He trod on the starter and the engine woke into life.
This could be big enough not only to unseat Motley, it’s big enough to unseat O’Brien, he thought. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for, and brother! I’ve got to handle it right!
He engaged gear and drove fast to headquarters.
CHAPTER IV
I
Sean O’Brien drove his big Cadillac along a lonely stretch of the river bank. The dirt road was pot-holed and dusty. No traffic came that way since the canning factory had closed down. The few remaining sheds and the broken-down jetty made a convenient place to leave a car and board the motorboat out to Tux’s cruiser.
He drove his car into the rickety lean-to shed, cut the engine and got out of the car. He walked down to the jetty where the motorboat was waiting.
Willow Point, an ancient, rusty, eighty-foot cruiser, lay at anchor, half a mile from the mud flats. Ostensibly used by Tux to fish from when he happened to be in the mood for fishing, it also provided a convenient and safe hide-out for any of Tux’s friends who were in trouble.
O’Brien climbed into the motorboat, nodded to the mulatto who sat in the stern and settled himself into the bucket seat.
The mulatto cast off, shoved the nose of the boat clear of the jetty, men started the engine and headed across the muddy estuary towards Willow Point.
Tux was leaning on the rail as the motorboat came alongside. He was thick-set, immensely powerful and swarthy. His washed-out blue eyes moved continuously and restlessly. His hard, brutal face was fleshy, and he badly needed a shave. He wore an open-necked black shirt, dirty white trousers and a yachting cap set jauntily over his right eye.
He was the only survivor of O’Brien’s drug-trafficking days: a dangerous man with a knife or a gun. O’Brien found him invaluable. He paid him well, and he had never known Tux to fall down on any job, no matter how hard or dangerous.
Tux lifted a languid finger to his cap as O’Brien climbed on board.
“Where is he?” O’Brien asked.
“Below,” Tux told him, and jerked his thumb to the companion ladder. Seated on an empty box, guarding the way down, was a big negro, naked to the waist, who grinned sheepishly at O’Brien, then got up and moved away from the door.
“What happened?” O’Brien asked.
“A little trouble,” Tux returned indifferently. He had spent all his life dealing with trouble. “I had to tap him, but we got away without being seen. He tried to get rough as we were bringing him over, so Solly had to tap him again.”
“Is he hurt?” O’Brien said sharply.
“Just a tap,” Tux said, shrugging. He was an expert at tapping people. He knew just where and how hard to hit them. “Nothing to it. Want to talk to him, boss?”
“Yes.”
Tux led the way below deck, along a passage to a cabin. He took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door and shoved it open. He walked in and O’Brien followed him.
Johnny Dorman lay on the bunk, one long leg hanging over the side. He opened his eyes as O’Brien came to stand at his side.
O’Brien looked at him, his face expressionless.
Johnny was uncannily like his sister, but without her strength of character. He had the same well-shaped nose and the green eyes, and his thick hair was the same shade as Gilda’s.
A good-looking weakling, O’Brien thought. My luck she has to have a punk like this for a brother.
“Hello, Johnny,” he said.
Johnny didn’t move. He stared up at O’Brien, his green eyes watchful.
“What’s the idea, Sean?” he asked. “Gilda’s going to love this when I tell her.”
O’Brien pulled up a straight-back chair and sat down. He waved to Tux, who went out, shutting the door behind him. Then he took out a gold cigarette-case and offered it to Johnny.
After a moment’s hesitation, Johnny took a cigarette and accepted a light.
“We won’t talk about Gilda just yet,” O’Brien said, “We’ll talk about you. How are you, Johnny?”
“Before that nigger knocked me around I was fine,” Johnny said. “You don’t imagine you’re going to get away with this, do you?”
“I get away with most things,” O’Brien returned. “I hear the doctors have given you a clean bill of health.”
“So what? They would have given it to me before only they wanted to make as much out of me as they could,” Johnny said with a sneer. “They’re all alike. All they think about is what they can get out of me.”
“I was under the impression your sister was paying the bills,” O’Brien said quietly. “Nice of you to show so much interest.”
Johnny laughed.
“That cat won’t jump,” he added. “Gilda’s got all the money she wants at the moment; I haven’t. If she had to go into a nuthouse, I’d take care of her. Besides, she’s going to marry you, isn’t she? She’ll have millions. It’s not too much to expect her to pay my doctor’s bills, is it?”
O’Brien had to make an effort to control his temper.
“You’re a nasty little rat, aren’t you, Johnny?” he said. “I’m damned glad you’re not my brother.”
“But I’m going to be your brother-in-law,” Johnny jeered. “That is if Gilda will take you after what you’ve done to me. You must have been crazy to pull a stunt like this, but maybe I-won’t say anything about it. It’ll cost you ten grand for me to keep my mouth shut. I don’t suppose you’ll find any trouble in raising ten grand, will you?”
“No trouble at all,” O’Brien said mildly. “But you’re not getting anything out of me. I’m surprised you haven’t asked why you’re here.”
Into the deep green eyes came an uneasy expression.
“Well, okay: why am I here?”
“Obviously because the cure hasn’t worked. You are still a mental case, Johnny.”
Johnny’s face went white and his eyes glittered.
“Yeah? You don’t scare me. You know damn well you won’t marry Gilda if you try to push me around. The doctors say I’m all right, and I am all right!”
“Then why did you kill Fay Carson?” O’Brien asked. “Not a very good recommendation for your sanity, is it?”
Johnny looked away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said uneasily.
“Oh, yes, you do. Last night you went to Fay Carson’s apartment and stabbed her with an ice-pick.”
“You’re crazy! Last night I was with you, and you’re stuck with it, Sean.”
O’Brien shook his head.
“That won’t work. I was at a party last night. Why did you kill her?”
“Who said I did?” Johnny asked.
“Why try and bluff with me?” O’Brien said curtly. “You threatened to kill her before you went into the home, the moment you come out she’s murdered. Do you imagine you can get away with it?”
Johnny stared at him.
“I know I can get away with it!” he said.
“So you admit it, then?” O’Brien said.
“Okay, I admit it,” Johnny returned. “I said I’d finish her and I like to keep a promise. She had enough warning. She went on with her dirty game and there wasn’t any other logical dung to do with her.”
O’Brien hadn’t had any doubt that Johnny had killed Fay, but he hadn’t expected him to be quite so brazen about it.
“And how long do you imagine it’ll be before the police get on to you?”
Johnny laughed.
“Be your age! What’s the use of having a political boss as a future brother-in-law if one can’t knock off a dirty bitch when she needs killing? I’ve made it easy for you. There was a guy with her when I killed her. He can take the rap. It’ll be easy for you to shift the rap on to him. You’ve got the Commissioner in your pocket, haven’t you? He’ll do what you tell him.”