Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine Presents Fifty Years of Crime and Suspense Read Online Free PDF Page B

groceries in one corner of the room, also a large desert-type water bag. Blankets were spread out in another corner. Well back from the door, a can of beans was warming over a Sterno stove. A man stood over it, looking impatiently down at the food.
    Mitch knew who he was, even without the sunglasses and cap. He also knew who he was not —for this man was bald and well under six feet tall.
    Mitch kicked open the door and went in. The guy let out a startled “Gah!” as he flung himself forward, swinging.
    He shouldn’t have done it, of course. Mitch was sore enough at him, as it was. A full uppercut, and the guy soared toward the roof. He came down, horizontal, landing amidst the groceries.
    Mitch snatched him to his feet and slapped him back into consciousness. “All right. Let’s have the story. All of it and straight, get me? And don’t ask me what story or I’ll—”
    â€œI w-won’t—I mean, I’ll tell you!” the man babbled frantically.
    â€œWe—tied into Lonsdale at a motor court. Figured he was carrying heavy, so Babe pulled the tears for a ride. We was just going to hold him up, you know. Honest to Gawd, that’s all! But—but—”
    â€œBut he put up a fight and you had to bump him.”
    â€œ Naw! No!” the man protested. “He dropped dead on us! I swear he did! I’d just pulled a knife on him—hadn’t touched him at all—when he keeled over! Went out like a light. I guess maybe he must have had a bad ticker or something, but anyway …”
    Mitch nodded judiciously. The Pig had indicated that Lonsdale was in bad health. “So okay. Keep singing.”
    â€œW-well, he didn’t have hardly any dough in cash like we thought he would. Just that mess of checks. But we’d pumped him for a lot of info, and we figured if we could find the right kind of chump—excuse me, Mister—I mean, a guy that could pass for Lonsdale—”
    â€œSo you did a little riding up and down the highway until you found him. And you just damned near got him killed!”
    He gave the guy an irritated shake. The man whimpered apologetically. “We didn’t mean to, Mister. We really figured we was doing you a favor. Giving you a chance to make a piece of change.”
    â€œI’ll bet. But skip it. Where’s Babe?”
    â€œAt the hotel.”
    â€œNuts!” Mitch slapped him. “You were going to hole up here until the heat was off! Now, where the hell is she?”
    The man began to babble again. Babe hadn’t known how soon she could scram. There’d been no set time for joining him here. She had to be at the hotel. If she wasn’t, he didn’t know where she was.
    â€œMaybe run out on me,” he added bitterly. “Never could trust her around the corner. I don’t see how she could get away, but—”
    Mitch jerked a fist swiftly upward.
    When the guy came to, he was naked and the room had been stripped of its food, water, and other supplies. His clothes and everything else were bundled into one of the blankets, which Mitch was just lugging out the door.
    â€œWait!” The man looked at him, fearfully. “What are you going to do?”
    â€œThe question,” said Mitch, “is what are you going to do.”
    He departed. A mile or so back up the road, he threw the stuff into the ditch. He arrived at the hotel, parked, and indulged in some very deep thinking.
    Babe had to be inside the joint. This money-hungry outfit was hiding her for a price. But exactly where she might be—in which of its numerous rooms, the countless nooks and crannies, cellars and sub-cellars that a place like this had—there was no way of telling. Or finding out. The employees would know nothing. They’d simply hide themselves if they saw him coming. And naturally he couldn’t search the place from top to bottom. It would take too long. Delivery