The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps

“Yes. He should have been here by this. Word was left with his servant. Gorgon had stepped out of his apartment for the moment.”

“Yes.” I thought aloud. “He was with me.”

And now what? I suddenly realized that I had entirely forgotten, in the rapid happenings, that I had had no word of my boy, Jerry, whom I had left waiting for me when I went to visit Colonel McBride. Jerry, who had disappeared when I decided to make my appearance at the Colonel’s house from the rear instead of the front. Jerry, whom I thought I had seen leave an areaway far down the street and follow the person — the man who had left McBride’s house with Colonel McBride. Jerry, who might be able to tell me who—. But no more thought. I had forgotten Jerry. I’d give my home a buzz now and see if he had returned.

But first I told O’Rourke about my message to Michelle Gorgon, but not of the envelope, for I didn’t want to bring The Flame into it — at least, yet. Just that I had wised Michelle Gorgon up as to where they could find his brother, Eddie’s, body. At the City Morgue.

“Good!” O’Rourke snapped up the phone on the little table. “I’ll have the boys pick up the stiff, just say I was tipped off to a bump in Maria’s Cafe. Let the surprise and joy be theirs.” And he grinned at me, but his grin had lost much of its spontaneous good nature.

As for me. I grabbed myself another phone and buzzed my number. And this time I got results. I’m telling you I breathed easier when Jerry’s voice came over the wire.

“Never mind me, Jerry,” I cut short his interest. “Did you recognize the lad who left the block in such a hurry?”

And Jerry did. And Jerry told me so. And the name of the man brought back to me the words of The Flame. “Use your brains. Go over this thing from the beginning.”

And I did go over it — did think. And the thoughts I got were amazing, astounding, but not unbelievable. When I came to, O’Rourke was standing beside me.

“O’Rourke,” I said, “now that that bit of shooting is out, I think I’ll go down and talk to Rudolph Myer.”

“But I’ll cover you. The Commissioner will cover you, if we don’t find the Colonel. Hell! Race,” he cut in on himself, “you said to sit tight on that, you might know something.”

“Might,” I said. “I will know something soon. But just for safety’s sake I’ll get over to Rudolph Myer. You can’t tell who might step over your head.”

“The Commissioner’s head too?”

“Who is Rose Marie?” The question just came to me.

“God!” said O’Rourke. “If we knew that we’d know everything. Toney said it was Michelle Gorgon’s wife. Giovoni spoke of Rose Marie as Michelle Gorgon’s wife. And... oh, some one else said it was Michelle Gorgon’s wife. But we’ve gone back over the years and Michelle Gorgon was never married in Italy.”

“Couldn’t Michelle have been married under another name?”

“He could have, but he wasn’t.”

“But if Giovoni was his father-in-law, then... then who was Giovoni’s daughter, and who was her husband?”

“Giovoni’s daughter’s name was Rose Marie, all right. We’ve established that as a fact. And she was brutally murdered, too, by her husband. We’ve established that too, even if it was many years ago. But Michelle Gorgon’s name in Italy was Gorgonette, and Rose Marie’s husband’s name was Nicholas Tremporia and he was a Greek. He escaped after the murder, and was picked up on the railroad tracks on a dock near Naples. Fairly ruined by the train, he was. We only found that out since Giovoni was murdered. So you see, if Giovoni had lived and talked his head off, it wouldn’t have hurt Michelle Gorgon any. Giovoni was a little bugs, I guess.”

“Then why have him killed?”

“I don’t know,” O’Rourke said despairingly. “Something else, maybe. But certainly Michelle Gorgon was not Giovoni’s son-in-law. That much is established beyond a doubt.”

“Yes?” I chewed that one over, but I didn’t like it. There didn’t seem any sense, then, in the kicking over of Giovoni. The phone rang and O’Rourke answered it. I had already started for the door.

O’Rourke held up his hand. I waited until the call was over. Then O’Rourke said, and though his voice was calm, it was a false calm:

“You needn’t bother about Rudolph Myer. The body of Eddie Gorgon has — disappeared.”

“Disappeared!”

“Well, it isn’t there in the Maria Cafe,” snapped O’Rourke. “Choose your own word for it. But if there’s no corpse there’s no criminal lawyer necessary. That much is a cinch.”

“Nevertheless,” I told him, as I passed through the hall to the front door, “I’m a boy scout and believe in preparedness. I’m going to see Rudolph Myer. Wait here. I think something is going to break.”

And smack at the front door I bumped into Doctor Michelle Gorgon.

“Ah! Race Williams,” he said, and though he looked at me unblinkingly I read hatred in his eyes, “I have another presentiment, quite contrary to former thoughts of you. It is that you are about to die; to be found with—” He broke off as O’Rourke followed me to the door. Then he said, “I have just heard of Madame’s sad end. How distressing. Most distressing, Detective Sergeant O’Rourke.”