James Chase: Miss Shumway Waves a Wand

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.”