The Washington times., 1932-04-16

NO one elSe-1 am really GeE'
rified-"
Quite Natural
Thatcher" cried Dougherty,
I'VE can't pass this UP. It's nat
ural-you understand"
Colt nodded slowly.
Very WE'LL" he yielded. II
shall be glad to supervise your
protection by the Police De-
partment-if you think you
need that. But only on my own
terms"
"Anything!" cried Lola.
"And what are your terms?"
from Vincent Rowland.
THAT you, Miss Carewe, place
yourself and your household
entirely in my hands. We must
60 to your home at once-and
you must answer all my queS-
tions.
Willingly" Lola Carewe
agreed, with q docile, child-like
gaze.
There must be no deviation
Of any kind from police orders"
emphasized Colt.
"You shall be the boss" she
promised, laughing with an et'
fort at lightness.
Poor Lola! If she had only
kept that promise!
Five minutes later I was
talking to Headquarters from
a telephone booth under the
staircase outside the Crystal
Room. At the other end Of
the wire was Inspector Flynn.
was transmitting Colts orders.
"The chief wants detectives
and one woman operative sent
at once to the apartment house
at Number TOO East Fifty
eighth st. Tell them to meet
us in the hallway on the Twen-
ty-second floor. Fix it with
the apartment house manager.
And the chief says to step on
it,"
A Good Cop
20 and also K" growled In
spector Flynn as he hung UP.
Emerging from the telephone
booth, I found Detective H.
H. Harris, Of the Fifth Avenue
Squad, waiting for us. Harris
was assigned to Mayfair every
Saturday night. He was a
first-grade detective, promoted
as are all the New York detec.
tives from the uniformed ranks
"a dark-haired man with
soulful expression, whose popu-
larity with the opposite sex
gained the Police Department
many valuable tips. Colt had
directed Harris to assist me.
Everything SET" Harris told
me. 1.-THE Commissioners car
is now in front Of the Forty.
sixth Street entrance. Three
motorcycle patrolmen are stand.
ing by. Would you mind tell
ing me what all this is about?"
I pretended not to hear him
as I reclaimed hat, stick, and
overcoat and led the way up
the red-carpeted stairs. Through
the glass of the revolving doors,
saw the chiefs car, and the
round. moon-like face of the
chauffeur. Neil Mcmahon, i'm.
passive as a Buddha above the
steering wheel. The air was
filled with whirling snowflakes,
and the wind made d harsh
sound. I was suddenly over
powered by a sense Of un-
reality. This New Year Eve
adventure seemed remote,
bizarre, incredible. The three
patrolmen were huddled together
like blue night-birdS in the
storm. The shields on their
breasts cleaned brightly. One
OF them coughed. These men,
Colts car, the storm-all were
real-but Lola Carewe's death
threat.
Guarded by the Police
When our party left the Ritz
Carlton Hotel that night, Lola
was under strict and adequate
police guard. Quickly she en-.
tered the Commissioners car,
and sat in the middle Of the
rear seat. Colt rode at her
left, and I at her right. Dough-
erty and Rowland occupied the
folding seats in front of us,
and Detective Harris sat be-
side the chauffeur in front.
At a word from Colt, we started
off at break-neck speed through
the slithering ice of the winter
streets, followed by three chug-
ging motorcycles.
THE glass of these windows
is pullet-proof," Dougherty ex-
planned. For no apparent rea.
son. Vincent Rowland laughed
softly.
Am to take it that we are
now impregnable from attack?"
he queried.
The District Attorney did not
reply. The car stopped before
the marquee Of an apartment
house, thin, tall tower on the
brink of the East River. Ex-
cept for the three uniformed
motorcycles officers, the side
walk seemed deserted. Shiv-
ering in the dismal cold, we
hurried into the lobby. With
an unnatural sense of appre-
hension, I looked around me.