by Jerry eBooks
“And I’d like to take a look at the other fellow,” the desk sergeant added.
My hand froze motionless on the receiver. “You mean—he’d been in a fight?”
“Mighta run against a door in the dark.”
I went cold and dizzy. My thinking faculties wouldn’t function for a full minute. If I didn’t arrest Steve, some one else would. I started to order the radio operator to drag Steve; then I stopped and did some more thinking.
I phoned my wife. “Mary,” I said in a voice too low for any in the office to hear, “has Steve been there?”
“No.” Her voice was uneasy. “Why, didn’t he come home last night?”
“Listen, Mary,” I went on abruptly, “when Steve comes in, tell him to stay home till I get there.” I hung up before she could ask any more questions. I’d have to arrest Steve, and it’d be a little easier to do that at home than at the office before all the Yellows:
I WAS pretty shaky about making the nest phone call. I finally went through with it. I dialed the mayor’s residence. A man answered. It wasn’t the mayor. It sounded like Velz. I asked for Beatrice. I just felt compelled to learn if Steve had broken up with, that girl. But I didn’t know how to go about finding that out.
I recognized Beatrice’s soft voice on the wire. I struggled for words, and finally asked: “Has Steve called you this morning, Miss Beatrice? This is Chief York.”
“No, he hasn’t.” Just that. Her voice told me nothing.
What next? I couldn’t come right out and ask her. I did some rapid thinking and got nowhere. “I’m trying to locate Steve right away.” I waited for her to say something. She didn’t. “If he calls you, tell him to phone me,” I added lamely.
She said she would. I let it go at that. I wasn’t making any headway. Maybe Beatrice and Steve had had a spat—maybe not. I thought not, probably because I wanted to think that way.
I sat deaf and dumb and thinking. A phone call came for me. Mayor Winston!
“Chief York?” The mayor’s voice had an edge to it. “I understand a girl, Maxine Stowe, was murdered at the Crescent House last night.”
So Maxine Stowe was the girl’s name. I hadn’t found that out—I’d left details to Sergeant Argust. “Yes, sir,” I said.
“I also understand there are some nasty angles to that case. I expect you to go the limit, if you like your job as chief of detectives. Understand?”
I heard myself saying I did, and he hung up.
I knew Mayor Winston didn’t like Steve. The mayor preferred Councilman Velz as a prospective son-in-law. I was sure now Velz had answered the phone when I called the mayor’s worker.
I got to my feet, dazedly. “If Steve should come in tell him to go home and stay there,” I flung over my shoulder as I went out.
At the Crescent House I found Argust and the others had finished and were just leaving when I came in.
“Art, get all the dope on Maxine Stowe,” I directed, “and phone me out home if I’m not at the office. I feel all in.” I couldn’t go back to the office and face the boys when this case began to break.
Argust lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. “You know who she is?”
“Yes, Didn’t you?”
“Well—”
He hesitated. “Nothing in her handbag or personal effects to identify her. But I’d found out anyway.” He gave a low whistle. “If she’s Maxine Stowe, she’s Councilman Velz’s girl.”
That registered. But my face told Argust exactly nothing.
“The bullet,” put in the M. E., speaking to me, “ranged upward. The guy who shot her was sitting down or kneeling on the door.”
“Mebbe,” I mumbled. I didn’t want to hear much more about it. Steve was a crack shot with a pistol, and usually fired, at close range, from his hip.
I left them and went in to ask the shriveled-up proprietor another question.
“When did this guy you put in 223 come in here to get the room? What time?”
He lifted his stoop shoulders in a shrug, answered thoughtfully. “About midnight last night. I didn’t see the dame come in.”
MY HEART started pounding. I could have hugged that freak. “What d’ya mean?” I kept my voice even, but it was no easy job. “The girl wasn’t with him when he registered?”
“Nope. He was by himself. Don’t know when the girl came in. Never saw her. A guy, Cosselli, came in inquiring about the fellow in 223 after midnight—but he didn’t go up to the room. Just walked right out.”
Cosselli! Vela’s underworld lieutenant! Cosselli had doubtless been checking up on Maxine Stowe for Vela, or—
I left the thought hanging. I made quick time crossing the street to a telephone booth in a drug store. If my kid brother hadn’t been involved in this mess, I could have reasoned it out with some sense.
I got Mayor Winston on the wire and came right out with the question on my mind. “Mayor, when you phoned me a while ago about that murder at the Crescent House, you said the girl was Maxine Stowe. Who told you that?”
“What do you mean, York?” His voice was caustic.
“I mean how did you know her name?”
“What’s strange about that? Didn’t you know? See here, York! Are you a detective, or what? Does the mayor of this city have to dig up all the evidence for the police department before a crime can be solved—”
“Listen, Winston!” I interrupted. Right then I knew my job as chief of detectives wasn’t worth one dime. “It is a little strange when the mayor calls the detective chief and tells the name of the murdered girl before the investigating officers can find out who she is. Not a soul in the police department knew her name until you phoned me!” I wondered if I spoke the truth, but I intended to amply defend myself.
That held him. I knew it before he opened his mouth. “I see.” His voice had changed. “Well, York, if it’ll help you any, Councilman Velz phoned me about that girl.” Those were the first kind words the mayor had given me in months.
Then I set out to learn if I had lied to the mayor. Argust could tell me that. But I spent a lot of valuable time sweating and trying to locate Argust.
Finally I caught him ducking out of my office just as I came up the stairs. “Art, we’d better go in my office and do a little talking.”
His narrowed eyes sharpened. “Yea. We’d better take another look at that rooming house register.”
So he had been looking for that register in my office! We went in and I locked the door.
“Art,” I began, leveling a stare that made him shift uneasily, “We’ve been together a long time on the force. We’ve had our little differences, but at other times we’ve been pretty close together. Now, Art, I want you to give me the truth—about Velz.”
His florid face took on a deeper red. “Okay, chief.”
“Have you seen Velz, or talked with him, or sent him any information in the last ten hours?”
He answered without hesitation and almost spat his reply. “No!”
“Okay, Art.” I was at the end of my rope in that connection. He’d made his answer. He’-d stand by it. So far, I had never caught Art Argust in a lie.
“Let’s take another look at the register, chief.” In his low words ran an undercurrent of deep meaning, and I thought I saw sort of hidden lire in his jet eyes. “Where is it?”
“It’s in my safe,” I replied bluntly, “where it’s going to stay, for the time being.”
He moved his square head in a slight negative gesture. “You’re making a mistake, chief.”
I stalked to the door, unlocked it, and flung it wide. Then I stopped dead. Just as well have it out with Argust right now.
“Art, who do you think killed Marine Stowe?” I demanded.
“Cosselli,” he said There was a certain, meaningful something in his crisp tone.
THE TENSION in my body suddenly eased. He was going to stay loyal! Going to stick by Steve! “Cosselli,” I repeated, woodenly, then nodded in. slow agreement. “Front man for Velz, isn’t he?�
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“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” returned Argust. He turned abruptly, strode from the room, leaving me staring after him and wondering some more.
Argust knew as well as I did what Cosselli was. But it rankled Argust for me to throw off on Velz. Argust still appreciated the play Velz had made to have him appointed chief instead of me. Argust kept me guessing.
I had enough now on Velz to throw a scare into him. I found him upstairs in his office at the city hall. His secretary tried to stop me, but I went right on into his private office. Without waiting for an invitation, which he wouldn’t have given me anyway, I sat down across from Velz at his desk.
“Make yourself at home, York!” he invited sarcastically.
“Sure. Thanks. Got a little matter on my mind.”
“I can’t help you, York,” he snapped. “I’m a member of the police committee, and all that, but I can’t do anything for your brother. He’ll have to take his rap, if that’s what you have on your mind.”
“Velz, the thing on my mind is the murder of Maxine Stowe. You’re involved!”
He tensed perceptibly, then mechanically straightened a disordered stack of papers on his glass-topped desk. He leaned back and surveyed me from head to foot, his bland face expressionless. “Talk fast, York. I’m a busy man today.”
“Not too busy to talk to me,” I slapped back. “Velz, you’re up to your neck in this Maxine Stowe murder!”
“Go on,” he urged, ironically.
“You knew a girl had been murdered at the Crescent House and that her name was Marine Stowe—before the police knew anything about it. How did you know, Velz?”
“Everybody in this town,” he snorted contemptuously, “can learn all the answers before the police wake up. A fine bunch of officers—”
“You slipped up this time,” I cut in. “You talked a little too fast to leave yourself in the clear.”
His thin mouth tightened at the corners. “Make as many dumb plays as you like. York. Something tells me you’re not going to be chief of detectives long.”
“Long enough to arrest you for murder! Better locate your bondsmen today, Velz. That’s what I came here to tell you.”
I don’t know how much I impressed him. I was trying to force him to lay off Steve—at least until after the evening papers would go to press. I’d crack this case before morning if any human or set of humans could do it.
His round sleek head on his short, thick neck wagged arrogantly. “You have evidence of course,” he mocked. So what are you waiting for.”
I was taking a long shot, and knew it too well. “I’ll not he waiting long, Velz.” I got up and somehow conquered a maddening impulse to take a punch at that round, smirky face. “I intend to charge you with the murder of Maxine Stowe!”
“If you haven’t already arrested your brother for that murder,” he flung at me, his voice now cold with fury, “you’d better do it before night, or there’ll be a new chief of detectives tomorrow!”
“I’ll nail you first!” I promised, and went out to see what I could do coward keeping that promise.
I phoned headquarters, then called Mary. Steve hadn’t showed up. That puzzled ire plenty.
PAGE ONE of the afternoon paper carried the story. They had all the sordid details, more than I knew myself, and rawhided me for not having Steve already under arrest. Somebody in the know had given those papers more than enough.
Then the boys at headquarters really went to town for me. I turned over that register and gave them all I knew. They tore every underworld hangout wide open. Argust seemed to work as hard as the others.
We knew room 221, the room adorning Steve’s at the Crescent House, had been occupied last night by Nardi, a newcomer reported to be one of Cosselli’s mobsters. But we couldn’t locate Nardi, Cosselli or Steve.
The afternoon wore on and night came without anything important worked out. I began to wonder now just how a fellow like me who had been on the force almost two decades would word up a resignation when he turned in his badge. Then something broke.
A report came in that Vein had killed a burglar out in the suburbs. A burglar! I was there in no time, plenty weak with a cold seepage of sweat all over me.
I supposed Vels had framed Steve, and put him out or the way. Some strange intuition had prompted me to take a squad with me, including Argust. I don’t know why I wanted Argust along, but I did.
I missed my guess about Steve. Belief almost wilted me when I saw the dead man sprawled on Velz’s library rug. The body was face downward, but it wasn’t Steve. My heart started beating again. I knelt and turned the bushy head slightly. Then I felt as if some one had slapped me in the face with a dash of ice water.
“Well.” grunted Argust. “After looking all day, we’ve finally found Cosselli!”
“It is Cosselli, isn’t it?” inquired Velz tonelessly, dabbing a monogrammed handkerchief at a blood-smeared hickey over his left ear. “I’ve seen the fellow before.”
“Yes; you’ve seen the fellow before,” I agreed, meaningly. “And it is Cosselli.”
“He broke into my library,” Velz went on unperturbed, pointing to a broken window catch on one of the library windows. “I heard the noise and came in here with my automatic. I turned on the light, and he swung on me with his blackjack. He struck me over the left ear and knocked me down.”
He mopped the hickey again, gingerly. “But before he could hit me again, I fired. He had a gun in one hand and his blackjack in the other.” Cosselli’s right hand still clutched the blackjack, the gun was on the rug near the fingertips of his left.
“You moved the body?” I queried, hoping he would sense something officious in my tone. He did. “Certainly not! Why should I?”
“You shouldn’t,” I admitted. “And I’m glad you didn’t.” He was sore now, and a bit off guard. “Just where were you when he hit you?” He shifted his position a few feet to a point some three steps from the library door. “Standing right here.”
“Right, there, eh? Standing or sitting?”
His face showed thorough disgust. “Standing—numbskull! I told you I had just come in, to see what the noise was.”
“Let’s see your automatic.”
He handed it over.
HE reddened to the roots of his sleek, pomaded hair, and bit off the beginning of a curse. “You never miss an opportunity to make a monkey out of yourself—”
“Shut up!” I barked. “Now listen to me, Velz. Maybe it happened differently.” I glanced at a clock on the mantel. “It’s scarcely nine o’clock, Velz, and a little early for burglars.” I let him think that over before I continued. “Your idle talk has reminded me of some things I had forgotten, Velz. Thanks for the memories. Now maybe I can draw a little picture for you.”
I understood now why the bullet, that had struck Maxine Stowe in the chest, had ranged upward as though fired by some one sitting or kneeling, or from the hip of some one standing. “Maybe you had Cosselli kill Maxine Stowe last night because you were afraid she’d make trouble if you didn’t marry her. And you thought you had a good chance to marry the mayor’s daughter if Maxine could be put out of the way, end my brother Steve eliminated.
“Maybe after the murder you got scared Cosselli might talk. So you called him here and shot him, hit yourself on the head, then put Cosselli’s blackjack in his right hand and his gun in the left.”
Argust nudged me, and whispered in my ear. “Look who’s coming up the walk!”
I flicked a glance through the library window. The porch light illuminated a limping man. Steve!
“Watch Velz, fellows!” I yelled. “He’s under arrest.”
I made a dash for the corridor to grab Steve before he came in.
“Listen, chief!” gasped Argust. “Before you talk with Steve. Steve’s signature on that rooming house register was genuine, but those words and wife after his name were not in his handwriting. Somebody else wrote those words in, after Steve had registered. If you hadn’t
been so upset about your own brother being involved you’d have noticed the difference in the writing. I’d have told you sooner, if you hadn’t acted so all-fired snooty with me.”
Steve barged in the front door. “Steve, What’s happened to you?” His left arm was in a sling, his face banged up and he was limping badly. “I had a run-in with Nardi,” he said hoarsely. “I got a confession out of him on this Maxine Stowe murder. Then he went crazy and grabbed his gun I had taken away from hint,-and he winged me. My first shot finished him off.”
STEVE was pretty shaky on his k-r feet, and I helped him down on a hallway bench. “Steve, why did you stay away from home last night—and register at the Crescent House?”
“I got a tip I’d learn something on Velz last night in room 221 if I could get in 223 adjoining. I fell for it. I rented 223, but couldn’t hear anybody in 221. I went downstairs to check up on things and found that Nardi had rented 221.
“Prowling outside, I saw a man and a woman going up the fire escape into 221. Then I ran into Nardi. I started questioning him, and we had a fight. He smashed up my face a bit, and got away. Later I went back to my room and found that girl’s body. Apparently she had been shot in 221 and then carried into my room. I slipped out and went looking for Nardi—”
“Steve,” I interrupted, “why did you hide out? Why didn’t you phone me?”
“No!” exclaimed Steve, stubbornly. “Somebody was trying to frame me, and I figured it was a personal matter between me and Velz. I finally found Nardi again, on hour ago, and got a confession about the whole setup. The man who went up the fire escape with Maxine Stowe was Cosselli. He took her up there and killed her.
“Velz had him do it. Maxine thought she was sneaking up there to see Velz. Velz had Cosselli put her out of the way so she wouldn’t ball up his plans to marry Beatrice Winston. Velz wanted me fixed at the same time.”
Steve shook his head regretfully. “Then Nardi went nuts, winged me and I had to plug him. I hated that. I wanted the testimony of both Nardi and Cosselli to pin the rap on Velz. Now we’ll have to get along on Cosselli’s testimony alone. But I’ll make Cosselli spill it all! He’ll get off with life instead of the chair. I started looking for Cosselli, and heard he had come here to see Velz. He’s here, isn’t he? Cosselli—”
