Free Felony File by Dell Shannon Page B

desperate. "George, I know Mother
wants to fix the place up, and paint and so on costs money. It's
just, can't we sort of squeeze out enough to build a darkroom in the
garage like I had? Because—"
    Higgins began to laugh. Photography had always been
Steve's first love, and evidently adolescence wasn't interfering with
it yet. "We'll do it," he promised. "We'll fix one,
Steve—running water, safety lights and all. Because one of these
days you're going to be an LAPD lab man, you've got to keep your hand
in."
    A blinding grin rewarded
him. "I just wanted to know," said Steve.
    * * *
    Glasser and Wanda had landed at the Eagle Grill just
after it opened. Leon Fratelli was behind the bar. It wasn't a very
fancy place, but it looked reasonably clean. There were only two
customers in at that hour. He said to Glasser's question, "Yeah,
there were some guys come and said we hadda get out—an order of
some kind. Why the hell, I said, we got a dictatorship, tell people
where to go, get out, don't come back? Listen, I don't guess Rosie's
the best housekeeper in the world, but it was damn cheap rent and
what's it matter to anybody?"
    " All we want to know is," said Glasser,
"where have you moved? With Rosie? There are—um—some A.D.C.
papers for her to sign."
    "Oh. The money for the kids. That's good,"
said Fratelli. "Well, hell, rents most anywhere sky high, it's
terrible. We ain't found a place. Acourse, it's easier not havin' the
kids, I got to say that. Right now we got a room in a hotel on
Temple, the Arcade. It's four bucks a night, we got to find some
place else."
    " Y0u know," said Wanda, outside in the
Gremlin, "what puzzles me, why does he stick to Rosie? He's not
any prize himself, Henry, but she's a lot farther down."
    " I don't think," said Glasser, "he'll
stick to her much longer. She's getting past picking up the johns and
rendering even token service."
    "Those children," said Wanda. "My
God."
    " Yeah. Very unlikely that whoever fathered them
was much better than Rosie. It says somewhere, man He made a little
lower than the angels," said Glasser.
    He went out helping on the legwork on the heists
later, and it was five-twenty when he landed back at the office.
Wanda was there, nobody else.
    The autopsy report on Alice Engel had just come up.
As expected, she'd been beaten, raped and strangled. Pubic hairs from
the body had been sent to the lab. There was also a lab report which
had come in earlier. Numerous latent prints had been lifted in the
house. Five identifiable prints belonging to Leon Fratelli (record
appended) from headboard of bed, chest in bedroom, chairs in living
room; numerous prints belonging to Rose Engel (record appended) from
both bedrooms, kitchen. The lab said the pubic hair belonged to a
male Caucasian; if a specimen was obtained from any suspect, it could
be matched for comparison.
    " So what do you think?" asked Glasser. "You
bucking for detective."
    " Just what you're thinking, Henry," said
Wanda. "The whole dirty thing is obvious."
    " Yes," said Glasser. "Just for fun,
let's see if the boss thinks we can get a warrant."
    But it was five to six, and Mendoza had gone home a
little early.
 
    FOUR
    WHEN MENDOZA CAME IN on Tuesday morning there was a
manila envelope from the coroner's office on his desk with the night
report. He slit it open: the autopsy report on David Whalen. There
wasn't much in it: the weapon had been a long narrow knife with a
serrated edge, and no special skill had been exhibited; he had been
stabbed four times, and two of the blows would have been fatal alone.
    He glanced at the night report; a nice quiet night
for Matt and Bob, only a hit-run out on Alvarado. He heard Hackett
and Higgins coming in, and took the autopsy report out to the hall
with him.
    " Damn it, Art, it's a Murder One charge. Even
Fletcher can't hand him much less than— Morning, Luis, what've you
got?" Higgins took the report without interest.
    " I'll take no bets," said Hackett glumly,
and Scarne came