Sharing Winnipeg s
Norse-Jace Gandit

M
By
PHILIP H. GODSELL

F.R.G.S.

Author of “Romance of the Alaska
Highway”, etc. etc.

HM

A Vigil in the Night—Murder—and an Extensive Manhunt That Will Keep

Our Readers Guessing.

O THE EARS of Constable John Mce-
onald and Norman Stewart, of Winnipeg's
lice force, the sepulchral silence of the
serted Radio Building on dimly lighted
srt Street seemed only to be intensified by
e occas‘onal crunching footfall of a pass
pedestrian in the
now, the muted
onking of automobile
orns and the clang
trolley cars on tree-
ned Broadway.

It was the frosty
ight of Saturday,
ebruary 10th, 1940,
nd McDonald’s gaze
wung to the ebony
ulk of the Fort Garry
lotel, a block to the
vest, where sleek lim-
usines and taxis were
lready disgorging Detective Harry Alex-
ay, carefree loads of ander took a leading

upper dance devotees. part in tracking Mike

Since that mysteri- the Horse to his lair.

us telephone warning had reached Chief
f Police George Smith the previous week—
warning that the Radio Building was be-
ig cased—they had kept their nocturnal
igil, realizing that any moment might find
hem face to face with armed and desper-
te bandits.

“Watch your step,” Detective Sergeant
ete Cafferty had warned gruffly when he
ft them an hour before. “One of these
afe-cracking gangs may be on the prowl
gain. May figure the Manitoba Motor
eague’s place’ll make good pickings. They
arry a tidy sum in the vault over the
veek-end.”

Only one suspicious circumstance had
ewarded a week of watchful waiting. In
he cold, dismal, early hours of Thursday
norning a dark-coloured 1939 Ford coach
vith a rod aerial had circled the block a
1umber of times and driven off before they
‘ould get the number on the mud-smeared
icense plate. :

“Looks as if it’s going to be a flop,” Mc
Donald growled impatiently.

“Sst!” came Stewart's sibilant warning.
‘Watch for that car going’ south, Mac.
Second time it’s passed here now.”

For a few moments McDonald’s tall, ath-

THIRTEENTH EDITION

letic form remained silhouetted against the
window as he watched the car roll past the
snow-covered lot, turn into Broadway and
disappear in the swift-moving stream of
Saturday night trafic. “The 1939 coach
with the aerial again!” There was a trace
of excitement in his voice. “Guess we'd
better keep our eyes peeled.” He glanced
at h‘s wrist-watch. lv was exactly nine
o'clock.

Half an hour passed. Suddenly, from the
direction of the washroom in the rear, two
sharp blows reverberated through the silent
building. Frozen into immobility, they
heard the jarring screech of a window keing
pried up with a jimmy, followed by cat-
like footfalls moving cautiously nearer in
the corridor. Shielded from any sudden ex-
ploratory ray of light by the walls of Sec-
retary A. C. Emmett’s private office they
sensed rather than heard the stealthy move-
ments of the intruder—movements which
indicated familiarity with the place.

CATCH SIGHT OF INTRUDERS

McDonald felt the nudge of Stewart's
elbow. Through a spyhole he saw the spec-
tral figure pass slowly through the silvery
bars of moonlight that streamed through a
side window. For a moment the man stood,
listening, then, without a sound, melted into
the surrounding blackness. The ghostly in-
truder made his way through the building;
then the creak of the washroom door and a
faint crunch of snow in the lane told that
he had left.

“Gone to fetch his pals,” came Stewart's
curt comment.

Again the suspense became intolerable.
As they crouched there in the darkness,
their tense ears magnified the slightest
sound. Crash! An object struck the ground
beneath the darkened window. Stewart
emitted a throaty laugh. A falling icicle
from the roof above! Twice, mysterious
sounds convinced them that someone was
moving within the building, only to be dis-
missed as the result of over-taut nerves.

Of one thing both were assured. The
caution of the lookout man and his famili-
arity with the interior indicated that they
were dealing with experienced criminals

Copyright by Philip H. Godsell, 1945. All rights reserved.
All photographs coprighted by Philip H. Godsell.

who wouldn’t hesitate to blast their way to
freedom if cornered and given half a chance.
Through McDonald’s mind flashed his
wife’s warning words that evening; her in-
tuitive fear of trouble, at which he had
laughed with the nonchalance of his twenty-
six years. oF

Suddenly he realized they were alone no
longer. The death-like stillness was broken
by the faint creak of woodwork, the me-
tallic clank of tools, a muffled curse and a
muttered warning. The sounds came from
the General Office, diagonally across the
hallway from their hiding place. Subcon-
sciously McDonald felt his companion tense
beside him. His fingers clutched the friendly
butt of his automatic.

“Wait!” came his cautious whisper.
“Let’s give them a chance to get started.
We'll jump them when they're busy.”

They strained their ears to identify the
muffled sounds. From the far corner of the
office vibrated at last the purring growl of
an electric drill. The crooks were working
on the safe now!

McDonald touched Stewart’s arm. “Let's
go get them,” he whispered Fingering the

The Radio Building, scene of one of Winnipeg’s
most startling murders.

trigger of his heavy .45, he swung the door
no’selessly open on its oiled hinges.

Slowly, cautiously, they moved foot by
foot to cover the two doorways ahead. Mc-
Donald’s hand was upraised to grasp the
ceiling cord and flood the office with light
when his blood chilled suddenly. The ex-
plosive crack of a frost-heave, echoing like
a gunshot through the building, had caused
a sudden commotion among the bandits,

Page Sixty-nine