10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

~ 54——_—__—________ 10.STORY DETECTIVE missioner gimme my badge back. I got it in my pocket. It is goin’ to be fun workin’ with Hambone again. After what I been through F need laughs like a guy who has sat through eight Karloff pitch- ers. Weli, well, the joint ain’t changed much.” “Well, welcome home,” I says. ““An welcome homicide,” a big cop says, comin’ in. “A rich guy was just found knocked off in one of them private brown- stones in the Cheisea district. Why don’t you go along with the D. A.’s dopes, Louie? You must be as rusty as a flivver that: has been in an empty lot for ten years.” “You think the boss’d mind?” Lovie asks. “I could maybe try out a P-38 pia- tol I frisked offen a dead Nazi at Cassino.” “IT dunno,” Hambone says, making sure he has his Roscoe. “I¢é ain’t exactly—” “He has a badge,” I says. “An’ some brains which we will need.” “Alvin,” Louie says, “you sure got on the ball since I been gone, an’ that ain’t no army ehicken I am handin’ yeu.” “He is gettin’ too smart for his romp- ers,” Hambone says, “What has he been writin’ you about me, huh?” “Huh? Just would be askin’ too much. for me to bring him some art treasures, Noonan,” Louis says, winking at me. “But is this the way to solve a murder? Seems funny. I killed a hun’red Krauts. b bet, an’ didn’t have to think up even one alibi. I left my prints all over the gun, too. If I had it here, I bet Noonan would not be able to find one, huh?” Noonan bites his nails and hia eye- brows jump. “Awright, Louie, so use all your needles, We'll see who gits the most clues where we are go “T mean the right ones,” Louis says. It is good to have him back. Bye ALL go down to an old erumby brownstone or West ‘Twenty-fourth Street. It looks like vampires had held a gallop in it only the night before. The furniture must have gone out of date about the time Lincoln spoke at Gettys- burg. In a very dingy room on the sec- ond floor we find the deceased with the county’s stiff appraiser kneeling beside him. “How was the murder dene?” Ham- bone asks, hooking his thumbs in the arm- holes of his vest. “They didn’t use a rubber band and a cud of gum,” the medical citizen sniffs. “Somebedy used a shiv and drove it quite deep into his pot roast. Oh, hello, Noonan, Couldn’t the D. A. find somebody else who wasn’t playin’ poker? Why, if it ain’t Louie Garfunkle! Put ’er there, Louie !” “Lay down the shiv,” Louie says. “I had quite a time keepin’ this right hand where I been.” . “Pardon me,” the corpse analyst grins. We get to work. The defunet person - used to go by the name of Mandril Quirk. A very seared butler tells us Quirk was a connoisseur of famous paimtings. Who- ever slew him had stolen a very old paint- img which all. other whatever-you-call- them’s had been trying to buy or steal from him for weeks. “Most art dealers never believed he had it,” the butler says. “It got lost for eenturies, But of late the master was in financial difficulties and was weighing the idea of selling the picture. 1 promised the master I’d never breathe the name of’ the painting to anyone. 1+ seems a friend of his brought it from abroad an’—” “Well go grill her,” Hambone says. “She—” I look at Louie; He elaps: his hands to his noggin, then tells Chitney, the butler, to go on as we are trying to listen. “What did I say?” Hambone asks. “The master never really told the art dealers what She name of the painting was,” the flunky says. “He gave them a — just te prove to them it was cracked: in spots, it was that old.” “We better investigate, Alvin,” Ham- bone says. “You an’ Louie keep people out . while ]—” _ “Hasn’t changed a bit, Alvm,” Louie says. “This should be fun, Lyin’ in fox- holes, } dreamed of the day when I would: once more see the mental deficit in ac- tion,” Hambone and the cops cannot find any clues. Lovie suggests that all of. the late Quirk’s employees be herded. into the room and questioned. The butler says: that besides himself, Mandril. Quirk had an old housekeeper named Lucretia Blodger. I} shiver. Somewhere I heard of a dame with a handle like that. I ask. Louie about it. | “Yeah. She was a tough eupcake; Al- vin, She carried arsenic around. with her, Eonmicloooks (CO