Page 37 - Demo

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He walked onward to the corner and spent ten dollars on Pete Malloy. The cabbie had taken Dunlap on an aimless ten-minute drive, and had dropped him finally at a. west side corner about a quarter to eight. He was positive about the time and positive about the street:
Tracy blinked. The spot where Dun- lap had alighted was a short block from the Hilliard home.
Tracy ducked into a whitewashed al- ley that led to the basement of the apart- ment house. The service elevator, un- tended at night, stood open and empty at the foot of the shaft. Tracy rode the car to the floor below Dunlap's and climbed the last flight, leaving the car's door jammed open in case he needed it for a quick scram.
He rang Dunlap's service bell and ducked into the shadow of the dark stairs. No one answered his ring. After a while, he opened the door quietly with his master key.
The apartment was in total darkness. Tracy tiptoed through the kitchen and pantry , went through a dining room. In the . huge adjoining living-room, he snapped on the lights and began a quick, noiseless search. What he wanted was some small object which might reason-
ably contain a set of Dunlap's finger- prints.
He didn't see any personal object small enough that could be wrapped and slipped into his pocket.
He went into the bedroom and turned on a lamp. Almost the first thing he saw was a flat gold cigarette case lying on a night table alongside an extension telephone . He wrapped it carefully in his handkerchief and slid it into his pocket.
He was turning to put out the lamp when he heard the grate of a key in the apartment's front door .
Tracy never moved faster in his life. A click, and the bedroom went black. A swift dart across soundless rugs and the living-room lapsed into darkness.
Utterly unaware that the lights had been blazing a second earlier, Ken Dun-
lap walked quickly into his living-room and snapped on the wall switch.
The few seconds interval between the slam of the apartment door and the unwelcome arrival of Dunlap had en- abled Tracy to melt noiselessly into the blackness of the bedroom. Trapped, he stood behind heavy velour curtains, watching his suspect.
Dunlap seemed to be as nervous as a cat and in a coldly vicious temper. He kept muttering a low-toned growl of profanity; but it was without emphasis, as if his mind was centered on some- thing else. He had heavy shoulders and a broad, clean-shaven face.
Tracy heard him mutter: "Mustn't get the wind up, or we'll both be lost!"
The sudden ring of a telephone bell halted Dunlap in midstride. Tracy, aware of the phone set on the night table, stiffened behind his curtain. Then he realized that its bell was silent. It was merely an extension phone; the bell was ringing in the living-room.
· Tracy tiptoed away from the . curtain and lifted the duplicate phone with cring• ing care.
He heard the sharp bite of Dunlap's voice on the wire. "Who is it?"
"Betty."
"Right-o. What's up?"
"Ken, we've got to do soinething.
Alice knows about the letters ! And I don't trust Furman. That secretary has sharp eyes and big ears."
Dunlap swore. "Don't worry, sweet. I'll take care of them both if necessary." "You'll have to risk coming here, Ken.
I've got to see you. There was a nasty little columnist here from the Daily Planet. I think he overheard Alice tell- ing me about the letters." ·
"I'll handle it. Now listen .... "
Tracy didn't wait for the rest. His only chance to get away unseen was to risk , a sneak while Dunlap was still hunched tensely over the phone outside. He lowered his own instrument gently into its cradle.
Before he could take two steps there was a sudden rush of heavy feet. The
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