The street was gray with the beginning of daylight.
Up the street a black coupé stood under some trees. I couldn’t see if anyone was in it. I played safe by walking in the opposite direction. The coupé moved after me.
There is nothing in running down streets with automobiles in pursuit. I stopped, facing this one. It came on. I took my hand away from my side when I saw Mickey Linehan’s red face through the windshield.
He swung the door open for me to get in.
“I thought you might come up here,” he said as I sat beside him, “but I was a second or two too late. I saw you go in, but was too far away to catch you.”
“How’d you make out with the police?” I asked. “Better keep driving while we talk.”
“I didn’t know anything, couldn’t guess anything, didn’t have any idea of what you were working on, just happened to hit town and meet you. Old friends–that line. They were still trying when the riot broke. They had me in one of the little offices across from the assembly room. When the circus cut loose I back-windowed them.”
“How’d the circus wind up?” I asked.
“The coppers shot hell out of them. They got the tip-off half an hour ahead of time, and had the whole neighborhood packed with specials. Seems it was a juicy row while it lasted–no duck soup for the coppers at that. Whisper’s mob, I hear.”
“Yeah. Reno and Pete the Finn tangled tonight. Hear anything about it?”
“Only that they’d had it.”
“Reno killed Pete and ran into an ambush on the get-away. I don’t know what happened after that. Seen Dick?”
“I went up to his hotel and was told he’d checked out to catch the evening train.”
“I sent him back home,” I explained. “He seemed to think I’d killed Dinah Brand. He was getting on my nerves with it.”
“Well?”
“You mean, did I kill her? I don’t know, Mickey. I’m trying to find out. Want to keep riding with me, or want to follow Dick back to the Coast?”
Mickey said:
“Don’t get so cocky over one lousy murder that maybe didn’t happen. But what the hell? You know you didn’t lift her dough and pretties.”
“Neither did the killer. They were still there after eight that morning, when I left. Dan Rolff was in and out between then and nine. He wouldn’t have taken them. The– I’ve got it! The coppers that found the body– Shepp and Vanaman–got there at nine-thirty. Besides the jewelry and money, some letters old Willsson had written the girl were–must have been–taken. I found them later in Dawn’s pocket. The two dicks disappeared just about then. See it?
“When Shepp and Vanaman found the girl dead they looted the joint before they turned in the alarm. Old Willsson being a millionaire, his letters looked good to them, so they took them along with the other valuables, and turned them–the letters–over to the shyster to peddle back to Elihu. But Dawn was killed before he could do anything on that end. I took the letters. Shepp and Vanaman, whether they did or didn’t know that the letters were not found in the dead man’s possession, got cold feet. They were afraid the letters would be traced to them. They had the money and jewelry. They lit out.”
“Sounds fair enough,” Mickey agreed, “but it don’t seem to put any fingers on any murderers.”
“It clears the way some. We’ll try to clear it some more. See if you can find Porter Street and an old warehouse called Redman. The way I got it, Rolff killed Whisper there, walked up to him and stabbed him with the ice pick he had found in the girl. If he did it that way, then Whisper hadn’t killed her. Or he would have been expecting something of the sort, and wouldn’t have let the lunger get that close to him. I’d like to look at their remains and check up.”
“Porter’s over beyond King,” Mickey said. “We’ll try the south end first. It’s nearer and more likely to have warehouses. Where do you set this Rolff guy?”