10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

42——_—__—_—_—_—_—_——_———-10-STORY DETECTIVE “Uh-huh. I had to take him in as drunk and disorderly once. He got hurt. Don’t think I was being tough. I wasn’t. He carried on like a wild man —there was no restraining him. Get- ting into the patrol! car, he fell and hit his head on the curbing. Had to have some stitches in it. He tried to bring charges of manhandling against me.” Vinson laughed unpleasantly. “It was- n’t so easy to smear the name of Vin- son then.” “Adkins hasn’t forgotten it.” “So okay.” “T mean, don’t let him see your back.” Jig started the motor. “Zieman knew I was going to MacCrowe’s.” Jig drove off. The next hour or so it was hell to keep his mind on his job. Jig was dragging down more pay than the usual man on this work. And only be- cause he’d studied the tastes of the public. He could glance at a dozen good records and name the spot where each would earn its maximum on a phono, and the places where each would gath- er only dust. It wasn’t enough for a record to be good, It had to be in the right locale, and that might be an ice cream parlor only half a block from a tavern. In the ice cream place, the platter would roll up the coins; in the tavern it wouldn’t get a play. Working as close to things as that, and constantly checking on shifting public preferences, took con- centration. Jig came out of the biggest eatery and café in the Negro section, his mind full of surprises. It was in this section that he frequently got his first intima- tion of discs that would later be popu- lar. And it was here where he found Vinson waiting for him. Jig couldn’t tell anything from Vinson’s set face. But the shake of Vinson’s head made his heart sink. They got into Jig’s car. ¢¢% TACKLED Zieman first because he was the one who knew you were headed for MacCrowe’s, and could have ambushed you.” Vinson sighed. “Nothing doing. Zieman never . left the restaurant. I checked with the cop on the beat. He has a habit of ducking into the restaurant kitchen for coffee and rolls. He saw Zieman around for enough of the time that Zieman couldn’t have gone to Mac- Crowe’s.” “Adkins? Mrs, Reuwer ?” “The cop didn’t see Adkins. Zieman said that after you left he asked Ad- kins where MacCrowe lived, because he wanied to make sure he’d given you the right address. That was all. But for an hour Adkins wasn’t around.” Jig whistled. Vinson snorted: “Mrs. Reuwer says that Adkins was in the cellar the whole time, shifting stuff around and checking on canned goods. She saw him constantly. There are lots of peo- ple that know she was there all the time. And she says Adkins was too. So what can you do?” “Well, what are you going to do?” Vinson got out of the car heavily. “Walk! It’s the only thing that keeps my brain from getting in a knot. Walk and check up on MacCrowe. I like him best. His alibi for last night—that he was sitting home alone—smells. I know where I can find out a few things about him.” “And the others ?” Vinson made a mouth. think much of them.” “Not even when you know now that Adkins is Mrs. Reuwer’s heart inter- est?” Jig exclaimed. “Why do you think she alibied him like that? She’s nuts about him—and has him under control. I saw that this morning. He was sore at me. But a word from her and he went back into the kitchen like a trained dog.” “T’ve got to follow my hunch. I don’t have much time.” Vinson frowned thoughtfully. “You see how it is. May- be you're right—maybe I’m right. But I feel MacCrowe, and I have to work him. Then I got to hurry and appear before the commissioner.” “Good luck!” Jig said hoarsely. “If you don’t win, they won’t be doing “I don’t Gomichbooks (E@)