The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1937-05-06

if there was anyone around whom
he possibly could accuse OF bother
ing him.
you'll find everything ship
shape" assured him blithely.
Don't be too hard on the boys"
Cantwell glared at me. you
mind you. business and I'll MIND
mine" he said, and passed on.
Outside a curious throng had
gathered on the sidewalk. In the
forefront was group of news
paper photographers with their
cameras, trying to persuade a
stolid policeman at the door to let
them in. l beckoned to Donahue,
the Express phi tograp her.
There's only one picture of the
girl in the apartment" told him,
land that's a pen-and-ink portrait
by the artist she used to pose for.
Harris is going to try to borrow 1t,
but if Cropsy won't let go Of it
maybe you can get him to let you
make a copy. And when Wrenn-
that's the artiSt-gets here you
might ask him if mes got any
more pictures of Margie Shannon
around his studio. And be sure to
get a picture of the maid who
found the body-Bertha Ramsey'S
her name. And you might get the
manager, too-a wet smack, by
the way-and that dame on the
telephone switchboard, Just for
spite. And don't forget Wrenn."
Donahue gave me a baleful look.
Anything else?" he asked sarcas-
tically. Say, before I make pic.
ture I have to get in, don't I? How
long is that dumb bull going to
stand there and block us out?"
"Cropsy's orders" I said. Soon
as they take the girl to the
morgue and Cantwell gets through
looking for finger-prints, CropSy
will see that the photographers get
a break. Get a good shot OF the
room; it'll be important"
Donahue edged away. I'm
ducking before you get any more
bright ideas" he said, and
thumbed his nose at me in dis
gust.
My cab was still waiting for me
at the curb. I was halfway in it
when I saw Grady Williams of the
Public Opinion sauntering lei
surely toward the apartment.
Hello" he said heavily. Il see
the afternoons get another break.
What's it like? Any good?"
80 far"
Night Telephone Call Stirs
Reporters Ire
THAT silly day city editor OF
ours got me out of bed" Grady
complained. HE can't get it
through his head that he's work
ing on a morning paper. He's
always waking me up in the mid
die Of the night like this with an
assignment"
He paused to light a cigarette.
Funny thing" he commented,
"this breaking right on top Of that
conversation we we're having last
night about murders"
I nodded. According to the
dope, she must have been killed
while we were talking"
Gee! that's almost enough to
give a guy the shivers. Well,
alley-oop. Not holding anything
out on me, are you?" he added
with quick suspicion.
mot much, Sucker. Seen the
afternoons YETI"
yep. Don't worry. Your sheets
got everything the Sun has" He
waved good-by as I drove off and
trudged into the apartment.
When the cab pulled up out
side the Express office, grabbed
copies of the Sun and Express
from a couple of newsboys on the
corner and ran up the stairs two at
a time. Time was getting short,
but I'd have time for hasty digest
of what already had been written
before turning out home edition
story.
Both papers, I noted with a
queer feeling that coincidence had
struck twice in the same day,
had used the same banner line. In
eight-column, heavy Gothic type
they proclaimed:
ARTISTS MODEL SLAIN
CHAPTER "