I thought I'd come to see you. I used to be in the racket myself and-"
"What did Noonan put the skids under you for?"
"Skids? What skids? I quit. I come into a piece of change when the wife got killed in an automobile accident-insurance-and I quit."
"I heard he kicked you out the time his brother shot himself."
"Well, then you heard wrong. It was just after that, but you can ask him if I didn't quit."
"It's not that much to me. Go on telling me why you came to see me."
"I'm busted, flat. I know you're a Continental op, and I got a pretty good hunch what you're up to here. I'm close to a lot that's going on on both sides of things in this burg. There's things I could do for you, being an ex-dick, knowing the ropes both ways."
"You want to stool-pigeon for me?"
He looked me straight in the eye and said evenly:
"There's no sense in a man picking out the worst name he can find for everything."
"I'll give you something to do, MacSwain." I took out Myrtle Jennison's document and passed it to him. "Tell me about that."
He read it through carefully, his lips framing the words, the match wavering up and down in his mouth. He got up, put the paper on the bed beside me, and scowled down at it.
"There's something I'll have to find out about first," he said, very solemnly. "I'll be back in a little while and give you the whole story."
I laughed and told him:
"Don't be silly. You know I'm not going to let you walk out on me."
"I don't know that." He shook his head, still solemn. "Neither do you. All you know is whether you're going to try to stop me."
"The answer's yeah," I said while I considered that he was fairly hard and strong, six or seven years younger than I, and twenty or thirty pounds lighter.
He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me with solemn eyes. I sat on the side of the bed and looked at him with whatever kind of eyes I had at the time. We did this for nearly three minutes.
I used part of the time measuring the distance between us, figuring out how, by throwing my body back on the bed and turning on my hip, I could get my heels in his face if he jumped me. He was too close for me to pull the gun. I had just finished this mental map-making when he spoke:
"That lousy ring wasn't worth no grand. I did swell to get two centuries for it."
"Sit down and tell me about it."
He shook his head again and said:
"First I want to know what you're meaning to do about it."
"Cop Whisper."
"I don't mean that. I mean with me."
"You'll have to go over to the Hall with me."
"I won't."
"Why not? You're only a witness."
"I'm only a witness that Noonan can hang a bribe-taking, or an accomplice after the act rap on, or both. And he'd be tickled simple to have the chance."
This jaw-wagging didn't seem to be leading anywhere. I said:
"That's too bad. But you're going to see him."
"Try and take me."
I sat up straighter and slid my right hand back to my hip.
He grabbed for me. I threw my body back on the bed, did the hipspin, swung my feet at him. It was a good trick, only it didn't work. In his hurry to get at me he bumped the bed aside just enough to spill me off on the floor.
I landed all sprawled out on my back. I kept dragging at my gun while I tried to roll under the bed.
Missing me, his lunge carried him over the low footboard, over the side of the bed. He came down beside me, on the back of his neck, his body somersaulting over.
I put the muzzle of my gun in his left eye and said:
"You're making a fine pair of clowns of us. Be still while I get up or I'll make an opening in your head for brains to leak in."
I got up, found and pocketed my document, and let him get up.
"Knock the dents out of your hat and put your necktie in front, so you won't disgrace me going through the streets," I ordered after I had run a hand over his clothes and found nothing that felt like a weapon. "You can suit yourself about remembering that this gat is going to be in my overcoat pocket, with a hand on it."
He
"What did Noonan put the skids under you for?"
"Skids? What skids? I quit. I come into a piece of change when the wife got killed in an automobile accident-insurance-and I quit."
"I heard he kicked you out the time his brother shot himself."
"Well, then you heard wrong. It was just after that, but you can ask him if I didn't quit."
"It's not that much to me. Go on telling me why you came to see me."
"I'm busted, flat. I know you're a Continental op, and I got a pretty good hunch what you're up to here. I'm close to a lot that's going on on both sides of things in this burg. There's things I could do for you, being an ex-dick, knowing the ropes both ways."
"You want to stool-pigeon for me?"
He looked me straight in the eye and said evenly:
"There's no sense in a man picking out the worst name he can find for everything."
"I'll give you something to do, MacSwain." I took out Myrtle Jennison's document and passed it to him. "Tell me about that."
He read it through carefully, his lips framing the words, the match wavering up and down in his mouth. He got up, put the paper on the bed beside me, and scowled down at it.
"There's something I'll have to find out about first," he said, very solemnly. "I'll be back in a little while and give you the whole story."
I laughed and told him:
"Don't be silly. You know I'm not going to let you walk out on me."
"I don't know that." He shook his head, still solemn. "Neither do you. All you know is whether you're going to try to stop me."
"The answer's yeah," I said while I considered that he was fairly hard and strong, six or seven years younger than I, and twenty or thirty pounds lighter.
He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me with solemn eyes. I sat on the side of the bed and looked at him with whatever kind of eyes I had at the time. We did this for nearly three minutes.
I used part of the time measuring the distance between us, figuring out how, by throwing my body back on the bed and turning on my hip, I could get my heels in his face if he jumped me. He was too close for me to pull the gun. I had just finished this mental map-making when he spoke:
"That lousy ring wasn't worth no grand. I did swell to get two centuries for it."
"Sit down and tell me about it."
He shook his head again and said:
"First I want to know what you're meaning to do about it."
"Cop Whisper."
"I don't mean that. I mean with me."
"You'll have to go over to the Hall with me."
"I won't."
"Why not? You're only a witness."
"I'm only a witness that Noonan can hang a bribe-taking, or an accomplice after the act rap on, or both. And he'd be tickled simple to have the chance."
This jaw-wagging didn't seem to be leading anywhere. I said:
"That's too bad. But you're going to see him."
"Try and take me."
I sat up straighter and slid my right hand back to my hip.
He grabbed for me. I threw my body back on the bed, did the hipspin, swung my feet at him. It was a good trick, only it didn't work. In his hurry to get at me he bumped the bed aside just enough to spill me off on the floor.
I landed all sprawled out on my back. I kept dragging at my gun while I tried to roll under the bed.
Missing me, his lunge carried him over the low footboard, over the side of the bed. He came down beside me, on the back of his neck, his body somersaulting over.
I put the muzzle of my gun in his left eye and said:
"You're making a fine pair of clowns of us. Be still while I get up or I'll make an opening in your head for brains to leak in."
I got up, found and pocketed my document, and let him get up.
"Knock the dents out of your hat and put your necktie in front, so you won't disgrace me going through the streets," I ordered after I had run a hand over his clothes and found nothing that felt like a weapon. "You can suit yourself about remembering that this gat is going to be in my overcoat pocket, with a hand on it."
He
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