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20
THE PARROT—
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Dodson threatened to change his will, which put MagiU
ligan in a cold sweat, for he had managed to work up
a well-arranged set of gambling debts. All this just
to get “Nertz” McGinne a job. —
That worthy gentleman of the rod pushed his
bulk through the mist that night until he came upon
old man Dodson’s villa on the outskirts of a distant
suburb. There was not a house within two blocks of
the place, and old Dodson’s life was that of a hermit..
But it didn’t take long after that. * 4 Nertz” blew
the smoke from his barrel, tucked away his instru
ment of death, and prei>ared for his departure for town,
where he would arrange an air-tight alibi, just in case.
As he started his car, which had been parked a block
down the road, he turned back and gazed at the house.
He could hear the old man’s parrot screaming with
the excitement. - Stupid things, parrots. Stupid man,
Dodson—not to suspect that something of this sort
would be afoot after what had happened. In fact, the
whole mess was so stupidly easy that “Nertz'* had en
joyed himself tremendously. He" rubbed his chip ten*
derly as he pressed the starter button. He had tripped
over a footstool and nearly broken his leg from the fall
On the slippery floor. Stupid thing to do. Even he,
himself, was acting kind of stupid tonight. Old man
Dodson lay in a pool of his own blood, back there in
the lighted room of the house.
“No sir, Dean, you’ll never put the bee on that
hoy,” predicted Inspector Dean’s assistant, Moxey.
“Dbn’ know, Moxey, don’ know.’* The Inspector
turned the footstool over with his toe. One leg was
broken from it. He gazed at the French windows Diat
led to the veranda. One of them was open. He looked
at the glass door-knob intently. > * f
“No fingerprints,** he announced. “Some smart
bebbe. Kind of clumsy, though. He, or she, knocked
the leg off this footstool when he, or she, tripped over
it. And yet the guy was darn dumb, at that. He could
have, potted the old geezer from the window there, but
no, he had to amble in and scare the old bloke nearlv
to insanity. And fell all over himself at the same time.
Now if he—*’ ^ *
But at this point an ungodly, piercing screech
stabbed them both to silence. Moxey flinched. The In
spector stood stiff, mouth r hung open. It was the par
rot. Again and again it screeched, sending unearthly,
shrill cHf s, repeating again and again.
“Stop that fool thing,’* cried Moxey, making for
the bird. **
“Leave him alone!** thejnspector ordered. The bird
went on screaming his repetition of nerve-jangling
screechings. Moxey, considerably Upset, dug his nails
into the heels of his hands. The Inspector listened to
the bird as a music lover would hear his favorite sym-
THE BATTALION
V, I • ^
phony. At length he put the cover orver the cage.
“The old man’s nearest heir, I guess. That Magil-
ligan woman.’’
“Anybody notified her about her uncle’s death
yet?” ■! ' {g
“Nope. They’re waiting *til morning to do it.
Figure the shock’ll come easier on a good breakfast.*’
So the Inspector moved to the telephone and call
ed her up at the unusual hour of three in the morning.
1 When he got her on the wire, he asked her, “Do you
know much about the parrot your uncle keeps?*’
Evidently the reply was in the affirmative, for he
continued, “Now there’s nothing to get worried about.
I just would like to find out about him. I’m a parrot
fancier, and thought I’d inquire about the chances of
getting him. Sure is a fine bird—Sure, at this time of
the morning. Hope you won’t mind too much—How A
does the parrot talk?—Poor pronunciation, eh?—Not^
distinct—Otherwise a wonderful bird. Sure. Where’d
your uncle get him?—Malay, huh?—Talks only the
best language and knows part of. Hamlet’s soliloquy!
Why that’s extraordinary!—Taught by an English prof
at Columbia. -Guess his language must be pretty
choice. That’s fine. I hate those swearing parrots. 1
once had a cook who kept one and it broke me of the
habit of swearing, it sounded so bad—Eats only when
fed by Mr. Dodson. That’s too bad. Wonder if I could
feed him—Not much chance, eh? That’s too bad. Sure
would like to own him. Mavbe I will somedav. Good
bye.’* TU
• •••**
t
“You’re crazy, Dean, to pick up a guy on absolute
ly no evidence. If the D. A. hears of this, he’ll give you
the works. Y’ou can’t get away with it. It’s rank in-
I justice.*’ p
“Nertz’*s mouthpiece.was pleading away, storming
sometimes and imploring others. To no avail. Dean
showed him to the door and offered to throw him
through it.
“I think you’re pulling a bone,’’ stated Moxey. . {
“The mouthpiece’s right. When “Nertz’’ is sprung, hell
raise a stink. Besides, what in the devil could he pos
sibly have to do with it? He’s just a little two-by-four
cheap racket mug. He couldn’t kill a man if he wanted
to.- f 'i n> < •
The boys were coming out of the dark room now.
hauling the limp form of “Nertz” between them. In
the right hand of Saul, the chief ragger, was a signed
confession of the killing, and the signature was
“Nertz”s. Moxey gawped in confusion, and turned a
pair of unbelieving eyes on the Inspector.
“You strong-armed him,” he accused. ^He couldn't^
have done it. Not him.’ ,, -
“My boy,” said Dean, “the things that happen
moat in this game are the things that just couldn’t
happen. You’re finding that out.”
“But—but he’s got an airtight alibi.”
“Fixing an alibi in this town is like shining your
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