Page 29 - Demo

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throu gh the skull first. When you're mad enough to kill a guy twice, you don't aim at the heart. That was prob- ably done to make sure. Hard to set the time. Could have been a half hour, could have been an hour and a half."
"He was alive at 8:32," Tracy said slowly. "That's when he phoned me at the broadcasting studio. I'd just fin- ished my program."
until a quarter of nine. We know Hil- liard was alive until 8 :32 at least. "
Tracy nodded. Nick White's word could be trusted. He was a fine old Iri s hman , a veteran producer and a friend of both Tracy and Fitzgerald.
Tracy got shakily to his feet and went over to the tall cabinet in the corner. Mounting a chair, he fished carefully behind the books and papers atop the cabinet with a handkerchief-wrapped
Fitz gave a quick yelp of excitement as he saw the gun.
"I managed to toss it up there just before Lo rd tackled me." Tracy sa id. "That's what he came back for."
"That might fit," Grady said. "Body's
still fai-rly warm. No time for rigor hand.
mortis. He probably took it while you were on the way over here. The killer was either mad with rage or a blasted psycopath. I may have more dope after the autopsy. Good night, Fitz. "
He went out with a brisk tread.
"I heard your broadcast tonight, ing care.
J err y," Fitz said abruptly. " Did that crack you made about Hilliard's adopted daughter have anything to do with this kill?"
"English make, eh ? A W ebiey. Two chambers fired. All right, H a nley , give it the works."
Station K-I-L-L
27
Hanle y was the finger-print man. He Tracy glanced at Alice. Her pale took the weapon over to Hilliard' s desk.
face seemed drained of everything but an overpowering exhaustion.
"Tell him, Jerry."
While he was busy, Sergeant Killan came in. Kilian was Fitz 's right-hand man. H e had a hoarse , friendly voice, a cobblestone head and a mouth like a mailbox slit.
Tra cy shrugged. He told of the scan-
dal tip he had received over the phone
from some unknown woman. He told
of his check-up on it, and recounted the
attempt on his life on the way to the
broadcast. He showed Fitz the flattened "Hilliard's wife flew the coop all right. slug and the white carnat ion which the
escaping gunman had dropped.
"I'm certain it was Ber t L ord. Hav-
ing failed to wipe me out before I could stare. "Were they both in the house ruin him on the radio, he rushed over when Hilliard sent you over to see Nick
Whit e?"
stolen from Alice's bag, and bumped "Yes. Both of them came into the
Hilliard. He must have figured some study to talk to Hilliard. Marcom-
here, let himself in with a key he had
stunt to get every one else out of the
house... . By the way, where were you,
that's the butler-had some tradesmen' s bills that had to be okayed . Mrs. Hil - liard usually listen ed with her husband to the Trac y broad cast. But tonight she said she had a sick headache. She went up to her room to lie down just before I left the house."
Over at the dead man's desk the fin- ger -print man sudden ly ceased hi s mo- notonous whistling of a popular tune.
"Good news, Fitz," he said.
Furman?" Fit zgerald
answered
for
the
secre-
tary.
"His alibi is O.K. Jerry . Hilliard sent
him over to the Delton Hotel to see Nick White about a show Hilliard was thinking of backing. I checked on that and Nick verified Furman' s story. He was in Nick's suite from eight o'clock
Fitz took the gun with almost cring-
"W hat did you find out upstairs?" Fitzgerald snapped.
"Not a thing," Kilian said cheerfully . So did the butler. Nothing upstairs to
explain why."
Tracy gave Walter Furman a slow