Experiment in Crime Read Online Free Page B

The idea annoyed him.

    But now, keeping her eyes on the police--who were already pushing one of the tables toward the corridor--she said softly, "Stay here and wait for me, will you?"

    "Certainly."

    She tapped on an inconspicuous door and was let into the cashier's booth. From there, she vanished.

    He turned with interest to the scene around him. One or two of the ladies lolled in chairs and their escorts fanned them. Half a dozen of the gentlemen were in states of apopleptic rage. Professor Burke felt this was uncalled for: the law was Right--ergo wrath was wrong. They were gambling; they had earned this their discomfiture.

    At the same time, he felt intensely gratified that names were not to be taken. He could imagine the attitude of the Dean--the President--the entire Faculty--if the morning papers disclosed that he had been seized in a raid on a gambling establishment! The thought brought perspiration on his brow.

    A passing policeman noted it. "Pull yourself together, Bud," he said amiably.

    Miss Maxson, meantime, had entered the office of the owner. Double-O was sitting on, not behind, his desk. His eyes were like flint.

    The Tip was there, too--looking frightened. Several other men--in tuxedos---stood about uneasily.

    "They were an hour early," the girl said.

    "Tell us something we don't know!" Chicago grated in The Tip's voice, this time.

    Double-O Sanders looked toward her--his eyes seeming to see nothing. His lips moved. "It's a cross."

    She swallowed.

    His head turned slowly, so that his gaze was fixed on the safe. "They'll take all of us--and the operating dough--to Headquarters. I don't know who ordered this. But I do know they wanted to find the dough right here. They'll hold it for a cut. Maybe take it all." The faintest scorn sounded in his quiet words. "Legal confiscation. "

    The Tip said, "Let's split it and lam." Double-O appeared not to have heard that.
    "All of us--except you, Connie." He turned toward her again. "Those cops know you?"

    "I don't know any policemen." She smiled faintly. "Except one traffic cop named McGuire."

    He handed the envelopes to her. "Get going."

    "If they don't see me coming out of here."

    He walked to the safe, after a moment. He masked it with his body and spun its dials. The door opened. "Envelopes," he said. "Plain, white. Large. Top left drawer."

    The Tip hurriedly procured them. Double-O took three. Into two of them he put unopened packages of bills--into the third, a partly exhausted package. The girl saw the denominations. She grew paler.

    He handed the envelopes to her. "Get going."

    She took two books from a case behind his desk. She put the envelopes between the books. She wrinkled her nose at him and the door closed behind her.

    The Tip said, "No kidding, Double-O! A dame. . . !"

    Mr. Sanders raised his adze-blade eyes.

    The Tip looked away.

    There was a knock on the door opposite the one Miss Maxson had used.

    "Come in, boys," Double-O called. "Not locked."

    Miss Maxson approached the professor--through the crowd. Most of the tables had been pushed out of the room now. Their legmarks showed in the deep carpets.

    The officer looked in. "All right! Get going! We've taken the Club personnel--so you'll have to find your own cars in the yard. I've got a couple of men out there to unscramble you--but drive easy, and you won't get scrambled!"

    The girl drew him deeper into the crowd. She handed him three hefty envelopes.
    "Keep these for me, will you?"

    He thrust them into his jacket pockets--two on one side, one on the other. They showed. She started to protest--and changed her mind. Maybe it was better that way.

    She dropped the books on the nearest chair. "Would you take me home? I have no car."

    "I'd be delighted!"

    It seemed very warm out of doors. The Club Egret was near the sea and the night air smelled salty. They walked around to the parking yard. Cars were starting--motors accelerated as if in anger, headlights snapping on. It was