Death from Nowhere by Clayton Rawson Read Free Book Online Page A

seeing this, knew that it trumped any aces he might have. Quietly, while attention was still centered on the body, he moved toward Woody. Swiftly he whispered a dozen words into the reporter’s ear. Woody blinked at him, started to object, then nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. “Can do.”
    Pepper was saying, “And another odd thing. No shoelace in his right shoe. Inspector, you’ve got a puzzle on your hands.”
    â€œPuzzle,” Church growled. “It’s a nightmare! Brophy, get Miss Skinner in here.”
    Woody answered quickly, “I’ll do it, Inspector.” He hurried into the outer office. Miss Skinner came in a moment later, but Woody did not return. Don Diavolo, listening, heard the corridor door close quietly as Haines let himself out.
    The Inspector was saying, “I don’t know how you thought you could get away with it, Diavolo. Out the window, my eye! Did you really think we’d miss finding your other victim there? Tight-wire walker indeed!”
    Miss Skinner was staring down at the dead man. Her voice came suddenly, low, tense, half hysterical.
    â€œInspector,” she said. “That — that’s not Zalini! ”

C HAPTER VII
    An Early Arrest
    M ISS Skinner’s statement was too revolutionary to be fully comprehended all at once. Her words hung for a moment, vibrant and trembling, in the air above and then, as their full force exploded, flashes of amazement lit up the faces of her listeners.
    Inspector Church made a false start, stuttering like a motor boat, “But … but … but…” He stopped, gulped, and began again. “It’s the bandaged man you showed in here though, isn’t it?”
    â€œNo.” Blondie was positive. “I’ve never seen this man before! Look at his hand, the right one. That tattoo mark — the anchor. There was nothing like that on Zalini’s hand! I’d have seen it when he wrote that note.”
    â€œNow, Miss Skinner,” Church said soothingly. “Take it easy. That can’t be right. This has to be the man who called himself Zalini. You might very easily not have noticed …”
    Miss Skinner shook her head decisively. “It is not Zalini. His hands were neat, manicured. This man’s nails are ragged, dirty. I doubt if they’ve ever seen a manicurist. And I think he’s heavier. Yes — I’m sure of it.”
    Church regarded her morosely. “You’ll swear to all that on oath?”
    Blondie, frightened, but firm, nodded. “Yes.”
    â€œOkay,” Church said helplessly and thoroughly disgusted. “That’ll do.”
    Then he stooped above the body and rapidly investigated the man’s pockets. When he stood up he held their entire contents on the palm of one hand. Church frowned at his loot.
    It didn’t look very helpful. It consisted of two Lincoln pennies and one uselessly damp match folder,
    The Inspector was mad now. He decided he’d had more than enough talk. Look what it got him. He began barking orders and his assistants leaped to the task of carrying them out. Church stood in the center of the floor and spouted more orders as needed. The fur flew. He wanted action and he got it.
    He was thorough. Don Diavolo, watching, handed him that much.
    Every square inch of that office was scrutinized, probed, investigated, searched and what have you. The carpet came up; the walls were sounded. Even the ceiling got a suspicious once over. A fingerprint man sprayed and dusted until the air was misty with a haze of lampblack and aluminum powder. He produced a glass slide, ink, roller and cards, and took Don Diavolo’s prints, Miss Skinner’s, Mrs. Belmonte’s, Hagenbaugh’s, and those of corpse No. 2. Don wondered if he was going to take his own.
    In the midst of it all Lieutenant Brophy had an idea. “The corpse, Inspector,” he said with sudden excitement. “It — it