Brass Rainbow by Michael Collins Page A

He had mentioned the girl earlier, so maybe it was true. Maybe the sun was going to shine on Sammy at last.
    â€œAll right. We’ll find the girl. I think I know where to find her. You can describe her first to Gazzo to show him you really saw her.”
    â€œGazzo?” His smile faded. “You got to hide me!”
    â€œNo, Sammy.” I held the gun. “No more running. If you’re not lying in your teeth, there’s a killer around who’s framing you six ways from Sunday. Baron figures as Radford’s killer, but someone killed Baron. If you were found good and dead, maybe a suicide, that would tie it all up neat and end the case for the cops. On the loose you’re a clay pigeon.”
    â€œI don’t care! I’m not …”
    â€œYes you are. For both of us. Just by being here I’m harboring a fugitive, concealing a felony, and obstructing the law. If you’re innocent, I hope I can prove it for you. If you’re guilty, I’m not taking the fall with you.”
    â€œSome pal! You don’t believe me. I’m going!”
    He moved. I let off the safety. He stopped.
    â€œI’ll shoot, Sammy. You’re a fugitive, and you’ve been a liar all your life. I’ll put you in the hospital if I have to.”
    He looked at the gun. His face was like raw putty. I put the gun down where I could reach it fast, and called Gazzo.
    Weiss shivered alone in the center of the room.

14
    I T WAS PAST 3:00 A.M. when I followed Gazzo into his office. He was just barely talking to me. He did not like the way I had taken Weiss to find Baron, and he did not like it that I had gone to find Weiss on my own in the first place.
    â€œYou going to bust that hideout?” I asked.
    â€œAfraid for your skin?”
    â€œYou bet I am.”
    â€œFor now we’ll just keep an eye on the place.”
    He sat behind his desk and stared at me. I sat and stared back. Weiss had stuck to his story through two shifts of questions. I did not know how long he could go on, even if it were all true. Weiss still insisted he had only scuffled with Radford even when they showed him the pictures of the body. He had tried to look away. Death scared him. They made him look, but all he did was stare and say that the guy had been okay when he had run.
    I said, “I figure Baron went in the back way after Sammy ran. He got rough, or Radford did, and Radford got killed. Baron grabbed the money. Then he got scared. Sammy was the perfect pigeon. Baron laid the frame on him, or tried to. That’s all that explains Baron’s actions.”
    â€œMaybe,” Gazzo said, “if you believe Weiss. If you believe Baron, it plays different. Weiss killed Radford, took the money, and ran. Baron went looking for him. Baron found him. Baron got tough, and Weiss killed him.”
    â€œSammy killed a man like Baron? With Leo Zar around?”
    â€œA cornered rat,” Gazzo said. “Anyway, Weiss has the money now. It doesn’t matter if Weiss had the money all along, or if Baron did. Baron didn’t give the money to Weiss, not Paul Baron. That bet story is really great.”
    There it was. Either Weiss killed both of them, or only Paul Baron. The police could see it no other way, and they’d settle for charging Weiss with Baron’s murder alone. They could be right. Weiss was a born liar. Only the bet story was so bad I believed it.
    â€œHow do you know the money was Radford’s money?”
    â€œHe had a list of the serial numbers in his desk.”
    â€œSo that’s why you wanted to know if Weiss had paid me?” “That’s right.”
    Gazzo studied his ceiling. “Baron was shot from close with a .45 caliber automatic. The first shot knocked him flat. The second hit him when he was down. The first was still in him. The M.E. can’t place the time any better than between eleven P.M. and five A.M. Wednesday night. But Baron was talking to me