To Catch a Thief by Craig Rice

Author:Craig Rice
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2020-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“Don’t make a sound,” John Moon whispered fiercely.

He felt along the wall for the electric switch, closed the door and turned on the light. Then they could see the body of Florence Starr, hanging from a hook high above the floor, suspended by a bathrobe cord.

“Dear Heaven,” Laura Kane moaned softly. “She’s killed herself. Frightened to death, poor darling.” John Moon shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

He inspected the body closely, without touching it. The bright-colored cord was knotted skillfully in a slip noose at the back. He walked around to the other side.

“Look at this,” he whispered to Laura Kane.

Just at the edge of one temple was a small discoloration. He examined it searchingly. Yes, it was a bruise or rather the edge of a bruise. Whoever had made it had struck above the hairline.

“No, she didn’t kill herself.”

Laura Kane’s face went white. “Murdered!”

“It must have been murder. She never could have tied that knot the way it is, in back. And that little bruise on her forehead—I think the murderer knocked her unconscious first.”

“He—must have found her.”

“He must have,” John Moon said between tight lips. “Now listen. I’m going to give you the phone number of a man named Donovan—a private detective. Tell him as briefly as you can what happened, and have him meet you near here.”

He switched off the light and closed the door carefully behind them, then guided Laura Kane down the stairs and out into the street. A little distance from the house, he paused.

“Miss Kane—I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know she was a close friend of yours. I know exactly how you feel.”

“She was the best friend I had,” said Laura Kane. “Then if you want to help find the man who killed her, call Donovan for me. Here’s his number.”

Before she had time to say another word to him, he had vanished into the darkness. She stared after him for a moment and then went into a drugstore.

Laura Kane’s message was brief. “This is Laura Kane, a friend of Florence Starr. She has been murdered. John Moon told me to call you instead of the police.”

“Where are you?” Donovan said sharply.

She named the drugstore she was telephoning from and inside of five minutes he was on his way.

He found Laura Kane hunched disconsolately on a soda fountain stool in the drugstore. His greeting was a few hesitant words of sympathy.

She smiled at him gratefully. As they walked to the dingy little rooming house, she told him the story of how John Moon had come to her that afternoon and talked her into taking him to see Florence Starr. “Here, this is the place,” she said at last.

For the second time that night Laura Kane led the way up the ramshackle staircase to the dreary little third floor room.

Donovan took one quick glance, and said, “Do you know if there’s a telephone in the house?”

“There’s a nickel phone down the hall.”

“Thanks. I’m going to call the police right away.

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