Stonehenge Archeology by Freeman

By Freeman

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Sample text

I could hear Jackson bellowing for somebody to look for Debbie's picture. In a moment he was back on the line, firing questions. "Yeah, Howdy. Two kids, about two and four. Apparently she was making a phone call when her assailant broke into the house. Kitchen phone off the hook. I was with Raglan when he got the call. " I hung up and looked at the mess in the living room. Van Drimmelen's hi-fi was still grooving on the record. I walked around the kitchen partition and lifted the needle off, being careful not to disturb any fingerprints that might he on the pickup arm.

This is the work of some young high school punk. " Raglan asked. "This ransom note. It's like comic-book lettering. An experienced criminal would have clipped words out of newspapers and pasted them together. " Raglan shook his head. " "It's an interesting theory," Raglan admitted. " "I can have it on the streets by nine o'clock tonight," I offered. "That's too late, Shaffer. I promised you an exclusive; I want you to release me from that promise. This story has got to be on the noon news over every television and radio station in the area.

You have a point," I agreed. " Joe Raglan didn't want to talk to me. I had the feeling, when I hung up, I'd be lucky not to be picked up on suspicion of spitting on the sidewalk. I spent an hour at the typewriter, making notes. Then I picked up my briefcase, my hat and my check, and went out to find out why. There had to be a reason behind it, more valid than the theory Pritch had advanced. I probably knew Joe Raglan as well as anyone else in the city did. And the Joe Raglan I knew was incapable of panic.

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