Joe floor-boarded the gas pedal, but still the other car was gaining. DEAD to RIGHTS By TOM WARDLE Joe hear dthe sharp whistle and pulled over to the curb. "Taxi?" he asked. Before he could reach around and open the door, it was yanked wide, and in crowded a tall, shapely blonde and a short, swarthy man with a red carnation in his lapel. "Where to?" Joe inquired. "Thirteenth and Main, Jason Building," the man said. He loosened his necktie and unbuttoned his collar. "Hurry it up! There's a fin in it for you if you make it by 6:30." He looked hastily at his watch. "Yes, sir." And Joe pushed a little harder on the accelerator. The cab shot in and out of traffic like a marble in a pinball machine. It was getting dark. He switched on his lights. "This is a hell of a life," Joe thought to himself. "Driving a hack. Anybody can drive a hack and work for peanuts. Sure, I've put a couple hundred in the bank. So what? Where's all those things I was dreaming about when I spent those months in a foxhole? Where's all those high-paying jobs? Where's that home and wife and kids I was thinking about . . .?" His thoughts changed. . . . "What about that sexy bru-net over at Stacey's Lunch? No, she won't even give me a tumble. But maybe she's right. What have I got to offer? Her tastes are too rich for my blood. Maybe if I had a lot of money . . . that necklace . . . the Gainsley necklace . . . the one that all the papers and magazines were showing the pictures of lately. It's supposed to have been shipped here by some guy from Holland for a private showing for all the fancy jewelers right here in town. If I had something like that, I'd be set up for life." Joe stopped his day-dreaming. "But what's the use of kidding myself? I haven't got a thing." The green light at 56th Street was changing. Joe tried to make it, but it was too late. His foot slipped up to the brake pedal and pushed. He glanced up at the rear-view mirror automatically to see if any cars were following too close. In the corner of the mirror he saw the blonde slide something out of her handbag to the man. He hastily put it inside his coat. The light was green again. The cab jerked ahead. Eight Three minutes and two blocks later the man in the back seat said gruffly, "Go through that one-way!" "But that. . ." "Do what I say!" The cab swerved sharply, the tires howled their protest, and the hack shot down the dimly lighted street. An instant later there was a glare of light in Joe's eyes. His glance sought the mirror. A pair of headlights was following him. "Friends of yours?" Joe commented. "I wish they was," the man said nervously. "See what you c'n do to shake 'em, huh? I'll change that fin to a ten-spot." Joe's eyes lit up like a Ronson. "But what about the Jason Building?" "Forget it! Just lose that car." "Awright, Mac, you're the doc." Joe cramped the wheel and rounded the corner on two tires, plowing through a stop sign in the process. A minute later they were in the darker, unlighted section of town, but still those two glaring eyes followed. Here they were the only two cars on the road. "Now what?" said Joe. "I don't go past the outskirts of town. This thing has gone far enough." "You'll have to lose them," insisted the man. "Look, Mac, I ain't losin' my job for a lousy ten bucks." "Then I'll raise it to a 'C' note." "Look, Mac, you got the wrong boy." Joe was getting irritated. "Then would you lose it for your life?" There was an icy overtone in the man's voice. "What d'ya mean?" "Just that this thirty-eight might go off accidental while it's still pointed at the back of your head. Now, then, are you going to try a little harder? You should know the customer is always right!" "Okay," said Joe. "Only point that cannon at somebody else." "All right, but you know what happens if you try to be a comedian." The taxi swerved and raced along a narrow road leading out of town. The other car still followed, only now it was gaining. "Faster," shouted the little man. Even the blonde, who had been silent until now, began to fidget with a handkerchief. As they sped around a low hill, Joe doused his lights and spun the wheel. The tires screeched, breaking the silence of the night. The car swerved crazily and crashed through a wire fence, then skidded out into some kind of field. It jolted to a halt when the right front wheel came to rest in a small ditch. Pains shot like tiny arrows through Joe's neck, but he was still conscious. He sat there for a moment, dazed. Then slowly he turned around. What he saw made him sick. The man's head had been driven through the back door glass. The head hung limp on the outside of the window. The girl was on the floor partially underneath her companion, but she was still alive. Joe could hear a faint groan coming from her. The gun lay on the seat. Joe picked up the pistol, shoved it into his pocket, then went around and pulled the girl up onto the seat. Her eyes flicked open. Then, as she realized what had happened, they suddenly widened in terror. She looked at the grotesque sight beside her, turned her head, then threw a glance at Joe. "Dead, isn't he?" Her voice was shaky. "Yeah," said Joe. He didn't know what else to say. "That car, the one that was following us, where is it?" she asked. "I guess we lost it. Funny, isn't it? Your pal here said it might cost me my life." "Yeah, that's hysterical," she announced. "You don't seem to be too broken up about it," said Joe. "Should I be?" "I dunno. What was he to you? Husband? Boy friend?" "Business associate only!" she said without expression. Joe rested his arm on the door, "What kind of business?" "Just business," she said. "You think 'just business'. And I suppose those friends in the other car were just more business associates?" "Well, in a way." "We'll see," said Joe as he flipped on the dome light and reached towards the coat of the dead man. "No, don't touch him!" she screamed. Then, realizing her mistake, said, "I mean . . . well, h-how can you stand to touch him all messed up like that?" "I'll shut my eyes," he said as he again reached for the coat. Suddenly the girl was between Joe and the corpse. She was scratching and hitting like a wildcat, her face all screwed up and twisted in hate as well as fear. Joe grabbed her long blonde hair and one arm and dragged her from the car. He gave her a quick uppercut to the jaw, and she sprawled to the ground and lay still. The little box in the dead man's pocket revealed nothing less than the Gainsley diamond necklace! He couldn't believe his eyes. It was a fabulous piece of jewelry. Joe remembered it from the pictures he had seen. It could not be anything but the Gainsley necklace. None other looked even similar. (Turn to Page 22) Nine