Death Points A Finger Part 21

Matthews slid his lanky length between Professor Brierly and the uniformed men. He interrupted their spokesman:

"What's this about, what do you want Professor Brierly for?"

The other looked at him insolently.

"I said, we want Professor Brierly, young feller."

"Yes, I heard that; I asked what you want him for."

"Well, if you want to know, he's under arrest."

"I'm still curious to know all about it," quietly said Matthews.

"What's he under arrest for?"

"Listen, young feller, we was ordered to bring him in, see? And we're gonna bring him in. Now we don't want no trouble. If he comes along with us quiet like--"

Matthews' body had by this time edged the tiny form of Professor Brierly several feet away. Matthew's large form was now squarely between that of the little scientist and the two policemen. Jack interrupted:

"You don't want trouble, do you? Well, I do. I want trouble. I'm just aching and pining for trouble. If you don't want trouble you know how to avoid it. Go 'way and don't bother us--"

The other policeman was circling the pair. Jimmy interrupted at this point. Jimmy was talking in a soft low drawl. Those who knew Jimmy Hale knew that he was never as dangerous--to others--as when he spoke that way.

"Officer, this can be settled easily. You've got a warrant, of course. My friend," jerking his head toward Matthews, "is a little hot-headed. If you just show us the warrant, there won't be any trouble."

Another man in uniform had been approaching the group from a car that was parked in the road near the edge of the field. As he came nearer, he called out:

"Oh, what the h.e.l.l's all this palaver about. Let's take him." He lunged for Professor Brierly, his hand outstretched.

Matthews got into motion at the same time. The third policeman did not quite reach Professor Brierly. A hard, bony fist struck him about two inches above the belt buckle. He folded up, emitting a hoa.r.s.e grunt, his bulging eyes mirroring acute pain. The mate to the first fist whipped up in a short vicious arc. The man's head snapped backward. His knees wilted; he fell to the ground slowly as a tree falls; he lay there quietly.

The two other policemen had moved forward. Jimmy moved toward them. Jimmy was never quite good enough to make the varsity team in his four years at college. But he had tried for four years and he had always been on the squad. His coach had, what amounted to a phobia, in the matter of blocking. Thus Jimmy, if he learned nothing else, had learned how to block. His coach had said repeatedly that no man can become a football player unless he learn to block. He had blocked and tackled big, fast, bruising varsity players for four years. And this was a time when the flying block and the flying tackle were not barred. Jimmy had also been taught that "clipping," blocking from the rear, was dangerous to the blockee and was severely penalized.

Jimmy took a few mincing steps. His compact one hundred and fifty-eight pounds left the ground and turned sideways. Jimmy's right hip struck one of the blue coats right back of the knees at the joints. The man uttered a howl of anguish. There was a nasty snap.

The man had a bad fracture that would keep him limping for the rest of his life. In falling, the man's hands flailed wildly. One of these hands struck Jimmy squarely in the eye. Jimmy got up quickly, his normally mild brown eyes blazing. He was just in time to see the finish.

The third man had reached for a gun. A long iron arm reached out, a large hand seized the hand with the weapon. Two men nearly of equal height stood facing another. The eyes of one reflected surprise, anger and disappointment. The eyes of the other were now the color of cloudy ice. They were blazing with cold ferocity. The one thing needed to drive Matthews into a murderous rage had happened: an a.s.sault on Professor Brierly. In addition to the vast respect and veneration Matthews had for the old man he had a tenderness for him such as a man has for his mother. His scientific a.s.sociates would have had difficulty recognizing the budding young scientist who showed so much promise under Professor Brierly's tutelage. The pressure of the fingers increased. The fingers of the blue coated individual opened and the weapon dropped.

Matthews made a sudden movement. He released one hand but held on to the other. He was now behind the blue coated back. He had the other's arm bent across the back; he was pus.h.i.+ng it up. He had the dangerous hammer-lock, a hold barred in amateur wrestling.

The other panted chokingly:

"Let go, d.a.m.n you!"

There was no answer. The pressure increased. There was a sudden tightening of the already taxed muscles. There was a dull snap; the blue coated figure fell writhing to the ground.

The pilot, amazed at what was going on before him, had left the plane. He stood wide-eyed and white-faced at what he saw. Matthews stood there panting. A thin grin, the ghost of his usual grin wrinkled his taut features.

"Don't worry," he said, "they're not policemen."

Professor Brierly had stood by, hands clenched, eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

They had started toward the hangar from which a man was running toward them, Matthews said, banteringly:

"What do you think of the relative value of physical as against mental culture now, Professor. Know what these birds were after, don't you?"

Professor Brierly said resolutely:

"I have not changed my mind at all. I might have discussed it with them. I might have--"

"Yeah," broke in Jimmy inelegantly. "As I once heard Jack say to you, you might have slugged 'em with your culture and logic."

The old scientist glared. He burst out: "You are both--"

"Yes, Professor," interrupted Matthews, "Jimmy certainly is, all that and then some. And Professor, did you have a good look at Jimmy's left eye. Me, oh my, what a mouse. WHAT a s.h.i.+ner." The three fell silent. Matthew's hand fell on Jimmy's shoulder as they approached the hangar.

"I knew you were a good little man, Jimmy; I always said so. Your coach would have been proud of you if he could have seen it. You earned your letter, Jimmy." The hand increased its pressure on the shoulder, dropped, and there was no further allusion to the episode.

Jimmy went into the hangar and put in two quick telephone calls, one to his office, where the dog watch was on duty, and one to Police Headquarters in New York City. To each he told the episode of the pseudo policemen. New York police headquarters promised that they would get in touch immediately with the State police and with the Pleasantville police. His office also promised immediate action. He learned later that when the police arrived there was no sign of their a.s.sailants. But other and more pressing matters engaged the attention of Professor Brierly and the reporter; matters that drove the fight out of their minds.

A short drive took them to what had once been the home of William Flynn. They were at once admitted inside the police lines. McCall, from Canada, and Hite, from New York, had paved the way for them.

The explosion had not been as severe as Jimmy had been led to believe. Two of the lower rooms remained nearly intact and some portions of the foundation. State, county and city police were there, in uniform and in plain clothes. Even at this hour a huge crowd had gathered. Newspaper representatives from all the New York papers from nearby towns and from news-gathering bureaus, were there.

Two state troopers and one member of the Pleasantville police force had been on guard outside the house when the explosion occurred. The house was at the end of a quiet residential street.

Beyond the house there was a patch of wooded ground which cut off the view from a state road running to Tarrytown, about a hundred yards deep. The house nearest to the one that had been wrecked by the explosion was two hundred yards distant.

One of the state troopers who had been on guard outside the house was present when the three men arrived. His testimony was brief.

They had come to the house about seven-thirty, daylight saving time, the night before. There were in the party seven persons, the chauffeur of the car that had taken them from the station, William Flynn, three state troopers, one Federal secret service man and a policeman from Pleasantville, who had taken the place of the New York policeman when their train arrived at the local station. The car they had taken was not a taxi, but a large public limousine, such as are used in many small towns. It held the entire party.

Mr. Flynn, a state trooper and the Federal man went into the house; the others stayed outside. About three minutes after the three men had entered the house the explosion occurred.

Professor Brierly asked the trooper:

"Where was the driver of the taxi, when this happened?"

"He was right here with us, sir. He stayed a while, talking about the murders of Mr. Flynn's friends. He seemed to know all about it."

"You say it was about three minutes after they went into the house?"

"It could not have been more than five minutes at most."

"Did you notice anybody on this street when you came, or before the explosion?"

"No, sir. We made a search afterward. You see the next five houses are closed for the summer. That means that the nearest house where there was anybody at the time is not less than three hundred yards away. There wasn't a soul on this street. After the explosion, of course, there was a mob. You'd wonder where all the people came from in such a small town Sunday evening."

"And the three men in the house were killed outright?"

"Yes, sir."