This Way for a Shroud

A short, thick-set man got out of the car, looked uneasily to right and left, then walked up the steps and rapped on the door.

The guard who opened the door gaped, and his florid face changed colour.

"Why, Mr. Maurer . . ." he gasped.

"Shut your goddamn trap!" Maurer snarled. "Where's Gollowitz?"

"In Mr. Seigel's office," the guard said, stepping back hurriedly.

Maurer's swarthy face was tight with rage, and there was a bleak murderous expression in his eyes.

He walked down the passage, paused for a moment outside Seigel's office, his head bent to listen. A murmur of voices came through the door panel, and Maurer's face tightened. He turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The office was full of tobacco smoke. Seated near the desk in a semi-circle were Seigel, McCann and Ferrari. Gollowitz sat behind the desk, a cigar in his fat white fingers.

The four men looked around sharply as Maurer came in. The only one who didn't react to his sudden appearance was Ferrari. The other three stared at him as if they were seeing a ghost.

"Why, Jack . . ." Gollowitz gasped, his face going white. "For God's sake, Jack . . . !"

Maurer came in and shut the door. His right hand was buried deep in his bulging coat pocket. He stood looking at the four men, his little eyes insane with rage.

"What's he doing here?" he snarled, pointing at Ferrari.

"Jack! You – you can't come back here!" Gollowitz said, getting unsteadily to

his feet. "Did anyone see you? Don't you know there's a warrant out for your arrest?"

"What's he doing here?" Maurer repeated, his voice deadly.

"He – he's come to take care of the girl – the Coleman girl," Gollowitz spluttered.

"Did you send for him?" Maurer asked.

"The Syndicate thought . . ."

"—the Syndicate! Did you send for him?"

"What else could I do?" Gollowitz wailed. He had a horrible feeling that Maurer was going to shoot him. "We had to get Weiner and the girl. He was the only one who could get at them!"

Maurer glared at Gollowitz, his mouth working.

"You goddamn fool! Couldn't you handle a little thing like that without calling in outside help?"

"It wasn't possible."

McCann said quietly, "Take it easy, Mr. Maurer. You shouldn't have come back. Every cop in town's on the look-out for you. Forest has cooked up a castiron case against you."

"Yeah," Maurer snarled, "thanks to the bungling way you three have handled it." He didn't include Ferrari in the wave of his hand. "I've come back to handle it myself! For the first time in fifteen years there's a warrant out for me! The first time in fifteen years! That's what happens when I take my hand off the helm!"

"We did what we could," Gollowitz said earnestly. He felt the danger was receding. "We got Weiner. Now we're going to get the girl. It'll be okay, Jack, only you must keep out of this."

"I'm not keeping out of it," Maurer said, and walked to the desk.

Gollowitz hurriedly stepped away, and Maurer took his place behind the desk. He sat down.

Gollowitz pulled up a chair and took his place with the others. Sweat beads covered his forehead. He was sick with frustrated rage and fear. To be suddenly shoved aside to lose his authority in a few seconds, to be deprived of his position which he had believed to be unassailable for a long time, was a devastating blow to his pride.

Ferrari caught Maurer's eye. The two men looked at each other. Seigel, an interested spectator, was startled to see what could have been uneasy fear in Maurer's eyes. Ferrari was completely unruffled and indifferent.

"Hello, Maurer," he said softly.

Maurer shifted his eyes away.

"Hello, Ferrari."

"Big Joe sends his love," Ferrari said, and smiled.

Maurer nodded. He knew how dangerous Ferrari was, and he was dismayed to find him here. He had to make an effort to get a grip on the situation.

"What the hell have you three been playing at?" he demanded. "Why haven't you got rid of the girl? It's three weeks since I've been away. She should have been hit days ago."

"Not so easy," Seigel said. "We don't know where she is, for a start."

"You knew where she was!" Maurer snarled. "Why didn't you hit her then?"

"We took Weiner first," Gollowitz said quickly. "He was the easiest."

"The easiest! Don't you realize she is the dangerous one? With her out of the way Weiner's evidence wouldn't have amounted to a thing! You should have taken her first!"

Gollowitz had long ago realized his mistake of killing Weiner instead of Frances, and it bothered him that Maurer had so quickly spotted the weakness of his strategy.

"You know she's talked?" McCann said. "She claims to have seen you knock off the Arnot woman. That's why there's a warrant out for you."

Maurer's face turned a dusky red.

"Then she's lying! I didn't touch June!"

"They have pretty solid evidence," McCann said slowly.

"Enough to convince any jury."

Maurer looked at Gollowitz.

"What evidence?"

Gollowitz told him of Frances's statement and about the gold pencil.

"We tried to get the pencil," he concluded, "but they beat us to it."

Maurer stiffened.

"What do you mean – beat you to it ?"