“No one’s home, Jim. He couldn’t get through here.”
This was what she had been listening for.
The noise of descending footsteps died away.
Delia sprang to the telephone and waited eagerly. But the bell did not ring again.
· · · · · · ·
“Any trace of him, Jim?” asked the desk sergeant, as the big patrolman entered the police station.
“Naw. Anybody identify the body?”
“He had cards on him that gave his name and address. The poor guy never knew what hit him. He didn’t get the chance to give up his dough; one white-livered sneak croaked him from behind with a piece of lead pipe. We called up his home, but couldn’t raise anybody.”
THE WOMEN IN THE CASE
By Mary Sams Cooke