5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

78 because I’d get a lot of fun out of telling you to go to the devil. Now, get out of here, you crook, before I let myself go and heave you out on your slimy neck.” They went. Harrigan was still angry when the door buzzer sounded again five minutes later. He stomped into the entry, think- ing that his unwelcome visitors had re- turned. This time, it was the girl who stood there. Harrigan’s knees went a little weak at sight of her. She looked lovely, with her fair hair shining against her dark coat. She slipped in and quickly shut the door. “Mr. Harrigan,” she said, and his name had never sounded so nice, “I need help.” He took her small hand in his big pa and smiled down at her. “You came to the right place, romer Who is it you want me to kill?” The strained look left her eyes, and she smiled. Then she turned very sober. “It isn’t that,” she said anxiously, “but I’m afraid for my son. He’s so lit- tle, and none of this is his fault. But they want to get hold of him. He’s worth a miNion to them.” Harrigan said, “Who?” although he knew the answer before he asked. “The Gaudels,” she answered. “They would stop at nothing. You’d think that it would make a difference to them that my son is their own flesh and blood, but it doesn’t. All they want is to get control of him so that they’ll have the income from his trust fund until he is twenty- one.” “But what good will it do them to get possession of the child if you are his guardian?” asked the detective. “They’ll bring action in court. They’re trying to show that I’m not a fit person to have him in my charge.”’ She sounded bitter. “As if they were fit. But as long as they don’t know where he is or wheth- er he’s in the jurisdiction of the court, they can do nothing. That’s what Phil Scott tells me.” Harrigan’s generous mouth tightened a little at mention of the lawver’s name, FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE then it relaxed, and he asked: “And what do you want me to do?” “I want you to go get the boy,” she said. “I want you to put him in a safe place somewhere and keep him there un- til I let you know. I don’t even want to know where he is because if I’m sum- moned into court, I want to be able to swear that I don’t know where he is.” Harrigan frowned at her, and she saw the look. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Harrigan. You’re thinking that I am an unnatural woman, that I’m ready to send my son off with someone who is little more than a stranger, but that isn’t so. It’s like tearing the heart from my body to do this, but I’m desperate. I haven’t any other place to turn. I’m _ being watched. I can’t go to him. I may be arrested for murder at any time, and in that case the court would certainly take him from me. It’s either you or Phil Scott, and they would think that he had him. They aren’t apt to think of you.” Harrigan opened his mouth to tell her about the visit which he had just re- ceived from the Gaudels, father and son, but changed his mind. She had enough to worry about without that. “All right,” he said, “I guess I can " get in any deeper than I am. Where’s the kid?” HE ALMOST wept with relief. Had she been the crying kind, Harrigan would not have known how to handle her. He was glad she didn’t cry. “All right,” he said. “All right. Take it easy, and everything will be okay.” She fumbled her purse open, found a wad of money and thrust it into his hand. He tried to tell her that this wasn’t necessary, but she would not listen. “Take it,” she urged. “It really be- longs to Jack—my boy, I mean. It’s his money and it should be used in taking care of him.” Harrigan did not argue further. “All right, where’s the kid?” “In the chambermaid’s room in the building where I live,” she said. “I didn’t MICLOO (C(O) cS