Tiger By The Tail

The back of the chair snapped and Tux flattened out on his face.

Johnny jumped forward, grabbed a handful of Tux's thick hair and, lifting Tux's head, he slammed it down on the floor.

Tux gave a strangled grunt and went limp.

The two stood over him, panting.

"Let's get out of here!" Ken gasped. "Come on!"

Johnny gave Tux a hard, vicious kick in the side of his neck, then bending over him, he rolled him over and pulled out Tux's automatic from his hip pocket.

"Come on!" Ken said again.

Johnny followed him along the passage and up on to the deck.

II

The lighted clock on the dashboard showed twenty minutes past eleven as Adams pulled up outside 25 Lessington Avenue.

During the short drive from the hospital he had remained silent, hunched up behind the driving-wheel, while Watson sat beside him, hoping for some explanation which didn't come.

Adams got out of the car and Watson followed him.

They walked up the steps, opened the front door and, with Adams leading, they climbed the stairs to Raphael Sweeting's apartment.

As Adams paused outside the door, he said, "This guy's going to make a statement. Get it down!"

"Yes, sir," Watson said, wondering who the guy might be.

Adams rang the bell and waited.

There was a long delay, then the door opened cautiously and Sweeting, a

damp sponge held to his right eye, looked first at Adams and then at Watson. He seemed to shrivel under Adams' hard stare, and he stepped back hurriedly.

Adams walked into the room, and Watson followed him.

"So this is where you've holed up," Adams said, glancing around the room. "How's business, Raphael?"

"Now look, Lieutenant," Sweeting said urgently, "I'm going straight. How can a guy settle to anything if you cops keep pestering him?"

"I wouldn't know," Adams said mildly. He wandered over to a chair and sat down. "Must be difficult for you. How's the blackmail business flourishing?"

"I don't know what you mean," Sweeting said indignantly. "I've given that up months ago."

"Have you? What's the matter with your eye? Someone paid a debt?"

"I had an accident," Sweeting said sullenly. "Can't you leave me alone, Lieutenant? I'm trying to earn an honest living."

"Finding it difficult?" Adams said, taking out his cigarette-case and lighting a cigarette. "It might be easier for you if I put you inside for ten years."

Sweeting stiffened.

"You've got nothing on me, and you know it."

"But I could easily fix something, Raphael. The easiest thing in the world. Don't forget that. I can put you away for ten years just when I want to, but I'll leave you alone if you play along with me. I want some information."

Sweeting sat down. This had been a hell of a day. His eye ached and he felt old and tired. He looked across the room to where Leo crouched, panting, and he sighed.

"What do you want to know, Lieutenant?"

"I want facts. You told Donovan you saw no one go up or come down and heard nothing. You were lying. Are you going to tell me?"

"I'm always ready to talk to you, Lieutenant," Sweeting said. "I didn't know the other guy."

Adams looked over at Watson and tossed him his notebook.

"Take it down," he said curtly. "Talk away," he went on to Sweeting. "I know most of it so don't skip the details. Start where you met Holland on the stairs."

Sweeting flinched.

"Have you arrested him, Lieutenant?" he asked uneasily. "You can't believe a word that guy says. I'll bet he said I tried to blackmail him."

"He told me he punched you in the eye," Adams said unfeelingly. "Start talking!"

Sweeting talked.

Half an hour later, Adams lit his fourth cigarette, stretched, yawned and nodded his head.

"That seems to take care of that. You're sure you didn't see this other guy who left Carson's apartment before Holland did?"

"I didn't see him," Sweeting said miserably. He had parted with valuable information for nothing, and it grieved him.

"Okay. Got it all down?" Adams said to Watson.

"Yes, sir."

"Sign it, Raphael," Adams said. "Each page and you countersign it, Watson."

When both men had finished signing the statement, Adams took charge of the notebook again.

"You can go home," he said to Watson. "Keep your mouth shut about this."

When Watson had gone, Adams lit his fifth cigarette, settled himself more comfortably in his chair and stared at Sweeting thoughtfully.

"We're going to have a little talk, Raphael. Strictly off the record, and you're going to be helpful. I want to crack this case. It's important to me. There's not much you don't see and hear.-You may have some ideas. If you play with me, I'll play with you, so keep on the right side of me."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Sweeting said, dabbing his eye. "But I don't know a thing."

"You might," Adams said, stretching out his short legs. "I had an idea Johnny Dorman knocked this girl off. How do you react to that one?"

Sweeting looked startled.

"Johnny? He wouldn't kill anyone!"

"Don't talk through the back of your neck! Of course he would. He's as vicious as they come. You knew him pretty well, didn't you ?"