10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14—————_——_———_ Rodney’s face. He said, “You sure the customer who ordered the soup didn’t snitch it?” “He scarcely had time, but he might have,” the detective said. “Mother didn’t have any business giving it to you in the first place.” Pell was piffed like a little kid. | “She thought differently,” Slawter gaid. “Do you happen to know the fellow who ordered the soup.” ; He nodded. “Mr. Romine said it was Charley Reeball.” “Mr. Romine also said that Reeball had been dead for four years.” Tommy Slawter’s next words were a guess, also maybe a kind of inspiration. “Jake told me he’d smashed this Reeball fellow with a car four years ago and left him for dead. I guess that’s why a guy who looked like Reeball turning up at the eafé kind of knocked him screwy. He’s been a hit-and-runner, hiding from the law, and—” Betty suddenly clutched his arm. “The driver will hear,” she whispered. He then knew his guess had hit the bull’s-eye. : “Let him,” Slawter said. “There’s just one thing going, you two either loosen up and give with a little info’, or I tell the police about Jake confessing to a hit-and-run killing.” They were silent a minute, looking at each other. Betty was suddenly palliating. “It was such a dark night, and raining. Daddy didn’t see the man until it was too late. He should have reported the— the accident, Brooding over it has nearly driven him crazy.” She kept looking at Rodney after that, evidently leaving it up to him whether or not they’d make a spill of it. Pell squirmed, said, “He might spoil everything if we tell him.” Betty said, a catch in her voice, ‘“‘TI’ll leave it up to you, Rodney.” “We'll have to go where we can talk,” he said. ‘Anyway, we’re almost to where we hired this cab to take us.” “And where was that?” Slawter asked. “To your office,” said Pell. “You wanted to see me?” Betty came in on that. “While we’re at it let’s all be honor bright about everything. One reason why I told you Treckess wanted you for murder was to get you out of your office, so we could search it for Rodney’s letter. When we 10-STORY DETECTIVE saw you just now, we decided to pick you up, if possible, to keep you from talking to Mrs. Pell.” Slawter grinned, said, “Dumb.” “Dumb or not,” rejoined Rodney, “‘we’d decided not to overlook any possibility.” “We can go to Useman’s Yellow Bottle Café. There’s a neat place for a quiet con- fab,” Slawter said, bringing into play some more of the information he’d got from the suicide-bent cab driver. Rodney stiffened, his nicely shaped mouth doing the old fear-sag. “No, not Useman’s,” said Betty. She clutched Rodney’s arm. “He’s stringing us, Betty,” Rodney said. “He already knows everything we can tel] him.” “If your mother gave me a letter I never read it,” the detective said. “Honor bright.” “We'll go to the Empress Lunch,” said Betty shakily. She redirected the cab, and that’s where they went. CHAPTER IV mommy followed Betty and Rodney back to a rear booth. They ordered coffee; then began unloading some of the queerest stuff he’d ever heard ladled off the human tongue. “A few days ago,” Rodney began, “I was working for Sam Ownmond at the Comet Park rink as a skating instructor. ‘It was after I fell and hurt my ankle that my troubles began.” He paused, toyed with his cup a moment. “Before I tell you what you seem to want to know, I’d like to know why you are interested in the death at the café. It strikes me you just might be a hireling of Ownmond’s.” Slawter told him he was nobody’s hireling, that he was interested in the -café killing for several reasons, not the least of which was the fact that a hipped taxi driver had come nearly killing him less than an hour ago. He said, “That scrape, I think, stemmed from the café murder. The poor cabby killed himself.” He added that it was enough to in- terest a fellow when certain parties were out to get his scalp. That news brought their mouths open and popped their eyes in astonishment. Betty said, “Who was the taxi driver?” “Did he have a slim face and droopy eyes?” Rodney wanted to know. comichook CO Af