Then I came to a picture that literally took my breath away. RO and LC at O'Connor's. It was dark again, of course, but I could just make out Ryan's handsome, smiling face as he leaned close to another man. And the other was a skinny young man wearing a black worker's cap. He had haunted, hollow eyes. He could easily have been my assailant. What is more, I recognized him. He had sat at the far end of the table at Schwab's Tavern that night.
A couple more pictures followed. Ryan and the same man, bent over a sheet of paper on a tabletop. And then the biggest surprise of all. I found myself staring at a picture of Sergeant Wolski talking with another man I didn't recognize. Had Wolski been involved in this? He had certainly responded quickly after Paddy's death. Did that mean he had been lurking in the neighborhood, even keeping watch while the dark fellow did the killing? He had done the most perfunctory of searches of Paddy's office, and made sure I was hustled out of the way. And he had seemed interested in Paddy's camera, too. Did he realize there might be incriminating evidence against him?
My heart was beating very fast now. I would turn the whole thing over to Daniel, and Daniel only. Now that I knew Sergeant Wolski might be somehow involved, I could no longer risk going to any other policeman. If Daniel wasn't there, I'd wait for another occasion. I started in the direction of Mulberry Street and police headquarters, then realized I was passing very close to Schwab's saloon. Maybe the barman could identify the man with Ryan in the photograph. I was about to cross the street to enter the saloon when a sudden downpour brought me to a halt under an awning and gave me time to reconsider. What if my assailant was in the saloon at this moment? Then my desire to present Daniel with a finished investigation won out. It was, after all, broad daylight. If my assailant was there, I could have the bartender and other customers hold him while I went for a constable.
But it was still with some trepidation that I pushed open the frosted glass door and plunged into the gloom. The fug was less at this early hour and there were only two customers, both sitting at the bar. I drew the bartender aside and showed him the photograph. He shook his head. Yes, he did recall seeing the man in there a couple of times but he wasn't a regular and he had no idea of his name.
“They'll know, though,” he said, indicating the nowempty table at the back of the bar. “That lot you were sitting with. They'll know. Some of‘em are here most nights.”
So I had to leave empty-handed again. The shower had passed over, leaving steaming sidewalks and a hot-house smell of rotting vegetation as I continued on to Mulberry Street.
I was some distance from the Mulberry Street police headquarters building when I froze. Sergeant Wolski was standing on the steps, talking with another officer. As I watched, they turned and went into the building, laughing together. That setded it. My interview with Daniel would have to wait for a safer occasion.
I had no alternative but to go home. I considered leaving a message at Daniel's apartment, but I really wanted the triumph of being able to name my assailant. It occurred to me that Sid and Gus, maybe even Lennie and some of his friends, could accompany me to Schwab's that evening. I would be perfectly safe with them. Then, of course, I saw the problem. I'd have to show them the photograph. Sid and Gus would want to know why we shouldn't go straight to Ryan and ask him to name the other man. This would be die obvious thing to do, except that I wasn't completely sure I could trust Ryan. If he was somehow involved in a plot, then who better at lying his way out?
When I got home, Sid and Gus had returned from playing detective, but they had not come up with any useftil information. Nobody remembered seeing a fleeing man late last night. I told them of my plan to visit Schwab's that evening, and asked them to accompany me.
“Do you expect to find him there?” Sid asked, looking more excited than apprehensive. “I'd dearly love to pay him back for our bumps and bruises.”
“The bartender says there will be people there who know his name,” I said and the photograph just slipped out without my meaning it to. Gus and Sid begged to see it, so I had to feign a call of nature and sprint up to my room. There were fortunately two photographs that clearly showed Ryan and my attacker. I took one of them and cut it in half. Then I ran down again. “This is the man,” I said. “My former employer must have been tailing him and taken a photograph of him.”
“That's him all right.” Gus leaned over, “I'd know that face anywhere. Surly customer.”
“But Molly dear, we've been talking it over,” Sid said, “and we are not going to allow you to go to Schwab's this evening.”
“I have to find someone to identify this man, don't you see?”
Sid was grinning. “That is why you must let us go in your stead.”
“In my stead? Absolutely not. I've caused you enough danger as it is, and I—”
Gus held up her hand to silence me. “What if he's there, Molly? It would make more sense if we could get the information about him without arousing his suspicion.”
“And I have been in there before,” Sid added. “We are well-known around the Village. People expect to see us in taverns.”