PAGE 15
The Luck Piece
by
Trencher turned round. He glanced at his hands, held in enforced companionship by the short chain of the handcuffs, and then steadily at his captor.
“Why so fussy, Murtha?” he asked in a slightly contemptuous tone. “You never heard of me starting any rough stuff when there was a pinch coming off, did you?”
“That’s true,” said the detective; “but when a gun’s just bumped off one guy he’s liable to get the habit of bumping off other guys. Even a swell gun like you is. So that’s why I’ve been just a trifle particular.”
“You’re crazy, man! Who says I bumped anybody off?”
“I do, for one,” replied Murtha cheerfully. “Still that’s neither here nor there, unless you feel like telling me all about what came off over in Thirty-ninth Street to-night.
“You’ve always been a safety player so far as I know–and I’m curious to know what made you start in using a cannon on folks all of a sudden. At that, I might guess–knowing Sonntag like I did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” parried Trencher. “I tell you you’ve got me wrong. You can’t frame me for something I didn’t do. If somebody fixed Sonntag it wasn’t me. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I’m giving it to you straight.”
“Oh well, we won’t argue that now,” said Murtha affably. In his manner was something suggestive of the cat that has caught the king of the rats. A tremendous satisfaction radiated from him. “You can stall some people, son, but you can’t stall me. I’ve got you and I’ve got the goods on you–that’s sufficient. But before you and me glide down out of here together and start for the front office I’d like to talk a little with you. Set down, why don’t you, and make yourself comfortable?” He indicated a chair.
Trencher took the chair and Murtha, after springing a catch which he found on the inner side of the door, sat down in another.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Trencher,” went on the detective admiringly. “You sure do work swift. You didn’t lose much time climbing into that outfit you’re wearing. How did you get into it so quick? And, putting one thing with another, I judge you made a good fast get-away too. Say, listen, Trencher, you might as well come clean with me. I’ll say this for Sonntag–he’s been overdue for a croaking this long time. If I’ve got to spare anybody out of my life I guess it might as well be him–that’s how I stand. He belonged to the Better-Dead Club to start with, Sonntag did. If it was self-defence and you can prove it, I’ve got no kick coming. All I want is the credit for nailing you all by my lonesome. Why not slip me the whole tale now, and get it off your chest? You don’t crave for any of this here third-degree stuff down at headquarters, and neither do I. Why not spill it to me now and save trouble all round?”
His tone was persuasive, wheedling, half friendly. Trencher merely shook his head, forcing a derisive grin to his lips.
“Can the bull, Murtha,” he said. “You haven’t got a thing on me and you know it.”
“Is that so? Well, just to play the game fair, suppose I tell you some of the things I’ve got on you–some of them. But before I start I’m going to tell you that your big mistake was in coming back to where you’d left that nice new yellow overcoat of yours. Interested, eh?” he said, reading the expression that came into Trencher’s face in spite of Trencher’s efforts. “All right then, I’ll go on. You had a good prospect of getting out of town before daylight, but you chucked your chance when you came back to the Clarenden a little while ago. But at that I was expecting you; in fact, I don’t mind telling you that I was standing behind some curtains not fifteen feet from that check room when you showed up. I could have grabbed you then, of course, but just between you and me I didn’t want to run the risk of having to split the credit fifty-fifty with any bull, in harness or out of it, that might come butting in. The neighbourhood was lousy with cops and plain-clothes men hunting for whoever it was that bumped off Sonntag; they’re still there, I guess, hunting without knowing who it is they’re looking for, and without having a very good description of you, either. I was the only fellow that had the right dope, and that came about more by accident than anything else. So I took a chance, myself. I let you get away and then I trailed you–in a taxi.