I reached O’Gar by phone, asked him to come up to my flat right away, and then called up Charles Gantvoort.
“Have you seen Madden Dexter yet?” I asked him.
“No, but I talked to him over the phone. He called me up as soon as he got in. I asked him to meet me in Mr. Abernathy’s office in the morning, so we could go over that business he transacted for father.”
“Can you call him up now and tell him that you have been called out of town—will have to leave early in the morning—and that you’d like to run over to his apartment and see him tonight?”
“Why yes, if you wish.”
“Good! Do that. I’ll call for you in a little while and go over to see him with you.”
“What is—”
“I’ll tell you about it when I see you,” I cut him off.
O’Gar arrived as I was finishing dressing.
“So he told you something?” he asked, knowing of my plan to meet Dexter on the train and question him.
“Yes,” I said with sour sarcasm, “but I came near forgetting what it was. I grilled him all the way from Sacramento to Oakland, and couldn’t get a whisper out of him. On the ferry coming over he introduces me to a man he calls Mr. Smith, and he tells Mr. Smith that I’m a gumshoe. This, mind you, all happens in the middle of a crowded ferry! Mr. Smith puts a gun in my belly, marches me out on deck, raps me across the back of the head, and dumps me into the bay.”