“WHERE to, boss?” the driver asked, as soon as we had settled down.
“Keep driving,” I returned, shoving Whisky’s foot out of my chest. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had time to think.”
Myra and Whisky were making a great fuss over each other, and I had to tell Whisky that when I wanted his tongue over my face I’d let him know.
“It’s certainly nice to see you again,” Whisky said, panting with excitement. “I’d given you both up for lost.”
“We’d given ourselves up for lost,” I said, taking Myra’s hand. “It’s a good thing you learned to float, sugar.”
“You know, I just can’t help it,” Myra said apologetically. “But I must get some undies. I just haven’t any confidence without them.”
“What have you done with them?” Whisky asked, pricking up his ears.
“Don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “It’ll take too long. Never mind about your undies. The cops are looking for you. They’ve only to hear I’ve been seen with a blonde and a dog and they’ll come after us like bats out of hell.”
“Very well,” Myra said, settling back. “But you’ve no idea how it preys on my mind.”
“The point to concentrate on is where do we go from here?” I said.
“That, I think, is for you to decide,” Myra said, slipping her hand into mine. “I’ll go where you say.”
“I’ve got to put you in some place where the cops won’t find you. Then I’ve got to get hold of Arym.”
“Who’s Arym?” Myra asked, puzzled.
“Your other self, my pet,” I said lightly. “That’s what she calls herself. If I get her, then you’ll be in the clear.”
“But how are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even going to think about it. I must first find a hide-out for you.” Then I remembered Harriet. “I know,” I said, and leaning forward I told the driver to stop at the first public telephone.
“This do you?” he asked, cutting across the traffic and drawing up outside a drug store.
“Yeah,” I said, then to Myra, “wait here, I’ve got to ‘phone.”
I found there was only one telephone booth when I got into the drug store and some dame was using it.
I went over to the soda-jerker behind the counter. “Is that lady going to be long?” I asked.
“I’ve got a taxi outside and I’m in a hurry.”
He shook his head. “She’s about through,” he said. “Anyway, I figure it that way. She’s been in there since noon and she must have used up most of the air in that little booth by now.
I thanked him. He had a pretty good grip on his business because the woman suddenly hung up and stepped out of the booth. She nodded to the soda-jerker and went out into the Street.
“What they find to talk about,” he began, leaning on the counter, but I didn’t wait to hear any more. I shut myself in with the telephone and put a call through to the Recorder.
Harriet was tied up with Mr. Maddox, I was told.
“Well, can’t you send someone in to cut her loose?” I demanded. “This is important.”
“How important would you say?” the switchboard girl asked. She didn’t sound impressed.
“Her apartment’s on fire and her old man’s trapped up on the roof,” I lied. “If that’s important to you, I guess you might do something about it.”
“I can’t interrupt Mr. Maddox for that,” she replied. “How long has he been upon the roof?”
I would have liked to have been right behind that baby. I’d have surprised her.
“Look,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how long he’s been up there. The point is the place is on fire and he gets dizzy when he’s high up. He wants to see his daughter before anything happens to him.”
“Well, I’ll tell her when she’s through with Mr. Maddox,” the girl replied curtly and rang off.
Maybe she didn’t believe me.
I had to leave the booth to get some change and when I got back some guy was entering the booth.
“Look, mister,” I pleaded. “I’ve got a priority. Would you mind giving way to me?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got a priority too,” he said. “My wife’s apartment’s on fire…”
“I know and she’s up on the roof,” I skid, in disgust.
He looked at me sharply. “I wonder how you knew that,” he returned, then he suddenly shrugged. “Well, hell I’ll wait. There’s plenty for her to look at up there.”
I thanked him and got back to the Recorder. “If you don’t put me through to Miss Halliday,” I said when I got the operator, “I’ll fix you good some dark night.”
“Let’s make a date,” she replied promptly. “The trouble is the nights are never dark enough these days.”
“How can they be?” I said, wanting to strangle her. “Well, you know what I mean. How dark does it have to be?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ll just choose the first dark night that comes along,” I said, snarling.
“I can’t do business on those lines,” she replied, giggling. “I like something definite. How about to-night? To-morrow there’s a new moon and it’ll be too light for fixing.”
Something jogged my memory. “New moon?” I repeated. “Did you say there’ll be a new moon to-morrow?”
“Sure, I have to watch little things like that. They make an awful difference in a girl’s life.”
“Never mind about your life,” I said quickly. “What’s the date?”
“July 31,” she replied. “Have you been shipwrecked or something?”
I nearly dropped the receiver. The end of the month. I remembered what Doc Ansell had said. Myra would lose her influence at the end of the month when the moon changed. I looked hurriedly at the clock on the wall. It was just five-fifteen. I had only seven hours to get everything fixed up.
“Hello… hello… hello?” the girl said. “Are you still there?”
“I think so,” I said cautiously. “Will you see how Miss Halliday’s getting on?”
“How about that date?”
“Sure, make it to-night. I’ll pick you up.”
“But how shall I know you?”
“Who, me? You’ll know me all right. I’ll be wearing a Zoot suit and I carry my left leg over my right shoulder. No one’s mistaken me yet.”
There was a moment’s silence. “Can’t you do anything about that left leg?” she asked at last.
“I can leave it at home.”
“Couldn’t you be a little rough with it for to-night?” she asked hopefully. “I’d stand the Zoot suit but the leg gets me down.”
“That’s the idea,” I pointed out.
She thought about this for a moment. “It’s a date,” she said briskly. “Miss Halliday’s free now. I’m putting you thr—r—r—ough.”
Harriet was all brains. I didn’t have to go into details. She got what I wanted almost before I had started. She told me where her apartment was and how to get in and she promised to be back early. I thanked her and rang off. I felt I’d lost ten pounds by the time I got out of the booth. I collided with the guy waiting to put through his call. He apologized.
“Excuse me, pal,” he said. “Can you remember what I wanted to telephone about?” I told him.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’ve got the darnedest memory. Do you know I just can’t remember whether the fire was to-day or last week. Ain’t that a hell of a thing?”
I shoved past him and went out into the street.
I found Whisky lying on the floor of the taxi, but Myra wasn’t there.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“Get inside,” Whisky said. “Where have you been?” The urgency in his voice startled me, so I got into the cab and shut the door.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“How much longer are you keeping me here?” the driver asked angrily. “I’ve got a home if you haven’t.”
Whisky showed his teeth. “Sit there and like it,” he snarled. The driver got out of his cab hastily. “Come on, legs,” he said, clutching at his collar. “I’m going to start running.”
“Come back when you’re through,” I said. “You’ve got a nice evening for it.” The driver didn’t listen. He began running madly down the street.
I turned my attention to Whisky. “Now,” I said, “where did she go?”
“Keep down,” Whisky said in a mysterious mutter. “The cops have moved in.”
“What?” I exclaimed, startled. “What do you mean? Have they got her?”
“A couple of minutes and it’ll all be over,” he returned with ghoulish gloom. “She’s in that lingerie shop across the street. The moment you’d gone, she spotted it and made a dart for it. I hadn’t time to reason with her. There was a copper on the corner and he saw her. It took him just five seconds to call the riot squad. They’ve just moved in.”
I looked across the street. Two patrolmen stood outside the smart modiste shop, looking with interest at the various garments displayed in the windows.
“Why don’t they bring her out?” I said, feeling a little sick.
“How do I know?” Whisky said peevishly. I could see he was as worried as I was.
“Well, I’m not staying here,” I said, “I’m going to see what’s cooking. You wait here,” and I left the taxi and crossed the Street.
The two patrolmen looked like they were going to stop me, but I kept walking and they let me through.
The first guy I set eyes on was Clancy.
“Well, well,” I said, smiling at him. “Buying something for the little woman?”
“There you are!” he 8aid, swelling with rage. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where is she?”
I took a quick gander round the shop. It was certainly a nice place. The guy who’d put it together had taken a lot of pains to get it just right. It was all chromium furniture, mirrors and concealed lighting. The carpet was so thick that it tickled my ankles. There were a number of alcoves round the room containing life-size models on which were displayed bathing suits, lingerie and evening gowns. Some of these models were so snappy that I took a second look to make sure I wasn’t passing anything up.
At the far end of the room, a patrolman stood guard over a group of girls. He seemed to be enjoying his job. I could understand that. The girls looked like they had been lifted straight out of the front line of the Follies. There was a nervous looking guy in morning clothes, fussing around. I guessed he was the manager of the shop.
But there was no sign of Myra.
I turned my attention to Clancy. “Where’s who?” I asked. “Why don’t you relax sometimes, old boy? Life ain’t all work. Take a gander at those wenches huddling in the corner. Don’t they stir your pulse?”
“Don’t give me that stuff,” Clancy said, looking fierce. “She was seen coming in here and now you turn up. Do you think I’m dumb?”
“She… she… she?” I repeated. “What are you talking about? What she?”
“This Shumway bird,” Clancy said, clenching his fists and looking homicidal. “You’d better be careful, Millan. She’s wanted for murder.”
“I know, I know. But, what have I got to do with it? I just got here,” I said. “Haven’t you searched the joint? And listen, Clancy, while we’re on the subject, you’d better be careful. My paper won’t stand for me being kicked around.”
That slowed him up. He vented his temper on the cops.
“Don’t stand there like a bunch of stuffed eels,” he snarled. “Look for her. Turn this joint upside down. Take it to pieces. She’s here, so find her!”
The manager came rushing up. “I won’t have it!” he spluttered. “You can’t go into the dressing rooms. My customers wouldn’t stand for it. This is an unpardonable, unwarranted outrage!”
“Wait a minute,” Clancy said to the cops. Then he turned on the manager. “Do you think I care what you’ve got to say? A woman came in her five minutes ago and she’s still here. Where did she go?”
The manager wrung his hands. “I put her in that dressing room,” he said, pointing to an empty room near one of the alcoves. “She’s vanished. I didn’t see what happened to her.”
“Well, she’s somewhere around,” Clancy said, between his teeth. “Send one of your dames into all those rooms and get every woman out of ’em.”
“This should be good,” I said. “A great out-door playboy like you wouldn’t know that dames go in those rooms to undress.”
“Keep out of this!” Clancy bellowed. “I’m going to find that dame if it’s the last thing I do.”
“It certainly will be the last thing you do if you drive a lot of undressed society dames out of hiding,” I returned. “Captain Summers’ wife buys stuff here.”
He pushed his face into mine. “If you don’t pipe down, I’ll make you sorry you were born,” he said violently, but I could see that I’d shaken him. “You want this girl to get away, don’t you? Well, she ain’t getting away.”
I shrugged. “Go ahead,” I said. “It’s your funeral.”
He turned back to the manager. “Get ’em out!” he ordered. “Everyone of ’em. She’s hiding somewhere in those rooms and she’s wanted for murder!”
The manager hesitated, then he decided that there was nothing he could do about it. He told off a couple of the girls and they went from cubicle to cubicle.
In five minutes about six women, in wraps, were standing indignantly before Clancy, who looked as if he were going out of his mind. Myra wasn’t among them.
While he was staring at them, I wandered round looking at the wax models. I began to suspect where Myra was hiding. Sure enough, one of them looked familiar. I looked again and Myra met my eyes imploringly. She had on a smart black frock and a large floppy hat which hid her face. Standing with the other models, it was impossible to spot who she was until you got right up to her.
“Go away,” Myra hissed. “Don’t look at me.”
“But I must look at you,” I said in an undertone. “I love you for one thing and you look terrific for another. Are you scared, sweetheart?”
“Terribly,” she said. “But, do go away.”
“I’m going,” I said, “but I’ll be back.”
As I turned away, one of the saleswomen came to me.
“Hello,” she said.
I looked at her and paused. She was a red-head. Now, I like red heads. I like them particularly if they have a nice creamy skin, green eyes and a lot of curves. This one had everything, so I said, “Hullo,” and raised my hat.
“Were you thinking of buying that dress?” she asked, smiling. “I’d just love to help you.”
I glanced over at Clancy. He was still trying to explain himself to the indignant women.
“It did cross my mind,” I said cautiously, “but I’ve got nothing to fill it with when I get it home.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she said, sidling a little closer. “The trouble is having too many girls and not enough dresses to go round.”
“I like it that way,” I said simply. “I’m a man of nature.”
She blinked just once, but it didn’t stop her entirely.
“There’s something in my book of rules about men of nature,” she said, looking puzzled. “I just can’t remember what it was right now.”
“Lady,” I said earnestly, “you don’t need any rules. You ought to get along all right by your instincts.”
“That’d be like driving a car with no brakes,” she said. “I know my instincts better than you.”
She began to interest me.
“Maybe we’ll go for a drive together one of these days,” I said hopefully.
“Let’s not make too many plans,” she returned. “Let’s concentrate on this dress.” She turned back to Myra. “Don’t you think I’d look cute in it?”
“Not half so cute as without it,” I said hurriedly.
“I don’t think I like that remark,” she said. “It doesn’t indicate a sound business footing.”
“Who cares about a business footing?” I returned. “Let’s go somewhere and forget business.”
“Keep concentrating on this dress,” she said insistently. “I know I’d look good in it. Let me put it on and show you.”
“Some other time” I began, and stopped because she had put her hand on Myra’s arm.
“It’s awfully attractive,” she said wistfully. Then a look of puzzled fright entered her eyes and she pressed Myra’s arm.
I hastily took her hand away. “I used to be a palmist,” I said. “Let me read your lines.”
“So long as we’re thinking of the same lines,” she returned, trying to smile, but all the time she kept staring at Myra with growing uneasiness. “Do you know that dummy felt almost human,” she went on in a low voice.
“Yeah?” I said, patting Myra’s hip. “Isn’t it marvelous what they do with papier mŕché these days?”
I still kept hold of her hand and she began to calm down. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw Myra move. Still keeping her fixed pose, she rose a foot into the air and remained there. I came out in a cold sweat
The red bead had her back to Myra, so she didn’t see what was going en. I put my hand on Myra’s shoulder and pushed her back on her stand again and held her there.
“Can you really read my lines?” the red head asked.
“Well, I took a correspondent course a few months back,” I said, feeling like hell. “I can only read the past up to now, but I hope to get around to the future sometime next week.”
I released Myra for a second. She began to rise off the ground, so I hung on to her again. The red-head hastily snatched her hand from mine. “I’ll wait until next week,” she said, “I know all about my past. That’s something I like to keep to myself.”
That came as no surprise, but I didn’t tell her so.
“You seem to like that model,” she said, “or can’t you make up your mind?”
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to hold Myra and just for a moment, she succeeded in rising a few inches before I slammed her back again.
The red-head drew in a sharp breath. “Is—is it trying to get away?” she said fearfully.
“There’s a draught in this joint,” I explained. “These models are mighty light.”
She backed away. “You know I don’t like that old model,” she said. “I just don’t like it at all.”
Clancy, who had got rid of the indignant women, joined us. He was sweating freely and he looked mad.
“What are you pawing that dummy for?” he demanded.
“I’m that kind of a guy,” I said desperately. “I go for dummies in a big way.”
The red-head said, “There’s something about that old model. It’s trying to fly away.” Clancy looked at her suspiciously. “What do you mean… fly away?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But that’s what it’s trying to do.”
“Pay no attention to her, Clancy,” I said quickly. “She’s not herself to-day.”
Clancy looked at me and then he looked at Myra. “So that’s it,” he said between his teeth.
“I might have known it. So that’s where she’s hiding,” and before I could stop him he’d whipped off Myra’s hat.
Myra didn’t blink an eye-lash. She just stood there, her eyes blank and her body rigid. Clancy stared at her. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s her all right. You can cut that dummy act out. You’re under arrest,” he went on to Myra.
I took my hand from Myra’s shoulder and stepped back. As Clancy moved forward to grab her she floated out of his reach. Still keeping her stiff pose, she rose about ten feet in the air.
It certainly upset Clancy. He closed his eyes.
“Gawd!” he said. “What a horrible sight!”
“What’s worrying you?” I asked. “Haven’t you heard of the new lighter-than-air models? It helps solve the transportation problems,” and I patted him on the back.
“Never mind about the transportation problems,” he said, looking at Myra from between his fingers. “I’ve got my own problems to worry about just now.”
Then Whisky wandered into the shop.
In the general confusion no one noticed his entrance. The saleswomen were screaming, while the shop manager had collapsed on the floor and was jerking feebly at his collar. The cops just stood rooted, staring at Myra in horror.
To make matters worse, the red-head had thrown her arms round my neck and was screaming wildly in my ear.
It was a pretty good time for Whisky’s entrance. He came straight over to me. “You haven’t been long getting yourself fixed up,” he said approvingly. “That’s quite a pretty trill you’ve got there.”
The effect of this speech was electrifying. The red-head gave a stifled moan and slid to the floor in a faint. Clancy backed away, his face like a flour bag, while everyone else in the room stopped making noises and clutched one another.
“And now do you believe my story about talking dogs and floating women?” I said to Clancy. “It’s all here for you to see.”
“I’ll believe anything,” Clancy said, shivering. “This is too much for me. You’ve all got to see the captain.”
Whisky peered into the red-heed’s face “Odd how these dames pass out, isn’t it?” he said and began to lick her face energetically.
I caught him a quick kick where it’d do him the most good. He gave a startled curse and removed his tail hurriedly.
“Leave her alone,” I said sternly. “Besides, all that make-up might poison you.”
“As a matter of fact,” Whisky said with a leer, “it was extraordinarily tasty. But apart from that, I was just trying to revive her.”
“She doesn’t need reviving,” I returned. “She’s happier the way she is.”
“Can’t you stop him?” Clancy pleaded, gaping at Whisky as if he was some monster. “I can’t stand any more of this.”
Myra swooped past me. “What do we do now?” she asked. “Shall I run away?”
“No,” I said. “We can’t go on like this. We’ll all go along to Summers and let him sort everything out.”
She settled lower and then stretched out within my grasp. I pulled her to me and kissed her.
“It’ll be all right,” I promised. “They’ll have to listen to reason.”
Clancy tried to pull himself together. “Can’t you persuade that dame to stand on her feet?” he pleaded. “It’s doing me no good at all seeing her that way.”
Myra frowned at him. “I’m not considering you,” she said. “You’ve never done anything for me.”
“You remain like that,” I urged. “The more people who see you like that the more witnesses we’ll have. Let’s go, sweetheart.”
I took her by her shoulders and began pushing her towards the door.
It must have been a pretty upsetting sight. Myra lay full length, suspended in the air, with her hands folded across her chest. It was like pushing a perambulator that hadn’t any wheels.
Whisky fell in step beside me. “Going through the streets like that, old pal?” he asked.
“That’s the idea,” I said firmly, leaving Myra in mid-air while I opened the shop door.
“Hey!” Clancy said, running up to me. “You can’t do a thing like that!”
“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” I said grimly.
He looked round desperately. “You guys!” he shouted to the cringing patrolmen. “Get these two into the wagon.”
The patrolmen hesitated and then approached us warily.
“I think we’re going to have a little trouble,” I said to Myra. She lowered her feet to the ground. “Leave this to me,” she said, her eyes snapping fire, “I’ve been very good up to now. If they’re going to be nasty then I’ll be nasty, too.”
Now she was on the ground, the patrolmen seemed to regain some of their courage. They came towards us in a body.
Myra flickered her fingers at them and they suddenly paused. “It’s beginning to rain,” one of them said uneasily.
“What are you talking about?” Clancy snarled. “It doesn’t matter if it rains! Arrest that woman!”
A big Irish cop extended his hand and then went a little pale.
“Holy Moses!” he said in a strangled voice. “It’s raining in here!”
I thought Clancy would go out of his mind. “It don’t rain indoors, you punk!” he stormed.
“I’ll tear that badge off your coat if you don’t do what I tell you!”
Myra flicked her fingers in his direction and almost immediately he stiffened. “Gawd!” he said looking up at the ceiling. “It is raining!”
“Didn’t I tell you,” the Irish cop said feverishly. “I think I’ll get out of here.”
This intrigued me. Over each patrolman and Clancy I could see a light sprinkle of water falling. It didn’t come from the ceiling but seemed to start a few feet above them.
As they moved uneasily the shower of water followed them. It was the damnedest thing I’d ever seen.
“Are you doing this?” I whispered to Myra.
“Certainly,” she said. “Didn’t you know I could make rain? It’s an old Naguale custom.” She suddenly spied the red-head who was sitting up in a dazed kind of way. “And a little rain might improve that young woman’s complexion,” she went on grimly.
She flicked her fingers in the red-head’s direction.
There was no question of a sprinkle of water this time. It began to rain in torrents. The redhead screamed wildly and getting to her feet, she dashed round the room. The narrow ribbon of pouring water followed her ruthlessly. In a few seconds she was soaked to the skin.
“I think that will do,” Myra said, looking pleased. “She’s not nearly so attractive, is she?” Right now the red-head looked like something that’d got lost in a river.
“You’re right,” I said, wondering if I was losing my mind. Myra flicked her fingers and the rain stopped.
The cops and Clancy began mopping themselves with their handkerchiefs. The red-head lay on the floor and drummed hysterically with her heels.
“If there’s any more talk about wagons,” Myra said coldly, “it’ll begin raining again.”
“Do what you like, lady,” Clancy said brokenly. “I ain’t making trouble.”
Myra resumed her suspended position. “Push me through the streets,” she said to me. “All the way to police headquarters. Then we’ll have lots of witnesses, won’t we?”
As I began to push her to the door again, Sam Bogle entered the shop.
One look was enough to see that Sam had been hitting the bottle. He didn’t look at any of us except Myra.
“Don’t think you’re getting away with it,” he said. “Doc was a pal of mine and no jury can kill a pal of mine and get away with it.”
We were all so startled that no one moved. Myra lowered her feet to the floor and faced him.
“I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly. “You ought to know that, Sam.”
“You killed him all right,” Sam said, his eyes gleaming evilly.
“Well, this is where you get yours.”
“Look out!” Whisky shouted and sprang forward.
He was too late. Sam fired from his hip. I saw the flash from the gun. Myra took two tottering steps forward. Then she spread out on the floor.
No one could do anything but stare. Sam let the gun slide out of his hand.
Then I ran to Myra. As I bent over her, I heard Sam’s voice wailing.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he kept saying “Honest to Gawd, I didn’t mean to do it.”
I went into the little room with Whisky.
Myra was lying flat. She looked small and white and just to see her turned my heart over.
I sat down and took her hand.
She opened her eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said.
Whisky pushed his long muzzle on the bed. She touched his ears for a moment before turning to me again.
“There was no one big enough to keep me out,” I said, trying to smile. “Please get well, sweetheart, I can’t get along without you.”
“I’ll get well,” she said, “only, I’m tired. I’ll be better when I’ve had some sleep. I don’t want to stay awake any more.”
“Listen, kid, the doctor says you’re not trying,” I went on, stroking her wrist, “you must fight. There’s Whisky and me wanting you. You can’t pass us up.”
“It’s awfully hard,” she said drowsily. “I have only half my resistance. If my other half were here I know I’d be all right.”
Then I realized why she couldn’t get well. She had to have Arym to help her fight. Before I could say anything, a nurse came in and beckoned to me.
I petted Myra’s hand. “I’ll be back,” I said. “Promise you’ll wait for me.”
She kept her eyes open with an effort. “Come back soon,” she said urgently.
I went out into the hall again.
Summers said, “She’s pretty bad, isn’t she?”
“I guess so,” I returned. “Can I take a walk around the block! This place gives me a pain.”
“Sure,” he said sympathetically, “I know how you feel.”
I went over to Bogle. “Cheer up,” I said, “I’m doing all I can for her.”
Sam had tears in his eyes. “I don’t know why I did it,” he said miserably. “I guess I was crazy.”
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. “I know how you felt about Doc. He meant as much to you as Myra does to me.
I’d have done the same thing in your place.”
He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have hurt her for anything, but I got good and mad.”
There was nothing I could say to him that’d do any good, so I left him and went out into the street.
“Whisky,” I said, “we’re going after Arym. She’s the only one who can save Myra.”
“How can she help her?” Whisky asked hopelessly.
“Don’t you understand? She’s got half of Myra’s willpower and strength. Get them together and they can both make a real fight for it. Peppi will know where she is. I’ll see him first.”
“You’re taking a chance with Peppi, aren’t you?”
“I have to take a chance. If he doesn’t know where she is, I’m sunk.”
“He won’t talk without those photos,” Whisky said. “Why not get ’em and trade with him?” I glanced at my watch. It was seven fifty. Maddox would have gone home by now.
“It’s an idea,” I said, waving down a passing cab. “If we can get into Maddox’s office, I think I can bust his safe?”
As we drove off Whisky said, “I don’t think I want to be mixed up in this. I was merely giving advice.”
“You’ll come with me and like it,” I said shortly. “It all depends whether we can reach Maddox’s office without being seen. If we can, then the rest’s easy.”
Whisky clicked his teeth uneasily. “They wouldn’t put a dog in jail, would they?” he asked.
“No, they’d take you some place and shoot you.”
“I was afraid of that,” Whisky returned mournfully.
“Why worry? They can’t do that more than once to you,” I said, trying to cheer him up. Maddox’s office was on the top floor of the Recorder building. I stopped the cab at the corner of the street and we walked the short distance to the entrance. There was no doorman on duty at that time of night, but I had to get pest the man at the information desk just inside the hall to reach the elevator.
We paused at the entrance and I took a quick gander through the glass doors.
“We’re in luck,” I said to Whisky, “I don’t know the guy. Come on in.”
The man at the desk just glanced at us without interest.
“I want to talk to the night editor,” I said. “I’m a friend of his. Can I go up?”
“Sure,” he said. “Know your way?”
I nodded and we went over to the automatic elevator. “Well, that was easy,” I said, as the elevator shot up.
Whisky heaved a sigh. “You can get five years for this,” he returned. “Even Summers couldn’t do anything for you.”
“Quiet!” I said and stepped out onto the eighth floor. At the end f the passage was the door that led to Maddox’s offices. As we approached, Whisky cocked his head on one side.
“Wait a minute,” he said sharply.
“What’s up?”
“Someone’s in there,” he said, “I can hear ’em.”
I listened, but I couldn’t hear a thing. “Sure?”
“You bet I’m sure,” Whisky said, lowering his tail.
I crept to the door and listened. A man’s voice sounded faintly through the thick door.
“Hell!” I said, stepping back. “What do we do now?”
“We go some place and wait,” Whisky returned.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it softly. The door gave a few inches and I looked into the outer office. There was no one there, but voices came from Maddox’s office across the room. His door stood open.
“Wait here,” I whispered, and entered the outer office silently.
I crossed the room and edged up to the open door. One quick glance brought me up short. Peppi was standing by Maddox’s safe. With him was his muscleman, Lew, and two other men I hadn’t seen before.
Peppi was smoking a cigar, his hands in his pockets and his hat pushed to the back of his head. He watched Lew, who was trying to open the safe.
I backed away, crossed the office once more and started to join Whisky. Then I paused. Standing on one of the desks was a press camera complete with a flash-gun. I picked it up as I passed and then joined Whisky in the passage.
“What’s up?” Whisky asked, eyeing the camera nervously.
“Peppi and his gang are cracking the safe,” I said. “Now look, I’m going back in there and I’m going to get a picture of them. If we can get away with this we’ve got Peppi just where we want him.”
“You don’t think he’ll let you take a picture of him and then walk out, do you?” Whisky demanded. “He’ll probably be a very mad man.”
“That’s where you come in,” I said.
“They’ve tried to brain me before,” Whisky returned uneasily. “I’d prefer to remain neutral, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Pipe down,” I said. “As soon as I’ve taken the picture, I’ll give the plate to you and you beat it. I’ll bold them off until you get away. They won’t do anything to me so long as we have the picture.”
“That’s what you hope,” Whisky said. “They may have different ideas.”
I thought that was likely, but I had to take the chance.
“When you get outside, go to Miss Halliday’s apartment and wait for me,” I said. “I’ve told her about you and she’s expecting us. If I don’t come out within an hour, turn the picture over to Summers.”
Whisky looked worried. “Aren’t you being unnecessarily heroic?” he asked. “Can’t we work out something better than that?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got to put the screws to Peppi and this is the only way to do it. Get in the elevator and wait for me.”
“Well, I’d rather it was you than me,” Whisky said, enter in the elevator.
I adjusted the shutter of the camera and set the lens-stop. Then I went back into the room. Peppi was cursing Lew when I arrived at the door.
“If you can’t get that can open,” he snarled, “why don’t you say so? We’ve been here twenty minutes.”
“Gimme a break, will you?” Lew grunted, his ear against the safe. “I gotta have quiet to hear these tumblers.”
Peppi drew in a deep breath and stood over him. That was how I found them.
I shoved the camera round the door and braced it. Then I said sharply: “Hold it!”
I gave them time to look round and then I released the shutter. There was a blinding flash as the flashlight exploded and I didn’t wait to see what happened.
I whipped across the outer office, slammed the door and jerked the plate out of the camera. Whisky watched me with startled eyes.
“Here you are,” I said and shoved the plate holder into his mouth. Then I pressed the elevator button and the door snapped shut as Lew and Peppi tumbled into the passage.
Lew had a gun in his hand and he looked mean.
“Grab some air,” he said, pointing the gun at me.
I raised my hands, holding the camera above my head.
Peppi, snarling with rage, snatched the camera out of my hand. He took one look at it and flung it to the floor.
“Where’s the plate?” he snapped.
“On its way down,” I said. “Now, don’t get excited,” I went on hurriedly as Lew made as if to slug me. “That picture’ll give you a lot of grief if you don’t wise up.”
“Who’s got it?” Peppi snarled.
“Never mind who’s got it,” I returned. “All you have to worry about is who’s going to have it in an hour’s time.”
“That’s it, is it?” Peppi’s voice was soft and menacing. “You’re crazy to try that stuff on me.”
“Okay, so I’m crazy,” I said. “But I’ve got something on you, Peppi, that you won’t get out of in a hurry.”
“Let me slug this punk,” Law said.
Peppi jerked his head to the office. “Come in here,” he said, “I want to talk to you.”
I went into the office with Lew crowding me.
“What’s the idea?” Peppi said. “Come on—give.”
“If I’m not at a certain address in an hour’s time,” I explained, watching Lew out of the corner of my eye, “that picture’s going to the police chief. And then you can talk yourself out of it.”
“What address?” Peppi asked, fiddling with his cigar.
“Be your age,” I returned, wandering over to the desk and sitting on it. “Now listen, Peppi, here’s the deal. Give me Arym and I’ll give you the picture.”
While I was talking I glanced over Maddox’s desk. I remembered there was a button concealed somewhere which let off the burglar alarm. Maddox had had it fitted when some hood had threatened to scramble his brains in the old days of prohibition.
Peppi turned to Lew. “Get that safe open,” he said. “We’ll fix this guy when we’re through.”
That didn’t suit me. I spotted the button and rammed my thumb on it.
One of the other men caught me a full swing behind my ear, but he was a shade late. As I went over on the floor a bell began to ring somewhere in the building.
I struggled to my feet as Law went for me.
“Cut it out!” Peppi said, his face white with rage. “Take him and let’s get out of here.”
Lew dug his gun into my spine and herded me into Maddox’s private elevator. The others followed.
As we shot between floors, Peppi said: “You’ll be damned sorry you stuck your neck out.” And I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
The elevator landed us at the side entrance, away from the main doors. There was a big closed car waiting and as soon as we had bundled in it shot away towards Fifth Avenue. No one said anything all the way to Peppi’s house. Law sat by my side with his gun sticking into me and a hungry look in his eyes. I felt that I’d only to flicker an eye-lash and he’d plug me. So I sat still and sweated plenty.
When we got inside Peppi’s house Lew Shoved me into the sitting room.
The butler was in there fussing with a decanter. He looked at me with a tight smile on his crooked face.
Peppi said: “Get Miss Brandt.”
The butler went out.
Peppi and Law left me standing in the middle of the room and went over to the window. They whispered together and then Law gave a low laugh.
“Don’t waste too much time,” I said, feeling uneasy. “You’ve only got another thirty-five minutes to turn Arym over to me.”
“That’ll be long enough,” Peppi said.
“I’m not bluffing,” I said. “I’ve got you where I want you. Give me the girl or that picture goes to Summers. Where is she?”
Peppi shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “And I don’t care. I warned you not to double-cross me. Now you’re going to get your lesson.”
The door opened and Lydia Brandt came in. She looked at me much the same way a tiger looks at its dinner.
“I want this guy to talk,” Peppi said. “I thought rnaybe you’d like to soften him.”
Lydia smiled.. “Yes,” she said. “That would amuse me.”
“What are you going to do with him?” Peppi asked.
“I want to try that experiment again. I made a mess of it last time,” she answered.
Peppi shrugged. “She thinks she can cut a guy. I tell her she can’t do it.”
Lew sneered. “Let her try,” he said. “It don’t matter if she makes a mess of this punk, does it?”
I began to sweat.
Lew went to the door and called in the other two birds who had been in Maddox’s office.
“Tie this lug up,” he said. “If he starts anything, beat his brains out.”
Before I could make up my mind what to do they grabbed me. I waited until they began to twist my arms behind me, then I let them have it.
I wrenched one of my arms free and slugged the bigger of the two guys in the eye, then as the other swung at me I stepped close and hit him low.
That was as far as I got. Lew came up and slammed me over the head with his gun-butt. By the time I’d cleared my head I was sitting in a chair trussed up like a Houdini act.
Peppi was looking at the clock. “We ain’t got a lot of time,” he said.
“It’s not going to take me long,” Lydia said. She held a thin, sharp knife in her hand. She looked across at me. “You won’t have many dates after this,” she said viciously.
“Let’s be reasonable,” I said hurriedly. “You wouldn’t really want to do that to me.”
She held up the knife, then she came over. “You won’t feet it for a while,” she said, standing over ime. “I’ve done it before.” Her face was white and stony and I could see she was - getting a big kick out of seeing me sweat.
Peppi said to me. “Are you talking?”
“I’m talking,” I said, shrinking away from the knife.
“Where’s the plate?”
I gave him Harriet’s address.
“Let’s go,” he said to Lew. “We’ve still got ten minutes.”
They made for the door.
“Hey!” I shouted, “don’t leave me with this dame. She might start something.”
Peppi paused and smiled at me, “She will,” he said, “maybe you won’t be in such a hurry to double-cross me next time.” He looked over at Lydia, “When you’re through, tell Toni to park him in the river.”
She nodded.
“We’ll be back pretty soon,” Peppi said, and they all went out leaving me with Lydia.
I admit, right at that moment I was losing a lot of weight. I strained on the cords that held me but I couldn’t budge them.
There was a cold efficiency about Lydia that told me she was going through with this.
She was batty, of course. As crazy as a bug, but that didn’t help me.
“Well,” she said, “we’re ready to go. All you have to do is to sit still. I’m quick and it won’t hurt for a few hours, anyway,” she chuckled. “Then it’ll hurt plenty.”
I believed her.
She came over and twined her long fingers in my hair. I rammed my chin on my chest so she couldn’t get at my face.
“Don’t make it difficult,” she said, pulling at my hair. It scared me to feel how strong she was.
I braced myself and kept my chin down. She kept pulling and it felt like the top of my head was coming off.
“Damn you!” she said suddenly and touched my ear with the knife.
I jerked away with a yell and the next second I was staring up at the ceiling with the knife hovering a few inches from my eyes.
Then the door burst open and Arym marched in.
Lydia released my hair and stood away. Arym stared first at me and then at Lydia, and I could have hugged her if I’d been free.
Lydia was the first to recover, “What do you want?” she said in a flat, sullen voice, “go away!”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Arym demanded, her eyes flashing. “What’s happening, Ross?”
“She’s going to mask my face,” I said feverishly, “it’s an old family custom.”
“Is she?” Arym laid her gloves and bag down on the table. She took off her hat with deliberation. “Not so long as I’m standing on my two feet,” she said.
“Get Out “Lydia said furiously, “you’ve no business being in here. Go upstairs and wait for Peppi. He wants me to do this.”
“He’s mine,” Arym said, moving towards Lydia. “No one touches him but me.”
Lydia went for her with the knife.
I yelled a warning, but it wasn’t necessary. Arym was quite capable of taking care of herself. She simply vanished in a puff of white smoke.
Lydia stopped in her rush with a startled scream. She looked around the room, her knife held ready and her eyes wild.
Just behind her a large vase containing flowers suddenly floated off the table. It shot high into the air and descended on Lydia’s head. She flattened out on the floor and the vase flew in a hundred pieces.
“And that’s that,” said Arym’s voice.
Invisible hands gathered the flowers into a bunch and laid them on Lydia’s chest.
“She only lacks a wooden overcoat,” Arym said, suddenly reappearing. “But I haven’t time for that now.”
I felt unnerved. “I just can’t get used to your tricks,” I said, staring at Lydia with morbid fascination.
“Didn’t you like that little exhibition?” Arym asked, not without pride.
“I thought it was swell,” I said, “but I can’t stand a lot of it. Look, sweetheart, will you untie me?”
“Oh, no,” Arym said firmly, “I want to talk to you first.”
“But we haven’t time,” I said desperately. “Peppi’ll come back any minute.”
She shrugged, “I couldn’t care less about that,” she returned, putting her arm round my neck. “I can do to Peppi what I did to her and think nothing of it.”
“Arym, you must let me loose,” I said feverishly, “I want you to do something for me.”
“I know,” she said, “but you’re going to hear what I want first.” She sat on my knee and began fondling my ear. That’s a thing I can’t stand, but I wasn’t in the position to tell her so.
“You’re going to marry me.”
I stared at her, “Of all the crazy things!” I said angrily. “This is no time for fooling.”
“But, I’m not fooling,” she said, “you’re marrying me or it’ll be the last thing you refuse me.”
“I’m marrying Myra,” I said, trying to push her away, “Be reasonable for the love of mike. Myra’s desperately ill. She needs you. You can’t refuse to help her.”
“I know all about that,” she said carelessly, “I’ve just come from seeing her. She knew what was happening here and she sent me to get you out of the mess. I agreed on one condition—that she would give you up. Well, she’s given you up. If you want me to save her, you must promise to marry me.”
“I’m not going to,” I said, hardly believing my ears. “Of all the dirty tricks! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“Don’t get upstage,” Aryrn said, putting her face against mine. “I’ll let Peppi handle you, if you don’t play along with me. And I’ll let Myra fend for herself, too.”
I drew a deep breath, “You can’t do this,” I said, “think what it means. You don’t really think you could hold me to such a marriage. Why I’d leave you in a week. What do you think I am—a mouse?”
A look of doubt came into Arym’s eyes, “But, don’t you like me a little?” she pleaded, hugging me to her.
“I like you all right,” I said, “you’ve got everything Myra has except her nice nature. That’s something you’ll never have.”
“I could be nice to you,” she wheedled, “and you would be good for me.” I had a sudden idea.
“I’ll agree on one condition,” I said.
She looked suspicious, “What condition?”
“You return to Myra, give up your body and I’ll marry you both.”
“No,” she said, getting off my knee. “I want to have a body of my own.”
“But, you’ll never really be happy,” I urged, feeling that I was persuading her. “It’s the only way you’ll ever get me. If you can’t share me with Myra then I’m through with you.”
She began to pace up and down. “You don’t understand what this means to me. As I am now, I can do what I like, go where I like and love whom I like.”
“And where’s it getting you?” I asked. “Can’t you see it’s the only possible way out? Ask yourself, have you been happy? You’re only half yourself. Myra has all the good qualities. If you go back to her you’ll be complete and you’ll have me.”
She stopped pacing and stared at me. “You devil,” she said, “I hadn’t thought of it like that. You’re right. I have missed Myra. I’ve missed tempting her to do the wrong things. I’ve missed fighting with her. I guess I’m being a sucker, but I’ll do it, if she’ll have me back.”
“I warn you,” I said, “you’re going to behave. No more stealing. I’ll be around to keep you in order.”
“I’ll do it—for no other man in the world but you,” she said, and picking up the knife she cut me free.
I stood up with a grimace. “We must get over to Myra,” I said, stamping life into my legs.
“I’ve left her too long as it is.”
“Don’t fuss,” she said. “She’ll be all right.”
I suddenly remembered Whisky. “My goodness!” I said hobbling to the telephone. “Maybe Peppi’s cutting poor old Whisky’s throat right now.”
“You worry too much,” Arym said calmly. “He’ll have his throat cut sooner or later, he’s that kind of a dog.”
I got through to police headquarters.
When Summers came on the line I shot him the story. “Get a squad over there,” I said feverishly, giving him Harriet’s address. “And make it snappy. You’ll have Kruger and his mob on ice if you get that picture.”
“We’ll get it,” Summers said excitedly, and hung up.
“I hope they do,” I said. “Well, let’s get over to the hospital.” I put my arm around her and kissed her. “You’re a nice kid,” I said. “And you won’t have any regrets. Now, come on. Go into your vanishing act. The cops mustn’t see you.”
“Consider it done,” she said, and a wisp of smoke indicated where she had been standing.
When we reached the hospital we found Clancy and a couple of cops still waiting outside Myra’s door. Bogle had been taken away.
I went up to Clancy. “How is she?” I asked anxiously.
Clancy looked mournful. “She’s bad,” he said. “The doc’s in there now.”
“Can I go in?”
“Not yet,” Clancy said, shaking his head. “Maybe when the doc’s through.”
I turned away. I was tempted to burst into her room, but I knew it wouldn’t do, so I wandered over to a chair and sat down.
“Who’s the guy with a face like a tomato?” Arym whispered in my ear.
I told her.
“He looks like a heel,” Arym said. “I think I’ll throw a scare into him.”
“Lay off,” I said hurriedly. “We don’t want any trouble here.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble to me,” she said wistfully. “It’d be fun.”
“Now for the love of mike behave yourself. Haven’t I enough on my mind without you adding to it?”
Clancy had drawn near and was staring at me with startled Interest. “Do you have to do that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Why not?” I returned. “Can’t I talk to myself without you horning in?”
“I guess so,” he returned, looking at me old fashioned. “But, I don’t like it much. It shows softening of the brain.”
“That’s better than having no brain at all, you cretin,” Arym’s voice snapped.
Clancy stiffened. “What’s that?” he said, glaring at me. “I didn’t say anything,” I returned hurriedly.
“Don’t tell lies,” Clancy said. “One more crack like that and I’ll toss you in the can. And cut out that falsetto voice. I don’t like it.”
Just then a young and pretty nurse came down the corridor.
Clancy, who never passed up a nice-looking girl, swallowed his wrath. He adjusted his necktie and smirked at her. “Evening,” he said, swelling out his chest.
She paused and smiled brightly. “Good evening,” she said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Before Clancy could reply, Arym’s voice said from behind him, “You can wipe that smile off your insipid face.”
Clancy couldn’t believe his cars. He looked around wildly, his mouth gaping.
The nurse tossed her head. “If it comes to that,” she said, “your face isn’t so much, and from the sound of your voice you should be shuffled and dealt again.”
As she passed Clancy there came the sound of a sharp slap. The nurse gave a convulsive start and stifled a scream. For a moment she stood rigid and then turned, her face scarlet.
“That wasn’t a nice thing to do,” she said. “Do you call yourself a gentleman?”
Clancy blinked at her. “I ain’t done nothing,” he said uneasily.
“It may seem nothing to you,” the nurse returned. “But, I’ll have you know that back in my home-town gentlemen don’t do such things.”
Clancy began to get mad. “You’re not the only one who has a home-town,” he snapped.
“I shouldn’t like to visit yours, if you’re a specimen of what comes out of it,” the nurse returned, putting her hands carelessly behind her and edging away.
This remark hurt Clancy’s pride. “I’ll have you know,” he said, “my home-town’s the oldest in the country.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” the nurse said feelingly. “You have some of its oldest habits,” and tossing her bead, she went off down the corridor.
“What kind of hospital is this?” Clancy demanded, glaring after her. “Even the nurses are nuts!”
While he was speaking, Myra’s door opened and the doctor came out.
I jumped to my feet. “Can I see her?” I asked anxiously.
He looked at me gravely. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I did all I could for her.”
My heart went cold. “She’s not…?” I began, but the look in his eyes told me.
“She wouldn’t fight,” he said. “I can’t make it out. She just didn’t seem to have the will. I pushed past him and went into the room.
A nurse had pulled the sheet over Myra’s face. She glanced at me sympathetically and left the room.
I stood looking at Myra’s small form under the sheet and I felt pretty bad.
“So she quit,” Arym said, suddenly appearing at my side. “Can you beat that?” she jerked the sheet off Myra’s face.
Myra looked very peaceful. Her hair framed her small white face and there was a faint smile on her lips.
“Of all the smug, two-faced, prissy-mouthed fugitives from a convent,” Aryrn said in disgust. “She’s it.”
“Don’t,” I said, sitting wearily on the bed. “She wanted to live, but we were too late to help her.”
“Phooey!” Arym snapped. “She’s putting on an act. Cut it Out, Myra,” she went on. “Or I’ll grab that body and leave you without one.”
“Try it and I’ll haunt you,” Myra’s voice said close to me.
I looked round with a startled gasp. Standing at the foot of the bed I could make out a filmy shadow.
“Don’t materialize any further,” Arym exclaimed. “You haven’t got any clothes on.”
“As if I didn’t know,” Myra sounded annoyed. “Where have you two been? I was just going to look for you.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Aren’t you dead after all?”
“Of course, she isn’t,” Arym said. “I told you not to worry.”
“Has the darling been worrying?” Myra asked eagerly.
“You know how men are,” Arym replied airily. “But never mind him. Get back into your body. We have things to talk about.”
“I’ll be right with you,” Myra said, and the shadowy figure climbed on to the bed and melted out of sight.
A second later what had been Myra’s remains sat up abruptly in bed.
I shied away from her. This, I felt, was a little too much.
“He wants me to come back to you,” Arym said sulkily. “That’s the only way he’ll marry me.”
“Certainly not,” Myra said firmly. “I’ve bad enough of your influence to last me a lifetime. I’d rather be dead.”
I pulled myself together. “Myra,” I said, taking her hand, “you must be sensible. The new moon rises in an hour. If Doc was right, that’s when you’ll lose your supernatural powers and then it’ll be too late to do anything. You have to take her back. Think of me. Think of having her around all the rest of our days. Think of the mischief she could do us if we thwarted her.”
“That’s all very well,” Myra returned. “But what about Doc? She did kill him. I draw the line at sharing a body with a murderess.”
She had something there.
Arym pouted “If I fix Doc, will you do it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t kill the old fool. I wanted to have a hold on you so that Ross would work for Andasca.”
“Now look here, Arym, it’s no use lying. You did kill him. I saw him die,” I said coldly.
“You thought you saw him die,” Arym said, smiling. “Haven’t you heard of mass hypnotism?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, “What are you getting at?” I said. “Mass hypnotism? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re not being very bright, are you darling?” she said patiently. “All I did was to put Doc in a coma and hypnotize you and Sam into believing he was hurt. The letter and the dress were planted to give the right atmosphere.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said, “the cops saw him too.”
“So what?” she returned “I was there all the time, although you couldn’t see me. It was as easy to hypnotize the cops as you.”
“Do you really mean Doc’s alive?” I still couldn’t believe it.
“Of course, but he doesn’t know it,” she said airily. “Right now he’s in the City morgue and he thinks he’s as dead as George Washington but we can soon fix that.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I exclaimed “Look at the time, we’ve only a half an hour before midnight.”
Arym looked over at Myra, “Are you going to take me back?” she asked.
“I suppose I’ll have to” Myra said, a little doubtfully “Are you going to behave?”
“She’ll behave,” I said, “I know how to handle her.”
“All right,” Myra said, “I’ve missed her too. Come on back,” her eyes lit up, “it’ll be just like old times.”
Aryrn hesitated, then she came over to me. “You won’t ever see me again,” she said sadly, “not as I really am.” She put her arms round me. “This is the last time I’ll hold you like this.”
I pulled her to me and kissed her. “Be good,” I said, “I’m trusting you.”
“I’m ready when you two are,” Myra said, a little waspishly.
Aryrn gave me a quick hug and pushed me away. “Look out of the window,” she said, “I have to undress.”
I hadn’t turned my back for ten seconds when the door opened and Clancy walked in.
“So she’s dead, eh?” he said, “well, Bud, I’m sorry.”
I took a quick look at the bed and then stiffened. Myra and Arym were lying side by side, their blonde heads sharing the same pillow. Even though I knew what was happening, the sight unnerved me.
Clancy saw them at the same time. He blinked and passed his hand over his eyes. Then he had another look and went pale.
“She looks nice, doesn’t she?” I said, deciding to bluff.
Clancy made gurgling noises. Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. He moved closer to the bed and stared. “Yeah,” he said, in a cracked voice, “but it ain’t the kind of thing I want to see every day.”
“Nor do I,” I said feelingly, “but she does look happy.”
“That’s more than I do,” Clancy said, supporting himself against the bed rail, “my eyesight’s giving me a little trouble. You wouldn’t say there are two dames in that bed, would you?”
“No,” I said firmly, “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
“I didn’t think you would,” he returned, with a groan, “Maybe I’ve been working too hard.”
“You’d better go away some place quiet and lie down,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Clancy said, “but I can’t imagine any place quiet enough,” and he went out of the room with dragging steps.
I turned back to the bed in time to see Arym merge into Myra.
“I’ll sure be glad when this business is over,” I said, mopping my face with my handkerchief.
Myra sat up in bed. “Wait for me,” she said, “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Don’t let them see you,” I said, and went out into the corridor.
Clancy was sitting in a heap with his head in his hands. The two cops were watching him uneasily.
“Don’t worry him,” I said to them, “he has a lot on his mind right now.”
“We ain’t worrying him,” one of the cops returned uneasily, “he’s worrying us.”
I moved down the corridor and stood waiting. Myra didn’t keep me long. Her voice sounded in my ear after a few minutes, “Let’s go,” she said.
We reached the city morgue a quarter before midnight. A thin, querulous looking bird with a heavy moustache and a network of veins over his sharp, hooked nose sat behind the counter. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“You have a body here I want to look at,” I said, taking out a Recorder press card and handing it to him, “a guy named Ansell. Doc Ansell.”
He flipped the card back to me, “Come to-morrow,” he said, and picked up his newspaper.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “I have to see this guy right now.” The morgue attendant glared at me over his glasses, “No one’s going in there to-night. Beat it,” he said.
I turned to Myra, “One of those nice helpful guys,” I said, “maybe you’d better do something about it. Look at the time.”
It was ten to twelve.
Myra said, “I’m on my way,” and she vanished.
On the floor where she had been standing were her clothes in a neat little pile. Her hat rested on top and her shoes were at the bottom of the pile.
I lit a cigarette and watched the effect on the morgue attendant with interest.
He got up deliberately and peered at the pile of clothes with glassy eyes.
“Astonishing how little these girls wear,” I said chattily, “just a handful of silk here and a wisp of silk there and yet they look marvellous.”
“Where is she?” he whispered, clawing at his throat.
“In the morgue by now,” I said, “but, she’ll be back.”
He gave a long sigh and fell down behind the counter. I didn’t blame him. It was a shock for a guy his age.
I left him there and ran round the counter. As I reached the head of the stairs that led to the morgue I saw Doc Ansell come stumbling up.
I ran down and grabbed him, “Doc!” I cried, “am I glad to see you!”
“Take care of him while I dress,” Myra’s voice said, “he’s still a little dazed.”
“Don’t hold that against me,” Doc said, gripping my hand, “I’ve had a very trying experience.”
The morgue attendant still lay behind the counter, but as we passed he sat up and peered at us.
“You won’t want this stiff any more,” I said to him. “I’m going to take it away and buy it a meal.”
Myra flashed into her clothes.
“Come on, Doc,” she said, slipping her arm through his, “let’s get out of here.”
As we went out, the morgue attendant gave a low wail and collapsed once more on the floor.