night?”

  “No. He telephoned.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She turned then.

  “I should have. I’m sorry, Scan, but he asked me not to. He wanted money. He said he was going to New York. I was leaving for the Casino when he called. I told him I’d meet him there and have the money for him. He didn’t show up. He must have got the money from someone else.”

  “Did he get it from Fay?”

  “No!” Her eyes flashed. “He didn’t know where she lived, and he wouldn’t take money from her. He never went near Fay last night.”

  “I hope you are right,” O’Brien said soberly. “So you didn’t see him?”

  “I didn’t.”

  He was far too shrewd not to see at once that she was lying. She had seen him, and she must be as convinced as he was that Johnny had murdered Fay.

  This was serious. At all costs Johnny mustn’t get into the hands of the police. He had to deal with this situation quickly and efficiently. Where was Johnny?”

  “He’s gone to New York then?” he said casually, watching her closely.

  “Yes. I’m sure I shall hear from him soon,” Gilda said, not looking at him.

  “I see.”

  She was still lying to him. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be sheltering Johnny. He might be at her apartment at this moment.

  “Well, so long as he is out of the way…” he said, and looked at his wristwatch. “Damn it! I nearly forgot. I have to call a guy. Wait for me, will you? We’ve got to get this thing straightened out. I won’t be a minute.”

  He went out of the room, into his study, and closed the door. He dialled a number, and, keeping his voice down, said, “Get me Tux.”

  After a short delay, a hard, rasping voice said, “Yes, boss?”

  “You did a swell job on that apartment house. I have another job for you. Go around to 45 Maddox Court. It’s Miss Dorman’s apartment. Get in there and take a look around. Don’t let anyone see you. I think Johnny Dorman’s there. If he is, take him away and hole him up somewhere safe. It won’t be easy, but you’ve handled tougher jobs than this one. Take Whitey along with you. The boy gets wild under pressure.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Tux said.

  “I want him somewhere where I can get at him in a hurry. I don’t want anyone to see him, and be careful how you handle him. Don’t hit him on the head: his roofs not all that strong.”

  “Leave it to me, boss,” Tux said. “I’ll call you back.”

  O’Brien replaced the receiver, lit a cigarette and returned to the lounge.

  He thought from the look of Gilda’s eyes that she had been crying, and he went to sit beside her on the couch.

  “You mustn’t let this upset you,” he said gently. “Now, let’s take a look at the set-up. You’ve got to be frank with me, Gilda. This could turn out to be unpleasant for both of us. We’ve got to think of ourselves. There are one or two things I want you to tell me about. Some time ago there was trouble between you and Fay and Johnny. At the time I felt it wasn’t my business, but now it could be my business and I want to know what it was all about. You’ve got to remember that I have a lot of enemies. They know we’re planning to get married. If they could put Johnny on a spot they’ll do it to get at me. I must know the facts. I don’t want them sprung on me. Someone might remember that Johnny threatened to kill Fay, and the police might be forced to dig into his past. I want to know what happened between you and Fay and Johnny. All I know is he suddenly went haywire and you put him in a home. I want the inside story, Gilda. I must have it.”

  “If Johnny is in trouble,” she said quietly, “you don’t have to marry me, Sean.”

  “I’m going to marry you,” O’Brien said, looking fixedly at her. “That’s about the one thing in life I am sure about. But I’m going to avoid trouble if I can. I must know what it was all about. Will you tell me?”

  She lifted her shoulders wearily.

  “Of course. It’s all very sordid, but I have nothing to hide. I would have told you before if you had asked.” She reached for a cigarette; accepted the light he offered, and went on, “Fay and I were once good friends. We shared an apartment. I did a little singing; she did a dancing act with her partner, Maurice Yarde. She was crazy about him. He wasn’t the type of man any girl should be crazy about. He was selfish and utterly unscrupulous. One day she brought him to the apartment and introduced him to me. From that moment I never had a second’s peace. He followed me everywhere. You can’t imagine how crude he was. He forced himself on me. Fay wouldn’t believe I wasn’t encouraging him, and she quarrelled with me. Nothing I could say would convince her. She quarrelled with him, too. I left the apartment, but still he kept after me. Finally, I left town. He was so furious with Fay for interfering, he broke up the dance act and also left town. When I heard he had gone, I came back. Fay wouldn’t have anything to do with me, and I wasn’t sorry because she had gone completely off the rails. She wouldn’t go on with her dancing, and she turned to men for money. One day she ran into Johnny, who was just out of the army. I don’t have to tell you what a dreadful time he had had during the war. It left him unbalanced; he drank too much and got into violent rages. I was the only one who could handle him. Fay found out he was my brother, but he didn’t find out what she was. She made up her mind to hook him to get even with me. She did hook him. I warned him about her, but he wouldn’t listen. He became as crazy about her as she had been about Yarde. He wanted to marry her, but she held him off; neither refusing nor accepting him. Then one of his friends gave him her card, telling him if he wanted a girl, he could recommend her. I guess Johnny went off his head. He rushed around to her apartment, and if Sam Darcy hadn’t arrived soon after, Johnny might have killed her. She was terribly beaten up. Sam got him under control and sent for me. I got Johnny into a home. Well, you know the rest of it, Sean. Johnny stayed in the home for nearly a year. The doctors have told me he has made a complete recovery. I was going there to bring him home, but he forestalled me. He got back last night.”

  O’Brien rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “So Sam Darcy knows about Johnny and Fay?”

  “He knows Johnny beat her up and threatened to kill her.”

  “Do you think Johnny went to him last night? Do you think Darcy knows he’s in town?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, all right,” O’Brien said. “I now know the facts. We mustn’t make too much of this. We mustn’t jump to conclusions. Howard tells me they have a description of a man who was seen leaving Fay’s apartment about the time she died. It’s nothing like the description of Johnny.”

  “I tell you Johnny didn’t do it
!” she said sharply.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t very important what you and I think, Gilda,” O’Brien said seriously. “The facts are he threatened to kill her before going into the home. As soon as he comes out, she’s murdered. I only hope they catch this tall, dark guy in the grey suit. If they don’t, someone may remember that Johnny could be a suspect, and because he’s your brother, they may try to make something out of it.”

  “Surely the police will find this man,” Gilda said anxiously.

  “I hope so.” He gave her a crooked little smile. “Let’s get our minds off this for a moment. Lunch is ready.”

  She shook her head.

  “I want to go home now, Sean. I have things to do.”

  “You are going to have lunch with me,” he said firmly, and took her arm, walking with her down the passage to the dining-room.

  An hour later, after she had driven away in her sports coupe, the telephone bell rang.

  O’Brien picked up the receiver.

  “Tux here,” the hard, rasping voice said. “It’s okay, boss. He was there, and I’ve got him.”

  O’Brien’s face hardened.

  “Where?”

  “On the Willow Point.”

  “Fine. I’ll be over in half an hour,” O’Brien said. “Stick close to him, Tux.”

  He hung up.

  II

  Ken Holland closed the front door and walked with shaky legs back to the lounge. He rested his hands on the back of an easy chair and leaned his weight on them. His heart was still pounding. He still felt the suffocating fear that had gripped him at the sight of the two detectives as they had come up the path.

  What an escape! he thought. Did they notice how scared I was? I’ve got to pull myself together. If they ever get on to me I’ll give myself away if I behave like that again.

  He suddenly thought of Parker.

  He must be warned.

  He hurried to the telephone, dialled and listened to the ringing tone.

  Hurry up! he thought feverishly. They’ll be around to you any moment. Hurry up!

  There was a click on the line, and Mrs. Parker’s chilly, pedantic voice asked who was calling.

  “This is Kenway Holland. May I speak to Max?”

  “Well, he’s in the garden,” Mrs. Parker said dubiously as if her husband

  was in China. “I’ll see if I can get him. Hold on a moment.”

  Ken waited in an agony of suspense.

  “Are you there?” Mrs. Parker asked after a long wait. “I’ll get him to call you back. He’s talking to two men at the moment. I can’t imagine who they are, but I don’t suppose he’ll be long.”

  “Thank you,” Ken said, and hung up.

  He went over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a shot of whisky and drank it. He lit a cigarette and sat down. There was nothing he could do now but wait.

  What would happen to Parker? Would he be able to bluff Donovan? Would he admit knowing Fay Carson? Would he tell Donovan he had given Ken Fay’s telephone number? Would Parker remember that Ken owned a light-gray suit ?

  Unable to sit still while his mind was crawling with alarm, Ken got up and went into the garden. He went down the path to the gate and stared up and down the street. He wanted to walk to the corner to see if the police car was still outside Parker’s house, but he was scared the detectives might see him.

  After a long moment of staring up and down the street, he returned to the bungalow.

  Then from nowhere a sudden paralysing thought came into his mind.

  What had he done with the registration book he had taken from the car attendant’s hut?

  He turned hot, then cold when he realized he had no idea what had become of the book. Until this moment he had completely forgotten about it.

  He remembered slipping it into his hip pocket while he talked to the car attendant, but after that he had no recollection of what he had done with it.

  It hadn’t been in the suit. Before he had taken the suit back to Gaza’s store, he had gone through the pockets most carefully.

  Then where was it?

  Had he dropped it in the street?

  If it were found it would be recognized. The owner of every car entered in the book would be investigated, and his car number was in the book!

  He looked around wildly. If he had dropped it somewhere in the bungalow, Carrie might have found it and put it away as she put everything away.

  He began a feverish and futile search.

  It was growing dark by the time he satisfied himself the book wasn’t in the bungalow. He was in a panic as he stood staring around the now disordered lounge.

  Had the book slipped out of his pocket while he had been driving home?

  What a fool he was!

  Of course that was what must have happened. He should have looked in the car first.

  He went to the front door, opened it and started down the path towards the garage when he saw Parker at the gate.

  He stopped short, looking at Parker who came up the path in the gathering dusk, his head held low, a stoop to his shoulders.

  “I want to talk to you,” he said as he came up to Ken.

  “Come in,” Ken said, and led the way into the lounge. He turned on the light. “I’m sorry the place is in such a mess. I lost something, and I’ve been hunting for it.”

  Parker went over to an armchair and sank into it. His fat, usually red face looked flabby and pale, and his hands were unsteady as he rested them on the arms of the chair.

  “If you’ve got a drink…” he said.

  “Sure,” Ken said, and fixed two highballs. “That detective fellow was here. He wanted your address. I tried to call you, but he got around to you too fast.”

  Parker stared at him in a disconcerting, searching way. Ken gave him the highball and then moved awkwardly to an armchair and sat down.

  “What happened?” he asked after a long pause.

  “They didn’t get anything out of me,” Parker said, his voice flat and cold. “I stuck to my story. I damn well had to. The sergeant said I was lying; he said I called Fay. I told him to prove it. He didn’t rattle me, but he had a damn good try. When he saw he was getting nowhere, he said he didn’t think I had killed her — that’s nice, isn’t it? He hoped I might know who her men friends were. I knew I didn’t dare admit I knew her. I swore I hadn’t called her. He said no other call had been made from the pay booth at the time I said I had called Maisie. I guessed by the way he talked no one but you had seen me use the booth, so I said I might have been mistaken about the time. I said it was possible I had called Maisie earlier than ten. So he said he would talk to Maisie.” Parker took a long drink, wiped his face and stared down at his feet. “That was a pretty horrible ten minutes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget waiting in the garden with the other detective while the sergeant talked to Maisie. She was terrific. She must have guessed I had got myself into a mess. She lied her head off. She told the sergeant I had called her just after nine, and not after ten as I had said. The sergeant must have been a first-class fool. He actually told her I had called her at ten. She was so emphatic that he believed her. He even apologized to me.”

  Ken relaxed back in his chair.

  “I can’t say how glad I am…”

  Again Parker gave him the odd, searching stare.

  “When they had gone, I told Maisie the truth,” he said slowly. “She’s taken it pretty hard.”

  “You didn’t tell her about the girl? That you and she…?”

  “I had to. She knew I had lied to the sergeant. I couldn’t look her in the face and lie to her. She asked -me bluntly if I had been fooling around with Fay. I had to admit it.”

  Ken realized that if Ann had put the same question to him, he would have been unable to lie to her.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Yes.” Parker ran his hand over his face. “She’s taken it pretty hard. Of course her mother heard all about it. She made things damned difficult. This could break up my h
ome.”

  “I can’t say how sorry I am.”

  “Well, I brought it on myself. It’s damned funny, but I felt so safe with Fay. I thought I could get away with it. What a fool I’ve been!” He looked up suddenly and stared hard at Ken. “But that’s enough about me. I’m not going to talk any more about my troubles. There’s something else I want to say. The sergeant gave me a description of the man they want. They think he killed Fay. I’ve been thinking about what he said.” He leaned forward and went on, “Are you quite sure, Holland, that you didn’t go to Fay’s apartment last night?”

  Ken’s heart skipped a beat, then raced. He felt himself change colour. He made a desperate attempt to meet Parker’s eyes, but he couldn’t do it. To hide his fear, he reached for a cigarette; lit it, then said, his voice hoarse and shaky, “I don’t know what you’re driving at, Max. I’ve told you before: I spent the evening here.”

  Parker continued to stare at him.

  “I think you’re lying,” he said. “Did you go to her apartment?”

  “I tell you I didn’t!” Ken cried, starting to his feet.

  “Good God!” Parker said, his face turning pale. “When he gave me the description it occurred to me it fitted you. I wondered if you had done it, but I couldn’t believe you had. Now I know you did it!”

  Ken felt so frightened he could scarcely breathe.

  “They said they were looking for a tall, dark, good-looking man around thirty,” Parker went on, his voice shrill. “He wore a grey suit and a grey hat. They said he owned a shabby green Lincoln.” He got unsteadily to his feet. “Goddamn it! It must be you! You’ve got guilt written all over your face!”

  The two men stared at each other, both shaking. Ken frightened; Parker horrified.

  “I didn’t do it!” Ken blurted out. “You’ve got to believe me, Max. I swear I didn’t do it!”

  “I don’t want to hear anything about it!” Parker said violently. “I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but whatever it is, you’ve got to keep me out of it. Do you understand ? I know I gave you her telephone number, but for God’s sake, don’t tell the police that. You’ve already ruined my home. If it gets out I gave you her phone number, I’ll lose my job as well. I’ll be smeared over every newspaper in the country. You’ve got to keep me out of it!”