mee QUICK FIX

By J. WELLSFORD MILLS

A Couple of Drug Addicts Plus a Supply of Narcotics Plus a Loaded .45 Colt Automatic—That Was the Combination That Confronted Sergeant George ~ Clark of the British Columbia Police—But Some Fast Work Got Everything

“WAS A bitterly cold morning in late arch, 1943, as Sergt. Geo. H. Clark, non- mmissioned officer in charge of the Fort sorge Subdivision of the British Columbia lice, closed the front door of his Prince sorge residence, ready to face the day’s oblems. As he pulled on his gloves he st a quick glance at the ominous low- ng clouds that foretold more snow. His oughts on the weather, however, were terrupted by the whirring noise of the use phone. It was a call from his down- wn headquarters to tell him that Hood’s rug Store had been broken into during the ght and the druggist’s supply of narcotics saned out. “Til call in and take a look 1 my way over,” replied the Sergeant, nging up the receiver.

A few minutes later he was listening to e druggist’s story, and looking at an open awer that had contained drugs. Nearby y a chisel used to force it open. A careful arch for fingerprints drew a blank, but ere was no doubt that entrance had been ade via the front door. The door had two cks, one of the ordinary variety set in e door and above it a Yale lock attached the back of the door. The old-fashioned ck had been worked with a skeleton key en the door had been pried with a heavy r forcing off the Yale lock which now y on the floor. On making an exit, the ief (or thieves) had locked the door hind them and when one of the night lice officers had tried the door, all was parently well at Hood’s Drug Store. “There’s something else missing, Ser- ant,” said the proprietor as the veteran lice offcer committed a few of the more partes details to the pages of his note- ok.

“What's that?” asked Sergt. Clark, busy ith his writing.

“A .45 calibre automatic with a clip load shells,” was the quiet answer.

Returning to his office the Sergeant was eeted with a fresh piece of news. Dr. vans, a local physician, just returned from ten-day absence, reported that his office d been entered by a pass key and a supply drugs stolen from a locked desk.

The robberies were clearly the work of

HIRTEENTH EDITION

Back in Place Again.

drug addicts and the fact that they possessed a loaded automatic did not add to Sergt. Clark’s peace of mind.

Marshalling his forces in answer to the challenge, the routine of checking hotels and rooming houses was quickly undertaken by a number of police officers.

Later in the day came the first break; one of the officers reported that the proprietor

Sergt. G. H. Clark —Photo by Corp. J. C. Sweeney.

of a night cafe had noticed a woman cus- tomer the night before make a trip to the washroom, and come out just a little more vivacious in manner. The cafe owner thought she might have been a drug addict who had gone in for a quick ““fix”—the ad- dict’s term for a reviving shot. The woman was supposed to be staying with a certain Bud Allard at the Royal Hotel, one of the lower-priced stopping places. In no time at all Sergt. Clark was at the Royal Hotel interviewing Allard, who was alone in his room.

“Sure, I know the dame,” said Allard in reply to the police officer’s questioning. “Goes by the name of Wells—she’s at the Columbia, room 28.”

In a matter of minutes Sergt. Clark and Const. J. C. Sweeney were knocking at the door of room 28 in the Columbia Hotel. A blowsy looking blonde opened the door, viewed her visitors from head to foot and ejaculated: “Bulls, huh?”

Wire Gives HuspAND AWAY

When the police officers told her they were investigating a theft of drugs she cut them short with the exclamation, “I told him he’d get into trouble if he pulled any- thing around here!” Questioned further she admitted that her husband, from whom she was separated, was in Prince George working as a bull cook at the airport—6 miles out of town. He had a friend with him and the trio had come from Winnipeg. She denied having seen her husband but added, “If he hasn’t already gone, he'll blow soon if he pulled that job.” She said her husband went by the name of Wilfred Shiron.

Advising Mrs. Shiron not to leave town, the two police officers returned to their car and were soon speeding toward the air- port. At the construction office they learned that Wilfred Shiron was working in the kitchen. Instead of immediately interview- ing him, the two officers made for the bunk house and searched through the suspect’s belongings, mattress and blankets. A 16- year-old boy, sweeping out the bunk-house, viewed the proceedings with some interest and volunteered the information that Shiron had a pal who occupied the next bunk.

“These fellows are sure funny,” said the boy as he watched the police officers explor- ing the mattress and blankets, “always scared of catching something.”

“What makes you think that?” said Sergt. Clark as he turned his attention to a suitcase lying under the bunk.

“Oh, I dunno,” said the flunkey, “they’re always pushing some medicine into their arm with a syringe. They say it prevents them catching “flu.”

Sergt. Clark’s suspicions were confirmed.

Page Forty-seven