Free Mourn the Hangman by Harry Whittington

you now. I want you to give yourself up to the police — you’ll be safe from Arrenhower — ”
    “Why don’t you give yourself up to the police? Then you’d be safe from me — ”
    “Stop it, Steve! Damn it. You shouldn’t have come here. You think that elevator operator didn’t recognize you? She called me instead of the police. That was a lucky break for you-”
    “Oh, I’m all over four leaf clovers. I got you on my side.”
    “I am on your side, Steve.”
    “Then may God help me — ”
    “Steve, I’m going to work for you. I didn’t know that Arrenhower was really after you — ”
    “How do you know now? How’d you find out?”
    “I tell you, I’m working for you. Dickerson called me — ”
    “Boy, that busy little telephone of yours!”
    “Stop hating me, Steve, and listen. Dickerson called and said you’d told him that one of Arrenhower’s private police was tailing you. Terravasi — ”
    Steve felt the jolt of that in his diaphragm. The wrongness again.
    “Who?” he said. “Who was tailing me?”
    Bricker’s gaze wavered. His face flushed slightly. “That’s — that’s what Dickerson said you told him. Terravasi — ”
    “You’re lying, Bricker. Again. I know. I didn’t tell Dickerson. I said that one of Arrenhower’s goons. He must have twenty men on that police squad of his. I didn’t mention any names.”
    He started slowly around the desk. Bricker gasped sharply and took a step backward.
    “Steve!” he whispered. He jammed his hand into his coat pocket. “Steve, stay where you are. One murder is enough. Stop right there. Don’t make me be guilty of one.”
    Steve looked at the outline of the small automatic in Bricker’s coat pocket. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to Bricker’s eyes. Bricker was smiling!
    Bricker began to talk, his voice more confident. “You’re in bad trouble, Steve. Trying to assault me wouldn’t help you any. Some day, you’ll thank me for stopping you like this.”
    “You’re still a son-of-a-bitch, Bricker. Even with that gun in your hand.”
    “Some day you’ll thank me, Steve.”
    “Yeah. When they strap me in that electric chair at Raiford, my last thoughts will be of you, Bruce. Believe me.”
    “I hate for it to be this way, Steve. Honest to God. But I know how wild you are. With Stella dead and all. I just can’t take any chances with you losing your head — ”
    Blake shrugged. “So you might have to shoot me. That would be terrible. You wouldn’t be able to sleep until you got back in bed with Prudence, would you? All right, Bricker. What do we do now? Have you called Ross Connell of Homicide, Dickerson of American Materials or your new boss, Arrenhower?”
    “I haven’t called anybody, Steve. You can get out of here. I’ll give you plenty of time.”
    “Everybody giving me a chance! Everybody loving me — you guys are going to love me to death.” He walked over and picked up his coat. He slid his arms into it and shrugged it up on his shoulders. “I think Stella was killed because somebody wanted to frame me for her murder. Even you look pretty sour to me, Bricker. It might be a good idea if you shot me now. You’d sleep a lot better if you know too much about this thing — ”
    “I don’t know a thing, Steve! So help me God. This — this other thing — with Arrenhower — that was business. I had to do what seemed best. But, my God! Stella was — my friend!”
    “Yeah. So was I.”
    “Steve — believe me, anything I can do to help you — ”
    “Oh, no. I think I’m here because of you. But you could help me a lot if you’d tell me how you knew Terravasi was tailing me.”
    “It’s the God’s truth, Steve. Dickerson told me.”
    “He couldn’t have! I didn’t mention that name. And Terravasi is working for Arrenhower!” Suddenly, he stared at Bricker. “Or he was working for Arrenhower!”
    Bricker dampened his lips. He shook his head. “No, Steve. Dickerson was hiring Terravasi, too. He worked