15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

280 15 Story I answered. “The two guys. who raised all the rumpus in the Prince Club, trying to get into Dawn’s dressing room, played an encore for me later. They’re the guys you want, Mike. Name, Al and Harry. I gave you their descriptions last night. Al breaks out in a rash when you mention Detroit.” “Sounds good—on paper,” Sheil re- marked. “We were working on something like that. I teletyped those descriptions to Detroit. The boys back there say that Al’s last name is Pilar. And he’s very rough.” “That’s supposed to be news? .. .Well, that’s it. Pick ’em up.. Your case is cracked,” “You mean, your head is cracked,” he snapped. ‘What makes you think that’s all there is to it? There’s an item known as motive, you know.” I chuckled. He was playing my game. My own theory had too many _ blank spaces. The more he talked the better chance I had of filling them in. “That’s net hard, Mike. Try this. Al and Harry pulled the necklace job after Dawn selected the target. It’s tough to peddle a hunk of ice like that. She would be the logical one. to take care of it until the heat cooled off, because she left town for a legitimate reason—to come out here with the show. How’s that sound?” “Keep singing,” he said shortly. “Then Al and Harry, maybe nervous, maybe tired of waiting for the split, fol- lowed her and tried to get her to put the necklace on the market. She wouldn’t. She might have thought it was too soon —or was planning a doublecross. Maybe she told them that if they- got too tough she’d throw the switch on them for the chauffeur’s murder . . . So they either got impatient, or scared, and—well, there you are.” “And there I am,” he commented dry- ly. “Nothing but a theory. You don’t know how they killed her—if they did.” D etective,, ay. I gave him a quick guess. “Through the keyhole?” “With the key in it, on the inside? And she put her forehead wp against it, just to oblige them? Sober up, Morgan. You don’t even have the necklace, to tie Al | and Harry. to the Detroit caper. And you can't even connect Dawn to the job, out- side of the theory. That’s great.” CCN PIKE, it’s the best theory I’ve got,” I defended. “I’m sticking with it until a better one shows up. What did you find out from Jake Left, and the countess Von Berolberg? And was it a dart that killed Dawn?” “Yeah—and not much,” he replied. “The crime lab says it was from one of those German air pistols, all right. Jake’s story holds up. He was out front, except for a quick trip to the washroom. I turned him loose. The cowuntess—well that’s a little different.” “She’d had a beef with Dawn. Was she sore enough to kill her?” “The kind the countess is,” he replied, “you couldn’t bet she would stop at any- thing. She deesn’t say much, except that she’s glad Dawn is dead. I can’t figure out whether she’s scared, a psycho—or just mad at the world. We’re hanging. onto her for awhile. I’m checking Detroit on her, too.” “You're not doing any better than I am,” I told him. “Listen, Mike. It’s Al and Harry. I’m completely convinced of it. Why—” His short laugh cut me off. “T hate to see you knocking yourself out like this. Morgan, Harry is a punk named Harry Luwen. And we've got him.” My jaw nearly fell off. “Got him? You've got—”’ “A. prowl car picked him up dicey after midnight,” Sheil said, laughing at me. ‘He was staggering along the side- walk. Boys thought he was a drunk. He had lost a lot of blood from a bullet in Eomichooks (C@)