The Second Johnston McCulley Mystery Megapack: 10 Classic Pulp Mysteries by Johnston McCulley

Author:Johnston McCulley [McCulley, Johnston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: megapack, anthology, collection
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2016-11-15T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER III

PETER NOGGINS

“Send Noggins!” said the chief of detectives.

Detective Peter Noggins asked for and obtained the services of a man from the fingerprint department, engaged a taxicab, and started for the residence of Garland Moberg.

When he came to the detective department three years before, Noggins had created a sensation on the day of his arrival. The sensation was not because he solved some deep mystery, but because he looked more like an overworked bookkeeper than a detective.

But Peter Noggins, for all of his quaint appearance and mild ways, had proved his worth. Now he was admitted to be the best man on the homicide squad.

“Garland Moberg—think of that!” the fingerprint man said.

“No use thinking of it,” Peter Noggins said. “When we get there we’ll find out all about it. If he’s been murdered, it will be up to us to find the murderer. That’s all there is to it.”

Peter Noggins yawned and looked through a window at the wet streets. The rain had ceased, but everything was dripping.

“It’s a bit cooler,” Noggins observed.

“Say, do you realize who it is that’s been shuffled off?” the fingerprint man wanted to know. “Garland Moberg! One of the richest men in town.”

“What about it?” Noggins asked. “Probably easier to find the murderer of a rich man than of some poor devil nobody knows. Stop fussing about it. Wait until we get there.”

The fingerprint man grunted and clasped closer to his breast the box he held. If you asked him, Peter Noggins wasn’t human. He never got a bit excited. You couldn’t impress the man. They called him “the common-sense detective.”

That nickname had been given him a year or more before when he had solved a particularly puzzling murder case and had declared to the newspaper boys that there had been nothing to his work except the application of common sense to the knowledge he had acquired concerning the crime.

Noggins’ method of work was canny, according to the other men in the department. He waited until all the fuss was over, and then he pointed out some little thing that nailed his man. The little clues that other men overlooked were the ones upon which Peter Noggins built his success and his reputation.

The taxicab reached the Moberg residence, and Noggins and the fingerprint man entered quickly. They found a doctor there and a man from the coroner’s office and old Renkin, with a white face. Noggins looked at the doctor and the coroner’s man and raised his eyebrows.

“Stabbed through the heart,” the doctor reported. “Death was instantaneous. Nothing has been touched. A glance was enough to assure me that Mr. Moberg was beyond all help.”

Noggins followed them to the door of the library, and the others stood in the hallway and allowed him to enter alone. Watching Peter Noggins at work was nothing to give a person a thrill. He approached the body, looked at it from a distance of four feet away, then glanced around the room. He noticed the open window and walked over to it.

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