The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-11-22
Chapter VII

Patrolman Dan Flynn's feet hurt
1t was bad enough, he told him.
self to stand half the night in the
rain, but to have murder piled on
him, to have the captain sore at him
and to have to find will-o'-wisp
taxi driver at 4 a. IN, was asking too
much of his even Irish temper.
How the devil did Dawson eX-
pect him to locate one taxi driver
Mick Smith - in city full of
taxi drivers? The taxi company
had been great help - yeah!
Smith reported in tonight" the
Office clerk told Flynn. Hes on
cruising service, reports in if bust
hess is slow. but goes on his own
If business is good" That helped
lot, yeah! They'd be glad to
have Smith come In If he called,
but Flynn knew that Smith would
stay out just as long as he could
Probably halfway to Florida by
now. with the cab parked on a
deserted road.
Smith wouldn't show up at home
either-too smart for that. Smith
was just too. too smart. Dawson
was too smart. Benthorne was
too smart. Everyone was too smart
everyone but Dan Flynn. And
he was just dumb cop. And
his feet hurt.
We'll, there was no use pacing
up and down the sidewalk In the
rain in front OF a deserted taxi
stand. There was a chance that
Smith might, from force of habit,
rctur INTO his usual haunts. But 1t
was small chance. Flynn knew.
A tab hurried by. Flynn whistled,
bu the cab sped on. Another taxi,
hurrying down the opposite side
of the street, whirled around and
the door swung open before Flynn.
Just drive he ordered, and
slurnping In the seat. kicked Off
his shoes, wiggled his toes In damp
socks and promptly went to sleep.
He awakened half an hour later
The cab was stopped, even the meter
was silent. Flynn looked around, saw
he was parked in front of an all
night lunch stand. Driver evidently
decided he needed a cup of coffee
Coffee might go well, Flynn thought
And ham and eggs and maybe some
pie. He bent over, fumbling in the
darkness for his shoes.
A car paused beside the cab,
then pulled in front to park. Flynn
grunted as he tied the laces. raised
his head just in time to see an
other driver climbing out of the
taxi parked directly ahead. He
held his heath as the man paused
at the door of the lunch stand.
What was that Dawson had said
about luck? The taxi driver go
ing through the door was - Nick
Smith!
A moment later Hymns service
revolver was IN his raincoat
pocket, and Flynn was pushing
into the lunch stand.
Hell, Nickl" he said softly.
The driver whirled on the stool,
stared at Flynn, then turned back
to his coffee. Flynns own driver
got up. quickly.
Just stopped for a cup Of java
ne explained. you were having
a good sleep and I hated to dis
turb you. All us drivers usually
stop here and gossip and eat"
Glad you did," Flynn answered.
"I've been looking for this guy"
He jerked his head toward Smith.
who? Nick?" the driver asked.
"Nick's all right. Sergeant. Now
II he was speeding, maybe"
Flynn ignored him, sat on the
stool next to Smith.
I've been looking for you,
Nick" he went on. about that
fast one you pulled tonight. Here's
your drivers license"
"Oh, thatl" Smith turne dto him.
"Sorry If almost spilled you,
Sergeant. That girl"
yeah, that girl" Flynn broke
in. Where Is she? Where did you
pick her up?"
IT don't remember. Hell. she