5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

JEATH TAKES cops found Ray yet?” Scott said, “Not that I know of.” “Stow that,” Harrigan said roughly. ~“You know where she is even if you won’t admit it. Now listen, I’ve got to see you both. It’s important. Here’s what you do. Both of you get into a cab and at exactly two o’clock drive through Westlake Park on Wilshire. I’ll make contact when I’m ready.” He hung up before the lawyer had a chance to answer. He looked out of the booth and saw, to his relief, that the two plainclothesmen were gone. VI By TWO O’CLOCK, Harrigan was was parked in a U-Drive-It in front of the Otis Art Institute on Wilshire. At three minutes past two, a cab with Phil Scott and Ray Gaudel in it went past him, headed west. He drove up behind them, after making sure that no one was trailing them, and followed almost to the corner of Highland, where he ma- neuvered the cab over to the curb. “Why, pal,” he said, leaning out. “Haven't seen you for a long time. Come on, ride with me.” They got out and into his car. Scott was silent; Ray Gaudel, white-faced. “Mr. Harrigan, what have you done with my son?” she asked. He grinned a little as he turned into Highland. “Safe, Ray,” he said, “but I’m in a mess, and you’ve got to help me.” She caught her breath. “You’re not lying? Hets safe?” she gasped. Harrigan nodded. “Yeah, but I’m apt to go up for kidnaping him. There’s only one way out.” “What’s that?” “Wait until we get to my apartment,” he said. Scott started to speak, then changed his mind. The girl was restless, uneasy. Harrigan pretended not to notice. He pulled up in front of his apartment house, told them to get out. “Have to get the keys from the man- NO HOLIDAY 87 ager,” he said as he led the way. “Seem to have lost mine.” He knocked at the manager’s door, got the key, and they went upstairs. In- side the apartment, he whirled around. “Now, I told you that I was in a jam,” he said, speaking to the girl. “No mat- ter what you say, the cops aren’t going to believe that I was acting for you when I took your child from that maid. But if you were to fly over to Yuma and marry me—”’ She caught her breath. “Marry you?” Scott was red-faced, angry. “What are you trying to pull, Harrigan?” Harrigan looked bland. “Nothing. Listen, Ray, I’m in a tough spot. I helped you and got into it, now it’s up to you to heip me. I can play rough if you don’t. I can make you.” “Make me?” she said slowly. He nodded. Sure—lI’ve got the boy.” She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “All right,” she said dully. “You win. I’ll marry you. But I don’t see why you should want—” “You can’t mary him, Ray,” Scott said quickly. “Don’t you see what he’s after? If your boy should happen to be dead, you are heir to a million dollars. Now, if you marry Harrigan and something should happen to you, like falling out of the plane on the way back from Yuma, Harrigan, as your husband, would in- herit that million.” Harrigan smiled. The girl looked at him, horror growing in her eyes. “You mean—” : “He means exactly what he said,” Harrigan put in, “but if you don’t marry me, something will happen to your son.” Scott laughed. It was a high, shrill sound. The man’s control was slipping. “You lose, Harrigan. You shouldn’t have brought her here to spring your proposition. The boy is safe, right here.” He turned, crossed the room with quick strides and jerked open the closet door. Staring unbelievingly into the empty closet, he stiffened, then swung around, his lips twisted in a snarl, a gun in his hand. CORAICLO® ”) S