5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

74 Nice picture, huh?” Thomas was unmoved. “Go on.” Harrigan shrugged. “They had a kid, a boy. Ed Gaudel’s mother died and by her will left one million dollars to the boy. He’s two, and whoever takes care of him gets the income from that mil- lion. “Last year, two companies in which the Gaudel tribe had a lot of money tied up failed. The old man and Morton were hard pressed, their apartment houses were mortgaged. They could have used that million. “In the meantime, Ed Gaudel and Ray separated, and Ray got the kid. But the Gaudels started a court fight to get con- trol of him. So Ray disappeared. “Our agency located her four days ago. She didn’t have the kid with her at the little hotel she was using, so we figured she had another place some- where. I tailed her, and she ran to cover here. I called Gaudel, and that’s the story.” Thomas nodded. “So he came up to see her,” he said, “and she blew a hole in his vest. Sad, very sad. But 1 never trust blondes.” “Now listen.” Harrigan was getting red-faced. “I called you because I thought that, of all the muggs at the sheriff’s office, you might have some sense. As sure as my name is Harrigan, that girl didn’t kill Gaudel, although if - she had, I wouldn’t blame her. “You heard her say that she wasn’t here, that she was up on the roof. Well, Gaudel hadn’t been dead long when I walked in. His body wasn’t cold, and in the time between my phone call to him and when I found him, he didn’t have much more than just time enough to get here.” Thomas was not impressed. “Look,” he said, “who are you work- ing for—Gaudel or the dame?” “I’m not working for anyone, stupid,” Harrigan answered. “I’m just trying to help.” “Then how did you happen to be here?” FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE ie WAS a question that Harrigan had been dreading from the first. He stalled for an instant, then lied. “I just came up to see if Gaudel had found her all right. That would have ended the case for us.” Thomas wasn’t satisfied. Harrigan could tell by his look. He added: “Look, pal. The little lady didn’t shoot, see, but if she had, what would she have done with the gun?” “She probably took it up to the roof and tossed it away,” Thomas said. “Or stuffed it under a cushion on the _ divan,”.a voice said behind them. Turn- ing, they saw one of Thomas’ assistants earrying a .38 carefully wrapped in a handkerchief. The deputy pounced on the gun. “Where'd you find that?” “At the end of the couch,” the man said. “There are no prints. At least, there don’t seem to be. Someone wiped them off, but look.” He turned the gun sideways, and they saw engraved on the metal: Ray from Ed. Don’t ever use this on me. The deputy laughed harshly. “Looks like Gaudel was a prophet,” he said. “T’ll bet, when he walked in and found himself facing her with that gun in her fist, he wished he’d never given it to her.” “There’s a flock of newspaper Men outside,” his assistant informed him. Thomas growled, “Chase them—no, wait. I’ll talk to them.” He turned and went out. Harrigan went back into the front room. The girl was sitting in a chair beside the big front window, staring out at the dark sky. She turned as Harri- gan came in and gave him a wisp of a smile, which faded almost as soon as it had appeared. He cleared his throat. “Look, Ray,” he said, “they found your gun, the one Gaudel gave you. That makes it bad.” “My gun!” She showed surprise. “But, Mr. Harrigan, I didn’t have any gun here. The only one I ever owned was COmniclo® (C S