“Johnny told me. He hated the idea. Yarde’s a bad man, Lieutenant: a bad man with women.”
Adams scratched the side of his jaw. This set-up was getting complicated. He would have preferred to tie Johnny to the murder, but if he couldn’t do that, Yarde would do nearly as well. In both cases Gilda was hooked up to it, and that meant O’Brien was hooked up in it too.
“Where do I find Yarde ?” he asked.
“He usually hangs out at the Washington Hotel. He could be there, Lieutenant.”
Adams got slowly and stiffly to his feet. This was turning out to be a hell of a night.
“Okay, Raphael. Keep your mouth shut and your legs crossed. Stick right here and don’t try to leave town. I may need you for a witness. Play along with me and you won’t get into trouble.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Sweeting said, and for the first time since Adams had been in the apartment, he began to breathe freely.
As Adams moved to the door, Sweeting went on, “Excuse me, Lieutenant, but you wouldn’t happen to have a spare buck on you? I have my rent to meet tomorrow and I find myself a little short.”
Adams opened the door and went slowly down the stairs as if he hadn’t heard his head bent, his brow furrowed in thought.
Sweeting leaned over the banister rail but resisted the temptation of spitting on the Lieutenant’s hat. He returned to his room and slammed the door.