As Ken began to ask him what he meant, the telephone bell rang.
“Let me get this,” Adams said, and picked up the receiver.
“Yeah? What is it?” he said into the mouthpiece. He lay back in the easy chair, listening to the excited voice that came over the line. “Okay, sergeant. I’ll be right over. Yeah, if Donovan isn’t there, someone’s got to be. Okay, I’m coming,” and he hung up. He looked at Ken and grimaced. “There’s a general call out for you. They’ve found your suit and shoes at Gaza’s store. My two bright assistants have also found your car and the card Parker gave you with Carson’s telephone number on it. Right now every cop in town is looking for you.”
Ken sat rigid.
“But they can’t prove I killed her!” he exclaimed. “You believe me! You’ve just said so. You can call them off…”
Adams lit his cigarette, stretched out his short legs and shook his head.
“Know anything about politics, Mr. Holland?” he asked.
“What has politics to do with this?”
“Everything. You’d better get a picture of the set-up.” He sank further into the chair. “The boss behind the present Administration is a guy named Sean O’Brien. He intends to marry Gilda Dorman, a nightclub crooner. O’Brien has money, power and ability. If he wants anything, he has it, and nothing stands in his way. He wants this woman. Her brother is Johnny Dorman who was Fay Carson’s lover before he was put in a nut-house. He came out yesterday. He was the guy who killed Fay Carson. I can’t prove it yet, but I’ll bet my last buck he was the guy. O’Brien isn’t likely to let him go to the chair for murder. He’ll cover him up, and he can do it. He’ll look around for a fall guy, and the fall guy is you.”
Ken stared at him.