He was far too shrewd not to see at once that she was lying. She had seen him, and she must be as convinced as he was that Johnny had murdered Fay.
This was serious. At all costs Johnny mustn’t get into the hands of the police. He had to deal with this situation quickly and efficiently. Where was Johnny?”
“He’s gone to New York then?” he said casually, watching her closely.
“Yes. I’m sure I shall hear from him soon,” Gilda said, not looking at him.
“I see.”
She was still lying to him. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be sheltering Johnny. He might be at her apartment at this moment.
“Well, so long as he is out of the way…” he said, and looked at his wristwatch. “Damn it! I nearly forgot. I have to call a guy. Wait for me, will you? We’ve got to get this thing straightened out. I won’t be a minute.”
He went out of the room, into his study, and closed the door. He dialled a number, and, keeping his voice down, said, “Get me Tux.”
After a short delay, a hard, rasping voice said, “Yes, boss?”
“You did a swell job on that apartment house. I have another job for you. Go around to 45 Maddox Court. It’s Miss Dorman’s apartment. Get in there and take a look around. Don’t let anyone see you. I think Johnny Dorman’s there. If he is, take him away and hole him up somewhere safe. It won’t be easy, but you’ve handled tougher jobs than this one. Take Whitey along with you. The boy gets wild under pressure.”