The American Gun Mystery (Death At the Rodeo)

Hunter gripped the edge of the table and hauled himself to his feet. “Say that again?” he said in a strangled undertone.

“You’ve got one of the toniest layouts in the city upstairs. And one of the fanciest hunks of protection, too,” said the Inspector amiably. “Oh, I know I’m risking my shield by saying it, but the fact is that your joint — I should say joints — are being protected by a bunch of divvying crooks in City Hall.”

“Why, you stupid old fool,” began Hunter thickly; his eyes were steaming and red.

“Not only that, but you’re one of the big money boys behind the fight racket, Hunter. You engineered the Murphy-Tamara fake, you’re workin’ hand-in-glove with Pugliezi in the wrestling racket, and there’s even talk that you’ve got Tony Mars under your thumb. Only I don’t believe that; Mars is on the square. And then it’s common talk that you’ve fixed the Harker-Black fight in a big way; Tony would never go for that... Sit still, Black; your punch won’t do you any good here.”

The prizefighter did not remove his small black eyes from the Inspector’s face. Mars sat very still.

“Why, you meddling little rat!” shouted Hunter, and stumbled forward with curling fingers. Mars rose quickly and pushed him back. Mara Gay sat pale and rigid, very sober now. And Tommy Black did not even blink. “Why, I’ll have you kicked out of the Department... you dried-up old baboon... I’ll throttle you like—”

Ellery pushed by his smiling father and said coldly: “I thought you were drunk, but now I know you’re insane. Are you going to take that back, or do I have to thrash you?”

It was all very confusing and embarrassing. Waiters began running toward the table. The orchestra struck into a loud number with furious gusto. People craned. The noise mounted. Black rose and, taking Mara’s arm, quietly walked her off into the crowd. For an instant Hunter’s attention was diverted; a trickle of saliva crept down his chin; his eyes started wildly from his head and he lunged for Black, screaming: “And you, too, damn your soul! You b—” Mars clamped a hand over his mouth and pulled him down in the chair...

Ellery found himself on the sidewalk beside his father, walking toward Broadway filled with a vast disgust for himself, the world, and everything in it. Curiously enough, the Inspector was still smiling. Sergeant Velie fell silently into step with them.

“Hear the riot, Thomas?” chuckled the old man.

“Riot!”

“Darn near. Society!” The old man snorted derisively. “Blue blood! Scratch ’em all, all these crooks, and you’ll find just plain stink underneath. Hunter... bah!”

“Find out anything?” asked the Sergeant, scowling.

“No. But that bird’s tied up in this business somewhere, I’d stake my life on it.”

Ellery groaned. “You’ve gone about it in exactly the wrong way if you expect to get anything out of him.”

“Says you,” jeered the Inspector. “Fat lot you know about that sort of thing. I tell you, I’ve ripped the hide off him. Sure, he was soused. But you mark your daddy’s words. It won’t be long before he forgets there ever was such a thing as caution. We’ll know the whole story soon, El; mark my words, mark my words!”

Whether the Inspector was a lucky prophet or a shrewd psychologist, the fact remained that the period of gestation was drawing to its close.

Spurred on by malice, perhaps, Hunter manipulated strings too insistent to be denied. Things began to happen.

And two of the things that happened crowded each other in the happening. The first was that the very next morning Commissioner Welles ordered the ban on the Colosseum lifted.

The other was that the evening papers ran an announcement to the following effect: On the coming Friday night Tommy Black would fight Heavyweight Champion Jack Harker for the title, as originally scheduled, at the Colosseum. And on Saturday, the next night — working, as Mars told the reporters, “faster than hell” to accomplish the feat of removing the ring, ringside seats, and other props of the fistic battle — Wild Bill Grant’s Rodeo, “monster Western attraction which opened so tragically some three weeks ago,” would have a second Grand Opening for the edification of the kiddies and the satiation of the curiosity-seekers.