Deadly Weapon Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Wade Miller
the last straw. It’s like a flag.”
Walter James leaned back in his chair and laughed a wholehearted laugh. Laura Gilbert began to smile slowly and a moment later her tinkling laugh played an obbligato for the private detective’s harsher tones.
“Thanks,” she said softly. Her eyes met Walter James’s.
“My pleasure,” he said. “I was strung as tight as a violin string.”
Clapp said thoughtfully, “I never knew a girl yet who didn’t think that her ears were too big. My daughter’s the same way.”
The girl smiled, unconvinced. “But mine really are, Lieutenant.”
“Maybe it’s because anybody’s ears seem big if you look at them long enough,” said Walter James and brought out his cigarettes.
Clapp dug up his pipe, regarded it painfully and tucked it away in his desk drawer. “Been smoking too much lately,” he explained and leaned back. “Well, I never thought at eight o’clock Saturday morning that I’d still be here at one o’clock Sunday morning.”
Laura Gilbert laughed. “I never thought I’d be here at all.”
Clapp grinned engagingly across his desk. “And you, James — did you ever expect to be here?”
“I had considered the possibilities,” he admitted. “Right now I’m expecting us both to be arrested for keeping Miss Gilbert out so late.”
“You can forget that,” she said quickly. “I come and go as I please.”
“Nobody does that,” said Clapp, “and I’ve got a houseful of city guests back here as extreme examples. Nobody’s ever succeeded in being a completely free agent.”
“Keep an eye on me,” said Walter James.
“I will,” smiled Clapp agreeably.
The hall door, lettered AUSTIN CLAPP HOMICIDE, jolted open and Felix came into the office. He was still panting slightly.
“God, how I hate these cases with exercise,” he breathed.
“Have a beer and give us the word,” suggested Clapp. “We’re just getting settled for the night.”
Felix laid a pistol on the desk top and began rummaging in the icebox. “Here we are,” he announced. “Who’s got the opener?” Clapp produced it from the desk drawer. Felix jammed it into the can and took a long draught. “That’s better.”
Laura Gilbert leaned forward and pressed the edge of the desk with both hands. “Well, tell us,” she insisted. “Did you catch anyone?”
“She’s taken over,” Clapp enlightened Felix with a grin.
“Oh,” said Felix. He sat on the edge of the desk. “Well, here’s my report. Nobody. Nobody seen or heard lurking around the neighborhood. Couple of footprints in the alleyway but they were scuffed up — might not have been fresh, anyway. There’s the gun — fancy job, .25 caliber, one shell fired. The slug we dug out of that picture’s — ah — tummy matches the rifling. No prints. Marks on the outside of the barrel indicate a silencer. We didn’t find any silencer. The gun hasn’t been cared for. Pretty grimy.” He stopped talking suddenly. “You people as tired as I am?”
Clapp picked up the gun, smelt it, inspected it closely. “Give it to the lab tomorrow. Maybe Larry can make something out of the junk in the boltheads.” He centered the pistol carefully on his blotter and watched the light reflections from its silvered surface as he talked.
“There are two possibilities, offhand. One is that whoever occupied that seat to the right of the Filipino boy began worrying about Miss Gilbert remembering something about him and hung around to take a potshot at her.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Have you remembered that something yet, Miss Gilbert?”
“No — no, I’m not even sure there was anyone ever in that seat.”
“There had to be,” said Walter James. “You didn’t knife the man.”
“Why not?” said Clapp suddenly.
Two ivory cords stood out on the girl’s throat. “No,” she protested faintly. “I’ll try to remember. But I don’t think there’s anything to remember.”
Clapp stood up, a tower in the small
Walter James leaned back in his chair and laughed a wholehearted laugh. Laura Gilbert began to smile slowly and a moment later her tinkling laugh played an obbligato for the private detective’s harsher tones.
“Thanks,” she said softly. Her eyes met Walter James’s.
“My pleasure,” he said. “I was strung as tight as a violin string.”
Clapp said thoughtfully, “I never knew a girl yet who didn’t think that her ears were too big. My daughter’s the same way.”
The girl smiled, unconvinced. “But mine really are, Lieutenant.”
“Maybe it’s because anybody’s ears seem big if you look at them long enough,” said Walter James and brought out his cigarettes.
Clapp dug up his pipe, regarded it painfully and tucked it away in his desk drawer. “Been smoking too much lately,” he explained and leaned back. “Well, I never thought at eight o’clock Saturday morning that I’d still be here at one o’clock Sunday morning.”
Laura Gilbert laughed. “I never thought I’d be here at all.”
Clapp grinned engagingly across his desk. “And you, James — did you ever expect to be here?”
“I had considered the possibilities,” he admitted. “Right now I’m expecting us both to be arrested for keeping Miss Gilbert out so late.”
“You can forget that,” she said quickly. “I come and go as I please.”
“Nobody does that,” said Clapp, “and I’ve got a houseful of city guests back here as extreme examples. Nobody’s ever succeeded in being a completely free agent.”
“Keep an eye on me,” said Walter James.
“I will,” smiled Clapp agreeably.
The hall door, lettered AUSTIN CLAPP HOMICIDE, jolted open and Felix came into the office. He was still panting slightly.
“God, how I hate these cases with exercise,” he breathed.
“Have a beer and give us the word,” suggested Clapp. “We’re just getting settled for the night.”
Felix laid a pistol on the desk top and began rummaging in the icebox. “Here we are,” he announced. “Who’s got the opener?” Clapp produced it from the desk drawer. Felix jammed it into the can and took a long draught. “That’s better.”
Laura Gilbert leaned forward and pressed the edge of the desk with both hands. “Well, tell us,” she insisted. “Did you catch anyone?”
“She’s taken over,” Clapp enlightened Felix with a grin.
“Oh,” said Felix. He sat on the edge of the desk. “Well, here’s my report. Nobody. Nobody seen or heard lurking around the neighborhood. Couple of footprints in the alleyway but they were scuffed up — might not have been fresh, anyway. There’s the gun — fancy job, .25 caliber, one shell fired. The slug we dug out of that picture’s — ah — tummy matches the rifling. No prints. Marks on the outside of the barrel indicate a silencer. We didn’t find any silencer. The gun hasn’t been cared for. Pretty grimy.” He stopped talking suddenly. “You people as tired as I am?”
Clapp picked up the gun, smelt it, inspected it closely. “Give it to the lab tomorrow. Maybe Larry can make something out of the junk in the boltheads.” He centered the pistol carefully on his blotter and watched the light reflections from its silvered surface as he talked.
“There are two possibilities, offhand. One is that whoever occupied that seat to the right of the Filipino boy began worrying about Miss Gilbert remembering something about him and hung around to take a potshot at her.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Have you remembered that something yet, Miss Gilbert?”
“No — no, I’m not even sure there was anyone ever in that seat.”
“There had to be,” said Walter James. “You didn’t knife the man.”
“Why not?” said Clapp suddenly.
Two ivory cords stood out on the girl’s throat. “No,” she protested faintly. “I’ll try to remember. But I don’t think there’s anything to remember.”
Clapp stood up, a tower in the small