This Way for a Shroud

Gollowitz looked at Maurer, his face paling.

"What happened to him?"

"Ferrari was too quick for him, that's what happened. It was a big gamble that didn't come off. I've talked to Big Joe. I explained it was nothing to do with me. He seemed amused that anyone should even try to rub Ferrari out; very amused."

The big Cadillac swung through the open gates of Maurer's estate and drove rapidly up the drive. In the bright morning sunshine, Gollowitz noticed a number of men moving about the grounds.

"Who are these guys?" he asked. "What are they doing here?"

"Just a precaution," Maurer returned. "I don't believe in taking risks. If Ferrari tries any of his tricks on me it'll be just too bad for him."

Gollowitz didn't say anything, but he felt a chill run down his fat spine. Did Maurer really believe these gunmen could protect him from Ferrari if Ferrari once made up his mind to kill him, he wondered. Was he such a blind, arrogant fool?

The car pulled up outside the imposing entrance.

"Okay, Abe, get those lists for me, and be here for lunch. The yacht's standing by. I may be leaving tonight," Maurer said, as he heaved himself out of the car.

"Jack," Gollowitz said huskily, "what's going to happen to me if you go away?"

Maurer stared at him as if he wasn't sure if he had heard aright.

"You?" he said, and frowned. "Well, I guess you'll manage. Maybe Big Joe will find something for you. Maybe he'll give you my job. You're big enough to look after yourself, aren't you?" He grinned wolfishly. "Maybe I might have an idea or two for you when you come back for lunch."

He walked into the house, leaving Gollowitz sitting in a fat hopeless heap in the car. "

Three hard-faced gunmen lounged in the hall. They stiffened to attention when they saw Maurer.

"Stick around, you guys," Maurer said, "and keep your eyes open."

"Sure, boss," one of the men said. "There won't be no trouble."

"There'd better not be," Maurer grunted, and walked into the big sunny lounge.

Dolores stood by the open casement window. She looked slim and lovely in a simple black dress. There were shadows under her eyes, and she was pale.

"Hello, Jack."

"There you are, Dolly," Maurer said. "Get me a drink, will you?"

He joined her at the window and looked down the long terraced garden. Guards stood about on the terraces, some of them cradled rifles under their arms.

"Seigel tried to knock off Ferrari," Maurer said, as Dolores poured a stiff highball. He sank into an armchair, his back to the window. "Ferrari stuck a knife into him. I'm taking a few precautions until Ferrari leaves town."

Dolores didn't say anything. She brought the drink over to Maurer and set it on a small table near him.

"Well, Dolly, this is the last drink I'll have with you, I'm leaving town for good."

"Are you?" she said, in a flat disinterested voice.

"Yes. I'm going to Florida," Maurer said. "I'm kissing the Syndicate good-bye. There are a lot of opportunities for a man with my abilities, money and organization in Florida. I shall have to decide what to do with you."

"You don't have to worry about me," Dolores said, not looking at him. She moved over to the window.

"Oh, I'm not going to worry about you, Dolly," Maurer said, and laughed. "I don't think Abe will make you a good husband. Abe's rather gone to pieces. I think he might meet with a little accident some time to-day. Would you be sorry?"

"No."

"I thought you were hoping he'd take you over, Dolly."

"I wonder what gave you that idea?" Dolores said.

She looked down the long flight of steps that linked one terrace with another. Coming up the steps was a small figure in a black suit and black hat. It was Ferrari. He walked slowly and softly. His hands in his pockets, his face raised, his eyes fixed on the casement windows, he appeared completely unaware of the guards who stood motionless, watching him coming.

He passed one guard, then another. Neither of the men moved. They just stared at him. He came slowly, a tiny menacing figure, moving like a ghost.

"Then I'm wrong?" Maurer said. "Was it Seigel you had your eyes on?"

"No." She came away from the window and walked slowly across the room to the door. "You won't want me to come with you, Jack?"

He looked at her, smiling.

"You won't be going anywhere, Dolly – nowhere at all."

She looked at him thoughtfully, and he was a little surprised to see there was no fear in her exciting eyes.

"I see," she said, opened the door and went into the hall.

There were no guards in the hall.

As she walked slowly up the stairs to her room, she wondered when Big Joe had taken over the organization. He must have moved fast. She wondered, too, what her life would be like with Ferrari.

She went into her bedroom and sat down. Because she had lived with Maurer for four long years, sharing his bed with him, taking his gifts as well as his insults, she felt sick and cold.

She closed her eyes and waited for the sound that would tell her that she was

Ferrari's chattel and Maurer's widow.