of these days I may be as rich and as powerful as English is. If he could do it, why can’t I?’
Julie got to her feet and clung to him.
‘Darling Harry, I love you so, and I’ll try to make you happy. Be patient. I’m sure it’ll come right in the end. Now, darling, I must go. I’ll come again as soon as I can. Get my coat, will you? I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.’
A few minutes later, Julie moved quietly to the mouth of the alley and looked quickly to the right and left. The street was deserted. Moving forward briskly, she went in search of a taxi.
In a dark doorway, a youngish man in a brown suit and a brown slouch hat, stood with his back against the wall, watching her, his jaws moving slowly as he chewed. He remained in the shadows until she was out of sight, then he came out of the doorway, and walked quickly toward the river, his lips pursed in a soundless whistle.
II
E d Leon took possession of the Alert Agency two days after English had summoned him from Chicago. Leon was tall and rangy, all legs and arms, and he had a deceptive appearance that led most people to assume that he was a harmless dimwit. He had a pleasant suntanned face, and at first glance you might have mistaken him for a not too prosperous farmer up for the day to see the sights of the city. He wore his clothes as if he had slept in them, not for one night, but for many nights, and he had a habit of wearing an old battered slouch hat far at the back of his head. His hair, naturally unruly, had everything its own way as he made no attempt to control it except to have it cut on rare occasions and to pass a comb through it when he could find a comb, which wasn’t often.
No one would have believed that he was one of the smartest private investigators in the country. Beginning life as a crime reporter, he had showed so much talent for ferreting out news concerning the criminal activities of politicians and their ilk that the district attorney decided that he would be less of a nuisance working in his office than for a newspaper. He persuaded Leon to become a special investigator attached to his office, and for a time Leon did excellent work to the satisfaction of the D.A., but at little profit to himself.
Leon met English soon after English had sold his gyroscope compass, and they had become friends. Leon had suggested that English might consider financing him so he could set up his own agency. English knew Leon’s reputation, and thought the investment might turn out to be a sound one. He backed Leon, and after a couple of years, Leon was able to buy English out with a handsome profit to them both. His agency was now one of the most efficient in
Chicago, and before three years had passed, Leon was employing four investigators, three legmen and a bevy of smart young women.
As he wandered around the small, shabby office that had once belonged to Roy English, Leon wasn’t overly pleased that he had allowed himself to be talked into taking this assignment by English. Of course the money was good, but he didn’t relish spending much time in these two rooms after the luxury of his air conditioned office in Chicago.
He pulled at his long nose thoughtfully as he wandered around the room, his face thoughtful, his eyes missing nothing. He spent the next two hours going through the files, examining drawers and cupboards with the methodical care he had developed after years of experience that had taught him nothing was unimportant, that there was a reason for everything, and that if you kept looking, sooner or later you would find something to interest you.
It was not until he examined the fireplace that he made any worthwhile discovery. He found a small object lodged in the chimney that made him raise his heavy eyebrows and take from his pocket a pencil-thin flashlight. He played the beam on the object, and saw it was a small, but highly sensitive microphone. The wires attached to it went through a crack in the chimney and
Julie got to her feet and clung to him.
‘Darling Harry, I love you so, and I’ll try to make you happy. Be patient. I’m sure it’ll come right in the end. Now, darling, I must go. I’ll come again as soon as I can. Get my coat, will you? I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.’
A few minutes later, Julie moved quietly to the mouth of the alley and looked quickly to the right and left. The street was deserted. Moving forward briskly, she went in search of a taxi.
In a dark doorway, a youngish man in a brown suit and a brown slouch hat, stood with his back against the wall, watching her, his jaws moving slowly as he chewed. He remained in the shadows until she was out of sight, then he came out of the doorway, and walked quickly toward the river, his lips pursed in a soundless whistle.
II
E d Leon took possession of the Alert Agency two days after English had summoned him from Chicago. Leon was tall and rangy, all legs and arms, and he had a deceptive appearance that led most people to assume that he was a harmless dimwit. He had a pleasant suntanned face, and at first glance you might have mistaken him for a not too prosperous farmer up for the day to see the sights of the city. He wore his clothes as if he had slept in them, not for one night, but for many nights, and he had a habit of wearing an old battered slouch hat far at the back of his head. His hair, naturally unruly, had everything its own way as he made no attempt to control it except to have it cut on rare occasions and to pass a comb through it when he could find a comb, which wasn’t often.
No one would have believed that he was one of the smartest private investigators in the country. Beginning life as a crime reporter, he had showed so much talent for ferreting out news concerning the criminal activities of politicians and their ilk that the district attorney decided that he would be less of a nuisance working in his office than for a newspaper. He persuaded Leon to become a special investigator attached to his office, and for a time Leon did excellent work to the satisfaction of the D.A., but at little profit to himself.
Leon met English soon after English had sold his gyroscope compass, and they had become friends. Leon had suggested that English might consider financing him so he could set up his own agency. English knew Leon’s reputation, and thought the investment might turn out to be a sound one. He backed Leon, and after a couple of years, Leon was able to buy English out with a handsome profit to them both. His agency was now one of the most efficient in
Chicago, and before three years had passed, Leon was employing four investigators, three legmen and a bevy of smart young women.
As he wandered around the small, shabby office that had once belonged to Roy English, Leon wasn’t overly pleased that he had allowed himself to be talked into taking this assignment by English. Of course the money was good, but he didn’t relish spending much time in these two rooms after the luxury of his air conditioned office in Chicago.
He pulled at his long nose thoughtfully as he wandered around the room, his face thoughtful, his eyes missing nothing. He spent the next two hours going through the files, examining drawers and cupboards with the methodical care he had developed after years of experience that had taught him nothing was unimportant, that there was a reason for everything, and that if you kept looking, sooner or later you would find something to interest you.
It was not until he examined the fireplace that he made any worthwhile discovery. He found a small object lodged in the chimney that made him raise his heavy eyebrows and take from his pocket a pencil-thin flashlight. He played the beam on the object, and saw it was a small, but highly sensitive microphone. The wires attached to it went through a crack in the chimney and
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