"Daniels, Norman A - Paid To Die - Avenger 4003 backstory" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daniels Norman A)

When fighting crooks, it's a privilege to be


PAID TO DIE
by Norman A. Daniels


Sergeant O'Hara of the jewelry squad was an invisible part of the shadows of a darkened doorway
across the street from the Clayton Diamond Co. Early autumn evenings gave him the chance to hide in
darkness while the store was still open for business.

O'Hara had been a cop for fifteen years, but he was as slender and supple as a freshman on a
college scrub team. He glanced at his wrist watch. It was time for Detective Hal King to report.
King came, two minutes later, and casually stepped into the deep doorway.

"Everything quiet?" he asked.

"So far," O'Hara grunted. "But these crooks don't strike until just before closing time. Every
member of the squad is watching some jewelry store or other. With seven stick-ups in two weeks, and
no clues, it's about all we can do. You eat yet?"

King shook his head. "I'm going down to Nick's. Be back in fifteen minutes, sarge."

O'Hara nodded and watched King hurry down the street. Nice kid--O'Hara enjoyed training him.
Then O'Hara's right hand darted toward his hip pocket and closed around the butt of his service
pistol. A car had slowed up as it passed the jewelry store. Someone was casing the joint. The car
kept on going, took the next corner and reappeared, three minutes later. As it slid to a stop in
front of the store, O'Hara tensed for the dash that would take him into fast action. He watched the
men sprint across the sidewalk and vanish into the store. Each man wore a bandage around his head so
that his entire face was covered. The gang that had robbed seven other jewelry stores in the
neighborhood always wore these masks.

O'Hara crossed the street, slipped up behind the car, suddenly yanked the door open and used the
butt of his gun to dispatch this driver. He had to slug him twice before the crook passed out, but
as he slumped forward his chest hit the horn button and the siren began a devil's din.

O'Hara raced around the car. Two men were emerging from the jewelry store--men with their faces
swathed in bandages. Each held a gun! O'Hara's weapon crashed down and one of the men went down on
his knees, clawing at his shoulder. The other darted back into the store and tried to close the
door. O'Hara hit it before the bolt could be rammed home. He knocked the bandit aside, took a swipe
at him with his gun and drove him back. Near the big safe, it's doors still wide open, lay a
clerk--shot through the head. On the floor, two men were struggling while a third maneuvered, trying
to get in a shot. O'Hara recognized one of the fighters. It was Paul Clayton--the owner of the
store.

The third bandit looked up, saw O'Hara coming and tried to stop him with a slug. It fanned
O'Hara's ear, but he estimated that he was traveling almost as fast as the bullet. He struck the
third bandit, bowled him over and drew back his fist to administer a knockout blow. Somewhere in his
reeling mind, he wondered what had become of Detective King.