Read Online Everybody Had A Gun by Richard Prather - Free Book Online Page A

jackets as Mrs. Sader had appeared to be. Or I could simply bat them all on the head—during which process I'd probably get well batted myself.
    I said, "Look, Sader. You haven't got a prayer. I can work on you guys one at a time or all at once, but you'll spill."
    He started to speak, but though his mouth stayed open, he didn't say anything. He was looking over my head toward the door again. I turned sideways and glanced up where he was staring. The light I'd noticed him look at before was burning brightly now.
    "What does that mean?" I asked him.
    He frowned. "It means we're having company. That light goes on whenever the elevator starts down. It's—ah—a precautionary measure."
    And then I remembered the Plymouth that had whizzed by me when I'd been standing in front of Clark's Cafeteria. I tried it for size.
    I said, "That reminds me. Before I dropped in here I noticed one of Breed's boys up in the alley. Seemed like he was waiting for something."
    "Breed!" For the first time he lost some of his noise. But not for long; I don't imagine he ever lost it for long. He said rapidly, "Perhaps I've acted hastily, Mr. Scott. There is another exit in this very room. In the corner." He jerked his head toward the corner of the room at his right. "You can see it if you look closely enough. Even from where you are. Here." He ignored the gun I had on him and fished in his pants pocket. He pulled out a key ring, separated one key, and placed the ring on the desk. "That unlocks it. There are steps up to the alley at street level. You may leave."
    What the hell? I stood stupidly in the middle of the room with Iris pressed warm and close against me while the seconds ticked away.
    Sader added, "I told you it takes one minute for the elevator to reach the floor. That light"—he nodded toward it—"goes off when the elevator stops. We have about twenty or thirty seconds left."
    Seconds left for what? Why was this guy so anxious to get rid of me now, when a minute ago he wouldn't budge? My brain was vibrating like jiggled jello and I was getting nothing but a headache. I didn't trust Sader from one atom to another, but I couldn't figure this. It could be Breed or some of his men on their way down, and it could also be some of Sader's chums. Or, for all I knew, it could be a real gorilla. Whatever it was, I didn't like Sader's abrupt about-face.
    He said quickly, "Are you leaving, Mr. Scott?"
    The guy was too anxious, rushing me too fast. I said, "I'm curious about this, Sader."
    He licked his lips, and I thought he got a little paler under his tan. He reached out slowly and picked up the keys. He said, "Then I'm leaving. You'll have to let me leave, Scott." His voice was tight, and he licked his lips again, but he walked stiffly away from the desk and stopped at the corner of the room, and I heard the scrape of the key in a lock.
    I stared at him. I was pretty sure he didn't know me well enough from our very brief association to be sure that I wouldn't shoot, and as far as he was concerned he was taking a chance on a slug in the back. While I looked at Sader, just swinging the door open, I thought of that elevator and wondered if some of Breed's men were coming to this party—and right then a picture flashed through my mind of Breed somewhere, snarling and saying, "If that ass, Scott, sticks his nose in my business just once more, he'll be the late Shell Scott."
    Sader started out into the darkness beyond the door, and if I'd felt like it I could have shot him in the back of the head. I almost felt like it. The two other guys against the wall suddenly scrambled after him and out of the door, their coats still down off their shoulders.
    I let them go. All I wanted right now was to get Iris and me to a reasonably safe place—if there was one for me in L.A. any more—but I was afraid if we followed Sader out the door we might be stepping into some kind of trap. Even as I watched it, the door slammed shut and decided