The rolls of fat heaved as he chuckled richly.
“Blackmail? That’s a very unkind thing to say. I imagine you didn’t just pluck the word out of thin air?”
“No. What you mean is, can I prove it? Frankly, at the moment, no. But I’m heading in the right direction. It shouldn’t be too long before I can.”
“You really are a very interesting character. And as poor dear Flower put it herself, no ordinary flatfoot. Might I ask what leads you to this drastic conclusion?”
Hugo Somerset had been using words all his life. Mixing with phonies and assorted hangers-on had developed in him a kind of shell, and the real man seldom peeped through. It wouldn’t be enough to say he was taking the situation calmly. It was rather as though we were talking about other people. He wasn’t going to be bluffed into anything.
“I’m in touch with one of the people you’ve been bleeding. It’s an old routine, the one she fell for. A few drinks at a party, some guy starts putting the pressure on, and along comes a creep with a camera. I like the switch in your system, though.”
“Please tell me about it.”
“In your case you come along and make like big Uncle Hugo. You save the unfortunate woman, she thinks you’re some kind of a shining knight. Then you put the screw on through somebody else. It’s neat. But it doesn’t make me like you one little bit.”
He nodded, didn’t seem disturbed in the least.
“Interesting. And you’re really in touch with one of my—um—victims? Could I ask who it is?”
I laughed outright at the nerve of the man.
“You’re wonderful,” I admitted. “And of course you don’t seriously expect me to tell you. But she paid Brook-man regularly. Brookman was killed. Flower promised to tell me things about him, things you didn’t volunteer. But Flower was killed too. The man who hired me to dig into the Brookman thing was shot and nearly killed last night. Now, do you suppose there could just be some little connection between all those things?”
“Could be,” he agreed. “In fact, the neat and consecutive way in which you describe these things, one could hardly come to any other conclusion.”
“And?”
“And the only little fault I can put my finger on,” he explained, “Is that you’re one hundred per cent wrong from start to finish.”
I tossed my butt into his pool, and watched it float untidily on the still blue water.
“O.K. Hugo, if that’s all you have to say. I was kind of hoping we could do some kind of a deal. I don’t think I’m really after you. But if you won’t trade, I’ll have to tell the cops what I know. We’ll see what kind of thing they make of it.”
“Wait a moment.”
He rolled ponderously off the chair and fell thunderously into the pool. After one or two elephantine splashings he climbed out with difficulty, pouring water in cascades all over the grass and shaking his great head.
“That’s better. Clear the head. Come into the house. Perhaps it is time we had a serious talk.”
He waddled past me, shaking off spray like an artificial fountain. I got up and followed, easing the .38 in its holster in case he should decide to get rid of me. Inside, he patted ineffectually at himself with a striped towel then went across to the bar, leaving damp patches everywhere.
“Beer all right?”
“Fine.”
He tossed over a can and we stood looking at one another.
“Preston, you seem to be digging up little things around and about, and of course facts are facts. Supposition however, is something else again. How far can I trust you?”
“It depends,” I returned. “If I find you had anything to do with those murders, you can trust me about as far as the nearest telephone.”
He nodded, as though that was the expected reply.
“Fair enough. And the blackmail theory?”
“That too. In my book blackmail is as bad as murder. Worse, in some cases. So don’t let’s waste any time talking deal about that.”
He peeled the metal strip from the top of the can, and tipped some of the ice-cold beer down. I did the same, and it was good.
“Sit down, Preston, and let’s talk for a moment.”
I waited for him to sit first, on a cane chair where I could see for myself there wasn’t any weapon within reach. I selected a chair without arms, where there would be nothing to restrict easy access to the .38.
“All right, let’s hear the talking.”
He folded his hands across the huge stomach and pursed his lips.
“I’m going to have to tell you certain things. I don’t like doing it, but there are two reasons why I shall. First of all, if you decide to go to the police, I don’t see how they can fail to find out anyway. Indeed I should probably have to tell them myself to be sure of clearance on this charge of murder.”
“And the other reason?”
“The other is that I think if you know the facts, it might decide you not to tell the police. I like to think— don’t we all?—that I am somewhat of a judge of a man. I believe you will respect my confidence.”
I set down the empty can on the floor before replying.
“Don’t overplay that. In my own curious fashion I’m on the side of the law. The fact that you choose to confide in me, doesn’t place any inhibitions on my right to repeat it. I’m neither a doctor nor a priest. And this isn’t the boy scouts.”
“At least you are honest. I know where I stand. Did you mean what you said about blackmail, about it being as dirty as murder?”
“I meant it.”
“Good.”
He sat thinking for a moment, and I was beginning to wonder whether he’d changed his mind. Then he spoke, quite softly, and staring at the floor. There was no flamboyance now.
“You are right about one thing. There is blackmail here. It’s just that you have your casting wrong. I am not a blackmailer, Preston. I have been many things, but never that. The truth is, I am one of the people being blackmailed.”
I hoped my mouth wasn’t hanging open.
“Last night when you came here, I was waiting for my tormentor to arrive. I’d almost screwed up my courage for murder, but your untimely appearance destroyed whatever resolve I thought I had.”
That would certainly account for the gun.
“You’d better tell me the rest,” I suggested, “Anybody can say what you’re saying. But if you’re going to talk your way out of this you have a long way to go.”
“Yes, yes. I am aware of that. For me, this is the hardest part. This is the part where I have to put myself in your hands.”
He looked across for any sign of sympathy on my face. There wasn’t any.
“A long time ago,” he began, “I was involved in a large robbery. A very large robbery. We got away with almost a quarter of a million. Does that surprise you?”
“I gave up being surprised years ago. What happened?”
“There were three of us. We got away with the operation itself. It was a lovely job,” his eyes went dreamy. “There was no violence, no last-minute hitches it went like clockwork. A lovely job. I planned it myself, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I said dryly.
“You see,” he ignored the interruption, “we are none of us criminals. We are ordinary people, leading ordinary lives. We had agreed to carry on as normal for at least a year afterwards, then collect our individual shares, and begin to enjoy the proceeds. We were betrayed by the most damnable piece of luck. A couple of months after the robbery, one of my partners had to have an internal operation. It was nothing really major, but of course it involved anaesthesia. You can imagine what happened.”
I nodded.
“He talked his head off under the anaesthetic and you were all picked up. Say, that really was a bad break.”
“Indeed it was. We were arrested within hours, and the trial was more or less a formality. Not even an idiot could have pretended to believe we weren’t as guilty as hell. We each got a sentence of ten to twelv
e years. We were offered three to five if we told where the money was, but we had already agreed not to do that. And so we went to jail. That was eleven years ago. I served eight and a half years. One of my partners unfortunately could not survive the rigours of prison life. He died after about five years. So, you see, that left two of us to share the money in the end.”
A hundred thousand dollars apiece and maybe more. It was certainly something to dream about during the years behind the gray walls.
“We were watched of course, but we took our time for some months. Then one night we recovered the money and left town with just the clothes we stood up in. In different directions, that is. I think you are probably beginning to see the end of the story?”
He looked at me questioningly.
“I imagine so. If the cops traced you in possession of stolen goods or money, they’d clap another charge on you. You’d get another sentence, a tough one with all that money involved, and this time you wouldn’t have the money waiting when you came out.”
“Precisely. The whole thing would have been in vain. I would have given all those years of my life for nothing. This is not a prospect to be contemplated.”
“I can see that. So this blackmail you mention, this means somebody showed up in town who recognized you, and they put the bite on you.”
He spread his shoulders in a huge shrug.
“Again, a piece of remarkable coincidence. This creature happened to be in the same penitentiary as myself for a time, thousands of miles from here. As I say, really very bad luck. Well, there you have it. I’ve been quite honest with you. Are you going to turn me in?”
I wish people wouldn’t ask me questions like that. Who am I to sit in judgment?
“You say nobody got hurt?”
“I can show you the complete newspaper clippings on the robbery and the trial. You can see for yourself. I may be a thief, all right I am a thief, but I’m not a ruffian.”
I drummed my ringers against my knee while I thought. Finally I said:
“I’m not an informer. If your story stands up, I guess it’s none of my business.”
He inclined his head slowly.
“It would be pointless for me to try to thank you. There just aren’t enough thanks for that kind of thing.”
“But that doesn’t get me any closer to this killer,” I reminded. “What else do you know about Brookman that you didn’t tell the police?”
“Nothing. Really nothing.”
“And how do you explain this woman who’s also being blackmailed? What happened to her happened at one of your parties. Kind of a strong coincidence wouldn’t you say?”
He grinned faintly.
“You ought to come to one of my parties, Preston. Believe me, there’s usually enough going on to keep a dozen blackmailers in clover for the rest of their lives. You can’t honestly blame me for that.”
That was a matter of opinion, I thought. But looking at it from Somerset’s standpoint, I could follow his reasoning.
“This particular time you broke it up,” I prompted. “You could see the girl didn’t want to play, and you told the man to knock it off.”
He frowned, trying to remember.
“That happens sometimes,” he admitted. “Most of the people who attend these little soirees know exactly what they’re doing, and I don’t attempt to interfere. But if I do see the kind of thing you’ve described, and as I say it does happen infrequently, then I put a stop to it.”
“And you wouldn’t remember one particular incident?” I challenged.
He wagged his head doubtfully.
“Even if I was sober when it happened, I wouldn’t have been by the time the night was over. And I sometimes hold two or three of these things in one week. To remember one little incident, no I’m sorry.”
It might be a little incident to you, I thought bitterly. It was slightly bigger for Eve Prince.
“And you can’t imagine what it was Flower knew about Brookman that you didn’t?”
“Sorry again. As I say, I didn’t own the girl. She led her own life. Mind you, I wouldn’t have thought her private life would include a poor fish like Brookman.”
Nor I, I remembered.
“Well, I guess that about winds it up. I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed. I came here hoping to tie you into this thing on a big scale. Tell me one more thing. Who is the man who put the black on you?”
He hesitated a moment, then said:
“Well, having told you so much, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you that. His name is McCann. They call him——”
“I know what they call him,” I cut in. “I know McCann. Seems as if it’s time we had another chat.”
“You’ve spoken to him about this?” he asked in quick surprise.
“Not about this. Not directly. I knew he was in this somewhere and he told me a beautiful story that put me right off the track. He’ll be surprised to see me again so soon.”
Somerset said anxiously.
“You’ll remember he can do me a lot of harm? I mean, from my point of view the whole thing is a waste of time if McCann informs on me in the end.”
I got up to go.
“Sorry about that. But somebody was bound to get to him sooner or later. Half the goons in town are out looking for him now. I’m one of the few people who know where he’s hiding. If I can keep you out of it, I will. That’s my best offer.”
His face was woebegone.
“Well, I’ve been pretty lucky so far. Maybe it’ll hold. You’ll try to keep me in touch?”
“This I’ll do,” I promised. “If I can see there’s no way of keeping the cops away from you, I’ll try to get word to you. There may be just time for you to blow town.”
“That’s a very generous offer and I thank you for it. But I’m a little heavy for running these days. I’ll just wish you every success and keep my fingers crossed.”
I left him there, a great mountain of a man waiting for events to catch up on him, events over which he no longer had any pretence of control.
My case was different. It was up to me to make events happen if this thing was ever going to come out right. If I’d known what the end would be, maybe I’d have quit right then.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHIRALEE O’CONNOR had changed these past few hours. She wore a chiffon house robe caught at the throat by a diamond clip, otherwise swinging around her like a cape. Underneath there was a black halter bra and tight black hip length toreador pants. This was the girl in the photographs, and I could see where Legs McCann would be wanting to stay around. She gave me a slow smile, angling herself provocatively against the door.
“So soon? I thought you’d be back, but I ought to warn you he’s still here.”
“That’s too bad. Still, as I’ve come this far, maybe I should have a word with him.”
“Come on in.”
She was very close to me as we entered the apartment. The smell of her was all around me like a warm night in a harem, and I tried to remind myself of why I’d come.
“Hey McCann, there’s a man here to see you,” she called.
I wasn’t sure whether she was standing between me and the strong sunlight from the window by accident or design. The reason didn’t matter, the effect did.
“I’m the one over here,” came McCann’s voice.
Reluctantly I looked away from the floor show. He was dressed ready for the street, except he wasn’t wearing a jacket.
“Didn’t expect you back so soon, Preston. You got some news?”
“In a way. Seems as though I didn’t get the whole story last time we talked, McCann. I can’t operate if people don’t level with me.”
He looked puzzled, and switched his gaze to the girl, who shrugged and shook her head.
“What’re you driving at?” he demanded.
“A little matter of blackmail. I wouldn’t have pegged you as that kind of a rat, but we learn all the time.”
“Blackmail.”
He said it softly, but without any inflection of surprise.
“That’s the word,” I agreed. “Seems there’s an old buddy of yours, you served a little time together. You found him here in Monkton and put the bite on him. It’s called blackmail.”
McCann was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as though he could be getting ready to rush me any minute.
“It wasn’t like that,” he muttered. “I told you I wanted stake money for out. We have to blow this city, and that takes dough. I hadn’t got any, he had plenty.”
“That doesn’t change anything. In any case, it’s not my concern. What is my concern is what happened to Brookman and the girl Flower. And that’s where I imagine you have more to tell me.”
“I don’t know nothing about all that,” he said doggedly.
Shiralee decided that my tone wasn’t friendly enough to qualify for a free show. She gathered the transparent robe pointedly but uselessly around her, and went to sit in a corner.
“It doesn’t stack up Legs, not any more,” I told him. “This morning I was inclined to believe you, keep you away from the sharks. Now I don’t feel that friendly. You said you had to talk to Brookman when he owed Jake three grand. That was a month ago.”
“Well, what about it?”
“This about it. You knew Brookman, knew what he looked like. Why should Jake bother to send a different man the second time? No, it was you he sent. You said yourself you were out for a stake. I think you found one. I think Brookman offered you the money. You took it, then blew his head in and dropped him over the Point.”
“Wrong,” he said menacingly, “And I’m getting so I don’t like you any more.”
“I’m bleeding. It accounts for Flower’s murder too. She’d seen you at the Somerset place, when you pressured him for money. Somerset may have told her you worked for Martello, I don’t know, it’ll all come out now. She wanted to tell me something, she arranged to meet me. When I got there, somebody beat me over the head and pushed her out of the window.”
He sneered.
“What a yarn. There isn’t a copper in town would swallow it. If I had pushed her out of that window, why didn’t I make a nice neat job and push you out for an encore?”
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