10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHOKE’S ON ME the windows just beyond the foot of the long Roman nose, the square forceful jaw; and the steely blue eyes of the old man. If it hadn’t been for the coal black hair and perhaps a few extra pounds, I would have mistaken him for the Colonel himself. “J—I thought I heard a disturbance,” I stammered, -“I thought pewhaps the Colonel might be il. I thought I heard coughing.” The big guy didn’t seem to hear what I was saying, but kept staring straight at me. “You’re the new secretary, aren’t you?” he said tonelessly. “Yes,” I noddea, my hands gesturing ‘weakly towards the door. “I thought I heard coughing,” J tried to explain, Mr, Big kept staring, then suddenly broke into a smile. “Oh, that.” He made a gesture and tapped me companionably on the arm. “He does that all night, That’s his asthma, Don’t let that buther you.” Grinning like the fool I was, I turned away from him and headed back for my room, “Good night,” he called, going toward one of the doors down the hall. I grunted something in reply, then re- entered my room, snapped off the light, slammed the pillows with both fists, and sank into bed, thoroughly disgusted and thoroughly relaxed. From the hallway downstairs somewhere a deep-throated elock struck one. i the nurse said she screamed three times. . never heard the first two, but with the third I sat bolt-up- right in bed, the skin crewling up my spine, my hands clutching frantically for my gun. It was a helluva way to awaken, I was the fifth person to get to the Colonel’s room. Mr. Big, the young niece, a fat important-looking little guy I did- n’t recognize, and the nurse, a big ag- gressive-looking job wrapped in an unro- mantie terry cloth robe, were there ahead of me. Over by the far wall next to the bed, they gazed down at something sprawled on the floor. The bed was empty. “Phone Doctor Whitehead, George.” Mr. Big, my friends in the hallway, spoke first. “His number’s on the outside of the directory. Hurry!” The little fat fellow edged his way around me, allowing a view past the bed. It wasn’t a very pretty sight. Evident- ly the old man had tried to get up to elose 37 left side of his bea and had fallen. There was only. the cold tile on the floor to break his fall. A nasty bump was on the left side of his forehead. His face, as the nurse held hig head gently in her lap, seemed almost purple. It looked like a stroke. “I’m afraid it’s too late.” The nurse looked up, taking her hand off the old man’s pulse. “He’s dead.” A deep sob from the other side of the room was the only response. Looking across, I saw the niece hide her face sud- denly in the sleeve of her robe while her shoulders twitched violently. Crossing over, I took her arm and led her out of the room. Ten minutes or so later, soon after I heard the front doorbell ring, I left the girl in her room and went back to the Colonel’s suite. The doctor, a spare, ruddy faced fellow whose hairless pate belied his name, was bent over his ex-patient examining his eyes. “You say you found him here on the floor, Miss Post?” The badly frightened nurse nodded her tousled head, “He was dead when I got to him,” she murmured, The medico made a disgusted frown, shoved back the eyelids ence more. He rose to his feet. “He certainly was, Miss Post,” he said, a little grimly. “He's been dead for over an hour!” The eyes of the whole room, filled now with another couple I did not recognize, rested reprovingly on the nursé. That ag- gressive-looking female blushed for a see- ond, stuck out ne: angular jaw, and mo- tioned helplessly to a door at the far end of the bedroom that obviously connected with hers. “But he insisted I keep the door closed, Doctor,” she protested, her eyes bright with indignation. “I could hear nothing, what with the rain and al] this evening,” The physician barely looked at her, then grabbed up his kit. “Most unfor- tunate,” he snapped sharply, “for I am afraid now I shall have t eall in the eoro- ner,” Every eye in the room stared at him. For a second you could have heard a feather drop, Georgie, the Fat Boy, was the only one finally with the guts to speak. “Really, Doctor, do you, ah, think that ie quite necessary?” he i COmiclooo nguired, draw- KS (© inn