The radio cop

By Vic Whitman
Patrolman Tom Jennings, who claimed he had a flair for poetry, described him thus:
A talking fool with a voice like a dove And a face that only a mother could love, Small and ready to fight at a nod Was Officer Cates of the wave-length squad.
Which, after all, wasn’t so far out of the way. For certainly young Dave Cates, official announcer for the police division of radio station KYK, was far from being an Adonis. He had a measure of pugnacity, and he had a splendid voice.
Cates was talking now before the microphone in the police room over the studio of KYK. Smoothly his voice went out to the world:
“The rush order on the new uniforms for the men of the Dolliver Street detail has been filled and the uniforms have been sent out. Orders are that they be put on as soon as received.”
Not particularly interesting to thousands of the idly curious who chanced to be tuned in, but decidedly interesting to listening police details all over the great city. To them the code dispatch meant this:
“Big Ed” Margolo is free, having been acquitted of the murder charge against him. Dolliver Street detail must guard against resumption of gang war between Margolo and “Red” McGuirk.
As the announcer was about to go on talking his alert ears caught the buzzing of the muffled telephone bell in the adjoining room.
“Please stand by for one moment,” he said, and stepped into the phone room.
“What is it, Henry?” he inquired. “More dope from headquarters?”
The telephone operator grinned. “Headquarters—my neck!” he grunted. “Just another dame callin’ up to rave about that voice of yours. Wants to know if you’ll send her an autographed picture of yourself.”