“I don’t know,” Ann said, speaking with difficulty.
Suddenly Nancy noticed Jim Dayton lurking in the shadows. He was holding a baseball bat. She felt a small twinge of hope that they just might get out of there alive.
Meanwhile, Reston was not sympathetic. “Either you give me the name, Ms. Granger, or our young friend here joins the angels.”
“Honestly, I don’t know who it is,” Ann said. “Whoever it was just left messages for me. Please, I don’t feel well.”
“The stuff we gave you will do that,” Reston said. He jabbed her in the side. “Come on, Miss Investigative Reporter, talk—or you’ll feel a lot worse. Who’s the snitch?”
“She doesn’t know,” Nancy said, wondering if Bess was safe. “If she did, would she have fallen for that trick of yours to meet you at the Grand Cinema? Stop poking her! She hasn’t been out of the hospital that long, remember?”
“Hey, Reston, she don’t look so good.” Brownley peered down into Ann’s face. “You sure that stuff you used to put her out was all right?”
“What difference does it make?” Reston turned the gun on Nancy again. “You tell me who it is, then,” he said and raised his arm, as if to hit her.
Ann squirmed to sit upright. “Please, don’t hurt her!”
Unfortunately, Jim picked that moment to charge forward. He went to slam Reston with the bat, but Brownley was quick to intercept. He spun Jim around and punched him so hard that he knocked him out.
“I see you ladies have engaged some help,” Reston said and nodded a thanks to Brownley.
Nancy peered at Jim lying on the floor, and her heart sank. She recovered quickly and said, “Don’t waste your breath, Ann.” Nancy looked Reston in the eye. “He’s going to kill us, whether he gets the name or not. He has to. We know too much.”
“You also talk too much,” Reston growled.
“It must be a very successful business,” Nancy went on, “considering the trouble you’ve gone to to protect it. How much have you been pulling in?”
“No harm in my telling you. You won’t be passing it along. About a million a year.”
“Pretty good,” Nancy said. “Certainly enough to spread some around to people who can help keep you in operation. How many people are on your payroll?”
Reston shrugged. “Ten. They’re cheap, all things considered. A hack inspector here, a police records clerk there. They don’t ask for much. But they’re a big help.”
“And the judge? He was about to blow it for you, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, which was unfortunate. It was very handy having someone who could tip us off about search warrants, or secret indictments that would put certain friends behind bars. No matter. We’re grooming someone to take his place. Now—” He placed the gun against her temple.
“One last thing,” Nancy said, her mouth dry. She had to play for time. “What were you holding over the judge’s head?”
Reston grinned. “Gambling debts. For every tip he gave us, we knocked ten thousand off his bill.”
“How much was framing my father worth?”
“Fifty thousand. And it worked. Your daddy’s going to jail, little girl.”
“Sooner or later, you will, too—for first-degree murder.”
“What’s she talking about?” Brownley stared at Reston. “You killed Renk? You said it wasn’t you! You said somebody had done us a favor!”
“So I lied. After little Ms. Drew got away from me, I went to relieve Casper out near the judge’s place. And who shows up? Ms. Drew again.”
“You didn’t tell me about that!” Brownley said, eyeing his partner as if he were seeing him for the first time.
“I don’t report to you. I could hear Renk beginning to cave in loud and clear. He had to go. What do you care?”
“If he doesn’t care,” Nancy said, “he should. You made him an accessory to murder.”
“Wait a minute! I didn’t know anything about it!” Brownley’s ruddy complexion had turned ashen.
“Maybe not. But you will know about ours,” Nancy pointed out. “If he kills us, you might as well have pulled the trigger. He tried to kill us once before.”