15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

68 knew that Deever was going to refuse even before he had faced them. And it was the Commissioner who had made the tactical mistake of telling Si to use his younger brother as a means of giving Deever that unfortunate publicity. Better if they had merely hired Doc Leeds to kill Deever without that preliminary unsuc- cessful maneuver. But Stackie’s move had made McBride a nice scapeboat. And the gun had been perfect. Jerry, busy on the wiring, hadn’t seen or heard the drawer opening and closing. {t was this new notion of Jerry’s that held the promise of trouble. And if Si had been stupid enough to advise Stackie of who had been hired to do the ses dirty work— Doc Leeds shivered slightly. Stackie was the weak link in the chain. If he knew enough and if he talked, one Doc Leeds, one Si Coults and one ex-Commissioner of Police would be facing a very distaste- ful trial with the possibility of a black hood at the end of it. DeWitt was a thor- ough man. He smiled as he remembered the look of surprise on George Deever’s face. Hor- rid surprise as understanding came. And, even on the edge of death, George had known the proper appeal. “Doc! I'll pay—” Doc wondered what it was that George was going to pay. Not that George would ever have gone through with it. Once you show your hand, the play is made. But death with a gun was an unsatisfying thing. Death at a distance, even if it was only five feet. George had come willingly when Doc told him that there was a man watching the house. “We'll take him,” George had said. And, of course, had been taken himself, Taken a long way. Now, with one little detail to clean up, it would all be right again. They wouldn’t suspect a soft, asthmatic little man with the look of a country doctor. It was always nice to 15 Story Detective laugh at them—inside. The half fee was impressively large. And this evening he would get the balance from the ex-Com- missioner. Not in person, of course. The ex-Commissioner was a cautious man. Then Deever’s area would go to Si Coults, but at only half the profit. The other half, without overhead, would go to the ex- Commissioner. He saw the tavern door open. Si was airing the place out. The bartender would show up pretty soon. Doc walked across the street. He pulled the door shut be- hind him. Si was behind the bar. He looked up, immediately angry. “What the hell are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to come here.” “A grievous problem has arisen,” Doc said. “Jerry has had an idea. The cops, with proof that Deever was out of town last Saturday night, will soon be picking up your esteemed quarterback brother and squeezing him for information. I suspect that you are not entirely lacking in im- agination. That kills Barry’s motive for murder and puts you and me and our mutual friend in line for trouble.” “Shut up,” Si said. “Let me think. Oh, why did we let that kid in on it? Surer than hell, he’ll crack wide open.” “Naming you, me and our friend?” “No,” Si said. “He'll pass the buck to me. All he knows is that a big-shot and I hired a killer to take care of Deever.” “T find your vocabulary distasteful, but I admire your caution, That is all he knows, eh?” “That’s all.” “Then they descend on you, Si. I can- not, somehow, visualize you facing a mur- der charge without peek geseiae 1 with your associates.” “Right, Doc. If it comes to that, I'm going to want company. You and our friend.” “T thought so. If the young man is up- stairs, I can arrange it immediately.” EOPMICLOOOKS (E@)