“I tell you we’ve got to get out of here,” Sam West said.
The monkey on the bed continued to sit and chatter, but it was no longer motionless. It swayed back and forth rhythmically.
“For God’s sake!” said Sam West, “Shut up that damned monkey!”
Brokay looked at the little animal. “It’s simply terrified to death,” he said. He stretched forth his arms and made crooning noises.
The monkey stared at him. After at moment the chattering sounds of terror ceased, the moist brown eyes regarded Brokay speculatively. Then, so suddenly as to startle Brokay into dropping his arms, the monkey unfastened its tail and came through the air in a long, flying leap.
The monkey caught Brokay by the shoulder of the coat, climbed so that he sat huddled against Brokay’s neck, and, after a moment, Brokay felt the furry tail wind around his neck. The monkey ceased to chatter.
“Poor little devil, he’s shivering as though he’d been in a cold bath,” Brokay said.
“Well,” Sam West said, “this is your party. What are you going to do now?”
“I want to find out something about how she died,” said Brokay, and bent over the form.
“Watch those fingerprints!” the burglar exclaimed. “Get that glove back on if you value your life!”
Brokay paid no attention to him, but held the glove in his left hand while he placed his right hand on the bed and bent over the still figure.
“Expensive lingerie,” said Sam West. “Looks as though she was dressing to go out for a party. She had a heavy date of some kind and was going to put on her best clothes.”
“Here’s the wound,” Brokay said in a low voice. “It’s a stabbing wound just over the heart.”
Sam West turned a practical eye upon the discoloration which blemished the smooth white flesh. “That’s where it came out,” he said. “It must have gone in the other side.”
“You mean from the back?” asked Brokay.
“Uh-huh,” said Same West.
Brokay hesitated for a moment then, placing his hand tenderly back of the girl’s shoulder, turned the body. As he did so, he stiffened with horror as he saw the red pool which had gathered beneath the left shoulder.
“Told you so,” said Sam West.
“Good heavens!” said Brokay.
“Satisfied now?” the burglar inquired.
“Certainly not,” Brokay said. “We’ve got to do something about this. We’ve got to find out who she is. We’ve got to notify the police.”
“Got to what!” exclaimed the burglar.
“Got to notify the police.”
“And just who are you going to say is calling?” asked Sam West.
“We can explain,” Brokay said.
Sam West’s laugh was scornful. “Explain nothing,” he said. “You’re simply flirting with tike electric chair.”
“But I can give them credentials,” said Brokay. “I can explain to them that—”
“You might have an hour ago,” Sam West said, “but you’re a burglar now; don’t forget that. You can’t explain to them what you were doing in this house. You can’t explain how you crawled in through a window that had been jimmied. You can talk until you’re black in the face, but you can’t make anyone listen to you or believe you.”
Brokay was silent as a full realization of his predicament crashed home upon him.
“What’s more,” said Sam West, “we’ve got to get out of here. We don’t know what’s happened. We don’t know the motive for the murder. All we know is that the girl has been murdered, and that if anyone catches us here, we’re going to have the murder pinned on us, just as sure as—” He broke off.
Clear and distinct through the night air, sounding from some distance down the road, came the low, throbbing wail of a siren.
Brokay stiffened, stared at Sam West, with a sudden realization of his predicament.
The furry tail of the monkey tightened around his neck, and once more, the little animal began to shiver and emit low, chattering sounds of terror.
“Switch out that light,” said Sam West. “Someone’s heard all that commotion we’ve been raising. Get started.”
Brokay hesitated. The gun jabbed into the small of his back. “I’m running things now,” said the burglar. “Get that light off, or the cops will find two stiffs here instead of one.”
Brokay switched off the light.
“Walk ahead of me,” said Sam West, “and make it snappy. Make for that window we came out of. I’ll give you the light.”
He snapped on the flashlight, showing the carpeted floor. The gun jabbed into Brokay’s back. Brokay walked rapidly across the corridor.
“Faster,” said Sam West, and jabbed with the gun.
Brokay went down the stairs at a fast run, turned down the corridor.
“First door to the left, and step on it,” forward and turned a key in a radio, which illuminated a dial. “We’ll tune in on the police broadcast,” he said.
He slowed the car, and, after a moment, a mechanical voice said: “Calling all cars… calling all cars… calling all cars. Car Thirty-two answered a telephone call to the residence of John C. Ordway. As the police car approached the residence, two men were seen to run across the lawn and jump into a light roadster. When police hailed them, they refused to stop. A shot was fired which apparently hit the roadster. Both men are young, probably under thirty. They are of medium height, and run as though they had received athletic training at some time in their lives. One of the men wore a gray business suit, and the other wore a tuxedo. The taller of the two men, who is approximately five feet ten and one-half inches high, weight about one hundred and eighty pounds, had a monkey which was swinging to his neck as he ran.
“It is not yet known whether these men were burglars or were merely prowling about the house when they were disturbed, but they evidently are avoiding the police, and should be picked up for questioning at all costs. Car Thirty-two is continuing to search the neighborhood in which the roadster was lost. Car Sixty-four will swing in toward Thirty-fourth and Central. Car Eighty-two will run down Central until it comes to Thirty-fourth. Car Seventy-six will run down Forty-fifth to Grand Avenue, turn on Grand Avenue until it comes to Thirty-fourth and then meet the other cars. All other cars will keep a watch for a light roadster. Car Ninety-one will divert from its beat, to go to the residence of John C. Ordway, at Five-seven-nine Riverview, and make a report on what is found, after a complete investigation. That is all.”
Sam West turned to stare at George Brokay. “That damned monkey!” he said, and slammed his foot on the brake. “Put him out,” he told Brokay, as the car skidded in close to the curb.
“The poor little devil, he’s frightened,” Brokay said, “and—”
The gun in Sam West’s left hand jabbed meaningly and savagely into Brokay’s ribs. “Listen,” said Sam West, “this is no time to run a debating society. I should have known better than to take on a damned amateur. Either get that monkey out of here, or I’ll blow you wide open.”
Brokay disengaged the monkey’s tail from around his throat. The monkey, sensing his purpose, chattered and screamed, hanging on to Brokay’s arm.
“Get back,” said Sam West suddenly. “I’ll blow the damn little brute’s head off.”
“You know what will happen if you shoot here,” Brokay told him.
West cursed. “Throw him out, then, and make it snappy,” he said. “Break his damn neck! Beat his head against the side of the car!”
Brokay managed to unprison, the little animal’s arms and legs.
“Get ready to go,” he said, “I’m going to toss him out.”
Sam West snapped the car into, gear.
Brokay tossed the animal to the pavement. The animal screamed shrill rage. The car veered sharply from the curb and jumped into immediate speed.