‘You won’t get twenty-four hours’, Bacon said. ‘You won’t get an hour.’
From the corner of his eye, Murdock saw Damin move in his chair. When he turned the private detective was putting his hat aside.
‘I think,’ he said, uncrossing his legs and looking at Bacon, ‘that we could take this jerk, Lieutenant.’
Very slowly then he started to push out of the chair.
‘Don’t try it!’ French’s voice was thin and deadly.
‘If you’re going to shoot that thing you’re going to shoot’, Damin said.
‘Take it easy’, Bacon said, but even as he spoke he stood up, his hands dangling at his sides. ‘Let me give you some advice, Syd.’
‘Keep it. Stand still and stay alive.’
Murdock looked from one to the other, feeling the stiffness working up the back of his legs. He did not know about Damin but he’d seen Bacon face a gun before. It was Bacon’s job. He was sizing up French before making any move, and now Murdock began to talk, not so much to get information as to get French’s attention.
‘What made you think you had to kill Audrey, Syd?’
French’s eyes flicked to him and slid back. When he made no reply, Murdock turned toward the couch. Both the girl and Jeff Elliott were on their feet, Elliott holding her by the arm and standing slightly in front of her.
‘Why, Audrey?’ Murdock said.
The girl wet her lips. She was scared and trying not to show it and when she spoke Murdock could hardly hear her.
‘I—I don’t know. You asked me that before.’
‘I asked you what Garvin had told you. You tried to remember. Maybe you did the best you could. Now I’m talking about Sydney. You went to see him. Garvin fixed it for you. What did French ask you?’
‘Lots of things.’ She rubbed her fingertips across her forehead as though to activate her memory. ‘Like how I met Neil, and about the trip, and what he talked about, and if I knew why Neil was coming to Boston.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him yes.’
‘What else? Think. What exactly did French say?’
‘He said he guessed I knew quite a lot about Neil and I said——’ She stopped, brows lifting. Murdock told her to go on and she said: ‘I really didn’t mean it because it wasn’t true, but I said I did; I said I knew all about him.’
Murdock let his breath out, remembering his earlier talks with the girl and the way she looked at him and how he never could be sure just what her eyes were saying. She had made an offhand statement, trying to impress French so that he would know she was a good friend of Garvin’s and give her an audition. And French, already suspicious and labouring under a guilty conscience, taking her at her word; maybe even thinking she was holding back in a polite sort of blackmail.
‘You couldn’t be sure, could you, Syd?’ he said to French. ‘You were afraid of what she might know. You saw her talking to Jeff that night at dinner and so you took Vivian home early and went around to look at the Forbes Hotel and the roof that overlooked her room.’
French had started to back toward the door, no longer watching Murdock or even listening to what he said. He was watching Bacon and Damin, and now Damin moved a little to one side and slightly forward.
‘To hell with all this chatter’, he said. ‘I think we can take him, Lieutenant.’
‘Stay out of it!’ Bacon snapped.
‘I’m already in it’, Damin said. ‘I’ve been in it. When somebody knocks off your partner you have to do something about it or you’re washed up. I told you that before.’
French stopped with his back against the door. ‘I’m going out’, he said.
He reached behind him and felt for the knob. His face was stiff and grey, the moustache flat. The gun was steady in his hand and his narrowed eyes were brightly desperate.
‘I’m going to give you some advice, Syd.’ Bacon spoke evenly, measuring his words. He took a slow step, hands still at his sides. ‘I’m going to level with you. Make a break for it and you won’t last three minutes. That’s a promise.’
Right then Murdock knew he was scared. It wasn’t just the tension or excitement any more; it was something else, an instinctive warning that told him French would certainly fire if he was crowded. It was all there in his face, the set of his shoulders, the way he held the gun. And what worried Murdock most was what Bacon might do.
He heard French turn the knob.
Bacon said: ‘I’ve got two men outside.’
French opened the door. He started to sidle through the opening and Bacon stood as he was, poised and ready but unmoving. He made one more plea.
‘Don’t try it, Syd.’
For an instant French hesitated, his hand sliding along the edge of the panel. Then he was gone, and the door slammed, and suddenly Bacon was moving one way while Damin moved the other.
Two long strides took Damin to the door. He opened it, started through, and then flattened himself against the casing as a gun hammered somewhere below and a splinter flew past his head.
With that, Murdock wheeled and grabbed his camera. He heard Bacon at the window, saw him try to raise it and then, gun in hand now, smash the pane clear with two quick blows. He was leaning out before the glass hit the sidewalk.
‘He’s coming out’, he called. ‘With a gun. Watch him!’
Murdock was a step away from that window when he heard the shout outside. He watched Bacon level his service pistol and then the shots came, not from Bacon but from below, first one and then two more, simultaneously and on the heels of the first.
After that there was only quiet outside and Bacon was turning from the window and bumping against Murdock in his haste to get to the door.
Murdock leaned out of the window. On the sidewalk below and about six feet from the entrance, Sydney French sprawled face down, his legs bent like a man still trying to run. Ten feet or more behind him and standing at the kerb was a plain-clothes man. He had a gun in one hand, his hat in the other. Up ahead, just stepping from behind a parked car, was Sergeant Keogh.
Murdock took his angle shot. Unable to get all three men the first time, he switched bulbs and waited until the two officers approached the body. He shot his second picture, a third when Bacon came out; then he wheeled and headed for the door.
When he came out on the sidewalk Damin stood to one side and Bacon was just straightening up beside the crumpled figure. He shook his head and holstered his gun. He looked off up the street with distance in his gaze and said, to no one in particular:
‘I guess that’s it.’
‘I yelled at him’, Keogh said. ‘Didn’t I, Ed?’
The other plain-clothes man was examining a ragged hole in the brim of his hat. He poked at it with the muzzle of his gun.
‘He had the first shot’, Ed said. ‘That’s all he was entitled to.’
When Murdock took another picture Bacon looked at him. He looked at the camera and spoke wearily.
‘That’s about enough, isn’t it? Not that you didn’t earn them … Stick around, Saul’, he said to Damin; then nodded at Keogh. ‘Stay here and keep the citizens off the sidewalk. I’ll phone in.’
He started slowly for the entrance, tall and thin and slumped a little now around the shoulders. When he reached the doorway he stopped and turned to inspect Murdock, who had followed behind. He took his time, Bacon did, and there was no censure in his grey eyes. When he finally spoke his voice had a quality that suggested his thoughts had been a long way off.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘the Canning crowd pulled it off after all. Damin, too.’
‘What?’ Murdock said, unable to follow the digression.
‘The Canning crowd’, Bacon said. ‘French gave them a real break trying to run for it. They’re clean.’ He shook his head but there was no great regret in his words. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I’ll never be able to pin anything on them. Damin either. Brother, did they stick together.’
Murdock thought about it on the
way upstairs. Everything the Cannings and Elliotts had done after they discovered the body in the closet had been wrong, ethically and morally. They had, technically, broken the law in many ways but they had protected the bride and groom and the family name, and now, considering all this and the reasons behind it, Murdock forgot his earlier annoyance and resentment, granting them instead the accolade of a certain admiration.
Bacon went directly to the telephone once they entered the living-room. Over in one corner and paying no attention to anyone but themselves, stood Jeff and Audrey. She had her head down and the man’s arms were about her, and he was speaking words of comfort, or love, Murdock was never sure, in a voice meant only for her.
They glanced up when Bacon began to rumble into the telephone. They stepped apart and Jeff asked about French and Murdock told him. Audrey managed a strained smile. The green eyes Murdock had never quite been able to fathom seemed to say that she liked him as much as ever, but when he saw her look at Elliott he had all the answer he needed.
Now, turning to wait for Bacon to finish with the telephone, and considering again what had happened during the past three days, he asked himself a question, not bitterly or with any great sense of injustice but simply as a matter of curiosity. How was it that he got mixed up in things like this? What did he ever get out of it?
Then, as a siren of an ambulance sounded in the street below, he had his answer.
For all at once a new impatience began to work on him as Bacon continued to talk. He had pictures, didn’t he? Maybe the afternoon sheets could still break the story but he had the pictures. That’s what he got paid for, wasn’t it?
He reached for the telephone as Bacon put it aside. He dialled quickly. Ten seconds later he was asking the Courier operator for the city desk.
THE END
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1955 by George Harmon Coxe
978-1-4532-3337-5
cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa
This edition published in 2011 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media
180 Varick Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
THE KENT MURDOCK MYSTERIES
FROM MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
AND OPEN ROAD MEDIA
MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
Otto Penzler, owner of the Mysterious Bookshop in Manhattan, founded the Mysterious Press in 1975. Penzler quickly became known for his outstanding selection of mystery, crime, and suspense books, both from his imprint and in his store. The imprint was devoted to printing the best books in these genres, using fine paper and top dust-jacket artists, as well as offering many limited, signed editions.
Now the Mysterious Press has gone digital, publishing ebooks through MysteriousPress.com.
MysteriousPress.com. offers readers essential noir and suspense fiction, hard-boiled crime novels, and the latest thrillers from both debut authors and mystery masters. Discover classics and new voices, all from one legendary source.
FIND OUT MORE AT
WWW.MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
FOLLOW US:
@emysteries and Facebook.com/MysteriousPressCom
MysteriousPress.com is one of a select group of publishing partners of Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
The Mysterious Bookshop, founded in 1979, is located in Manhattan’s Tribeca neighborhood. It is the oldest and largest mystery-specialty bookstore in America.
The shop stocks the finest selection of new mystery hardcovers, paperbacks, and periodicals. It also features a superb collection of signed modern first editions, rare and collectable works, and Sherlock Holmes titles. The bookshop issues a free monthly newsletter highlighting its book clubs, new releases, events, and recently acquired books.
58 Warren Street
[email protected]
(212) 587-1011
Monday through Saturday
11:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m.
FIND OUT MORE AT:
www.mysteriousbookshop.com
FOLLOW US:
@TheMysterious and Facebook.com/MysteriousBookshop
SUBSCRIBE:
The Mysterious Newsletter
Find a full list of our authors and
titles at www.openroadmedia.com
FOLLOW US
@OpenRoadMedia
Crimson Clue Page 19
