The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1933-08-31
Chapter 81
A PACKAGE or W. P.,s

GOLTN had obeyed. He had been
~ under observation at the restan.
rant, that was obvious enough, but
he did not know by whom or
whether by one or many. Then. later
on In the afternoon, Benny Malone
had telephoned again, and this time
had given him the street and nun.
Der Of q tobacco store where he was
to report at half past seven that eve
ming.
II no other customer was in the
store at the time. he had been in
structed to ask for q package of w.
P.'s-Otherwise he was to make any
purchase he liked that would serve
as pretext for his presence there
and wait until he was alone with the
proprietor.
Collins lips compressed on the
butt Of his cigarette. A package Of
w. P.'s! The Wine Press! Cap a
Forage had taught him that. This
was more than the thin edge of,the
wedge--it looked like a wide-fiung
door with Welcome" blazoned on
the doormat. Or was it the old, old
story Of the spider and the fly?
It was nearly half-past seven now.
He glanced around him. He was APP
preaching an old, elongated, two
story frame building with dormer
windows, a relic of New York's
early days, that flanked modern
six-story tenement.
It looked as though it had been
made over into two houses-at least
there were two entrances, one at
either end--but. while the one near
er him boasted a narrow porch be.
fore its door, the one at the far end
seemed to be that OF a store. and,
judging from the way the house and
tenement numbers had been rum
ming, it obviously must be the to-
bacco store he was looking for.
LIS glance, apparently casual.
= was suddenly critical, absorb.
ing details. He was abreast of the
porch now. An old, white-haired
man, the only person In the neigh.
borhood who, it would seem, did not
feel the heat. for he wore a rusty
black. shabby Prince Albert coat
buttoned tightly around him, sat
there on the porch in a rocking
chair. q cane across his knees, intent
upon a newspaper which he was
reading through steel-rimmed spec
tacles that struggled far down his
nose.
The man did not look up as Colin
passed by. Colin did not alter his
pace. A curious place, this! Besides
the two entrances he had already
nuted, there was also a third one
he now saw. IN about the center Of
the buildings basement entrance
from the sidewalk.
This was wide open, and over the
head Of the doorway at the bottom
OF the steps there was a "Shoes to
Mend" sign. The obvious questions
flashed into his mind. II this was
the Wine Press. was the cobbler
down there q factor-als the old
man on the porch?
He halted now in front of the
store. The window display had a
cheap appearance. White painted
lettering on the panes, the paint
scarcely discernible on many let.
ter. proclaimed the fact that one
Michael Barney dealt in cigars. Gig.
arettes, pipes, and tobacco.
It was the store he was looking
for acknowledgement through the
window Colin could see that there
was no one inside at the moment
except q wizened little man with red
hair who stood behind one OF the
counters.
Colin mounted the three steps
from the sidewalk. opened the door,
entered. and shut the door behind
him. 1t was small place. Prosper
ity did not seem TO lnrk in the seedy
showcases or on the none too gen.
erousiy stocked shelves. There was
q public telephone booth in one cor.
ner at the rear. Colin nodded pleas
antly. The man with the red hair
was looking ri him inquiringly from
across the counter.
''Fd like q package az W. P.'s,
Colin requested.
The man nodded in return.
You're Clarke I.unn. ain't you r
-Yes." said Colin.
s'I'm Barney announced the
other. 'It.s al right. ire been look-
ing Cor yon." he iarkna his heed In