Death out of Thin Air Read Free Page B

really meant worse time, but he thought he’d better not admit it. He knew why the Inspector was there. Woody was helping to arrange a jail break publicity stunt and he had brought the Inspector along to discuss it. Fate had apparently decided that now was a good time for them to arrive. Don didn’t agree with her.
    Church stepped nearer the girl, got a look at her white face and barked, “Haines! Get a doctor. You” — he pointed at Chan — “phone headquarters!”
    Then he knelt beside the body, touched it and saw the marks on her neck. He sent a sudden lightning scowl at Diavolo and from the side of his mouth said, “Never mind the doc, Woody. The medical examiner can take care of this one.”
    Church looked at Diavolo a moment. “Well,” he growled then. “Out with it! What happened?”
    Don groaned inwardly. This was going to be anything but a cinch. When the Inspector heard the story he had to tell, Hell was going to pop.
    It did. It not only popped — it exploded with seventeen different kinds of colored fire and a detonation that was heard at Centre Street. Within thirty seconds, police cars were converging on the Manhattan Music Hall from all directions.
    Inspector Church had to believe some of the story — he had a dead body before him to prove it. But when Don mentioned the bat, Church made a half move as if to phone Bellevue’s psychiatric department and report the capture of an escaped lunatic.
    â€œSomebody is bats, right enough,” he growled. “You say that you and Chan here were all alone. Nobody else came in and no one left.” He snorted again, “Except for a bat. Maybe you want me to arrest the bat for murder?”
    â€œMurder?” Haines asked, startled. The events of the past few minutes had shaken even his reporter’s aplomb. And the memory of a certain cablegram he had received from London two months before didn’t add anything to his peace of mind.
    â€œYes,” Church said. “Murder. Poison, I think. She—”
    A bright gleam on the floor caught his eye and he knelt and picked up a gold-cased lipstick pencil. He started to rise again, but stopped, glimpsing something beneath the edge of the girl’s silver-fox cape. His hand lifted the edge of the cape and drew it aside.
    His eyebrows went up abruptly, and just as quickly flattened into a frown. His right hand moved quickly inside his coat toward a shoulder holster. It came out holding a thirty-eight automatic.
    For the second time within twenty minutes, Chan Chandara Manchu found himself on the wrong end of a gun that meant business.
    â€œAll right,” Church said flatly. “You just stay where you are. Woody, frisk him. And you might look up his sleeve for a knife. These Orientals …”
    Diavolo cut in. “Aren’t you being a bit hasty, Inspector? There’s no reason to—” He stepped forward.
    â€œOh, no? You stay put. I’ve had all the hocus-pocus from you I want. This case is solved right now!”
    Woody Haines and Diavolo leaned together above the body and stared at what the Inspector had found beneath the cape.
    There, on the floor, in scarlet — not blood as Diavolo thought at first, but lipstick — were four letters of the alphabet, scrawled in hasty, wavering strokes that matched the handwriting on the paper Don had concealed.
    The letters spelled the single word: “ Chan! ”

    The Maharajah (Don Diavolo to you)

    Woody

    Mickey

    Pat Collins (we think)

    Inspector Church

    Karl

C HAPTER IV
    The Man is Quicker than the Eye
    D IAVOLO objected strongly. “Look here, Inspector,” he argued. “Chan wasn’t in the room alone with her for more than a minute.”
    Church wasn’t impressed. He still held the gun on Chan. “So what?” he asked. “I could poison half a dozen people in less time than that. Are you trying to tell me he didn’t do