The Glass Ladder by Paul W. Fairman

Author:Paul W. Fairman [Fairman, Paul W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, Pulp
Publisher: Phantom Books
Published: 1953-10-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

THE phone rang at nine-forty-five. Rick lay awake staring at the ceiling. He got his hand on the extension beside the bed without taking his eyes off the dirty spot caused by a leaking radiator on the floor above.

It was Lacey Crandell. “Still in bed I suppose.”

“That’s why I got into this business. You can sleep late,”

“I don’t like to upset your slovenly habits, but there’s a red ring on my calendar I wanted to mention. Our friend gets out today.”

“Uh-huh. Good old Mike. He’ll have a five dollar bill in his pocket too. You think he’d buy us lunch maybe?”

“He’s got more than that. He’s got a seventy-five thousand dollar rock he can lay his hands on. A rock that belongs to us.”

Rick yawned. “Maybe you’d buy lunch then. Somebody’s got to.”

“Let’s quit kidding and get down to business. This is what we’ve been waiting for so don’t muff it. Get off your back and on your toes. He’s probably in town by now.”

“I’ve got Freddy Cohn waiting for him at the station. He’ll probably come in that way. Freddy’s going to pick him up there and stick with him till he lights somewhere. When I find out where he registers in I’ll pay him a visit. What’‘ll I offer him? Twenty-five grand?”

Crandell squawked like a babe whose bottle had been snatched. Rick cradled the phone and went in and took a shower. He passed up the coffee this morning for an eye-opener out of the scotch bottle. The phone rang again while he was knotting his tie.

It was Garrity. “You got a tail on Duryea?”

“Yeah. Freddy Cohn. You know him.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Garrity said, mildly. “We’re going to keep him covered twenty- four hours a day. If you want to know where he is, just call up and ask.”

“Okay—where is he?”

“He got off the train at nine-thirty. He went into the grill and got a cup of coffee and made a phone call from a pay station there. After that he got on a street car and rode to Wilson Avenue. He registered at the Shore Arms, on Wilson near Broadway.”

“No stop-offs on the way?”

“Nary a one.”

Rick Mason examined the nail of the first finger on his left hand. Garrity waited and then said, “Hello.”

Rick said, “Hello.”

“I thought you were gone.”

“I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Do you think Duryea has another girl friend in town—besides the one in the morgue?”

“Not that I know of,” Garrity said.

“I’m going to do a little checking. If it leads to anything I’ll let you and your boss know,”

“Maybe I’d better go with you.”

“A waste of time. Two valuable men on the same lead.”

“Okay but listen—how are you going to handle the thing? You going to make him an offer?”

“Why?”

“Well I was hoping you wouldn’t do that. I doubt if you’d buy any information about a few killings. The other way—”

“The other way I’d be doing a little work for you at the same time?”

“You could put it that way—but—”

“I told Frain that anything I have is yours,”.

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