Fanquist came slowly down the stairs. Her large eyes were like ice-blue chunks of sky. She passed close to me. I saw she had a small automatic in her hand, which she held by her side. For a moment I thought she had joined in the fun and games, but something about her made me think otherwise. I suppose I ought to have grabbed the gun, but I didn’t. I was curious; I wondered what the hell she was going to do. I thought I was going to get a front-row seat at a first-rate news scoop. I was so sure that I grabbed the telephone that was plugged in at the table. I rang the night editor.
Rabener became aware of her when she was about twenty paces from him. He looked up and met her eye. He reacted like he had trodden on a rattlesnake. I guess that guy saw death staring him right in the face and did he sweat! His face went loose and yellow. His eyes stood out like toadstools.
Everyone sat watching. I don’t suppose anyone in the room realized that this wasn’t play-acting—but me!
She didn’t take her eyes off Rabener. The gun came up slowly, and the little black muzzle stared Rabener right in the face. Just before she shot him, the night editor came through. I gave him a running commentary on the whole set-up. Boy! Was that guy shaken!
The gun made a vicious little crack. It startled us into a half-foot leap. A spot of blood appeared in the middle of Rabener’s forehead. He swayed over with his hands pushed out, as if imploring her not to do it. Then he went down on his face.
She turned and walked back to the office without haste and without looking at anyone. It was the coolest killing of the century.
The uproar didn’t start until she had disappeared. Then holy hell started popping.
I just sat there, feeding the night editor with the stuff while he slammed it down on paper. It was on the streets within half an hour.
Handling a murder like that gave me a reputation that I’ve been trying to live down ever since.
There was no bother about arresting the broad. She just sat in the office until the cops came. They didn’t like to bust in on her at first. They were scared she’d start some more shooting. One of the braver ones went in at last. He found her smoking a cigarette as calm as a chink in a hop-dream.