Vic Whitman

“ Dave Cates determined to keep an eye on him. “The kid looked hungry,” was his thought, “and hunger has made many a crook. Maybe if I can nab Margolo in time, the kid won’t have any record against him.”
He cast a glance at the Salon Quintesse, turned and walked to the car line.
Those who expected to see Margolo make immediate war upon Red McGuirk were disappointed. Never had the gangster been so quiet. With his inactivity, the percentage of crime in the city dropped until a pedestrian could stroll the streets with comparative safety. ”

“ For an hour his voice flowed on, as he told her of the police department, of the woman who had called out the homicide squad when she mistook the scratchings of a stray cat in her cellar for the supernatural activities of her long-deceased husband, of the trials and tribulations of a radio announcer, of the joys and fears and hopes of a little officer who never made an arrest. ”

“ Definite proof has been established that Margolo and three of his men just shot and killed Red McGuirk, chief of the opposing gang.
“Now they are shooting down there, and there’s plenty of noise—plenty! Those gun flashes in the dark are like lightning flashes. They’re pretty, but they’re bad. Oh, there comes a gunman running out of the house. ”

“ Busy as they were at headquarters with the operation of the dragnet, all had time for a glance at the affair of the radio cop and Anabelle Talbot.
“If that don’t beat the devil!” observed Captain Henessey. “A talking fool and a girl who can’t say a word. Still, that may have its advantages. If the girl could talk, neither one of ’em would be able to get a word in edgeways.”
Of course Dave Cates came in for a share of kidding. No class of men enjoys their jokes more than that which preserves the peace. ”

“ Distinctly he heard the gangster say:
“Bring my car out and make it snappy.”
The nimble brain of Officer Cates began to click. Something was up or Margolo wouldn’t call for his car in such a hurry. Cates moved to the magazine stand as Margolo emerged from the booth and hurried out of the store.
Suddenly a plan occurred to Cates. It was daring in conception, but the more he thought of it the more plausible it seemed. Anyway, he’d take a chance. Quickly he went into the street, and strode along in the direction from which Margolo’s car must come. ”

“ Not so the police.
“It’s only the calm before the storm,” observed Captain Henessey. “When Margolo gets under way he’ll raise more hell than ever. I’ve seen these birds before and I know.”
Nightly, Dave Cates stood before the microphone, talking to the world. No more attempts were made upon his life, but he wasn’t fooled by that. Eventually the gunmen would seek him out again. He’d have to get them before they got him.
Each night after the broadcast he went in search of Big Ed Margolo. Everywhere the gangster went, he was followed by a little man with pulled-down cap and turned-up coat collar. ”

“ Not even a taxi driver should know that he was in any way connected with the police.
With all the enthusiasm of a terrier puppy he burst in upon Captain Henessey.
“Margolo has just rented a house out on River Street,” Cates said rapidly. “Don’t know what he’s going to do, but it’s a cinch he didn’t rent the place to live in. Now listen, captain. There’s an old vacant garage out back of the place. Can’t I have a microphone put up in there?”
Captain Henessey studied the eager face. “What do you want to do—commit suicide?” he asked finally.
“Nobody’ll get wise,” the radio cop declared. ”

“ There was a sharp corner there by the fruit store. Necessarily the car must come around that corner. Cates cautiously drew back into a doorway and waited.
Presently headlights gleamed. The big car slowed for the corner. Cates caught a glimpse of the driver. Yes, the chauffeur was the youth to whom Cates had lent ten dollars.
The car was the green limousine that had nearly taken Cates on his death ride. This evidence made it pretty definite to Cates that Margolo was the man who had ordered his death. ”

“ Cates was looking forward with considerable eagerness to Friday night. Any man likes to have the girl see him at his best work, and certainly the radio cop excelled as an announcer. Carefully he planned his broadcast so that there would not be the least hesitation on his part. Everything must go like clockwork.
There is a saying about the best-laid plans. Friday afternoon Cates complained bitterly to Miss Anabelle: “Can you beat those commissioners? Never for a moment did I think they’d get around so quickly to switching the microphone to the new location. ”

“ Smiling radiantly, dipping, whirling, gliding, the dancer was none other than the girl who had kissed him.
“Well, I’ll be a seagoing brook trout!” murmured Cates.
His first thought was that she was connected with Big Ed Margolo’s gang. Paid entertainers and gangsters frequently run together. Then he dismissed the thought as unworthy. Had she been connected in any way with Margolo she would not have risked her life to save some one she didn’t know.
On the other hand, how had she known about the “ride”? And why hadn’t Fiske shot? Doubts beset the radio cop ”

“ There’s a back entrance to the garage where I can go in and out, and I can have the lights dimmed so nobody’ll notice. It’s the chance of a lifetime to keep an eye on this guy, and maybe something good will break. ”

“ Slowly, distinctly, the radio cop continued: “Bed isn’t the worst place in the world after a man has worked hard all day. A sale of springs and mattresses is now taking place at 47 River Street. Wonderful bargains if bought now.”
CHAPTER VI: VAST FORCE
All over the great city, desk sergeants and captains took their feet from their desks as they interpreted that message. Big Ed Margolo at 47 River Street with his assistants! Definite proof that they had shot and killed someone, presumably McGuirk! Act at once! Orders went ringing through big rooms, and reserve men rushed to obey. ”

“ Now the officers are chasing him, shooting as they go. He turns and fires back at them. There he goes down! One of the bullets got him—in the leg, I think. The officers had every right to shoot to kill, but they didn’t. ”