Tiger By The Tail

Of all the filthy luck! he thought bitterly. How could they have got on to this guy so fast? What a bit of luck that he had waited instead of tackling him at once. He would have been in plenty of trouble if Donovan had found him inside the bungalow.

He watched the two detectives walk up the path and ring on the bell. He saw the door open and the young fellow come out on the step. The three men stood talking for some minutes, then to Sweeting's surprise, the two detectives turned abruptly away and walked back to their car.

What did it mean? he asked himself, peering around the edge of his newspaper. Why hadn't they arrested him ?

He watched the police car disappear around the corner, and, getting to his feet, he picked up Leo and walked hurriedly to the corner of the street to make sure the police car had left the district.

He saw the car slow down and pull up outside a house, and the two detectives get out. He watched them speak to a fat, heavily built man who was in the garden.

After some minutes Donovan went on to the house while the fat man and the other detective remained in the garden.

All this intrigued Sweeting. He leaned against a tree, watching, but being careful to keep out of sight.

Some time passed, the Donovan came out and beckoned to the fat man. They all went into the house and shut the door.

Sweeting continued to wait. An hour dragged by, then the front door opened and the two detectives came out, walked down the path to their car and drove away.

Completely baffled as to why they hadn't made an arrest, Sweeting returned to the bench seat opposite Ken's bungalow and sat down again.

Who was the fat guy? he wondered, and why had the cops called on him? Why hadn't they arrested the young fellow ? Even from this distance you could see how scared he had been. Had he satisfied them he hadn't been in Fay's apartment? Were they likely to return?

Sweeting decided to wait a little longer.

It was beginning to grow dusk when he saw the fat guy coming down the street.

Sweeting eyed him with interest.

My word! he thought, he looks as if he's had a shock.

He watched him pause outside the bungalow's gate, open it and walk up the path. The young fellow came to the door and let the fat guy in.

Sweeting waited.

Perhaps half an hour went by, then suddenly the front door opened and the fat guy came down the path. He walked hurriedly and unsteadily, his face was white and twitching.

Sweeting could contain himself no longer. He got to his feet, picked Leo up and crossed the road. At the gate, he looked to right and left. He was a little nervous in case the cops should suddenly appear. If it hadn't been for the urgent need to raise the rent money, he would have postponed his visit until the following day, but he couldn't afford to delay.

He lifted the latch and walked softly up the path to the front door. Setting Leo down on the step, he reached forward and pressed the bell with a dirty thumb.

II

Raphael Sweeting wasn't the only man in Flint City who had a nose for a fast buck. Paradise Louie, or to give him his correct name, Louis Manchini, also had talents in that direction.

He had read the Stop Press announcement in the Herald, and had

instantly realized that Johnny had killed Fay.

He remembered that Johnny had come to him last night to ask for Fay's address. If Fay hadn't recently repulsed Louie's attentions, and no woman turned Louie down without regretting it, he wouldn't have told Johnny where he could find her, but it seemed to him poetic justice to give this wild-eyed nut the information he wanted.

Louie had hoped Johnny would beat Fay up as he had beaten her up before going to the home. He certainly hadn't imagined Johnny would kill her, and the news came as a shock to him.

He dropped the newspaper on his dusty desk, pushed back his chair and groped for a cigarette.

Louie was thirty-seven, thin, swarthy, with greasy black hair, a black pencil-line moustache and jowls that turned blue towards evening.

He realized that if he informed the cops that Johnny had been enquiring for Fay, even the cops dumb as they were, would jump to the conclusion that Johnny had killed her. The information he had was therefore valuable, and it was up to him to find the highest bidder.

He thought it unlikely that Johnny would stay around in town, and besides, Johnny never had any money. But his sister had.

Louie smiled.

This could be turned into something if handled right. Gilda was some dish. She was earning good money making gramophone discs and singing in the smart nightclubs. She might be persuaded not only to part with a sack of dough but she might, with a little pressure, become Louie's girl friend.

Louie lived for women. He had a lot of success, but he was sharply aware that so far his women weren't class. Now Gilda was class. The set-up could definitely be turned into something outstanding.