Solly caught the rope O’Brien tossed to him, held the motor-boat steady while O’Brien scrambled aboard.
“Tux here?” O’Brien asked abruptly.
“Yes, boss,” Solly said, startled that O’Brien had brought the motorboat over himself.
“Where is he?”
Tux came out of the shadows, buttoning up his shirt. He had been asleep, but had wakened when he heard the motorboat and had scrambled, cursing, into his clothes.
“I want you,” O’Brien said curtly.
Tux led the way down the companion ladder, along the dimly lit passage to his cabin. He sat on his bunk, stifled a yawn and looked enquiringly at O’Brien.
“Did you fix Louie?” O’Brien asked.
“Sure,” Tux said, looking a little uneasy. “Whitey hit him a shade too hard.”
O’Brien stared at him, his eyes intent.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t reckon Louie is feeling too good right now,” Tux said guardedly. “He’s got a dome like an egg-shell.”
“Does that mean he’s dead?”
Tux lifted his shoulders.
“He could be. He spilt a lot of brain.”
O’Brien rubbed his jaw.
“This set-up is getting out of hand,” he said, took out a cigar and bit off the end. “It might be a good thing if Louie did croak.”
Tux looked relieved.
“It’ll surprise me if he doesn’t.”
“We don’t want any death-bed confessions.”
“He was too far gone to talk when we left him.”
O’Brien lit his cigar, blew smoke to the ceiling while he eyed Tux thoughtfully. This was the beginning, he thought. Rough stuff again after four years. Well, it couldn’t be helped. He had to keep control of, the situation, and if guys were a nuisance they must expect trouble.
“I’ve decided to get rid of Johnny,” he said, lowering his voice.
Tux was surprised, but he didn’t show it.
“Anything you say, boss.”
“I want him planted where he won’t be found,” O’Brien went on. “He must never be found.”
“I can fix that,” Tux said. “I have a barrel on board that’ll fix him, I’ve plenty of cement, too. He won’t be found.”
O’Brien nodded.
“You mustn’t slip up on this, Tux. I’ll go along and talk to him now. I’ll let you know when to do it.”
“Tonight?” Tux asked, thinking longingly of his much-needed sleep.
“It’ll be tonight. Better get that barrel and the cement ready.”
“I’ll tell Solly.”
“Do it yourself,” O’Brien said sharply. “Solly is to keep out of this. I’ll take him back with me. I don’t want him to know anything about it. Only you
and I are to know about it, Tux.”
Tux grimaced.
“That barrel’s going to be goddamn heavy. I can’t handle it alone. I’ll have to have Solly.”
O’Brien took his cigar from between his lips, stared at the glowing end, then said, “Please yourself, but if you have Solly, you’ll have to take care of him. He’ll have to go the same way.”
Tux was fond of Solly. Besides, Solly was as strong as a bull and as quick as a rattlesnake.
“He’ll keep his trap shut. You don’t have to worry about him,” he said.
O’Brien looked at him.
“If you don’t want to handle it my way, Tux, just say so.” The threat in his voice was unmistakable.
Tux eyed him, then shrugged.
“Okay, I’ll manage on my own.”
“You’d better make a job of it.”
“I’ll make a job of it.”
O’Brien got up, opened the cabin door and went into the passage. He walked to Johnny’s cabin, turned the key that was in the lock, pushed open the door and entered.
Johnny was dozing. He opened his eyes, blinked, then sat up.
“Hello, Johnny,” O’Brien said quietly.
He looked at Johnny’s bruised face with satisfaction. It was about time someone pushed this punk around, he thought as he closed the door and leaned against it.
Johnny eyed him warily.
“What do you want?”
“I’ve decided to make you a proposition,” O’Brien said.
“Yeah?” Johnny swung his legs off the bunk. “Well, okay, but it’s going to cost you plenty.”
O’Brien shook his head.
“It’s time we had a straight talk, Johnny. You are in no position to dictate terms. You either accept my conditions or you’ll stay here until you change your mind.”
“What are the conditions?” Johnny asked, touching his bruised face with his finger-tips.
“You’ll leave here tonight, go to the airport and fly to New York. One of my agents will meet you at the airport and put you on a plane for Paris. Another of my agents will meet you in Paris and take you to an apartment there. You will remain in Paris until I give you permission to leave.”
“And that will be after you’ve married Gilda, I suppose?” Johnny said with a sneer. “Do you imagine she’ll marry you unless I’m there to give her away?”
“You will write and tell her you are leaving for Paris tonight, and you won’t be back,” O’Brien said quietly. “She knows you’re in trouble, and she won’t be surprised you are clearing out.”
“Why are you so anxious to get rid of me?”
“Need you ask?” O’Brien returned. “You are a damned nuisance. I know what I’m in for taking you on as a brother-in-law. I can do without your company.”
Johnny laughed.
“You’re kidding yourself, Sean. If you want Gilda you’ll have to put up with me. I’m not going, so get that idea out of your head. I’m sticking to
you and Gilda and your dough.”
O’Brien shrugged.
“Please yourself. You’ll either go or stay on this boat until you rot. You have no other alternative, and if you think you can escape, try it and see how you get on!”
Johnny grimaced.
“I might go if there was some money in it. Is there?”
“I didn’t expect to get rid of you without it costing me something,” O’Brien said. “I’ll give you ten grand in return for the letter to Gilda and your promise to remain in Paris until I tell you to return.”
“Ten grand?” Johnny said incredulously. “You’ll have to do better than that. Make it fifty, and it’s a deal.”
“Twenty-five, but no more.”
“I’ll close at thirty,” Johnny said, watching O’Brien closely. O’Brien appeared to hesitate, then he shrugged. “Okay: thirty. My agent will give you half in New York and you’ll get the other half in Paris.”
“You wouldn’t double-cross me, would you, Sean? If I don’t get the money, I’ll come back.”
“By then the police may be looking for you. You seem to have forgotten you killed a woman last night.”
“Why shouldn’t I forget it? That’s your headache. I want some money now. How about my air passage?”
“My agent will take care of that,” O’Brien said glibly. He took out his billfold, counted three hundred dollars on to the table and waved his hand. “There you are: take it.”
Johnny didn’t need a second invitation. He slid off the bunk, collected the money and put it in his pocket.
“You must want her, Sean,” he said, grinning. “Brother! You must want her to part with all that dough. I wouldn’t give all that for her or any woman.” O’Brien had to make an effort to hide the fury that was raging inside him.
“There’s notepaper in that drawer. Write to Gilda and tell her you’re going to Paris and won’t be coming back for some time,” he said curtly
“Oh, the hell with that!” Johnny said impatiently. “You tell her. Why should I bother to write?”
“Write to her or the deal’s off!” O’Brien said, his rage sounding in his voice.
“What are you worrying about?” Johnny asked, suddenly eyeing him suspiciously. “Scared she’ll think you’ve knocked me on the head and dropped me into the river?”
“Don’t be a fool!” O’Brien was secretly startled that Johnny should have got so near to the truth. “She’s fond of you and she deserves to hear direct from you.”
“Well, okay, I’ll call her from the airport.”
“I’m not having you hanging around the airport where a cop might spot you. You’ll write now or the deal’s off.”
Johnny shrugged.
“Okay, okay. Shall I tell her how your thug knocked me around? I can’t imagine she’ll be soft and sweet to you if she knew how you’ve been treating me.”
“Get on with it!” O’Brien snarled, and turned away, his face ugly with suppressed rage.
Johnny sat down and began to scrawl on a sheet of notepaper. He hummed under his breath, then he tossed the paper over to O’Brien. “There you are,” he said. “Now let’s get off this stinking boat.”
O’Brien picked up the note, read it, nodded and pointed to an envelope.
“Address it to her.”
Johnny obeyed and O’Brien put the note in the envelope, sealed it, and put it in his billfold.
He was elated. He could now deal with Johnny without making Gilda suspicious.
“You’re not coming back with me,” he said. “I’m not taking the risk of being seen with you. I’ll take Solly and he can come back with the motorboat for you. And understand, do what I tell you or you’ll be sorry.”
“Suppose I go first for a change?” Johnny said. “I’ve been on this goddamn boat longer than you have.”
“Shut your trap!” O’Brien snarled, his face suddenly murderous. “You stinking little rat! I’ve had about enough of you!”
The expression in his eyes startled Johnny.
“Take it easy, Sean,” he said uneasily. “I was only kidding.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t like kidders, and you’ll damn well find out just how much I don’t like them before long!”
O’Brien went out, locked the door after him and went up on deck. He was shaking with rage. Now he had the letter, the sooner Johnny was out of the way the better. He could tell Gilda in a little while that Johnny had been killed in a brawl in Paris. It would never occur to her that he had ordered Johnny’s death.
Solly stood by the deck rail. As soon as he saw O’Brien he scrambled down into the motorboat.
Tux joined O’Brien.
“Go ahead and take him,” O’Brien said, keeping his voice low. “You’re sure you can handle this, Tux? I don’t want any slipup.”
“That’s okay,” Tux said. “I’ll roll the barrel overboard. There’s plenty of water. It’ll be okay.”
“When Solly comes back, come over and call me. You’d better tell Solly you took Johnny ashore in the dinghy. I’ll keep him with me for an hour. Will that give you enough time?”
“Sure,” Tux said indifferently. “I’ll fix him as soon as you’re gone. There’s nothing to it. The barrel’s a big one. He’ll fit in it easily. I have plenty of cement. An hour’s fine.”
“Don’t use a gun, Tux. Someone may hear it from the waterfront.”
“I’ll use a knife.”
“Make a job of it,” O’Brien said, crossed the deck arid climbed down into the motorboat.
Solly cast off, started the engine and sent boat shooting away into the darkness.