I
The motorboat swept inshore, its prow clear of the water. A long white wash from the churning screws marked its passage from the Willow Point. Tux sat in the bucket seat while Solly had charge of the wheel. For the first time in years, Tux was scared. He had fallen down on an order, and he knew what was ahead of him. O’Brien would pass the word around. Tux would be shut out, and to be shut out of O’Brien’s world meant going back to small-time heists, not having police protection and scratching for a living. It wouldn’t be long before he would get himself involved in a gun battle with a cop. It wouldn’t be long, either, before he was on a slab in the police mortuary.
Tux ran his tongue along his dry lips at the thought. There was still a chance to rectify his mistake. If he could find Johnny, wipe him out and get rid of his body there would be no need for O’Brien ever to know Johnny had escaped from the cruiser.
But where was he to find Johnny? Would Johnny go to his sister’s apartment or would he leave town? The chances were he’d leave town. Johnny was no fool. He would know Tux wouldn’t rest until he found him.
The lighted waterfront was now well in view, and Tux suddenly leaned forward. “What’s going on over there?” he shouted above the noise of the engine.
Sooly turned his great pear-shaped head and stared.
“Looks like cops,” he said. “That’s a cop car.”
“Better take her to Sam’s jetty,” Tux said. “We don’t want to get snarled up with those boys.”
Solly altered course, and in a few minutes he brought the motorboat alongside the jetty.
Both men scrambled up the ladder, and then hurried down the jetty to