Page 33 - Demo

PDF Studio - PDF Editor for Mac, Windows, Linux. For Evaluation. https://www.qoppa.com/pdfstudio
Station K-1-L-L 31
house," Tracy said, "with orders to tered open, then blinked dazedly. shadow him if he pulled a sneak." A moment later Butch uttered a yell Fitz nodded. "If he's innocent, he and bounced groggily to his feet. He
should have no objection to giving me a sample of his right hand."
"Suppose he refuses?"
"He can't," Fitz said grimly, "if he's arrested on suspicion of homicide."
ERT LORD'S address was a swanky apartment house on the East River fringe of the midtown district. He occupied a penthouse eighteen sto- ries up. The building had
a canopy, two doormen and a string of empty taxis outside. But Lord's pent- house afforded his comings and goings a privacy not enjoyed by the other tenants.
The entrance to his self-service ele- vator was on the river side of the build- ing. A short dead-end street extended between the building and the river wall. A few empty cars were parked there, cook and quiet in the darkness. Lord's . entrance was a small, inconspicuous door, set flush in the ground floor.
Butch was nowhere in sight.
A quick twist of the bronze doorknob showed Tracy that the lock of the pri- vate entrance was broken. He stepped into a narrow hallway that was pitch dark. Before Fitzgerald could snap on a pocket torch, Tracy stepped on an extended hand that Jay limply on the floor. .
Fitz's torch clicked a bright beam of light as Tracy recoiled with a gasp. The light centered on the back of an uncon- scious man's head. It was Butch, and he was lying flat on his face with blood oozing from a lump on his scalp.
aimed a wild swing at Kilian which the sergeant hastily ducked. Fitzgerald grabbed Butch's arm and pinioned it. His torch flared into the dazed body- guard's eyes, blinding him.
But it was Tracy's voice that cut through Butch's punch-drunk hangover from the blow on his skull.
"Snap out of it, champ! What hap- pened ? Where's Lord ?"
Butch finished his own cure by drain- ing Killan's flask.
It was Butch who had forced the lock on the street door, Tracy disclosed with a disgusted mumble. Butch had turned out the hall light himself, so he could watch the private penthouse elevator
at the end of the corridor, without run- ning the risk of being seen if someone looked in from the street.
"Just what the hell were you planning to do?" Sergeant Killan asked in a tone of blank wonder.
"Jerry told me to shadow the guy. I figured if he came down in the elevator, I'd rough the louse up, haul him back to his penthouse and phone Jerry. Ain't that what you wanted, Jerry-shadow him and then let you know how I made out?"
Killan snickered and Tracy said harshly, "Skip your detective methods and tell me what happened."
"Well, the bum wasn't upstairs at all. He musta sneaked in on gumshoes from the sidewalk while I was watchin' the elevator. I took somepin' on the skull. . . . That's nice liquor you got, Sarge."
Fitzgerald said glumly, "Looks like a pick-up after all. Lord's probably high- tailing it out of town, but a quick alarm
Tracy dropped to his knees and ought to nail him before he can get
far."
"Huh?" Fitz.stared at him with his
turned Butch over. The practical Ser-
geant Kilian shoved Jerry aside. He had
a flat half-pint flask in his hand, and he
didn't seem to mind how much of it he
spilt. Before it was half empty Butch
was gurgling weakly. His eyelids flut- mouth open.
"He ain't outa town," Butch said pa- tiently. The guys upstairs, unless he come down again."