10 Story Detective, July 1942 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

38 live, Rhodes, her testimony wouldn’t do you any good. She’s my wife. You know that law. So now—” “Don’t be a damned fool, Hunt,” Rocky broke in gaspingly. He strained to hold the killer’s attention. “Others will figure it just like I did. You haven’t got a chance.” Harry Hunt breathed hard through his big nostrils. His gun hand shook, but not enough to give Rocky a break. “Just how did you figure things?” he demanded. Rocky’s eyelids felt as though stone statues were perched on them. Pain flooded him, but he winced, kept his eyes open. “Well, in the first place,” he began, “the obvious motive for anyone kill- ing Jack Rance would be revenge for something he had already printed, or to prevent him publishing some in- formation he had recently acquired. In this instance it was the fact that you and Donna were secretly mar- ried. Rance must have made the mis- take of mentioning his knowledge to you at the party. “Donna’s pretty and can sing, but can’t act any better than a kid giv- ing a charade. You knew the studio would seize this oppertunity to toss her out. There must be a marriage clause in her contract. That’s why you kept the wedding secret. Donna’s sal- ary, at a couple grand a week, would make a flock of greenbacks added up until her option came up. You weren’t going to let Rance dish you out of all that nice cash.” “But the news didn’t appear in Rance’s column,” Hunt rasped. “I read his piece every day. It hasn’t appeared.” “Don’t they send the column in written up well ahead?’ Donna put in weakly. “That’s the answer,” Rocky told them. “You struck a little late, Hunt. But even that would have been all right. If Greg hadn’t taken the blame, suspicion would have pointed at Donna—except for one thing. Rance 10-STORY DETECTIVE————— was vain as a peacock. He had gone up to the privacy of the bedroom to clean his false choppers, preparatory to trying to make some babe at the party. “He was stabbed in front, holding the teeth in his hand. That meant he knew the killer and that it wasn’t a woman, Rance wouldn’t have faced a femme minus his plates for all the rice in Chinatown.” Harry Hunt waggled the Spanish gun. “The hell with all this,” he snarled. “I’m going to—” OCKY put out a hand. “Wait! That’s not all, Hunt. Hugh Raw- lins must have caught you right after the kill, but didn’t let on right away. He waited until you left, then went in and placed the false teeth on the head of the polar bear rug. Then you’d know somebody was wise and would stew about it, and you’d be ripe for his blackmail proposish. “Later when he gave me that hog- wash that you two were arguing about squash, he was giving you the works, telling you to come down to his office and talk money or he’d tell what he had seen. When I went out in the garden with Donna, you followed. You attacked when Donna started to~ spill about how you had access to the knife. In the attack you dropped the card Rawlins had given you.” “That’s why you came up to Raw- lins’ office!” Hunt snarled. “Yeah. I thought it was Rawlins who attacked me, that he was the murderer. I thought it was cinched when I found that envelope full of blackmail pix in the safe.” “They ought to give me a medal for killing that slime!” Hunt rasped. His gun hand trembled as though he had the ague. “I discovered that hidden camera, figured Rawlins’ racket, too. I was afraid he might have a shot of Donna in there and I wouldn’t want anyone to get hold of it. “I took the safe combo from his desk and opened up. Then I heard that : | \O)O) =) - [ (C(O) S (C(O) nn