10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18 box. The neighbors have all gotten used to it.” He nodded. “You’d better call the police now, Mrs. Grover. I’m sorry about your husband.” She said: “It’s all right. He car- ried ten thousand in insurance. I'll get along okay.” Turning, she left the shed. Falkner did not wait for the police. He’d had enough trouble with them for one night. Instead, he took his cab back to Scotty’s bar and walked in to find the place pretty well deserted, and the tall Scot about ready to close. Scotty set out a bottle of whisky and nodded. “I thought you’d gone home to bed.” Falkner told him: ‘“That’s what I thought. Where would you go around here if you didn’t want the cops to get their hands on you?” The old man looked at him for a long moment. “I think I’d go over to the dam. I don’t think the cops would bother you there tonight.” Falkner said: “Thanks. I’m headed there. I hope you sleep well.” CHAPTER IV T WAS well along in the afternoon of the next day before Falkner walked into the lobby of his hotel, and, crossing to the desk, inquired for mail. There were three telegrams in answer to the ones he had sent. He pocketed them and crossed the lobby to the row of phone booths. He was completely aware of the two men who watched his movements from behind a screen of palm trees ‘in the corner. But he gave no indi- cation that he had seen them. He dropped his nickel and asked for Frank Hughes when he got his con- nection. The president of the land company answered almost at once, and Guy said: “This is Falkner. I’m over at my hotel, and a couple of plain- clothes men have me cornered in the lobby. You said last night that you would help.” 10-STORY DETECTIVE Hughes got excited. “What do you want done?” Faulkner told him: “Get a lawyer and go around to the police station. Unless I’m very wrong I’m going to be arrested for murder as soon as ! step out of this booth.” He hung up, folded thc doors back and stepped out. He wasn’t wrong in his deductions. The two men were closing down at him from converging angles, which would cut off any possibility of es- cape. He attempted none. From the corner of his eye he could see the big house dick, Shay, watching proceedings from the desk. Guy raised his hand in salute and saw Shay make a warning gesture. Shay was okay. Falkner decided then that if he could ever give the big Irishman a break he would. One of the plain-clothes men was at his elbew. “We want you, Falk- ner.” Guy didn’t argue. “I’ve been ex- pecting you to close in for the last five minutes.” The taller one looked at him nar- rowly. “Oh, a wise guy.” He doubled up one fist and couldn’t quite make out whether he wanted to use it or not. He patted over Falkner’s pock- ets, was chagrined whep he failed to find a gun, and jerked his head to- ward the door. They went out to a department car parked across the street. It took them down Third fast and across town, swinging into the arched drive- way and back beside the police sta- tion. When Falkner got out he saw McCosky standing in the door looking at him. The fat man did .not move, just stood there, and his little eyes were smaller than ever. As Falkner got closer he read hate in their depths. It surprised him. It was the first emo- tion the fat man had ‘exhibited. Guy said: “How’s the diet?” McCosky turned on him and snarled: “Cop killer!” He hit Falk- ner a stunning blow in the eye. De- Conn (Cc NOOK (©