Miss Shumway Waves a Wand (21 page)

I didn’t know what to say.

“That settles it,” Myra said grimly. “I won’t let you get your claws into him. You’ve talked too much already. I’m going to take you to the police. They can choose between us.”

Arym looked alarmed, “Oh no, you’re not,” she said, sliding off the bed. “That wouldn’t do at all,” and she made for the door.

“Don’t let her get away,” I shouted, trying to reach her.

Myra made a dash towards her, but Arym was too quick. As she opened the door, Lew came bounding in.

Then things happened. I kicked over the table in front of Lew. Aryrn disappeared out of the room, slamming the door behind her and Myra suddenly swooped up to the ceiling.

As the table went over, the man-trap apparatus crashed on the floor. The fall set the mechanism working; there was a whirr of wheels and the handcuff clicked open. I just managed to get it off my wrist as Lew came at me.

I stopped a punch on the side of my head that made my teeth rattle, but I managed to slow him down with a counter to his belly.

He stepped back and Myra grabbed his hair. She twined her fingers almost lovingly in his locks and pulled.

I thought he was going out of his mind. He looked right and left and then behind him. He couldn’t see anything because Myra was above him. While he was occupied, I stepped in and hit him pretty well where I liked. I remembered Whisky, so I let him have it. He tried to back away, but Myra, exerting all her strength clung to him like a leech. Then he looked up and saw her. He could only gape in horror and I had no difficulty in hanging a punch on his jaw that came up from my ankles.

He gave a tired little smile and folded up on the floor.

“Very nice work,” I said, blowing on my knuckles. “And now let’s get out of this fast.”

I reached up to take Myra’s hand and I pulled her gently to the floor. She was as light as a thistle down and I had difficulty in keeping her by my side.

“She’s gotten away,” she said desperately, holding on to me, her feet a few inches off the floor.

“Never mind that,” I said, “at least, I’ve got you and that’s something.” As I moved to the door I heard the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

“The window,” Myra said. “Quick!”

I let her go and dashed to the window. As soon as I released her, she shot up in the air and banged against the ceiling.

“Oath!” she exclaimed from up there. “That hurt!”

I didn’t pay any attention. I was leaning out and looking down into the street. It was a long drop and we’d only break our necks if we went that way.

“It’s too high!” I said, coming away from the window. “What the hell are we going to do now?”

Myra floated down and drifted out of the window. She hung suspended just outside. It was an unnerving sight to see her standing calmly on nothing thirty feet or so above ground.

Already a number of people had stopped and were staring up at her. Several were clutching each other and one fat woman began running madly down the street, screaming like a train whistle.

“Don’t stand there,” she said impatiently. “Give me your hand. I won’t let you fall.”

“What? You want me …” Then I heard the door crash open behind me and Myra grabbed me.

I don’t mind admitting that I shut my eyes as I stepped into space. But she had no difficulty in keeping me from falling. I felt a rushing sensation and I opened my eyes timidly.

We had flashed over some buildings, leaving Waxey’s dive far behind.

“Do you like it?” Myra asked, holding my hand firmly and smiling at me.

“Only because I trust you,” I said, taking a firmer grip on her. “Otherwise, I’d just go crazy at the thought.”

We swooped over a crowded street. I noticed a loiterer below. He glanced up casually, stiffened and then hid his face in his hands. I guess that guy would go off liquor for the rest of his days.

“Pick a quiet spot and let’s get down,” I said. “We’ll start a riot in a minute.”

We circled some buildings, spotted a deserted alley and floated gently to the ground. As we recovered our balance, we noticed an old man standing in a doorway staring at us with fixed concentration.

“Do you do that often?” he quavered, plucking nervously at his beard.

“It only happens when we’re a bit light-headed,” I returned, dusting myself down. “Think nothing of it.”

“I wish I could,” the old man said, wistfully. “It’ll haunt me for the rest of my days.”

“That won’t be long,” I said, kindly, “so it won’t be hard to bear.”

“Don’t tease him,” Myra said. “He looks as if he’s been through rather a strain.”

“I have, lady,” the old man said eagerly. “The trouble is no one will believe me,” and he went into his house and shut the door.

“Phew!” I said. “We’re lucky to get out of that.”

Myra suddenly faced me. “Did you really propose to that blonde?” she said, looking at me accusingly.

“But, darling,” I said hastily, “I thought it was you. There was a look in her eyes and…”

“You mean, I haven’t encouraged you?” Myra said seriously. “I suppose I haven’t,” and she reached up and kissed me.

“The proposal still stands,” I said, a few minutes later. “Will you consider it?”

“I will,” she said. “And now I want some undies. Will you take me somewhere where I can buy them?”

“We’ve got to be quick,” I said. “If the cops…”

“I can’t go around like this,” Myra said firmly. “We’ve just got to take a chance.”

At the end of the alley, I spotted a taxi and I waved. Just as we go in, Whisky came bounding up. He scrambled in as we drove off.

“Keep driving,” I returned, shoving Whisky’s foot out of my chest. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had time to think.”

Myra and Whisky were making a great fuss over each other, and I had to tell Whisky that when I wanted his tongue over my face I’d let him know.

“It’s certainly nice to see you again,” Whisky said, panting with excitement. “I’d given you both up for lost.”

“We’d given ourselves up for lost,” I said, taking Myra’s hand. “It’s a good thing you learned to float, sugar.”

“You know, I just can’t help it,” Myra said apologetically. “But I must get some undies. I just haven’t any confidence without them.”

“What have you done with them?” Whisky asked, pricking up his ears.

“Don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “It’ll take too long. Never mind about your undies. The cops are looking for you. They’ve only to hear I’ve been seen with a blonde and a dog and they’ll come after us like bats out of hell.”

“Very well,” Myra said, settling back. “But you’ve no idea how it preys on my mind.”

“The point to concentrate on is where do we go from here?” I said.

“That, I think, is for you to decide,” Myra said, slipping her hand into mine. “I’ll go where you say.”

“I’ve got to put you in some place where the cops won’t find you. Then I’ve got to get hold of Arym.”

“Who’s Arym?” Myra asked, puzzled.

“Your other self, my pet,” I said lightly. “That’s what she calls herself. If I get her, then you’ll be in the clear.”

“But how are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even going to think about it. I must first find a hide-out for you.” Then I remembered Harriet. “I know,” I said, and leaning forward I told the driver to stop at the first public telephone.

“This do you?” he asked, cutting across the traffic and drawing up outside a drug store.

“Yeah,” I said, then to Myra, “wait here, I’ve got to ‘phone.”

I found there was only one telephone booth when I got into the drug store and some dame was using it.

I went over to the soda-jerker behind the counter. “Is that lady going to be long?” I asked.

“I’ve got a taxi outside and I’m in a hurry.”

He shook his head. “She’s about through,” he said. “Anyway, I figure it that way. She’s been in there since noon and she must have used up most of the air in that little booth by now.

I thanked him. He had a pretty good grip on his business because the woman suddenly hung up and stepped out of the booth. She nodded to the soda-jerker and went out into the Street.

“What they find to talk about,” he began, leaning on the counter, but I didn’t wait to hear any more. I shut myself in with the telephone and put a call through to the
Recorder
.

Harriet was tied up with Mr. Maddox, I was told.

“Well, can’t you send someone in to cut her loose?” I demanded. “This is important.”

“How important would you say?” the switchboard girl asked. She didn’t sound impressed.

“Her apartment’s on fire and her old man’s trapped up on the roof,” I lied. “If that’s important to you, I guess you might do something about it.”

“I can’t interrupt Mr. Maddox for that,” she replied. “How long has he been upon the roof?”

I would have liked to have been right behind that baby. I’d have surprised her.

“Look,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how long he’s been up there. The point is the place is on fire and he gets dizzy when he’s high up. He wants to see his daughter before anything happens to him.”

“Well, I’ll tell her when she’s through with Mr. Maddox,” the girl replied curtly and rang off.

Maybe she didn’t believe me.

I had to leave the booth to get some change and when I got back some guy was entering the booth.

“Look, mister,” I pleaded. “I’ve got a priority. Would you mind giving way to me?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got a priority too,” he said. “My wife’s apartment’s on fire …”

“I know and she’s up on the roof,” I skid, in disgust.

He looked at me sharply. “I wonder how you knew that,” he returned, then he suddenly shrugged. “Well, hell I’ll wait. There’s plenty for her to look at up there.”

I thanked him and got back to the Recorder. “If you don’t put me through to Miss Halliday,” I said when I got the operator, “I’ll fix you good some dark night.”

“Let’s make a date,” she replied promptly. “The trouble is the nights are never dark enough these days.”

“How can they be?” I said, wanting to strangle her. “Well, you know what I mean. How dark does it have to be?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ll just choose the first dark night that comes along,” I said, snarling.

“I can’t do business on those lines,” she replied, giggling. “I like something definite. How about to-night? To-morrow there’s a new moon and it’ll be too light for fixing.”

Something jogged my memory. “New moon?” I repeated. “Did you say there’ll be a new moon to-morrow?”

“Sure, I have to watch little things like that. They make an awful difference in a girl’s life.”

“Never mind about your life,” I said quickly. “What’s the date?”

“July 31,” she replied. “Have you been shipwrecked or something?”

I nearly dropped the receiver. The end of the month. I remembered what Doc Ansell had said. Myra would lose her influence at the end of the month when the moon changed. I looked hurriedly at the clock on the wall. It was just five-fifteen. I had only seven hours to get everything fixed up.

“Hello… hello… hello?” the girl said. “Are you still there?”

“I think so,” I said cautiously. “Will you see how Miss Halliday’s getting on?”

“How about that date?”

“Sure, make it to-night. I’ll pick you up.”

“But how shall I know you?”

“Who, me? You’ll know me all right. I’ll be wearing a Zoot suit and I carry my left leg over my right shoulder. No one’s mistaken me yet.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Can’t you do anything about that left leg?” she asked at last.

“I can leave it at home.”

“Couldn’t you be a little rough with it for to-night?” she asked hopefully. “I’d stand the Zoot suit but the leg gets me down.”

“That’s the idea,” I pointed out.

She thought about this for a moment. “It’s a date,” she said briskly. “Miss Halliday’s free now. I’m putting you thr—r—r—ough.”

Harriet was all brains. I didn’t have to go into details. She got what I wanted almost before I had started. She told me where her apartment was and how to get in and she promised to be back early. I thanked her and rang off. I felt I’d lost ten pounds by the time I got out of the booth. I collided with the guy waiting to put through his call. He apologized.

“Excuse me, pal,” he said. “Can you remember what I wanted to telephone about?” I told him.

“That’s right,” he said. “I’ve got the darnedest memory. Do you know I just can’t remember whether the fire was to-day or last week. Ain’t that a hell of a thing?”

I shoved past him and went out into the street.

I found Whisky lying on the floor of the taxi, but Myra wasn’t there.

“Where is she?” I demanded.

“Get inside,” Whisky said. “Where have you been?” The urgency in his voice startled me, so I got into the cab and shut the door.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“How much longer are you keeping me here?” the driver asked angrily. “I’ve got a home if you haven’t.”

Whisky showed his teeth. “Sit there and like it,” he snarled. The driver got out of his cab hastily. “Come on, legs,” he said, clutching at his collar. “I’m going to start running.”

“Come back when you’re through,” I said. “You’ve got a nice evening for it.” The driver didn’t listen. He began running madly down the street.

I turned my attention to Whisky. “Now,” I said, “where did she go?”

“Keep down,” Whisky said in a mysterious mutter. “The cops have moved in.”

“What?” I exclaimed, startled. “What do you mean? Have they got her?”

“A couple of minutes and it’ll all be over,” he returned with ghoulish gloom. “She’s in that lingerie shop across the street. The moment you’d gone, she spotted it and made a dart for it. I hadn’t time to reason with her. There was a copper on the corner and he saw her. It took him just five seconds to call the riot squad. They’ve just moved in.”

I looked across the street. Two patrolmen stood outside the smart modiste shop, looking with interest at the various garments displayed in the windows.

“Why don’t they bring her out?” I said, feeling a little sick.

“How do I know?” Whisky said peevishly. I could see he was as worried as I was.

“Well, I’m not staying here,” I said, “I’m going to see what’s cooking. You wait here,” and I left the taxi and crossed the Street.

The two patrolmen looked like they were going to stop me, but I kept walking and they let me through.

The first guy I set eyes on was Clancy.

“Well, well,” I said, smiling at him. “Buying something for the little woman?”

“There you are!” he 8aid, swelling with rage. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where
is
she?”

I took a quick gander round the shop. It was certainly a nice place. The guy who’d put it together had taken a lot of pains to get it just right. It was all chromium furniture, mirrors and concealed lighting. The carpet was so thick that it tickled my ankles. There were a number of alcoves round the room containing life-size models on which were displayed bathing suits, lingerie and evening gowns. Some of these models were so snappy that I took a second look to make sure I wasn’t passing anything up.

At the far end of the room, a patrolman stood guard over a group of girls. He seemed to be enjoying his job. I could understand that. The girls looked like they had been lifted straight out of the front line of the Follies. There was a nervous looking guy in morning clothes, fussing around. I guessed he was the manager of the shop.

But there was no sign of Myra.

I turned my attention to Clancy. “Where’s who?” I asked. “Why don’t you relax sometimes, old boy? Life ain’t all work. Take a gander at those wenches huddling in the corner. Don’t they stir your pulse?”

“Don’t give me that stuff,” Clancy said, looking fierce. “She was seen coming in here and now you turn up. Do you think I’m dumb?”

“She… she… she?” I repeated. “What are you talking about? What she?”

“This Shumway bird,” Clancy said, clenching his fists and looking homicidal. “You’d better be careful, Millan. She’s wanted for murder.”

“I know, I know. But, what have I got to do with it? I just got here,” I said. “Haven’t you searched the joint? And listen, Clancy, while we’re on the subject, you’d better be careful. My paper won’t stand for me being kicked around.”

That slowed him up. He vented his temper on the cops.

“Don’t stand there like a bunch of stuffed eels,” he snarled. “Look for her. Turn this joint upside down. Take it to pieces. She’s here, so find her!”

The manager came rushing up. “I won’t have it!” he spluttered. “You can’t go into the dressing rooms. My customers wouldn’t stand for it. This is an unpardonable, unwarranted outrage!”

“Wait a minute,” Clancy said to the cops. Then he turned on the manager. “Do you think I care what you’ve got to say? A woman came in her five minutes ago and she’s still here. Where did she go?”

The manager wrung his hands. “I put her in that dressing room,” he said, pointing to an empty room near one of the alcoves. “She’s vanished. I didn’t see what happened to her.”

“Well, she’s somewhere around,” Clancy said, between his teeth. “Send one of your dames into all those rooms and get every woman out of ‘em.”

“This should be good,” I said. “A great out-door playboy like you wouldn’t know that dames go in those rooms to undress.”

“Keep out of this!” Clancy bellowed. “I’m going to find that dame if it’s the last thing I do.”

“It certainly will be the last thing you do if you drive a lot of undressed society dames out of hiding,” I returned. “Captain Summers’ wife buys stuff here.”

He pushed his face into mine. “If you don’t pipe down, I’ll make you sorry you were born,” he said violently, but I could see that I’d shaken him. “You want this girl to get away, don’t you? Well, she ain’t getting away.”

I shrugged. “Go ahead,” I said. “It’s your funeral.”

He turned back to the manager. “Get ‘em out!” he ordered. “Everyone of ‘em. She’s hiding somewhere in those rooms and she’s wanted for murder!”

The manager hesitated, then he decided that there was nothing he could do about it. He told off a couple of the girls and they went from cubicle to cubicle.

In five minutes about six women, in wraps, were standing indignantly before Clancy, who looked as if he were going out of his mind. Myra wasn’t among them.

While he was staring at them, I wandered round looking at the wax models. I began to suspect where Myra was hiding. Sure enough, one of them looked familiar. I looked again and Myra met my eyes imploringly. She had on a smart black frock and a large floppy hat which hid her face. Standing with the other models, it was impossible to spot who she was until you got right up to her.