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The Darkest Hour 1

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28

DARKEST BY-WILLIAM R ^fx:(;i:VEHN


HoyR
COPYRIGHT I 9 5 S BY WILLIAM P. « C GIVERM

Retnick could have had love or money^ but he chose vengeance—


vengeance on the men who'd framed him for a waterfront murder
BEGINNING A NEW THREEPART SERIAL

S
-
TEVE RETNICK'S release from Sing Sing
caused only a brief and seemingly casual stir
of interest in the file room of the Thirty-first
Detective Squad. Three men were present when
man; he was called Hammy, and before showing up
on the waterfront he had made his living as a spar-
ring partner, a punching bag for fighters who had
some brains as well as bulk. Retnick wasn't inter-
night. He never got home. I've talked to his wife.
She says he was in a good mood when he left
for work."
"Why should he up and disappear?" Moran said.
Sergeant Miles Kleyburg, after a glance at his ested in him, so he turned and walked slowly to The big man in the camel's-hair coat rapped on
desk calendar, said, "Today's the day. You think the bar. the bar. "What do I have to do for a drink?"
he'll come back here?" Tim Moran looked up from a glass he was pol- Moran smiled quickly. "What'll it be?"
Lieutenant Neville stood in the doorway of his ishing and a surprised smile spread slowly over his "Whisky all round," Hammy said, staring at
private office packing a short black pipe. "You're small red face. "Steve! Welcome back, boy. You've Retnick. "Give your friend one too. He looks
talking about Steve," he said, and walked to the not changed at all." like he could use it."
wide, dirt-streaked windows that overlooked the This was almost true; the five years in jail hadn't
river. Lighting his pipe, he stared without enthusi-
asm at the cold, gray view. Gulls stood out brightly
against the swollen, soot-dark river.
marked him physically. The planes of his dark face
were sharp and hard. There was no gray in his
close-cut black hair, and his body was tough and
W HEN the drink was set before him, Retnick
studied it for a moment. The room was silent,
and then Retnick finally lifted the glass and nodded
"I don't know about Steve," Lieutenant Neville flexible. But there were changes. . . . to Hammy. "Thanks," he said, and the curious
went on. "He'll want to know about Ragoni. I "Five years older," Retnick said, pushing his hat little interval of tension dissolved. Hammy began
hope—" Shrugging, he said, "He'll do what he a bit higher on his forehead. talking to the dock workers again, and Moran
wants." Moran looked into his eyes then and saw the leaned closer to Retnick.
"I'll be glad to see him," Kleyburg said. change in the man. He said uneasily, "Well, let's "Watch yourself with Hammy, Steve," he said.
Neville glanced at him. "I will too," he said, and celebrate, Steve. What'll it be?" "He's mean."
went back to his office. "Nothing," Retnick said. "I'm looking for "Who's he working for?"
The third man in the room, a detective named Frank Ragoni." "Nick Amato."
Connors, stretched and got to his feet. He was a "Steve, I haven't seen him for a week.'" "I picked up that drink too fast," Retnick said.
tall young man with even features and wavy blond "Have you heard any talk about where he "Is Amato still riding high?"
hair. Except for excellent clothes, there was noth- might be?" "The men in his local stick behind him."
ing distinctive about his appearance. "I'm going "Not a word. I'd like to help. I know you were "Do they have a choice?"
out for a few minutes," he said cas\ially. good friends, but . . ." He shrugged. Moran began to polish the shining surface of the
Sergeant Kleyburg, a heavily built man with "A week ago, Ragoni finished his shift at mid- bar. "I sell beer, Steve. To anybody who wants it.
thin white hair and horn-rimmed glasses, nodded night," Retnick said. "He was working at Pier I don't take sides in union politics. You know
briefly. There was no expression at all on his Five, in the hold of a North Star Lines ship that how it is." {Continued on page 41)
tired, solid face.
Connors went downstairs and crossed the mean
slum street to a small candy store. He walked back
to the telephone booth and dialed a number. When
a voice answered, he said, "Mr. Amato? I just ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK McCARTHY
thought I'd remind you. Steve Retnick is out to-
day." Listening then, he smiled faintly. "Sure,"
he said, "I'll find him. I'll take care of it."
Outside, a cold wind swept down the cross-tovra
block. Connors turned up his collar and hurried
toward the station.
But Steve Retnick didn't return that day or the
next. And along the waterfront and in certain
police stations there were men who waited un-
easily for him.

I T WAS eight fifteen the following night when


Retnick walked into Tim Moran's saloon on
Twelfth Avenue. He stopped just inside the door,
a tall, wide-shouldered man who wore a cheap suit
and a felt hat. His face was expressionless as he
glanced around, but his eyes were cold and sharp
under the brim of his hat.
The place wasn't crowded at that hour. Two
dock workers sat at the end of the bar, red-faced
men in caps and bulky jackets, and standing be-
tween them a huge fat man whose round, childish
face was slightly flushed with liquor. He wore an
expensive camel's-hair coat. Retnick knew the big

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"I didn't want a divorce,"
Marcia said. "I wanted to
wait for you." Retnick said
evenly, "And did you wait?

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30

IKE'S
^^ta^Qmeff By ALFRED M. LANSING

His favorite dry fly is au obscure design called a


and Lot. He never walks downstream, or alonf> tin : ' * * * % •

Lore? Ike has plentv of it—and he makes it work


"• . :m^-*
-••J''

I T IS 1,710 miles from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave-


nue in Washington, D.C., to a certain log cabin
just outside the little town of Fraser, Colorado.
That's a long distance. Yet tacked to the door of
Aksel ("In all my life, nobody ever called me Mr.
Nielsen") will be right there with him.
Occasionally, the President will travel the quar-
ter-of-a-mile distance to the creek on foot, but more
the Colorado cabin is a sign which has a direct often he'll climb into the ranch jeep and drive over.
bearing (particularly in the spring of the year) on Such an act would seem to be simple enough—but
the occupant of the Washington address, who is not when you're the President of the United States.
Dwight D. Eisenhower. The sign reads: The Secret Service men must go into immediate
"Warning! Fishing Fever. Caution—Conta- action. Usually there are 12 agents assigned to the
gious—Dangerous. Symptoms: Extended spring ranch (although under special circumstances there
fever; patient lapses into long periods of blank ex- may be 32 or more), and they live at a nearby lum-
pression. Becomes allergic to work. Spends most ber camp and work in three shifts—four men on
time looking at maps, fishing-tackle catalogs and duty at a time, very inconspicuously. When Ike
checking tackle box." drives to the creek, however, they have to scurry.
Make no mistake. Fishing Fever, the ailment Somehow, they manage to keep one step ahead of
that strikes down 43,000,000 Americans every him; they're always at the creek before he is.
spring, doesn't bypass the White House by any Even with waders, stepping into that cold stream
means. And while the President can't afford to is a shocker. Aksel, who owns the ranch jointly
suffer a real attack (nobody can be "allergic to with Carl A. Norgren, a Denver oiling equipment
work" in the White House) he still gets twinges. inventor and manufacturer, claims it's one of the
When that happens, it's a pretty good bet he's coldest creeks in Colorado. About three miles of
dreaming about that little log cabin with the quar- the stream are within the borders of the ranch's
antine sign on it, which he has visited the last three 3,800 acres.
summers. The creek has an average depth of only about
The cabin is on the Byers Peak Ranch, which is six inches, which makes it ideal for small or me-
Ike's favorite fishing spot. Here the holder of Colo- dium trout—say seven to 12 inches, Ike's favorite
rado's nonresident fishing license No. 1 can find size. Last year, the sportsmen's dubs of Colorado,
the kind of angling he likes best—dry-fly fishing for as a gesture of good will toward the President, had
scrappy, medium-sized trout. Here, in relative se- the stream stocked with fish. They thought they
clusion, he has as much chance as he ever gets to be were doing Ike a special favor by dumping in nice,
just another citizen engaging in his favorite sport. big 15-inch native rainbows. But the fish were too
And here he is in the company of his old fishing big for the stream; they just lay on the bottom, dis-
buddy. Aksel Nielsen, a round-faced, irrepressible, appointingly inactive. Ike had to use all his an-
fifty-four-year-old mortgage banker (10 years gling talents to get them to respond to a fly.
younger than the President) who introduced Ike to Even under ordinary circumstances, it's not easy
dry-fly fishing back in the thirties. to hook into a creelful in St. Louis Creek. In the
Ike's day at the camp usually starts at 6:00 A.M. years Ike and Aksel have fished there, they have
After breakfast the President may decide to work rarely taken the legal limit of 10 fish in one day.
on one of his paintings for a while; or he may fid- The President is no tyro angler. He knows what
dle around the kitchen preparing some special dish; he's doing. One indication is the way he sizes up
or he may dig out his .22-caliber pistol, and shoot a the elements on his way to the creek: the time of
few rounds of target practice at a bull's-eye at- day, the brightness of the sky, the speed and direc-
tached to a nearby stump. tion of the wind, anything that might affect the
But there's also an excellent chance he'll look fishing. Once the icy stream is swirling around his
out the kitchen window and decide that little St. ankles, the President studies the water, making a
Louis Creek, bubbling down from the snowy
heights of Byers Peak, is just too inviting to resist.
If so, the President will go over to the closet, pull President Eisenhower during a fishing trip in
on his hip boots, gather up the rest of his equipment Colorado. When the fish are biting well, he
and head for the stream. Nine times out of ten. has been known to lose all track of the time

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