CHAPTER IX CLUES
"It's queer the way the thing works out." Sergeant McCarthey looked thetwo boys squarely in the eyes when Drew Lane asked him how he hadprogressed with the radio station case.
Meanwhile Johnny was sizing up the sergeant. Nothing very wonderful tolook at, this Sergeant McCarthey. Average size he was, with a face like ahawk. His nose was too long. It was curved like a beak. Shining out frombehind it were two small black eyes. His head was, for the most part,bald, and he was but forty-five.
"Reminds me of a bald eagle," Johnny told himself.
To complete the picture Johnny discovered an ugly scar running down thesergeant's jaw and around his neck. The sergeant had got that scar duringhis first year of service. A holdup man, caught in the act, had pretendedto surrender. He had given up his gun, but seeing an opening, had stabbedMcCarthey, half behind his back. From that time on McCarthey beganearning the name of the hardest man on the force. Certainly he made them"stick 'em up, and keep 'em up." For all that, there were those who knewthat the sergeant had a very human side.
"What do you think, Drew?" he shot at the young detective. "Do you thinkthose pickpockets had their gang walk in on this boy and beat him up?" Hewas speaking of Johnny.
"Tell the truth, I don't," said Drew Lane. "First place they laughed whenthey saw him. If--"
"Can't tell as much about a crook's laugh as you can a bullfrog's croak,"McCarthey broke in. "Not as much. When a frog croaks he's saying he'shappy. A crook's liable to laugh when he gets ten years."
"It's not just that," said Drew. "You know yourself that pickpockets aresneaks; coyotes, not wolves. They may be well organized in some cities.They're not in this one."
"You're right," said McCarthey, shuffling a sheaf of papers on the desk."That possibility is about all there is to that clue. But we'll keep thesheets; you never can tell.
"I work it out this way." He spread five sheets of paper on the desk."See! This one is for your pickpocket friends who are naturally afraid ofJohnny as a star witness against them. We'll put it over here." He laidit aside.
"But what about the squad call that was going through when the raid onthe radio station was made?" Drew broke in.
"I'm coming to that. That's the queer part," the sergeant went on. "Yousee I have four sheets left. That means four possibilities.
"Since you insist, we'll take the call that was going through when thestation was raided. You'll be surprised. That squad call was a noticethat someone was breaking in over on Lake Shore Drive. Swell apartment.People all gone. When the radio failed to give the alarm, a squad wassent out from the local police station, and the burglars were caught."
"Oh!" Johnny leaned forward expectantly.
"That's what I thought," grumbled the sergeant. "But they turned out tobe two kids, one about twenty, the other younger. Dressed like collegekids, they were, in yellow slickers decorated with hearts and kewpies;you know the sort.
"But let me tell you one thing. You may lay a bet those boys never sawthe inside of any college. I've been watching. We don't get many realcollege boys. When they're smart enough and good enough workers to get upto college, they're too smart to think they can beat the game by turningcrooks."
"But where did the boys come from?" Johnny asked.
"That's what they didn't tell," said McCarthey. "If we knew, it mightthrow some light on the subject. But you can see how likely it is that abunch of kids are going to figure out that they'll get caughtburglarizing an empty flat unless they send someone to beat up a radioannouncer or two. And besides, if they did, who would they get to go for'em? Too dangerous. Lot worse than burglarizing.
"So that," he threw the second sheet aside, "looks like a doubtfulchance. But we'll keep 'em all.
"Another queer thing." He turned to the third sheet. "Not many cases goout over the air. We can handle 'em other ways. Three an hour is a goodmany. But in that fifteen minutes when the radio station was dead,smashed to bits, there were three squad calls that did not go out, andtwo were mighty important.
"You know that long row of warehouses just back of your shack, Drew?" Heturned to Drew Lane.
"Sure."
"Some cracksmen burst the safe in the third one from the water, tenminutes after the radio station was smashed."
"That looks like a hot scent," said Drew, starting forward to bend overMcCarthey's sheet.
"Rather blind one, at that," said the sergeant. "No one saw them. Astraggler heard the blast and turned in the alarm. Squad came. Safe waslooted. Birds flown. Might have gone a dozen ways, rowboat, on foot, in acar. Gone, that's all. Got something over a thousand dollars. Leftnothing, not even a fingerprint."
"It's too bad," sighed Drew. "I'd say that was the likely case. Going toblow up a safe. Mighty few cases these days. Since the radio gave us alift, electric drills are cheap. Radio's too quick for them. Whang! goesthe blast; r-ring-ring! the telephone; gong-gong! the radio; and thepolice squad is on the way; all too soon for the safe-cracker.
"Easy enough to see why they'd send an accomplice over to break up theradio!"
"Ah, well!" McCarthey's narrow eyes contracted. "Give us time. Not somany of 'em escape us.
"The other case that came off in that fateful quarter of an hour was atheatre holdup on State Street, just over the river; one of those quietlittle affairs. Two men say, 'Stick 'em up! Give us the swag. Don't yell!Don't move for a full minute, or you'll be dead!' A car. Quick getaway.And there you are!
"No clue. Nothing to go by. One of those things that are mighty hard totrace."
"And you don't think they could have had a friend--" began Johnny.
"Who made you a call? Not likely," McCarthey laughed. "Little those birdsfear the radio. They're too quick. No radio will ever stop 'em. They'relike the army transports during the war that were too fast for thesubmarines.
"This last sheet," he added, "I have saved for gentlemen who, on otheroccasions, have had their gentle business of robbing, burglarizing,bombing, safe-blowing and the like interfered with. From time to time Iwill enter the names here of those who show undue resentment to the radioactivities of the police.
"And that, boys," he concluded, once more shuffling his sheaf of papers,"appears to bring the case to date. These are the facts. Draw your ownconclusions."
"Conclusions!" Johnny said as he left the office. "I only conclude that Iwas slugged; that my telephone was smashed; and that my head still isvery sore."
"Give him time," said Drew. "He seldom fails. In the meantime, we must doour bit."