Savage City. John Glasby
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to take that corner safely, but it was our only chance if we wanted to stay alive. Tyres screeched thinly in protest. The other car, a big black Cadillac was almost on top of us. He must have guessed at my intention for he was half turning as I hit the corner and slewed into it in a sideswipe. The headlights of the Mercury glared brilliantly, brightening the curve to the side street. It was a narrow, almost right-angled curve. The car began to swerve to one side, skidding violently.
Dawn screamed again, pulled herself against me as I thrust her head down, beneath the edge of the windscreen with my right elbow, twisted in the seat. We hit the centre of the road and the car lurched as we made the turn. The wheels hit the far kerb and for one wild instant, the car tilted and threatened to go over onto its side.
Then, miraculously, it straightened. My hands were hard on the wheel as I fought desperately for control. From behind me, I heard a harsh stuttering and the side mirror vanished in a splintering of glass. Something smacked against the side of the windscreen and everything blurred as the glass splintered and cracked under the shattering impact of the slug.
The car bounced again, less violently this time, and I eased my foot down on the brake. We went across the sidewalk, came to rest against the wall of the nearby building. We were hurled into the wheel and dash, but not too badly.
Fighting for breath, I pushed myself upright, threw a swift glance at Dawn.
Slowly, she lifted herself and stared up at me.
‘Are you all right?’
‘I think so, Johnny, that was a mad thing to do.’
‘I know. But it was the only thing to do. Those hoodlums meant business. When they figured they couldn’t ram us, they took a couple of shots at us. That slug must have missed us by a couple of inches, no more.’
‘But why, Johnny?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? It answers a lot of questions that have been worrying me. Now at least, I know where I stand. I know what I’ve got to face.’
‘They know that you’re in on this particular deal, and they’re afraid. That’s it, isn’t it?’
‘I guess so. It all adds up. Only I didn’t figure they’d try anything so soon. There must have been somebody there who saw me and figured why I was there. They’d know Grenville, what kind of a guy he is.’
There was silence for a minute. I knew what she was thinking. I wondered what she would say next, and when she said it, I felt no surprise.
‘Whichever way you want to play it, Johnny, it’s all right by me.’ The warmth was back in her voice and it did funny little things to me, even with the aches and bruises in my shook up body. I grinned back at her. Suddenly, for no reason at all, I felt on top of the world again. Some of the old exhilaration was back again, the challenge. I forgot for a long moment about what might lie ahead for us, a lot of trouble and a lot of regrets.
I opened the door. It seemed to take all of the strength I had to push it open and clamber out. There wasn’t a sound from the other street. The hoodlums could have stopped their car, switched off the engine, and be creeping up on me with silenced revolvers at that very moment. Only some half-remembered instinct told me that they hadn’t, that they were no longer around. They wouldn’t bother to hang around to see if they had finished us off. If they hadn’t, there would be plenty of other times to try. I’d be around until then. That was one thing they could be sure of.
Dawn got out and stood swaying a little. I walked round and took a quick look at the car. It had been badly scratched on the one side, but it was still in a fit shape to take us to where we wanted to go.
‘Let’s get back to the Office, Dawn,’ I said. I looked at my watch.
‘I’m kind of shaky.’
‘I’ll drive.’
‘Do you think they’ll come back tonight, Johnny?’
‘Not tonight. That’s their pitch finished for the time being. They’ll figure on something else for the next try, something a little more sophisticated. That was a mug’s game to try with anybody who knows their methods. They’ll think up something real good for the next time.’
A new set of aches popped out of my limbs as I eased myself behind the wheel, switched on the ignition again. The car was warm-hearted, responded almost instantly. Gently, I eased her away from the kerb, straightened her up. Everything seemed to be in good working order.
Back in the Office, with the curtains drawn across the windows, Dawn fixed a couple of drinks. She was shaken, but doing her best not to show it.
Maybe, I thought watching her, she’s already regretting telling me to go through with this deal. But she’ll never show it, never let me know it.
I drained my glass and lit a cigarette. Inwardly, I wondered whether to ring Grenville and tell him what had happened. It would prove his theory to the hilt, and he might like to know it; but on the other hand, he might try to make a move, to push things, and that could be fatal, especially as far as Johnny Merak, and possibly Dawn Grahame, were concerned.
No, it would be better to play this thing alone, at least for the time being. It still didn’t make a lot of sense. Sure, I knew now that the big boys were in on the deal, but why pick on some dame like Caroline Lomer unless she knew a lot more than was good for her and intended to spill it all to the cops. That would have been a good enough reason for them to want her out of the way. But even that idea didn’t quite figure right.
Damn it all, I thought fiercely, there had to be an answer to this somewhere. Do something, Merak. Don’t just sit there thinking about these things. Somewhere out there in the teeming city was somebody who knew the right answers to the questions. Find him and get them out of him.
I stubbed out the cigarette. I knew that Dawn was watching me in silence, wondering what was going on in my brain. The big trouble was that it was hard to forget that I had once been in the rackets myself. Then, if I needed any information, I merely had to beat it out of the guy concerned. A quick ride, the once-over, and you had everything you wanted to know. Now—well, it wasn’t quite as simple. True, Harry Grenville often turned a blind eye to what went on, provided it stopped short of actual murder. But you usually had to go about things in a more discreet way, although the rules were still unchanged for the other side.
I remembered the bullets that had smashed through the windscreen of the car close to my head only a brief time before, and wondered what fresh plan was being built up against me, and by whom. The Underworld was a vast thing with a lot of men pulling the strings.
Maybe even now, the killer was squatting in a black web of vice and murder, waiting to strike again, planning ahead, preparing to commit a further murder to wipe out any lead I might find. At the moment, I was completely lost, stumbling around in the dark.
Dawn went out to fix some food and I sat in silence, trying to think things out. Trouble had a habit of following me around, and I didn’t want any of it to brush off onto her if I could possibly help it. By now, the word seemed to have got around that Johnny Merak was nosing into everyone else’s business, private and otherwise, and I doubted whether many people would be really sorry if I departed the world quite suddenly with a slug in my brain. Nobody that is, except for Dawn Grahame, and possibly Harry Grenville. Maybe it was because of this that I was intent of keeping myself alive and seeing things through to the bitter end.
The phone shrilled, breaking in on my thoughts. I picked it up after a moment’s pause. It could have been the guy who had tried to kill me, ringing up to find out if I was still alive.
‘Johnny Merak?’ The voice was harsh and metallic.
‘That’s right,’ I said.
A pause, and then: ‘I think you and I ought to have a little talk, Merak. It’s important.’
‘I don’t usually make a point of talking to anybody I don’t know and who doesn’t give his name.’
‘It concerns the murder of Caroline