He tried to speak, but couldn’t quite make it. I watched his lips move and I put my ear close to them, but I couldn’t hear what he was trying to say.
But he had to talk. He couldn’t go like that without telling me what had happened and who had done this. So I bolted to the sitting room and poured two Inches of Scotch into a glass and rushed back to him.
“Come on, Doc,” I said, lifting his head. “Get hold of yourself.”
The whisky did the trick, but I could see he was going fast. My only hope now was to keep him alive long enough to hear what had happened.
I could see he wanted to talk and I could see he was making a tremendous effort.
“You were right. She wasn’t Myra,” he whispered at last. “She attacked me soon after you left. I asked for It, I should have waited. Look out for her, Ross, she’s dangerous. Its the way I thought. She’s the bad one.” He closed his eyes and I thought he had gone, but he was only resting for a second or so.
I couldn’t really believe that it was possible and yet I knew the Myra we had worked with and fooled with could never have done this to him.
He began speaking again, “They’ll try and pin this on Myra,” he said falteringly. “You’ve got to cover it up somehow, Ross. I told you this might happen. Where’s Myra? What’s happened to her?”
“Now don’t worry, Doc,” I said. “I’ll fix it. You just relax. I’ll get a doctor for you. You’ll be all right.”
“You’ve got to find her and get her an alibi,” Doc went on. “Don’t call the cops until you’ve been through the place and cleaned up anything that might connect her with this. The other one’s bad. You’ve got to catch her and get rid of her before the end of the month. Don’t let her merge into Myra again. She’ll try and do it after the full moon.”
I couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but there was nothing else to do but to listen. His voice was getting weaker and he died as Sam walked in.
When Sam saw Doc he ran over to him, his eyes scared.
“He’s gone, Sam,” I said, getting off the bed. And then I realized the hopelessness of trying to explain to him how it had happened. But, I had to do it. Sam already knew too much and the thought of trying to get this fantastic business into his thick head appalled me.
Bogle took one look at Doc, then he turned and grabbed me. His grip nearly ripped the coat and shirt off my back. I thought he was going to have some kind of a fit. His face was dark with congested blood and his eyes were wild.
“Who did it?” he said, ramming me against the wall. “Open up, you punk, who did it?”
I knew it wouldn’t do to tell him. He wasn’t in a state to cope with a story like that. So I said I didn’t know and tried to break his grip. It was like heaving against the teeth of a bear— trap.
“Take it easy, Sam,” I said, “this won’t get you anywhere.”
He gave a snort and then shoved me away. I banged against the wall and nearly went over. He returned to Doc and kneeling by him he took his hand. Then he began to cry, so I went out quietly and left them together.
When I got downstairs, I didn’t know what to do. I felt sick about Doc. I felt scared for Myra and I wanted to get my hands on the other girl. I didn’t really think of her as the other girl, but as someone who had killed Doc. I went into the sitting room and poured myself out a stiff glass of whisky. Then I sat down and tried to think.
A murder had been committed. That meant the cops. It meant trying to explain something to them that I couldn’t explain to myself. If I didn’t get my explanation over, then Myra would be on the spot. The bloodstained dress was enough to set the law working on her right away. I finished my whisky and picked up the dress. Doc had said to destroy any clue that might point to her. Well, this was the first one to go.
Then the dress was snatched out of my hand by Bogle who had entered silently. He took one look at the bloodstain and he knew she had done it. “Where is she?” he said quietly.
I always looked on Bogle as a harmless sort of a jerk. But not now. He looked like a killer and he looked half crazy.
“We’ve got to talk about this,” I said. “Have a drink, Sam. It’ll pull you together.”
“So she killed him, did she?” he said, through his teeth. “She ain’t going to get away with it. That little punk was good to me. Him and me got along fine until you came along. You and her. You think a lot of that broad, don’t you? Well there won’t be much of her to think about when I’m through.”
“Don’t be a fool, Sam,” I said. “I know how you feel about Doc. He was a swell guy. But she didn’t kill him.”
“What’s this?” he held up the dress.
“Oh, I know it looks like she killed him, but she didn’t.”
“The cops can work it out,” he said, “I’m going to get a load of law here and let ’em find her. Then if she slips off the hot seat, I’ll fix her,” and he went over to the telephone.
If the cops came and found that dress, then I knew nothing could save Myra. She’d be hounded all over the country.
I jerked him round, “Leave the cops out of this,” I said, “we’ll handle it, Sam. Kruger’s behind it. Can’t you see that?”
Bogle wrenched himself away. “Do you think I’m crazy?” he said, “I know you’re nuts about her, but that ain’t stopping me. If we don’t bring the cops in, how do you think we’ll explain about Doc.”
I shrugged. “Well, if that’s how you feel about it,” I said, and moved so that I was behind him.
I didn’t like doing it, but it was the only way. I had to have a little time to clear things and make sure that Myra hadn’t left anything for the police besides the dress.
But Bogle was expecting trouble. He turned and faced me. “Don’t start anything,” he said viciously. “It won’t get you nowhere.”
“There’s no harm trying,” I said and swung over a punch that caught him on his cheekbone. He swayed back as my fist landed, so he rode most of the steam out of it. Then he moved in and his fist caught me in the ribs, sending me against the wall. Bogle could punch all right.
He lowered his hands. “Cut it out,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you and if you make me mad you’re going to get hurt plenty.”
I thought that was likely. But I could see the mess that was ahead if I didn’t stop Bogle.
I edged forward, “Can’t you use your head, Sam?” I pleaded, looking for an opening to land my right. “I tell you Myra didn’t kill him. She loved that old guy as much as you did. She wouldn’t touch him. You ought to know that.”
“Yeah?” Bogle said. “Then how come that dress? We left her with Doc, didn’t we? Where is she now?”
“Kruger’s got her, you fat fool,” I said, suddenly realizing that we were both wasting time.
“Don’t you see?” I went on, Kruger or some of his mob came here. For some reason they wanted Myra. Doc tried to stop them and they killed him. While we’re bellyaching, they’re taking her further away.”
For a brief moment, Sam looked as if he was going to fall for it, then his eyes darkened again. “The dress,” he said impatiently. “Why should Kruger want her? A guy as big as him wouldn’t want her.”
Then we both saw it at once. How I missed it in the first place I don’t know. I guess it was the shock of seeing the dress and then finding Doc that had blinded me to it. On the mantle-piece was a white envelope, propped up against the clock.
We both made a rush for it. I nearly reached it, but Bogle suddenly lashed out and his fist caught me below the ear, sending me over. It was like the Empire State Building had fallen on me and I don’t know how long I was out. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it was long enough for Bogle to open the letter and read it.