10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

36— She glanced down at her wrist, frown- ing uncertainly. “He told me he’d see you if you came before eleven-thirty. But it’s ten after twelve now. I'd hate to disturb him if he’s asleep. He’s had a hard day _—his asthma, you know.” “T know,” I answered sympathetical- ly. But [ didu’t. I’d barely met the old hoy. Though a bit disappointed, I said noth- ing more, but picked u and followed the girl’s slim young figure up the stairs, wondering irrelevantly as Y watched her move, catlike, just how many other bodies like that there were in this world going around disguised in dowdy brown dresses. At the door to my room she bid me good-night, wished me a good rest and then left me. As I smiled my thanks I tried to figure out just what it was that bothered me. | The whole setup was screwy, I decid- ed while preparing for bed. I had a new job, but.I didn’t know what I was sup- posed to do. [ had a new client, but I knew nothing about him. Sinking into the luxurious soft sheets, t lit a cigarette and thought it over. The girl’s uncle, Colonel Morton Herrick, had stepped into my office just that very morning. He was very vague about what he wanted. Gradually I gwatLered the idea that the old guy wanted principally some- one to stay day and night at his place, to keep an eye on his guests, and, last and most important, to stick close to him. At the end of our interview I tried to pin him down a, little. “Colonel Herrick,” I said, hesitating just a second, “it sounds to me like you’re asking for personal protection.” The old buzzard gave me a frozen stare that rained snow. “Brilliant, Mr. Bowen. Since all the guests present will be close relatives, I don’t think the task will be too arduous, even for you. But please re- member your job is to observe, not to speculate. f leave the last to my lawyers. And now, good day. I shall expect you late this evening.” I knew then why the old gent had made such a generous offer. He had to be generous, to wet away with such insults. AFTER a while I crushed out my cig- : arette, switched off the bed lamp, shoved my fist into the pillow, and closed my eyes. Outside the rain and the palm 10-STORY DETECTIVE — my bag again - . fronds scraping the wall of the house made a restless whispering in the night. Tf it hadn’t been for the half-dozen un- answered questions racing through my mind, they might have lulled me to sleep. After what seemed like ages, my body began to relax and my thoughts began to wander. I began seeing a neat little figure in a dowdy brown dress, climbing a set of wide carpeted stairs. Then some- thing jerked me awake. It was another sound, harsh yet some- how muffled, Raising from the pillow, I strained in the darkness to listen. It came again—one, two, three sharp, explosive sounds, Suddenly I realized what it was. In the next room the Colonel was cough- ing. Feeling like a fool, I lay back again and told myself to relax. The gounds did not come again. Lying there quietly listening, gradually the fact that they did not recur began to bother me eyen more. My tensed nerves seemed to keep waiting for them. It was useless even to close my eyes. I remembered suddenly something the girl had said about the old man’s health. Without thinking I jumped out of bed, snapped on the lamp, and pulled on my robe. Fumbling vainly for my slippers, _ I crossed the icy cold tile to the door. The hallway outside was much darker than before. A single light ourned feebly over the top of the stairway at the far end of the corridor. From my door at the other end I saw at a glance that the half- dozen other doors lining the hall were firmly closed. Easing forward some twenty feet to the one next to mine, f stood outside it for a moment and listened. Nary a whisper came from inside. £ leaned low, held one ear against the pan- elling, and strained my eardrums. It was as quiet as a Boston Sunday. Bending lower, I glanced at the keyhole, then at the floor sill, looking for a crack of light. There was none. Satisfied, [ breathed a sigh of relief, turr.ed around, and walked straight into a gleaming white shirt front. “Pardon me,” [ muttered, startled, stepping back. He was the biggest, most impressive- looking man I have ever seen. He stood at least six inches over my puny six feet. His black beetle-like brows frowned down at me with an expression that carried the chill in my feet tc the top of my spine. I knew he was a Herrick, I could tell that at a glance; He had the bushy browa, the COnniclooo© eS Eoin