“I really didn’t come here to answer a smart-mouthed broad’s questions,” Yardley said, still good-natured, still in control. “I want to know how much you know.”
“Oh, I know quite a bit,” I said. “I know that you called McGraw and got Earl’s name from him when Peter Thayer came to you with those incriminating files. I know you didn’t tell McGraw who you were having put away, and when he found out, he panicked. You’ve got him in a cleft stick, haven’t you: he knows you’re gunning for his kid, but he can’t turn state’s evidence, or he hasn’t got the guts to, anyway, because then he’ll be an accessory before the fact, sending a professional killer to you. Let’s see. I also know that you talked Thayer out of continuing the investigation into his son’s death by telling him he’d been a party to the crime for which Peter died. And that if he pushed the investigation, the Thayer name would be mud and he’d lose his position at the bank. And I know he wrestled with that grim news for two days, then decided he couldn’t live with himself and called you and told you he wouldn’t be a party to his son’s death. So you got cute little Tony here to gun him down the next morning before he could get to the state’s attorney.” I turned to Tony. “You aren’t as good as you used to be, Tony, my boy: someone saw you waiting outside the Thayer place. That witness is on ice now—you didn’t get him when you had the opportunity.”
Earl’s face turned red again. “You had a witness and you didn’t see him?” he screeched, as much of a shout as his high voice could manage. “Goddamnit, what do I pay you for? I want amateurs, I pull one off the street. And what about Freddie? He’s paid to watch—he doesn’t see anyone? Goddamn dumb bastards, all of you!” He was pumping his fat little arms up and down in his rage. I glanced at Ralph; his face was gray. He was in shock. I couldn’t do anything about that now. Jill gave me a little smile. She’d caught the message. As soon as Tony lifted the gun, she’d roll behind the chair.
“See,” I said disgustedly, “you guys have made so many mistakes that piling up three more corpses isn’t going to help you one bit. I told you before, Earl: Bobby Mallory’s no dummy. You can’t knock off four people in his territory and get away with it forever.”
Earl smirked. “They never hung one on me yet, Warchoski, you know that.”
“It’s Warshawski, you goddamn kraut. You know why Polish jokes are so short?” I asked Masters. “So the Germans can remember them.”
“This is enough, Warchoski or whatever your name is,” Masters said. He used a stern voice, the kind that got him heard with his junior staff. “You tell me where the McGraw girl is. You’re right—Jill is as good as dead. I hate to do it, I’ve known that girl since she was born, but I just can’t take the risk. But you’ve got a choice. I can have Tony kill her, one clean shot and it’s done, or I can have him rape her while you watch, and then kill her. You tell me where the McGraw girl is, and you’ll save her a lot of grief.”
Jill was very white; her gray eyes looked huge and black in her face. “Oh, jeez, Yardley,” I said. “You big he-men really impress the shit out of me. Are you telling me Tony’s going to rape that girl on your command? Why do you think the boy carries a gun? He can’t get it up, never could, so he has a big old penis he carries around in his hand.”
I spoke. Tony turned crimson and gave a primitive shriek in the back of his throat. He turned to look at me.
“Now!” I yelled, and jumped. Jill dived behind the armchair. Tony’s bullet went wide and I reached him in one spring and chopped his gun arm hard enough to break the bone. He screamed in pain and dropped the Browning. As I spun away Masters lunged over for it. I made a diving slide, but he got there first, sitting down hard. He brandished the Browning at me while he got up and I backed away a few paces.