The Private Eye (Illustrated) by Adams Cleve F

Author:Adams, Cleve F. [Adams, Cleve F.]
Format: epub
Tags: NewBook, Mystery
Published: 1942-07-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

THE sound of a typewriter, so late at night, pointed him unerringly to Fran McGowan’s room. Fran liked to work at night.

The country club was not entirely deserted. There were half a dozen cars still parked in the drive out in front. Somewhere not too far away a couple of mocking birds sang lustily, probably to keep their teeth from chattering. There was the feel of snow in the wind which came down off the mountains and rustled the trees at Shannon’s back.

Finally Shannon went over to the oblong of yellow light which was Fran’s window and tapped on the glass. The clatter of the typewriter ceased. Her light went out. Presently there was the creak of a steel casement being cranked open and Fran stood there faintly outlined between him and the window drapes. “Go away.”

“Listen,” he said, exercising great repression, “this is no time to act like a prima donna.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I’m busy.”

“What do you think I am?” he demanded.

She hazarded a guess. “A heel?”

He resorted to cajolery. “Look, hon—”

“Well—”

Presently he stood inside the room and pulled the drapes, though he did not close the window itself. Frances turned on the lights. “I don’t know what I see in you,” she observed.

This was Shannon’s own line and he resented her use of it. “I’m your hero, remember? The guy you came up here to save from a fate worse than death.”

“There isn’t any,” Fran said. She had on a black Chinese silk robe with embroidered pale gold dragons. The dragons were the same color as her hair, and even in his moment of travail Shannon had to admit she was beautiful. She sat on the straight chair before the small table on which was her portable. An index finger rattled the space bar suggestively. “What have you been doing with yourself?”

He told her. “I think I’ve got things started popping,” he said. “This Dawes is cagey, but I think maybe he’s on the level.” He drew in a deep breath. “Like to do something for me, hon?”

“What?”

“Go down to Phoenix?” He explained that. “MacLeish has got a couple of good reasons to hate Pilsudski. One, Pilsudski is maybe Rygaard’s puppet, but just the same he’s taken MacLeish’s place as mayor. Two, Pilsudski is bringing in unskilled labor and forcing it down MacLeish’s throat. Carmen MacLeish had a rifle in her car and she happened along almost too opportunely.”

Fran looked at him. “Did you suggest that to our estimable chief of police?”

“Would I?” He scowled. “He probably knows it anyway. He’s Giles MacLeish’s man.”

She frowned.

“Are you sure of that?”

Still with his hands in his pockets he sat down in a slipper chair. “Well, no, come to think of it. Matter of fact, MacLeish tried to hire me to check up on Loop and Rygaard.” His brows made a straight black line. “At that, I’d know better where I was if I knew whether Carmen MacLeish really was in Phoenix.”

“Why don’t you send Gus?”

“Vogel is on his way down to Safford,” he said shortly.

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