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    The Bird Master
    The Bird Master
    The Bird Master
    Ebook41 pages36 minutes

    The Bird Master

    By Edwin Balmer and William MacHarg

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Twitterings and squawks that presage looting and death hand a cuckoo of a murder case to astounded Police Detective Mickie O’Day!

    excerpt
    When Captain Jim Doran phoned me to come to his office in the Detective Bureau down at Headquarters I had a hunch he didn’t want to discuss the rainy weather.

    “I’ve got a job for you, Mickie,” he said in his deep, rumbling bass, when I entered. “Sit down and listen.”

    I sat down cautiously, as a man will when he is six-foot-two and weighs a hundred and ninety. Sometimes furniture had a way of unexpectedly collapsing with me and it always offended my dignity as a first-grade detective.

    “Go ahead, Cappy,” I said. “I’m all ears.”

    “I know you are-you’ve got the best hearing of any man in the Police Department,” he said. “That’s why I want you to work on this case.” He frowned. “And don’t call me Cappy.”

    I just grinned. I owed him a lot and we both knew it. Ten years ago I had been working in a steel mill and an accident had left me totally deaf. Doran had learned that I was anxious to join the police and had dug up a good surgeon who picked the pieces of steel out of my skull and made me hear again.

    I made the grade in the examinations and finally worked my way up to first-grade detective. I was so glad to be able to hear that I’d trained myself to really listen, and I was good at it.

    “It’s a strange case,” mused Doran. “I’d have thought Swenson was nuts, if it hadn’t been for Brackton, and even with him I’d have put it down to coincidence if it hadn’t been for Marshall.”

    “And we’d have ham and eggs if we had some ham and we had some eggs,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

    “Crimes and twittering birds,” said Doran. “Three of them.”

    The more he talked the crazier he sounded. I let him keep on talking, hoping it would begin to make sense.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXinXii
    Release dateOct 20, 2015
    ISBN9781612104065
    The Bird Master

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      Book preview

      The Bird Master - Edwin Balmer and William MacHarg

      The Bird Master

      By Arthur J Burks

      Copyright © 1944 by Arthur J. Burks

      This edition published in 2011 by eStar Books, LLC.

      www.estarbooks.com

      ISBN 9781612104065

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      The publishers at eStar Books are proud to provide this quality title for your reading pleasure. At eStar Books, we specialize in the unique and unusual. To find more titles in the genres you love most, including sci-fi, fantasy and speculative fiction, visit us at www.estarbooks.com.

      Twitterings and squawks that presage looting and death hand a cuckoo of a murder case to astounded Police Detective Mickie O’Day!

      The Bird Master

      By Arthur J Burks

      Chapter I

      THE BIRDIES SING

      When Captain Jim Doran phoned me to come to his office in the Detective Bureau down at Headquarters I had a hunch he didn’t want to discuss the rainy weather.

      I’ve got a job for you, Mickie, he said in his deep, rumbling bass, when I entered. Sit down and listen.

      I sat down cautiously, as a man will when he is six-foot-two and weighs a hundred and ninety. Sometimes furniture had a way of unexpectedly collapsing with me and it always offended my dignity as a first-grade detective.

      Go ahead, Cappy, I said. I’m all ears.

      I know you are—you’ve got the best hearing of any man in the Police Department, he said. That’s why I want you to work on this case. He frowned. And don’t call me Cappy.

      I just grinned. I owed him a lot and we both knew it. Ten years ago I had been working in a steel mill and an accident had left me totally deaf. Doran had learned that I was anxious to join the police and had dug up a good surgeon who picked the pieces of steel out of my skull and made me hear again.

      I made the grade in the examinations and finally worked my way up to first-grade detective. I was so glad to be able to hear that I’d trained myself to really listen, and I was good at it.

      It’s a strange case, mused Doran. I’d have thought Swenson was nuts, if it hadn’t been for Brackton, and even with him I’d have put it down to coincidence if it hadn’t been for Marshall.

      And we’d have ham and eggs if we had some ham and we had some eggs, I said. What are you talking about?

      Crimes and twittering birds, said Doran. Three of them.

      The more he talked the crazier he sounded. I let him keep on talking, hoping it would begin to make sense.

      "Two weeks ago a private house was broken into on Riverside

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