5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

WHILE THE IRON IS HOT “No, I guess not,” Mr. Bridgewater stammered. “IT thought not,” the killer said, open- ing the cloth curtain to the dressing booth. “Now you just stand there and see nobody don’t disturb me while I get into me new uniform.” Mr. Bridgewater stood in front of the booth until the killer came out. The uni- form fitted him neatly, even to the slight bump over the hip, where his gun rested, and the tailor got still sicker when he saw that the man had spotted a uniform cap hanging on a peg. he man surveyed himself in the pier glass and was satisfied. As he gave himself a final glance of approval, the front door was opened, and a big man in shirt sleeves came in. He was fuming. Behind him came Tommy with a suit over his arm. “What’s this batherin’ baloney about me suit bein’ ruint?” the man roared. “Ts it touched in the head, ye are, Bridge- water? Sendin’ me one of those old suits?” “Just a minute, just a minute,” the harried Mr. Bridgewater answered. “Just as soon as I finish with Officer Delehanty.” : “Officer Delehanty?” the newcomer repeated. “What’s that?” “Yes,” Bridgewater said quickly. “This is Officer Delehanty. I’ve been sew- ing up arip in the arm of his coat, where he caught it on a nail. I want to see if it’s all right.” Mr. Bridgewater caught the uniform coat sleeve and lifted the arm, showing the mended rip so the newcomer could see it. “That’s a good job,” he said proudly, “even if I did do it. You’d never know there was ever a tear there, would you, Mr. Delehanty ?” “No,” the killer snapped impatiently. “That’s all right. That’s all right. I’ll be getting along.” The man in shirt sleeves sucked in his breath and looked at the crook. “T’ve heard of Delehanty. Lives in this block, don’t he?” “Yes,” Bridgewater answered. “Right next door.” “That’s fine.” The customer’s jaw was square. “I’ve been having an urge to meet this Delehanty face to face. I want- ed to give him—this—” 95 HE CUSTOMER’S big fist balled up, shot out like a piston, and caught the killer a glancing blow across the chin. The killer knocked over a wom- an’s dress form as he hit the floor, dig- ging for the gun in his hip pocket. The dress form fell over on the killer just as he got his weapon out. The killer shot the dress form square in the heart. The shirt-sleeved man dived into the melee, caught the killer’s wrist with one hand and the gun with the other, and ripped the weapon out of his fist. The killer kicked the dress form in the stomach. The irate customer brought the gun barrel bouncing down half a dozen times on the killer’s head. Finally the killer lay on his side trying to shield his head with both arms. The customer got up and stood in his torn shirt sleeves, the gun covering the uniformed crook, his face red with rage. “So ye’d steal me decent Irish name and me uniform, too, would ye? Who ye think ye are, anyway ?” “He’s the man who killed Horowitz,” Mr. Bridgewater said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t figure out that I wanted you to come.” The real Officer Delehanty laughed. “Not come a-running when.ye sent word ye'd ruint me best uniform and rubbed it in my face, so to speak? I al- most punched ye before I heard ye call that crook by me own name and showed me the tear in me uniform.” He turned to the killer, “Come on back to a dressing room and get me clothes off your dirty carcass this min- ute. Come on, Bridgie, and tell me what happened while I’m watching him.” Bridgewater had his hand across his middle. “Look, Delehanty. Ever since this started, my indigestion’s been killing me. Wait till I take some bicarbonate of soda, will you? I’m hurting like crazy.” Little Tommy spoke up _ proudly. “That’s what I told Mr. Delehanty. You talked like crazy.” “Like crazy?” Delehanty grinned. “Tommy, Mr. Bridgewater is a smart man. He ought to be on the cops.” “On the cops?” Mr. Bridgewater moaned. “Ain’t I got trouble enough?” He downed the whole glass of bicarb without stopping. eee MICLOOKS (©) (C(O)