You Find Him – I'll Fix Him

  I staggered up. Near me, on the floor, was the poker. My fingers closed around it. I staggered across the room and into the bedroom.

  Carlo had Gina flat on her back across the bed. One of his big hands gripped her throat. He knelt over her. He was shouting: "Where is it? Come on! Give it to me!"

  I swung the poker. He half-turned, but he was a shade too late. The poker came down on top of his head. His hand slid off Gina's throat. He supped sideways. I hit him again. He spread out on the floor.

  I dropped the poker, stepped over him and leaned over Gina.

  "Did he hurt you?"

  She looked up at me, her face white. She tried to smile.

  "He didn't get it, Ed," she gasped, then, turning her head, she began to cry.

  "What's going on here?" a voice demanded at the door.

  I looked over my shoulder. Two policemen stood in the doorway; one of them had a pistol in his hand.

  "Not much right now," I said, making an effort to keep upright "This guy broke in here and we had a free-for-all. I'm Ed Dawson of the Western Telegraph. Lieutenant Carlotti knows me."

  At Carlotti's name, the policemen's faces brightened.

  "Do you want to charge this man?"

  "You bet I do. Get him out of here, will you? I'll have a clean up and then I'll come down to the station."

  One of the policemen bent over Carlo. He caught hold of his collar and dragged him upright.

  I had already learned the danger of getting close to Carlo and I started to shout a warning.

  Carlo came to life. His right fist shot out and connected with the policeman's jaw, sending him crashing into the other policeman.

  Carlo came to his feet. He gave me a back-hand slap across the face that flattened me on the bed, then he dived out of the room.

  The policeman with the gun in his hand recovered his balance, swung around, lifted his gun and fired.

  I saw Carlo stagger, but he reached the front door as the policeman fired again.

  Carlo dropped on hands and knees. He turned his head, his face a savage mask of pain and fury. Somehow, he hauled himself to his feet and took three tottering steps out on to the landing and stood swaying at the head of the stairs.

  The policeman moved slowly towards him.

  Carlo looked past him at me. His face twisted into a ghastly attempt at a grin, then his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. He toppled backwards down the stairs, and landed on the floor below with a crash that shook the building.

IV

  Forty minutes later, I was back in my apartment, fixing my bruises. I had dropped Gina off at her apartment and had telephoned Maxwell to hold everything until I had time to contact him again. The police had told mc that Carlo was still alive, but there was no hope for him. They said he would the within an hour or so. They had rushed him to hospital.

  I had just finished putting a strip of plaster over a cut above my eye when the front-door bell rang. It was Carlotti.

  "Manchini is asking for you," he said. "He's going fast. I have a car outside. Will you come?"

  I followed him down to where the police car was waiting. While we were driving to the hospital, Carlotti said, "You seem to be having some excitement. Grandi telephoned me that it was you who put him on to Setti's hide-out."

  "I've had too much excitement."

  He gave me a thoughtful stare.

  "After you have talked with Manchini, I want to have a talk with you."

  Here it comes, I thought, and told him that I was at his disposal. Nothing more was said until we reached the hospital. Then Cariotti said, "I hope he's still alive. He was in a bad way when I left him."

  We were taken immediately to a private ward where Carlo lay, guarded by two detectives. He was still alive, and as we came into the room he opened his eyes and gave me a twisted grin. "Hello, pally," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I've been waiting for you."

  "What is it?" I asked, standing over him.

"Get these coppers out of here. I want to talk to you alone."

"You talk in front of me or not at all," Carlotti said.

Carlo looked at him.

  "Don't be a sucker, copper. If you want to know how Helen Chalmers died, you'll get out of here and take these two flat-feet with you. I want to talk to my pal first. Then I'll have something for you."

  Carlotti hesitated, then shrugged.

  "I'll give you five minutes," he said and, beckoning to the two detectives, he went out. They followed him and closed the door.

  Carlo looked at me.

  "You've got guts, pally. I like the way you fight. I'm going to put you in the clear. I'm going to tell them it was me who killed Helen. They can't do anything to me now. I'm not going to last much longer. If I tell them I did it, will you do me a favour?"

  "If I can."

  "Get rid of that film, pally." A spasm of pain ran through him and he shut his eyes. Then, opening his eyes, he grinned savagely. "I'm getting to be a sissy, aren't I?" he said. "Will you give me your word you won't show that film to anyone? It's important to me, pally."

  "I don't think I can do that," I said. "The police must see it if it is anything to do with Helen's death."