Part 33 (2/2)
”He must be crazy. He came here expecting me to hide him. He says Johnny shot a policeman and is wounded. He says you planned to murder Johnny and he rescued him.”
”That's a laugh,” O'Brien said. ”Get police headquarters.” He waved to the telephone. ”They'll be glad to see him.”
”Wait!” Ken said. ”You must listen to me.” He was looking at Gilda. ”I heard this man . . .”
”Shut up!” O'Brien said, threatening him with the gun. ”Open your mouth again and you'll get shot!” To Gilda he went on, ”Get Motley. He'll handle this.”
As she moved over to the telephone, the frontdoor bell rang. She looked quickly at O'Brien, her hand hovering over the telephone.
”Are you expecting anyone?” he asked, as the bell rang again.
”No.”
”Here, take the gun and watch this guy. I'll see who it is.”
He gave her the gun, walked into the hall and opened the front door.
Lieutenant Adams stood in the pa.s.sage, his hands in his pockets. His face didn't betray his surprise at seeing O'Brien, but he was surprised.
”What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?” O'Brien rasped.
”Holland's here, isn't he?” Adams said mildly.
”How do you know?”
”I got a message.”
O'Brien stood aside.
”You'd better come in and take charge of him.”
Adams walked into the sitting room, looked at the gun in Gilda's hand, then at Ken. He gave Ken a sly wink.
”This is the man who killed Fay Carson,” O'Brien said. ”Charge him and take him away.”
Adams shook his head.
”He didn't kill her,” he said.
”I'm telling you he did!” O'Brien snapped. ”The Commissioner has all the evidence he needs for a conviction. Don't argue with me! Charge him and take him away.”
”The Commissioner got his information from Sergeant Donovan, who is invariably inaccurate,” Adams said, watching Gilda as she laid the gun down on the sideboard.
”If Howard is satisfied, I am. I told you to arrest this man!”
”But he didn't do it. I had instructions to carry out an independent investigation. I've done so and I've cracked the case. This isn't the man.”
”I suppose you are going to tell me Dorman killed her?” O'Brien said angrily.
”No, he didn't, either.”
O'Brien made an impatient gesture.
”Don't be so d.a.m.ned mysterious! Who killed her, then?”
”It's quite a story. The facts . . .”
”I don't want to listen to this,” Gilda said. ”Sean, can't he take this man away ? This has been a shock to me. I want to go to bed.”
”You'll be interested, Miss Dorman,” Adams said before O'Brien could say anything. ”Fay Carson was murdered because you married Maurice Yarde. You can't fail to be interested.”
Gilda stiffened, her mouth tightened into a thin line.
”What did you say?” O'Brien's face flushed. ”Married to Yarde? What the h.e.l.l do you mean?”
Gilda turned to him.
”He's lying! Don't listen to him, Sean. Get them out of here!”
”You can't deny it, Miss Dorman,” Adams said. He sat down in a chair near Ken. ”I had confirmation from Los Angeles not ten minutes ago. You married Maurice Yarde thirteen months ago. You lived with him for four months, then you left him. It's on record.”
Gilda appeared to make an effort to control herself. She shrugged and turned away.
”All right,” she said, her voice harsh. ”So it's on record. It's no business of yours.”
”Yes, it is,” Adams said, crossing one leg over the other. ”Your marriage supplies the motive for Fay Carson's murder.”
Gilda looked at O'Brien, who was standing motionless, his eyes glittering.
”Don't believe him, Sean. He's either mad or drunk!”
”You'd better be careful what you are saying,” O'Brien said to Adams.
”I can produce evidence of her marriage by tomorrow morning,” Adams said indifferently. ”She's wasting time denying it.”
O'Brien went to Gilda, took her arm and looked intently at her.
”Are you married to Yarde, kid?”
She hesitated, then gave a despairing little shrug.
”Yes. I'm sorry, Sean. I should have told you. I'm getting a divorce. I was a fool to have married him, and I've paid for it. I didn't live with him for more than a month before I found out what he was. I was too ashamed to tell you.”
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