Street of No Return Read Online Free PDF Page A

"I'll figure a way to break it to him." He bit his lip thoughtfully. "Tell you what. I'll take this man in through the side door. I wanna ask him some questions. Meantime, you go outside and wait."
The policemen released their holds on Whitey and entered the station house. The Lieutenant looked at Whitey and said, "All right, come with me."
They walked down the steps and around the side of the station house. The Lieutenant had his hands in his overcoat pockets and moved along with his head down, his lips slightly pursed to whistle a tune in a minor key. It was a song from many years ago and he couldn't remember past the first few bars. He tried it a few times and couldn't get it. Whitey picked it up and hummed the rest of it. The Lieutenant glanced at Whitey and said, "Yeah, that's it. Pretty number."
"Yeah," Whitey said.
"What?"
"I said yeah."
"Can't you talk louder?" Whitey shook his head.
"Why not?" the Lieutenant asked. "What's wrong with your voice?"
Whitey didn't answer.
They were approaching the side entrance of the station house. The Lieutenant stopped and looked fully at Whitey and said, "You got bronchitis or something?"
"No," Whitey said. "I talk like this all the time."
"It sounds weird," the Lieutenant said. "As if you're whispering secrets."
Whitey shrugged. He didn't say anything.
The Lieutenant leaned in slightly to get a closer look at Whitey's face. A vague frown drifted across the Lieutenant's brow and he murmured, "I bet you're full of secrets."
Whitey shrugged again. "Who ain't?"
The Lieutenant mixed the frown with a smile. "You got a point there."
Then the Lieutenant was quiet and they went along the side of the station house. They came to the side door and the Lieutenant opened it and they went in. There was a narrow corridor and a door with a sign over it with the word "Captain" and then another door with the sign "House Sergeant" and finally a door with the sign "Detectives." The door was partially open and the Lieutenant shoved it with his foot to open it all the way.
It was a medium-sized room with a floor that needed wax and walls that needed paint. There were some chairs and a few small tables and a roll-top desk. A tall man with a very closely waved and nicely cut pompadour of light-brown hair sat working at the desk. He glanced up at them, gave Whitey a quick once-over, and went back to work.
"Have a seat," the Lieutenant said to Whitey. He pointed toward a table that had a chair on either side. Then he took off his overcoat and put it on a hanger. On the wall next to the hanger there was a small mirror and the Lieutenant moved in close to it as though looking to see if he needed a shave. He stood there for some moments inspecting his face and adjusting his tie. He tightened the knot, loosened it, tightened it again to get the crease under the knot exactly in the middle. When he'd finished with that, he moved his head from side to side to see if he could use a haircut. Whitey began to have a feeling that it was sort of a gag and the Lieutenant was making fun of the neatly groomed man who sat at the roll-top desk.
Finally the man at the desk looked at the Lieutenant and said, "All right, cut it out."
The Lieutenant leaned in very close to the mirror and pretended to squeeze a blackhead from his chin.
"Very funny," the other man muttered. He bent lower over his work at the desk, his shoulders very broad and expanded past the sides of the chair. He wore an Oxfordgray suit of conservative but expensively tailored lines and his shoes were black Scotch grain and had the semiglossy British look. The Lieutenant had moved away from the mirror and was standing near the roll-top desk, looking down at the Scotch grain shoes.
"Where'd you get them?" the Lieutenant asked.
"Had them made," the other detective said.
"That's what I figured," the Lieutenant said.
The other detective sat up very straight and took a deep breath. "All right, Pertnoy. Lay off."
Lieutenant Pertnoy laughed lightly and patted the other