Fast Buck

‘You’ve fixed me this time, damn you! There’s no way out of it! Olin’s been waiting for something like this to break.’

‘Take it easy,’ Baird said coldly. ‘Maybe they won’t find her. We’l get back to the club and find out what’s been going on. Until we know who’s been talking we can’t do a thing.’

‘Listen!’ Rico said, stiffening. ‘Police sirens!’

Baird stamped on the brake, swung the car across the street with a screech of tortured tyres and drove up a narrow side street. He stopped the car, jumped out and stood on the sidewalk, his hand on his gun.

Fearfully, Rico peered through the broken rear window and looked towards the main street. The clamour of sirens grew louder. They watched three black and white police cars flash past, heading for Union Street.

‘That punk tipped them off fast enough,’ Baird growled as he got back into the Buick. ‘But they still mayn’t find her.’

He drove recklessly along the back streets and reached the club in under five minutes. He drove into the parking lot.

‘Get hold of yourself,’ he said, as he wiped the blood off his neck. ‘Come on out. We may be rushed for time.’

As they got out of the car, the parking attendant came over. He stared at the blood on Baird’s col ar, then his gaze shifted to Rico’s damaged nose, and his eyes popped.

‘Some drunk threw a bot le at the car,’ Baird said. ‘Smashed the rear window.’

‘Gee!’ the at endant exclaimed. ‘What did he want to do that for?’

‘Anyone been asking for me, Tim?’ Rico said, holding his handkerchief across his face.

‘Mr Dal as wanted you. I told him you’d gone home. He said he’d try your apartment.’

‘Got another car, Rico?’ Baird asked sharply. ‘We may have to go out again.’

Rico gulped.

‘There’s the Packard.’

‘Get it around the rear entrance,’ Baird said to the parking attendant. ‘We may be leaving in a hurry.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Baird caught hold of Rico’s, arm and hustled him to the rear entrance.

‘Can we trust that guy?’

‘Yes,’ Rico said. ‘Tim’s al right. He’l do anything for me.’

‘That’s swel ,’ Baird said sarcastical y. ‘Dallas fired that shot! He must have come here to see the red-head, found her missing and traced us to the waterfront. I must have been crazy to have used that damned car of yours. A blind man could identify it.’

Rico pushed open the door of his office and went in. He turned on the lights and went over to the cellarette. With a shaking hand he poured two whiskies, gave Baird one and gulped down the other. He poured more whisky into his glass and then flopped into a chair.

‘You got me into this,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to get me out of it.’

‘It’l be easy if they don’t find her, but if they do…’ Baird shrugged. ‘Can’t you find out what’s happening?’

Rico gulped down his second whisky, picked up the telephone and dialled a number. After a slight pause, he said, ‘That you, Sam? This is Rico. Listen, I want you to get down to Pinder’s End fast. The cops are there. Find out what they’re doing and cal back. It’s worth fifty if you give me some fast action.’

He hung up and looked at Baird.

‘Sam’l find out. He’l cal me back.’

‘Where’s that five grand?’ Baird demanded. ‘Get it, and get hold of every buck in the place. Get moving: we may have to dust, and dust fast!’

Rico licked his dry lips.

‘What do you mean? I can’t just walk out of here. It’s my living. What are you talking about?’

‘Get the dough!’ Baird snarled. ‘You can stay here if you want to, but if they fish her out of the river, I’m going to be wel out of reach.’

Rico closed his eyes. He had visions of Olin cornering him. He saw the room at headquarters with its one blinding light, and the big coppers crowding around him with their blackjacks. He started out of his chair, sweat running down his face.

‘Where can I go?’ he yammered, catching hold of Baird’s coat front. ‘What about the club? What the hell am I going to do?’

Baird threw him off.

‘You can come with me to Red River Basin. That’s where I’m going,’ he said. ‘Have you forgot en?

There’s half a mil ion or more to be picked up there, and it’s where Olin can’t get at us. What do you care about this lousy club if you can get your hands on money like that?’

Rico gulped and gaped at Baird.

‘It’l turn out to be another of your bright ideas,’ he whined. ‘How do I know I shan’t be in a worse jam?’

‘You couldn’t be in a worse jam,’ Baird said brutal y. ‘Get moving. Collect all the dough you can lay hands on, and make it fast.’