mouth. Didn't say a word. He waited only a second until the door three-quarters opened and then he suddenly lunged forward and crashed into the room, pushing her roughly aside with one heavy, long arm as he entered. It was then that she saw the gun in his hand.
Sue didn't scream. She did nothing, nothing at all but simply stand there, her mouth agape and her eyes wide and alarmed.
He moved fast, still saying nothing. The hand which was not holding the gun whipped out and found the light switch and the room was suddenly bathed in brilliance. It took him less than a second to see that there was no one in the room except the two of them and before Sue had a chance to find her voice, he passed on into the bedroom. She heard the slam of the bathroom door and then the sound of the closet opening and closing. A moment later and he was back, standing in the doorway between the living room and the bedroom.
"All right, where is he?"
For a long moment she just stood there staring at him. She wasn't frightened; it had been too sudden for that.
Wordlessly she moved and half fell into the big upholstered chair near the window. Quickly she shook her head, getting the sleep out of her mind. She started to open her mouth, to say something, and then suddenly stopped. Her eyes had gone quickly around the room and for the first time she saw that the folding bed hadn't been pulled out. Vince had not returned home from the late movie.
"Vincent Dunne," the man said. "He lives here, doesn't he, sister?"
Sue realized that her dressing gown had fallen open and that the top of her pajamas was unbuttoned. Instinctively she clutched the cloth of the robe close to her bosom.
"Say! Say, just who are you?" she said. Her voice was filled with indignation.
For the first time he looked at her as though she might be human. He didn't smile, but at least he looked a little less like a maniac.
"Sorry," he said. He put the gun in his side pocket and then reached into a second pocket and took out the nickel shield.
"Detective Wilson. Out of Headquarters," he said. "Sorry to bust in like this, Miss. But I'm looking for a punk named Vincent Dunne. Understand he lives here. That right?"
"Vincent Dunne is my brother and he lives here all right," Sue said. She was fully awake at last and the fear which had escaped her when the man first burst into the apartment was all too apparent at last. But the fear had nothing to do with the man who stood facing her.
"What is it?" she asked. "What has Vince done. Why are you here? What…"
"Take it easy, Miss," the detective said. "I don't know if he's done anything. I'm just anxious to see him. You say he lives here? Then where…"
In spite of herself, her eyes went helplessly around the room.
"Yes, he lives here," she said at last, her voice weak. She fought to keep the fear out of it, to keep her chin from quivering. "Please," she said. "Please? Is Vince in some sort of trouble? Has he…"
"I'm just trying to find him, that's all. Just want to talk to him. You say he lives here? Then how come…"
Sue stood up and unconsciously went toward the couch which made up into a bed.
"He's not here," she said. "He went out last night, to a movie, and he hasn't come back. Tell me…"
"Your brother hang around with a guy by the name of Dominic Petri?" Detective Wilson asked. "Kid about twenty-one, twenty-two. Goes by the name Dommie. Does your brother know him?"
Sue looked at the man for a moment and then slowly shook her head.
"I don't know who he knows," she said.
"Or a man named Jake Riddle?"
She couldn't help but start as he mentioned the name. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. All she could do was wonder and worry. Worry where Vince was, what he'd been doing. Why hadn't he come home? Where…
"I
Sue didn't scream. She did nothing, nothing at all but simply stand there, her mouth agape and her eyes wide and alarmed.
He moved fast, still saying nothing. The hand which was not holding the gun whipped out and found the light switch and the room was suddenly bathed in brilliance. It took him less than a second to see that there was no one in the room except the two of them and before Sue had a chance to find her voice, he passed on into the bedroom. She heard the slam of the bathroom door and then the sound of the closet opening and closing. A moment later and he was back, standing in the doorway between the living room and the bedroom.
"All right, where is he?"
For a long moment she just stood there staring at him. She wasn't frightened; it had been too sudden for that.
Wordlessly she moved and half fell into the big upholstered chair near the window. Quickly she shook her head, getting the sleep out of her mind. She started to open her mouth, to say something, and then suddenly stopped. Her eyes had gone quickly around the room and for the first time she saw that the folding bed hadn't been pulled out. Vince had not returned home from the late movie.
"Vincent Dunne," the man said. "He lives here, doesn't he, sister?"
Sue realized that her dressing gown had fallen open and that the top of her pajamas was unbuttoned. Instinctively she clutched the cloth of the robe close to her bosom.
"Say! Say, just who are you?" she said. Her voice was filled with indignation.
For the first time he looked at her as though she might be human. He didn't smile, but at least he looked a little less like a maniac.
"Sorry," he said. He put the gun in his side pocket and then reached into a second pocket and took out the nickel shield.
"Detective Wilson. Out of Headquarters," he said. "Sorry to bust in like this, Miss. But I'm looking for a punk named Vincent Dunne. Understand he lives here. That right?"
"Vincent Dunne is my brother and he lives here all right," Sue said. She was fully awake at last and the fear which had escaped her when the man first burst into the apartment was all too apparent at last. But the fear had nothing to do with the man who stood facing her.
"What is it?" she asked. "What has Vince done. Why are you here? What…"
"Take it easy, Miss," the detective said. "I don't know if he's done anything. I'm just anxious to see him. You say he lives here? Then where…"
In spite of herself, her eyes went helplessly around the room.
"Yes, he lives here," she said at last, her voice weak. She fought to keep the fear out of it, to keep her chin from quivering. "Please," she said. "Please? Is Vince in some sort of trouble? Has he…"
"I'm just trying to find him, that's all. Just want to talk to him. You say he lives here? Then how come…"
Sue stood up and unconsciously went toward the couch which made up into a bed.
"He's not here," she said. "He went out last night, to a movie, and he hasn't come back. Tell me…"
"Your brother hang around with a guy by the name of Dominic Petri?" Detective Wilson asked. "Kid about twenty-one, twenty-two. Goes by the name Dommie. Does your brother know him?"
Sue looked at the man for a moment and then slowly shook her head.
"I don't know who he knows," she said.
"Or a man named Jake Riddle?"
She couldn't help but start as he mentioned the name. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. All she could do was wonder and worry. Worry where Vince was, what he'd been doing. Why hadn't he come home? Where…
"I
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