Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-06-12

"Gawsh.' he uttered profoundly
Then, IN be right over. Hold every
thingm He snapped on the light
paved over the chair for his clothes
The round figure of his wife stirred
rently beneath the covers, eyehd'
fluttering.
What's happened, dearie?" she
asked.
Nothing much-only just that Pete
Magnans been bumped off, There
was a suggestion of awe in his voice
"Whatr' She rose on one elbow
''Who did it?'
That's just exactly what l wan'
to know" grumbled the inspector
whoever shot Magnan oughtta get
gold medal instead of being sent uI
the river. That's my opinion-pri
vately expressed"
Garrow moved abruptly to the tele
phone and paused before the instru
ment, his plump arms limp at his
sides, his suspender straps dangling
Mrs. Garrow surrendered her body
back to the warm comfort OF bed
clothes and watched him through half
shut ewes while he called headquar-
ters.
"Get Chicago" he ordered. land find
cut where Dirk O'Byrne is. And put
some snap into it, too"' His voice
had taken on, for a moment, the Off
eial crispness which aroused his wife s
admiration.
"O'Byrne's the baby want to talk
to-" he announced savagely, as he
hung up He's been threatening to
bump Magnan off for the last two
months. Gawsh! I hope he's in New
York. Two an two makes four, and
you can't get around that!' His tone
had drifted into a grumbling again.
Wonder if I'd better call the COM
get O'Byrne"'
Don't forget to brush your hair,
joey"
"O'Byrne and Magnan-two dirty
blacklegs! Well, old girl, go to Sleep"
Her answer was a slumbrous 'Um-m."
He bent over her, touched his lips
lightly to her forhead and pulled the
covers more Snugly about her Shout
ders.
''O'Bryne and Magnan," he NUT
tered, as he went out. For nearly 20
years those names had been magic
the magic of crookedness, vice, cor
ruption. Cellmates first, then part
ners, with O'Byrne operating in Chi
cago and Magnan in New York. The
news of the dispute between them, of
had flashed through every police head
quarters in the country. And now
Magnan was dead.
THE taxi swept through dark, de-
serted lanes of apartment houses,
and Inspector Garrow looked at the
black windows where the great they"
slept. They" kicked about the police.
But resentment and envy were lost in
the quickening Of senses, the tighten
ing Of nerves, as the taxi swung into
the street where Pete Magnan's old
fashioned brick house lay. Pete Mag
nan had never been destinations. He
had left that for Dirk O'Byrne.
A plain-clothes man, lettering on
guard outside, nodded as the inspector
stepped from the cab. Coakley of the
detective bureau met him in the hall
way, severely on duty, derby hat
pulled down over his eyes, the cold,
macerated butt of a cigar in the cor
ner of his mouth.
1--WE got call from his daughter
twenty-five minutes after g." be-
gan Coakley. "She's his daughter by
that woman who left him."
81 know" interrupted the inspector.
$50 on-what happened?'
Who, after all, should know about
Magnan's past better than Inspector
Garrow? AS patrolman he had been
in the fringe of the raid that sent
Magnan up for his only hitch at Sing
Sing: as sergeant, lieutenant and on
up the ladder of promotion, Magnan
had always been Indignantly present.
Inspector Garrow's thoughts flashed
back. and he caught out of the past
clear INSTALLATION of those days in
court during Magnan's trial, of the
pale, beautiful woman who had sat
close to the man. So that was the
girls mother.
Coakley pushed back his hat frac-
ton of an inch.
81 found the girl in a pretty hys-
terical condition. Said she'd been out
dancing, come home, and discovered
Magnan on the floor of the parlor,
dead-shot. Twice" His forefinger
made two rapid gestures to his breast,
indicating the positions of wounds.
"She admitted right off the bat that
she and her father had been having
an argument"
Garrow's head jerked back. "About
what?"
1.-TWO things. One was about her
going out dancing at this flash club.
the Ell Dorado. He was strict with
her. she said. Didn't like to let her
out of his sight. The other thing was
an anonymous letter she got about the
old man. She didn't know that he'd
done time, 1 guess, or that he was
crooked"
Have you got the letter."
"No. She showed it to the old man
and he tore it up. They must ave
had a pretty hot argument. Anyhow,
she says that she went out to the
even after the old man had told her
not to. she went to the flash dump and
danced"
"Who were the people?"
'People she met in Denver, she said.
I've got the names and addresses.
Wen round 'em up"
How do you figure it,"
The two men stood under the faint
light, searching each others faces.
THAT she shot him." answered the
detective. 81 figure it like this: She's
got a temper of her own, or shed
never have cut loose an gone TO the
FL Dorado after he told her not to
She isn't used to drinking, an maybe
she got a little lit up. When she came
back the old man was probably wait
ing to bawl her out. You know what
kind of a rotten tongue he had wher
he got started"
Inspector Garrow nodded.
"She lost her head an popped him,
Coakley went on.
There was a moment of silence
broken by Garrow's brusque demand
"Find the gum"
''No. Not yet"
"Where's the grip"
Upstairs. Dawson's with her,
"W'hore was that anonymous letter
FROM"
Chicago"
"Oh. Some Of Dirk O'Byrne's nic'
work. Til bet my shirt. Magyar
slipped O'Byrne forged certine'
check for 100000 couple OF montn
ago-for bootleg. dope or MONKEYS
doptt know which. Think it over
l.-.A+c,. GOT in touch VIII