Black Mask (Vol. 33, No. 3 — September 1949)

Gripping Regg’s gentle little hand, he brushed aside the expressions of gratitude and steered the little man back into his secretary’s custody. Closing the connecting door firmly, he went back to his interphone.

“Listen, Hyam. Blossom Regg is on the prowl right now. If she’s really crazy about Lennox she’s probably trying as hard as we are to pick up a little information as to where she might find him. Anyway let’s play that lead for all it’s worth. Spot her, but let her keep on the move and watch her on the chance that she might lead us to Lennox.”

“Okay.”

“Put Brown on the job of checking the dame’s husband, Timothy. Let’s get a good picture of what he’s been up to lately.”

“Check.”

“Don’t slip up on any of this,” Dango cautioned him. “Especially keep a sharp eye on the woman on the chance that something might suddenly happen to her.”

He disconnected scowling at himself. The task of flushing Lennox out of cover was proving to be tough enough, but now, on top of it, he had this shiny-eyed little man named Regg to stew about. It wasn’t so easy to dismiss Regg as a crackpot. There was a certain quality of sincerity in the guy that carried a sense of conviction. Already Captain Dango had begun to feel that unless he took quick and careful measures against it, something terrific and fatal would happen to Blossom Regg tonight.

Chapter Two Little Black Book

About 7:45 p.m. a woman who might have been Blossom Regg was seen entering the Old Keg Tap Room, a medium-class dive just outside the downtown section of the city. The observation was made by Sergeant Miller, one of the many plainclothes men who were scattered at strategic points under orders from Lieutenant Hyam.

Sergeant Miller immediately and quietly entered the saloon after this woman. He found the place crowded with sixty or eighty customers. As he gazed at them in the murky light an expression of bafflement spread over his face. Three minutes thereafter he was enclosed in a phone booth in a rear corner and making a report direct to Captain Dango.

“Look, Captain, I respectfully submit we gotta get a better description,” he complained. “There’s entirely too many big, bleached blondes on the loose tonight. In this joint right now there’s exactly eight of ’em, and every one looks so much like Blossom Regg’s supposed to look that I wouldn’t know which to pick. I can’t step up and ask each one what’s her name and is she the dame I’m supposed to be tailing, can I? And if they start scattering, Captain, how’n hell’m I gonna tail all eight at once? See what I mean, Captain?”

Dango, disconnecting, could see very well what Miller meant. He was wondering what to do about it when his phone rang again. This time it was Sergeant Brown, whom Lieutenant Hyam had put to investigating Timothy Regg.

“One thing I found out about him, Captain — aside from the fact that he’s a quiet, well-behaved, hard-working citizen — is that last week he bought a couple sticks of dynamite.”

“Dynamite?” Dango muttered. “What for?”

“I can’t answer that one, captain. In this state people can buy dynamite over a hardware store counter without a license and without explaining what for. However, they do have to have a permit to store it. I checked this and found out Timothy Regg duly got such a permit to keep two sticks of dynamite on the premises at 413 Beetle Street for not longer than thirty days. So he’s legal on both counts.”

“And just what the hell am I supposed to do about the fact that he’s a law-abiding man?”

“Sorry, Captain. Call you back when I’ve got something important.”

While mulling this over in his mind Dango received another call, this one from Hyam.

“The tie-up is getting stronger, Danny. I mean I’m picking up more and more info to show that Blossom Regg really is the babe that Lennox was seeing the most of lately. The usual thing on his part, they say, but plenty serious on hers. No doubt of it, we’re getting somewhere by playing your hunch. More info later.”

Dango winced at that word hunch. Thoughts of Timothy Regg kept nagging his troubled mind when he should be thinking about Lennox, who was remaining persistently and completely missing. Feeling feverish, Dango began pacing his office. Presently the door opened and Sergeant Kerson stepped in, also looking worried.

“That little guy is getting under my skin,” he complained. “I can’t get rid of him. He just keeps sitting there. Sometimes he mutters to himself. A minute ago I heard him saying, ‘I do hope and pray she’ll never, never touch my little black book.’ Then when I asked him how’s that again, he apologized and went on fidgeting.”

Looking out into his waiting room, Dango found that Timothy Regg, seated there, was looking even sadder than before. His doomful convictions seemed to be growing on him. Regg rose with an apologetic air and came to the connecting doorway with a reminder.