Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 2, 1922 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

VOICES. O27 was killed? What sort of papers were they?” Both Fenwick and King began to speak at once, but Fenwick nodded to King and the latter answered Corson. “They were documents of a confidential nature, the property of Willmer, Kirke, and King. They were in the center drawer of Kirke’s desk. Mr. Bell obtained them for me while we were waiting for you to appear. They are now in Mr. Willmer’s possession.”’ “Is that correct, Bell?”’ “ Absolutely. They were in an envelope addressed to King.” “Why didn’t you take the trouble to ad- vise me?’”’ persisted Corson. “It struck me as a detail of no conse- quence, and is as excusable as the fact that you entirely ignored all references to the papers.” “H-m! Mr. Boyden tells me that one of the voices telephoned Willmer’s office to- day, and that the call was traced to the upper level, Grand Central Station. King was at the Grand Central at the time the call was received, and a few minutes later encountered the officer who arrested Nick. Did you make a telephone call, Mr. King, from the Grand Central?” oe dids’ “Who did you call?” | ‘“ Police headquarters, to report the theft of my car. They told me it had already been reported by you.” “You made no other calls?” “Why do you ask?” ‘* Please answer my question.” ‘“T have nothing to say,” responded King coldly. “Mr. Boyden, what sort of a voice did you hear over the phone?” “Well, inspector, I’d say that the feller who was talkin’ was tryin’ to disguise his voice.” ‘“ Would you recognize the voice? you ever heard it before?” Boyden hesitated. “Well, sir,” he proceeded, “ just as soon as I heard it I kinder thought to myself: ‘ That feller sounds like Mr. Otis King!’ ” Lorraine gasped at this announcement, and steadied herself by grasping the back of a chair. Had “Ts it true, Otis?” she demanded. ‘“ Are we to believe that you are leagued with this murderous band?” “Not a bit of it, dear girl,” he denied lightly. “ Old Hawkshaw and the parson here seem to have me up a bit of a tree, but it’s only a momentary. diversion, ‘pon my honor. Let Messrs. Corson and Boy- den proceed with their bizarre entertain- ment while we remain mute but interested spectators.” “Smart, aren’t you?” yelled Corson, losing his temper at this show of King’s indifference and contempt. ‘“ You know perfectly well that I haven’t got enough of a case against you yet to hold you, espe- cially if you turn loose your high-priced legal talent! Well, I don’t give a damn how many millions you have in back of you, I’m going to get you!” King returned the inspector’s glare with a chuckle. “ Let me know if I can be of assistance,” he volunteered. “You can,” announced Corson grimly. “Hereafter I won’t make a single move on.this case unless you are with me. You are going to be my first assistant.” ‘“* You overwhelm me with honors,” pro- tested Otis. ‘‘ However, I accept. What’s our first job? Shall it be the voices, or the murderer of poor old Pendleton Kirke?” “ Otis!” -reproved the girl, shocked by the young millionaire’s flippant manner. She twisted at her handkerchief with both hands and glanced uncertainly about the room. ‘ J—I can’t stand this! I am going to my room.” She hurried past Boyden and fairly ran across the hall and up the stairs. King’s anxious gaze followed her as she fled, and then a far-away look dawned in his eyes. ‘“On some happier occasion,” he mur- mured to no one in particular, “ some one is going to pay for this!” “Td like to question your prisoner, in- spector,” announced Fenwick. “Very well. He says his name is Nick Napolielo, and that he doesn’t know a soul in this house. I don’t believe a word he says.” “Nick,” began Fenwick, “ why did you take Mr. King’s car?”’ Gomichbooksrcom