15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

70 ‘em as they come out. I'll call Freeman, Kelly and Bikel off and shoot you a couple prowl cars. They brought Jerry Schaydel in a few minutes ago. Right.” He hung up the phone and smiled. Things were shaping up quickly. * bs * “Watch him, Stackie!”’ Barry said. “That guy is dynamite.”’ “Who are you kidding?” Stackie said. He hitched up his pajama pants. “I’m going to take him apart with my hands. I saw him do that to Si. Barry began to move’ cautiously toward the telephone. “Don’t you go near him, Stack,” “Now,” Stackie said to Doc, “get your- self set, old man.” Doc sighed. It wasn’t going well. He noted Barry’s progress toward the phone. The boy advancing on him looked quick and hard. Foolishly, Stackie reached out with his left hand and grabbed the front of Doc’s suit. Doc held his hands up, palms out- ward, in a helpless defensive gesture. ‘Stackie smiled tightly and swung. One of the hands cupped over his fist, clamp- ing down suddenly on the little finger knuckle, bending it back so that Stackie gasped and his knees bent. Doe hit him, almost casually, in the side of the throat, under the ear, with the edge of his hand. Stackie dropped in a boneless way and lay still. *Get away from the phone, McBride,” Doc said sadly. “So you crossed Deever,” Barry said. He moved away from the phone, slid along behind the bar. He was frankly running from the man. And it didn’t hurt his pride, There was something of in- credible evil in the pale eyes behind the rimless glasses, With a smooth motion Barry took a bottle from the back bar and threw it 15 Story Detective through the plate glass out onto the street. He followed it with a second one before the clatter of falling glass had stopped. Doc stopped his slow forward move- ment. His mouth worked. “Brighter than [ thought,’”’ he said acidly. “Brains, yet.”’ He tilted his head back and opened his mouth. “Help!” he yelled, with all the strength of his lungs. “Help, Police!” They came swarming through the door, guns in hand. Doc was a trembling wreck. “Arrest them!’ he shrilled. “Arrest them both. I saw the big one kill that man over there at the foot of the stairs and then he tried to kill that one on the floor by the bar. I broke the window.”’ “Put your hands on top of the bar, Mc- Bride,” the nearest plainclothesman said. “Keep ’em close together. No tricks.” “T’ll come along, but bring Doe too. Stackie will tell you what happened.” The man who had been examining Stackie straightened up. “This one needs an ambulance. I can hardly feel his pulse.” Barry looked at Doc and saw the ex- pression of complacency. Steel was cool around Barry’s wrists. “Put some on him too,” Barry said. “No need, no need,” Doc said briskly. “T'll be glad to testify. Sirens moaned in the distance, drawing closer. DeWitt had listened separately to. the stories of Leeds, McBride, Jerry Schaydel and Laura Kinger. Ed Crainstock had been a silent witness to the questioning. The testimony had been transcribed as they talked. DeWitt and Crainstock carefully laid their plans. Outside the day was turning to dusk. “Okay, DeWitt said, “take ’em all into the big room. I'll be along in a moment.” Crainstock left. He phoned a number. “Ah, good evening. Captain DeWitt speaking. Remember our little talk of the COPMICLOOOKS (E@)