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    Pop-off Rookie by Leo Hoban


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      Masked Detective, December, 1941

      Pop-off Rookie

      by Leo Hoban

      O’Rourke Knew Bert Miles Would Always Blow Up Under Pressure—but He Didn’t Expect Him to Explode in a Killer’s Face!

      “I T’S too bad Bert Miles is such a pop- until his heavy paunch protruded like an off,” Captain Wallace said. He oversized barrel. “I had real faith in him when leaned far back in his swivel chair,

      he joined the force. Now within two month’s

      Masked Detective

      2

      he’s on the probationary list.”

      often faced death side by side. They

      “And practically begging to be understood each other.

      blackballed into dismissal,” Sergeant

      “You’re a hard-bitten man,

      O’Rourke added through teeth that were biting O’Rourke,” Captain Wallace said. “And you hard on an acrid-smelling black cigar. “I always do make it tough on rookies—almost couldn’t do anything with him last night in the as tough as I do, till they prove themselves.

      cruiser car. I criticized every move he made, But you’re square and not too dumb. You can sneered at him, trying to prove whether he can have the pop-off for ten more days. And I take it. We gotta know whether he can take it, hope, for my sake, that you’re not making a whether he’s got the nerve. A cop without mistake. Remember, I don’t tolerate

      nerve is no man to have around when an

      mistakes.”

      emergency arises.”

      Sergeant O’Rourke rose, saluted.

      “What did he do?” Captain Wallace’s

      “Thank you, Captain. I promise that in

      shaggy eyebrows rolled up and he leaned ten days I’ll find out if he can take it.”

      forward anxiously. He pushed deserving men

      “That you will, I hope,” Captain

      as far as possible, but he had no use for those Wallace said, extending his hand.

      who couldn’t help him build the finest police

      “Good luck, O’Rourke. Maybe you’re

      force in the world.

      right. Maybe Bert Miles has what it takes to

      “He blew up, turned that lashing make a good cop. But don’t let up on him.

      tongue of his on me. He deserted the cruiser to Keep riding him into blowing up. We can’t get himself a pack of cigarettes, while I was in use pop-offs here.”

      a restaurant, eating. That’s how we happened Walking down the police corridor that

      to miss the radio flash on that jewelry store was heavy with disinfectant, Sergeant

      stick-up. There was nobody in the cruiser to O’Rourke felt a tremor of doubt. He’d placed catch the call.”

      himself on record that Bert Miles would

      “Who ate first?”

      produce, yet inwardly he believed Bert Miles

      “He did, while I sat watch. He was just

      was bent on making his record as black as was sore. I guess I’d been riding him too hard.”

      humanly possible.

      Wallace leaned back again, his face

      hard and cold.

      BERT MILES sat behind the wheel of the

      “Well, you won’t have to anymore.

      cruiser in the police garage. He had the motor I’m sticking his notice on the bulletin board.

      turning idly. Two frowning creases cut deeply Bert Miles is through.”

      into his forehead and his sharp jaw jutted

      “Not yet, Captain,” O’Rourke pleaded

      belligerently. Off-guard now, his eyes were quickly. “You said you had faith in him once.

      not keen, simply hurt. His broad shoulders I’ve been riding with him every night for two were hunched like a man waiting for the

      months. I ain’t sure yet that he wouldn’t know sweep of the guillotine.

      how to meet an emergency. Something is

      He knew why Sergeant O’Rourke was

      bothering him, making him nervous and late in reporting. He was in with his side-kick, irritable, causing him to pop off. But I’ve got a Captain Wallace. Bert Miles knew his fate had hunch that he’ll turn out okay. Let me have been sealed and he was scared. He needed this him for just ten more days.”

      job. Not only was his self-respect at stake, but Captain Wallace’s eyes, resting his mother and sister were dependent on him.

      musingly on O’Rourke, lost some of their

      Silently he cursed the fate that had

      coldness. They had been rookies together, had paired him with O’Rourke. Indomitable,

      Pop-off Rookie

      3

      unbending, an acid-tongued martinet,

      “Now if you’ll close that big mouth of

      O’Rourke had hammered at him for two solid yours,” the sergeant said in a voice flinty as months. Seething fury had mounted in Miles steel, “I’ll tell you a hunch I have. Between until every nerve in his body was frazzled-Forty-third and Forty-sixth, on Third, there’s a edged, begging for action that never came. He man named Carson. The Department thinks

      was being driven so frantic that now he he’s a jewelry fence. His office is wherever doubted his ability to get out of a jam when he’s standing at the curb. Give that district a under pressure.

      play, swinging back to it as often as possible.

      He’d tried to shrug off the flood of

      Maybe we’ll get a break that will give you the pressure that O’Rourke’s tongue had ignited chance to regain part of your face in the within him, and failed. He’d taken to popping Department. Understand, rookie?”

      off, being smart alecky in unconscious

      “Yes, sir,” Miles replied suddenly

      defense. And with every wisecrack he’d meek.

      uttered, he’d known shame.

      He’d tried being meek on other

      The door on the far side was flung

      occasions, but O’Rourke’s savage comments open and scowling Sergeant O’Rourke sagged had always changed that meekness into vitriol.

      into the front seat. As usual, his face was It was on their fourth swing through

      expressionless and the gray hairs at his the district, with fitful gusts of rain bringing a temples seemed to bristle.

      midnight chill, when O’Rourke’s stubby right Miles hated him as he never had hand gave a sudden jerk toward a dark believed he could hate any man. He eat quiet, doorway.

      waiting for O’Rourke to spring the bad news.

      “That’s Carson talking to some mug!

      “Well, numbskull, is our beat in this

      Pull this hack up. I’m going back to look ’em garage?” the sergeant growled. “Or maybe

      over.”

      you feel safe in here, off the streets where Miles braked the cruiser, his heart

      jewel thieves rob stores while kid cops buy suddenly racing.

      snipes in the cigar store.”

      “Don’t go back alone,” he advised.

      His voice was low, yet in it was the

      “We’ll both go.”

      crackling fury of a whip. Miles flushed,

      O’Rourke’s eyes grew ominous.

      clasped gears and plummeted the sedan

      “I’m in charge here. You obey orders.

      recklessly up the incline.

      Stay here and cover me—if you’ve got the

      “Your partners before must have been

      nerve.”

      rosy-checked Boy Scouts who didn’t smoke,”

      Miles tensed and he sat stiffly upright,

      he snarled. “Just meek little yes-men who took both hands clenched tightly around the

      a lot of loose lip so you’d make nice reports steering wheel. His knuckles were white,


      on them. What an ornery old buzzard you

      frantically battling to keep a fist from

      are!”

      heedlessly slashing out at O’Rourke’s smug face. He heard O’Rourke open the door and EVEN as he said it, Miles cursed himself for a step to the curb. Only then did he trust himself fool. But ever since he could remember, he’d to look in his partner’s direction.

      talked too much, bitterly resenting any O’Rourke’s hard

      heels slapped against

      criticism he thought unwarranted.

      the wet sidewalk, sounding ponderous and

      O’Rourke’s face didn’t change, his official in the quiet. Suddenly a shot was ear-head didn’t turn, but Miles saw the corded splitting in the stillness, banging up and muscles along his jaw go taut.

      echoing back against the high walls of the

      Masked Detective

      4

      office buildings.

      curses. O’Rourke remained grimly quiet.

      Miles dragged his unwilling long legs

      When they returned to the man on the

      across the gear shift. He grabbed hold of the sidewalk, four nondescript night owls were jamb of the open door, propelled himself onto crowded in a sadistic circle. O’Rourke pushed the sidewalk. But he fell flat, his legs trailing fiercely between them.

      from the sedan.

      The hood’s fedora had rolled into the

      His heart pounded furiously and he felt

      gutter. The blue hole in his forehead bubbled a growing paralysis of fear. Never in his blood upward against the raindrops. Miles youthful imaginings of police work—when he unexpectedly felt weak and sick at the sight.

      had naturally fought grimly and courageously When the morgue wagon came,

      and victoriously—had he expected a reaction O’Rourke explained: “I shot him. His pal got like this in his first taste of action.

      away. It looked like Georgie Bernadino. They He saw O’Rourke down on one knee,

      cut down on me before I had a chance to

      his police positive thundering and lancing question them. Miles was backing me up from yellow-red flame. Plate glass tinkled around the cruiser. I’d told him to stay there. We’ll the doorway and three shots boomed a quick make a full report in the morning, but right answer to O’Rourke’s fusillade. O’Rourke now we’re going out to look for Berandino.

      pitched flat against the sidewalk.

      Have a radio want put on him.’”

      Miles tried to scramble upright, but his

      Cruising again, O’Rourke rode for

      legs were ungovernable things, as loose and three blocks in penetrating silence before weak as wet spaghetti. He kept jerking at the saying in an impassive voice: “You kicked it, gun in his holster, despair growing with each kid. You might have stopped the mug if you’d leap of panic. He suddenly realized with a been on your toes. You didn’t get the gat out shock that in his fury against O’Rourke he had until the mug was away on a safe lam.

      failed to loosen the safety strap.

      Scared?”

      Miles’ lips twisted bitterly. What could

      THE men sprang from the protection of the he say? By a queer paradox, he hadn’t been doorway. O’Rourke’s gun blasted again and scared for himself, but the suddenness of the one man went down. The other found attack had left him frightened. He had known protection behind a parked car and, bending a fear that any ordinary mortal might

      low in the protecting darkness, he ran across experience when guns boomed and bullets

      the street.

      droned ominously in his first conflict.

      Shaking, Miles got to his feet and

      O’Rourke seemed to understand. His

      began running after the vague form of the face was not so grim, his voice almost affable.

      fugitive. As he passed O’Rourke, he finally

      “Maybe you’d better not answer.”

      succeeded in wrenching his positive clear Miles’ shame pyramided into galling

      from the holster. It seemed incredible that he agony. O’Rourke chatted amiably of

      should reach the corner so swiftly .... and inconsequential matters, being strangely

      more incredible that he should find himself friendly and by his very politeness piling coals totally alone.

      upon Miles’ humiliation.

      The fugitive had disappeared.

      Suddenly Miles understood. O’Rourke

      O’Rourke came panting up, his mouth

      was being kind, almost pitying, telling him a twisted white line of fury.

      without saying so that he was through. He They searched the block, avoiding hadn’t made the grade.

      each other’s eyes. Miles kept muttering

      Pop-off Rookie

      5

      WONDERING grimly what O’Rourke “What you been through happens to every expected of him, he felt his arm muscles tense rookie. We wanted to see if you’d blowup, or in an overwhelming desire to fight.

      if you could control your nerves.”

      “Berandino hangs out around Fifty-

      “And I can’t, huh?”

      fourth,” O’Rourke said. “Maybe we can pick

      “You can’t. You blow under pressure.

      him up. . . . You know, my wife’s gonna have I’m sorry. Think something will happen that a birthday in two weeks. I can’t figure out will make me change my mind?”

      what to give her. What would you suggest, Miles kept silent. He knew that in the

      bud?”

      few hours preceding dawn, it was illogical to It was idle talk, the kind two pals of

      suppose that anything would transpire that long standing might make to waste away long, would change his condemned fate. Perhaps

      drab hours on a monotonous shift. Miles’ O’Rourke was right. He was just a pop-off mouth felt dry and furry.

      who shouldn’t ever have been outfitted in an

      “I wouldn’t know, sir. I never had a

      officer’s uniform.

      wife.”

      O’Rourke was piloting the cruiser in

      “You should get one bud. You need

      his heavy-handed, cumbersome way. After

      one.”

      walking a beat for so many years, he would Miles’ right foot pressed down always feel out of his element in the luxurious viciously on the brake pedal. His right hand efficiency of an automobile. He drove like an came off the gear shift as the cruiser skidded.

      old woman who was afraid of frightening a When that hand came away from the gear

      team of horses.

      shift, it was a balled fist that was shaking He cut the corner leading away from

      furiously under O’Rourke’s nose.

      the docks, had to yank viciously left on the

      “You sanctimonious old clown, you

      wheel to avoid the onrushing red sedan. But drove me haywire for two months! Naturally I one quick glance at the occupants of the sedan fumbled a trick I wasn’t expecting. I couldn’t had been sufficient for O’Rourke. He slid even think straight about those rats in the from under the wheel, was out of the cruiser, doorway, because I was hating you so much.

      yelling:

      And now you want to rub it in, be polite, tell

      “Take over and drive! Berandino was

      me that you’re a better man than I am. in that sedan!”

      Sergeant, you’re nuts! You couldn’t carry my shoelaces, let alone by weight. Now, Mr. MILES behind the wheel, gunned the motor O’Rourke, how would you like to go to and made the tires scream in a sharp U-turn.

      blazes?”

      O’Rourke grabbed the handle of the other

      “I’ll drive, instead,” O’Rourke said door as the machine completed its quick turn.

      calmly. “I gotta be sure that things are done He stood on the running-board, drawing his right in my cruiser. And never forget, bud, I’m automatic.

      in charge. I give the orders here.”

      The sedan’s tail-ligh
    t was a bobbing

      “Sure,” Miles said venomously. “You

      speck, heading into the warehouse district.

      give orders. I just sit still and take all the Miles took the cruiser’s speedometer

      abuse you can dish out. Not any more, though.

      heedlessly into the stratosphere until the tail-Another crack out of you and I’ll paste your light blinked out. He cursed. Perhaps the lights mouth shut!”

      had been extinguished. Maybe it had made a

      “I want to explain something,” turn into the maze of streets that lay O’Rourke said gently, almost resignedly. ominously somnolent between the gaunt

      Masked Detective

      6

      procession of soot-smeared warehouses.

      or else.”

      His chance—and he’d muffed it again.

      “It’s or else, then. The rule book says

      O’Rourke’s fist pounded against the

      to take as many precautions as possible. Why glass pane. Miles lowered the cruiser’s get yourself killed?”

      window.

      O’Rourke glared, turned on his heel

      “Try Fourteenth Street!” O’Rourke and made for the old office door. Miles began bellowed.

      “Johnny Bernadino used to to run in the other direction. His breath was have a still years ago in an old abandoned coming in agonizing gasps as he plowed

      warehouse down near Walnut. It’d make a

      through refuse in the areaway to the rear of the perfect hideaway.”

      building. He knew the location of the air shaft For the first time in months, Miles’

      entrance that would bring him inside from the heart leaped gladly. He knew that district, second floor, but there was insufficient time to knew it only as a wild kid knew a district that use the shaft.

     


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