can see that he knows them," Wilson said. "You want to help your brother, you best come clean. Tell me…"
"I've heard those names," Sue said. "That's all, just heard the names. Vince may have known them, but they weren't friends of his. I'm sure of that. They weren't friends of his. Vince is just a kid. He's a good boy; he doesn't hang out with riffraff. He…"
"He's fresh out of reform school and on parole. He's a punk. If you don't know it, you should. Now, come on, tell me…"
This time, when the bell suddenly rang and interrupted his words, Sue didn't have to think to know what it was. There was no doubt about it. It was the phone which stood on the end table next to her and the shrill sound of the ring cut his voice short.
For a second both their eyes went to the instrument and then the detective quickly looked back at her. She could see that he wanted her to answer it and as she leaned over to take the receiver from the hook, he quickly crossed the room, leaning close so that he might overhear the voice at the other end.
"Yes?" Her voice was a bare whisper.
The voice which came through the wires was even lower than her own. A deep, soft, masculine voice.
"Vince there?"
She hesitated a moment and looked up at the detective who stared at her without expression.
"Who's calling?" she asked.
"I want to speak to Vince Dunne. It's important."
"Who is this?" Sue said. "This is Vincent's sister. Who's calling him, please?"
Quickly the detective leaned over and took the telephone from her and put the receiver to his ear. He listened for a second or two and then spoke in a high, disguised voice.
"Vince talking," he said.
He waited a moment or two and then spoke again. "This is Vince," he said. "Who's this?"
There was a sharp sound of a click at the other end of the wire and in a moment Wilson hung up the receiver in disgust.
He turned once more to the girl.
"Better get your clothes on," he said. "There's a man down at Headquarters wants to talk to you. Detective Lieutenant Hopper-of Homicide."
Sue slowly nodded and stood up. She looked sick.
"I suppose I can go inside and get dressed?" she said.
Detective Wilson nodded.
"Sure, kid," he said. "Go right ahead. And don't take it so hard. Maybe nothing happened at all. Maybe your brother wasn't mixed up in anything and just stayed out over night."
He watched her as she crossed the room and entered the bedroom.
Yeah, maybe. But he didn't believe it. Didn't believe it at all.
And neither did Sue Dunne believe it.
***
The house, sitting well back on the half-acre plot, was in one of the older sections of town. It was surrounded by large shade trees and a high privet hedge protected it from the street in front and the neighbors on each side and the rear. It was one of the first split-level houses built, having been constructed to fit the natural slope of the land rather than conform to a popular building fashion. As a result, the three levels conformed with the landscaping naturally, allowing the garage level and basement to follow the contours of the driveway, which came in on the right side as one entered the grounds.
A flagstone walk led from a break in the hedge to the front door, which opened onto the second floor.
Originally the house had been designed for a doctor who planned to practice out of his home. Entering a central hallway, a visitor was confronted by a wide arch, which had been curtained off, and doors on each side. The door to the left led downstairs into the garage and basement; the door on the right led into the main residential part of the house, which consisted of half the second floor and all of the third. The archway itself led into what had originally been planned as the doctor's offices.
When the
"I've heard those names," Sue said. "That's all, just heard the names. Vince may have known them, but they weren't friends of his. I'm sure of that. They weren't friends of his. Vince is just a kid. He's a good boy; he doesn't hang out with riffraff. He…"
"He's fresh out of reform school and on parole. He's a punk. If you don't know it, you should. Now, come on, tell me…"
This time, when the bell suddenly rang and interrupted his words, Sue didn't have to think to know what it was. There was no doubt about it. It was the phone which stood on the end table next to her and the shrill sound of the ring cut his voice short.
For a second both their eyes went to the instrument and then the detective quickly looked back at her. She could see that he wanted her to answer it and as she leaned over to take the receiver from the hook, he quickly crossed the room, leaning close so that he might overhear the voice at the other end.
"Yes?" Her voice was a bare whisper.
The voice which came through the wires was even lower than her own. A deep, soft, masculine voice.
"Vince there?"
She hesitated a moment and looked up at the detective who stared at her without expression.
"Who's calling?" she asked.
"I want to speak to Vince Dunne. It's important."
"Who is this?" Sue said. "This is Vincent's sister. Who's calling him, please?"
Quickly the detective leaned over and took the telephone from her and put the receiver to his ear. He listened for a second or two and then spoke in a high, disguised voice.
"Vince talking," he said.
He waited a moment or two and then spoke again. "This is Vince," he said. "Who's this?"
There was a sharp sound of a click at the other end of the wire and in a moment Wilson hung up the receiver in disgust.
He turned once more to the girl.
"Better get your clothes on," he said. "There's a man down at Headquarters wants to talk to you. Detective Lieutenant Hopper-of Homicide."
Sue slowly nodded and stood up. She looked sick.
"I suppose I can go inside and get dressed?" she said.
Detective Wilson nodded.
"Sure, kid," he said. "Go right ahead. And don't take it so hard. Maybe nothing happened at all. Maybe your brother wasn't mixed up in anything and just stayed out over night."
He watched her as she crossed the room and entered the bedroom.
Yeah, maybe. But he didn't believe it. Didn't believe it at all.
And neither did Sue Dunne believe it.
***
The house, sitting well back on the half-acre plot, was in one of the older sections of town. It was surrounded by large shade trees and a high privet hedge protected it from the street in front and the neighbors on each side and the rear. It was one of the first split-level houses built, having been constructed to fit the natural slope of the land rather than conform to a popular building fashion. As a result, the three levels conformed with the landscaping naturally, allowing the garage level and basement to follow the contours of the driveway, which came in on the right side as one entered the grounds.
A flagstone walk led from a break in the hedge to the front door, which opened onto the second floor.
Originally the house had been designed for a doctor who planned to practice out of his home. Entering a central hallway, a visitor was confronted by a wide arch, which had been curtained off, and doors on each side. The door to the left led downstairs into the garage and basement; the door on the right led into the main residential part of the house, which consisted of half the second floor and all of the third. The archway itself led into what had originally been planned as the doctor's offices.
When the
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