Stop This Man! Read Online Free PDF Page B

loitered at corners? But there were people loitering at the corner. There were two men at each corner.
    Seized with a sudden hunger, Schumacher went to the kitchen and ate a plate of cold stew, some dry bread, and a few spoons of peanut butter. Then he went back to the living room and lit himself a cigar. The window was still open. Now there were three men at one corner and none at the other. A closed truck had pulled up to the curb near the fireplug next to the corner. And there were two men walking toward the house where Schumacher had his apartment. One was smoking a cigarette, the other was carrying a small, square satchel.
    “What time is it?” The one with the cigarette sounded nervous.
    “Five to three.”
    “They should be at the back now, you think?”
    “Give them another few minutes.”
    They started down the street slowly. The one with the satchel opened the top of the leather case and flicked the switch for a dial that showed through the opening. Immediately the box began a faint and intermittent crackling.
    “Turn that damn thing down, man. You wanna arouse the whole block?”
    “Take it easy. You can hardly hear it. What’s the matter with your nerves, anyway?”
    “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with my nerves.”
    “You scared of this Schumacher, maybe? He’s over sixty, you know. Here, have another cigarette.”
    “Thanks “
    “Well? Go ahead and smoke it.”
    “For chrissakes, stop picking on me. In case you and that damn box there haven’t heard, Schumacher’s got a reputation that goes back to when you were tripping over your diapers. And turn that crazy ticker off, or whatever it is.”
    “Can’t do that, Harry It’s science. And science never—”
    “Aw, shut up!”
    They walked without talking for a while. Only the traffic at the ends of the street made a noise, and the box they had along. Every so often it ticked and crackled.
    “Why’s that damn thing ticking all the time? Is everything radioactive, for chrissakes?”
    “This is nothing. You should hear it tick when there’s hot stuff around. But I guess you won’t hear it performtoday. Schumacher would be crazy to keep that gold around. What time now?”
    “Three sharp.”
    “O.K., let’s go.”
    “Wait!”
    At the end of the street where the closed truck was parked a man had appeared and seemed about to enter the short street. The driver of the truck climbed out of his cab and started toward the man. The stranger stopped, bent toward the wall of a building, and lit a cigarette. Then he continued past the street and disappeared.
    “Thank God,” said the man with the Geiger counter. “For a minute I thought that guy in the blue coat was coming this way. All right, let’s go. We stay in the hall for ten minutes while the guys from the back go upstairs and check the corridors. Then Herron joins us and we go up.”
    “I just hope that guy in the blue coat doesn’t decide to come back.”
    Tony Catell had spent his life trying to avoid trouble, and he had developed a sharp nose for it. When he turned into Schumacher’s street something brought him up short. There weren’t enough people. It was too quiet. Two guys down the block were walking too slowly.
    Cops.
    Catell controlled a panicky urge to run and took a step toward the wall of the nearest building. He lit a cigarette. Looking over his cupped hands, he saw a man climb out of a truck, turn toward him, and stop. The guy wasn’t sure, but he was watching. Who did they want? Schumacher? Himself? Suddenly a strong hot hate boiled up inside him, killing his doubt, his fear, his short moment of hesitation.Nothing was going to get in his way, nothing! Catell didn’t wonder how they had found Schumacher, whether they knew the gold was there, or whether they knew about him. He didn’t even stop to figure what to do, or how, or when. Catell turned into a thing possessed with one thought only: Get that gold!
    He had lit a cigarette to make his stop at the corner seem