10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

STARS DIE AT DAWN————_ 27 if at the same time. “Vanessa!” she gasped, I got to the pool a step ahead of her, The water was very clean and clear. You could see Vanessa’s body on the bottom at the deep end. Her hair had come loose. It streamed out from her head a little. A thick ooze of blood ean out, S00S 5% ALY an hour after Vanessa’s body had been taken out of the pool, I sat in the big living room and watched a burly plainclothes man scribble in a green notebook, “You admit you was the fast person to see her alive, Mr. Reynard?” “No.” “That's what you said, ain’t it? You was out there talking with her while she was swimming.” “That doesn’t mean I saw her alive last.” He questioned Emily Hayden briefly without taking his eyes from the green notebook. “Okay,” he grunted, “I'll talk to the colored cook now. Bring her in.” They brought Lily in, sobbing and crooning her grief. She’d been with Vanessa from the beginning. Ll saw my chance to get ouf of the house a minute. I wanted a look around that walled garden. The dew still lay heavy on the grass. The birds had gotten hep to a brand new day, and were singing their heads off. Vanessa’s swimming pool lay calm, smooth and innocent, like a blue mir- ror. I passed up a big circle of tracks on the wet grass at the edge of the pool. Closer to the white brick wali was a deep heelprint. But it could’ve been made _ by one of the cops. A whiff of acrid smoke tickled my nose. I followed it up. On top the brick wall lay a fuming cigarette butt. It had almost burned itself away to nothing. Almost. You could still see the gold monogram on the grey ashes. Tur- rentine’s monogram. The garden wall, on that sae had a high wooden gate, barred on the inside. It led out to the walnut grove and was seldom opened. Flakes of whitewash lay on the ground - underneath the bar of the gate. I lifted the bar and pushed. Hinges groaned. The tracks of Turrentine’s horse stood out plainly on harrowed ground under the walnut trees. Particularly around the wall, where the nag had stood. A shiny place showed on a tree limb where the reins had been tied. Beyond the walnut grove stretched an apricot orchard. Beyond the apricot or- chard I saw the tops of sycamoves along one of the flood beds of the Los AR- geles River. I went back in and dropped the bar in place. I did some wondering as [I walked through the patio to the house. From the upstairs windows of Emily Hayden’s office you couldn’t see the pool, but you could see the part of the — where the gate was. | THE breakfast room the cops were still trying to pry facts out of Lily, and she was still calling on Moses. I got Emily Hayden’s eye. We went into the library. I shut the door. “Look,” I said. “How did you-happen to miss telling the cops about my hand being cold and wet when I came into the house from the swimming pool?” Her clear grey eyes were hard as quartz. “I see no reason why I should make things—” I grabbed her by both her tailored tweed shoulders. “Look,” I snarled. “Any time you miss a chance to snipe at Ol’ Brer Mark there’s a reason, You know something. What is it?” I gave her a shake. “You're holding out, Tell me, you prissy little Pollyanna, or I'll shake the teeth out of you!” I went to work on her. As her head snapped back and forth her ashy hair stood up, flopping. She got enough quick, choked. I stopped. “Vanessa didn’t sleep here last night,” Emily Hayden said calmly. “How do you know?” “T heard her come in. Besides, she left her clothes on the floor in her room. | think she went to the riding stable. “Why 9" “Come to her bedroom and see for yourself.” She led the way and shut the bedroom door behind us. “There,” she whispered. Vanessa always threw her clothes om the floor. Just stood and let things fall. I sorted the stuff over. An embroidered kerchief she must've tied over her head; “Stop!” she comicoookKs (©