5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

DEATH TAKES NO HOLIDAY Harrigan’s smile was deceptive. “Now look. I haven’t done a thing. The girl asked me to find a home for the kid, and I found one, I don’t know who killed Rinkle, but you can bet all the chips on the table that I’m going to find out. He was a pal of mine and he got his trying to do me a service.” “Big man talk,” Thomas sneered. “How do we know that the girl asked vou to take the kid? How do we know that you weren’t playing a little game of your own, getting ready to hold the Gaudels up for a wad of change? We’ve talked to them, too. They say that you called them last night and had them come over here. That when they got here, you offered to find the child for them for ten grand.” Harrigan made a bitter mouth. He had been about to tell Thomas about the Gaudels’ visit, but they had beat him to it, using their own version. He knew that Thomas was not kidding. He was in a tough spot, and it might be even tougher than it seemed. Wee if the blond girl were playing him for a sucker? What if she had shot her husband? What if she wanted to get rid of her child? After all, she was the baby’s nearest relative; and if he Should die, she’d inherit the million from him, now that her husband was dead. She was already under suspicion in her husband’s murder, and if anything happened to the baby while he was in her care, she’d have a time getting free. But the baby hadn’t been in her care. Both the maid and Scott would swear that Harrigan had taken him, and Mrs. Rinkle would back them up. Harrigan began to sweat a little. If the girl were pulling a fast one— But his mind refused to believe it. A nice girl like her— Harrigan didn’t altogether trust his judgment on women. It had played him false before. There was that fan dancer who had said she was single, and— Thomas’ voice recalled his straying thoughts. “Come on, stop stalling.” 83 “I’m not stalling.” Harrigan sounded angry. “Gimme time to wake up, will you? I can’t think when I’m half asleep.” “You can think on the way to the D.A.’s office,” Thomas said unkindly. “Come on, get your clothes on.” The district attorney wasn’t glad to see them. Harrigan grinned a little to himself. It was a tribute to the impor- tance of the Gaudels that the great man had dragged himself out of bed at this hour. The district attorney was short and pompous and important. He _ ruffled through some papers on his desk and cleared his throat. “Your record is anything but clean, Harrigan, but you’ve never been mixed up in anything as serious as kidnaping before.” Harrigan did not answer. He’d learned long ago when it was wise to keep his mouth shut. The district attor- ney went on: “I’ve communicated with the federal authorities, and we have also issued an order for Mrs. Gaudel to be brought in. Where is she?” Harrigan shook his head. “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “Why don’t you ask her lawyer ?” The district attorney nodded. “He’s coming down here at nine. Now, I want to warn you that you are in very serious trouble.” “T’ll say he is,” agreed Thomas who had come into the office. “This your gun?” He laid it on the desk before Har- rigan. Harrigan picked it up and saw that it was the automatic which had been miss- ing from its case before he went to bed. Yaa.” Thomas was enjoying himself. “We just checked it, and the slug that killed Rinkle came from that gun. Now, Har- rigan, you’d better start to talk.” Harrigan blinked. The gun had been missing. It had been taken from his apartment, but when and how? Also, why should the murderer have used his gun, unless he was trying to frame the OO) AMUCG (C©) SS