10 Story Detective, July 1942 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

46-—_—————___—_—__10-STORY DETECTIVE————— “Qh, Paul, why did you come back? Why didn’t you stay away?” “Come back!” He frowned. “But I haven’t been here before. I went for a turn around the park first, trying to think things over. Then I decided there was no other way, so I came here to have a showdown with Lambert.” I decided it was time for me to butt in. “Listen,” I said, “my uncle has been killed, murdered, and Id like to know who you are.” He didn’t pay any attention to me. Instead he walked over to Sally and took hold of her shoulders and asked: “Tell me what happened. Every- thing.” She did. She told him the same story she’d already told me. How Uncle Henry had seemed sick, how she’d run to the kitchen for some water, and came back to find him dead, struck over the head with the poker. I headed determinedly for the tele- phone. This time nobody was going to stop me. It was high time the police took charge. I picked up the receiver and this fellow Paul said: “What are you doing?” “I’m going to notify the authori- ties.”’ “T think you’d better take a look at this first, before you do anything.” He put his left hand in his pocket and took out an envelope and brought it to me. I glanced at it and saw the words Lambert Investments printed in the upper left-hand corner. It was addressed to Paul Benson, Parkview Apartments. I started to open the en- velope and the lightning struck. I was caught completely unpre- pared. And I doubt if a man was ever hit much harder. I never saw it com- ing because I was concentrating on the letter, and so I made absolutely no move to protect myself. He was strong and he knew how to use his fists. The blow crashed against the side of my chin. I don’t exactly have a glass jaw, but my head snapped back like the recoil of a gun. I went reeling across the room which was suddenly revolving in tight little circles. Then the floor heaved up like a log and caught me against the base of my skull. I saw a blinding flash and then a great darkness swallowed me. I remember thinking: He didn’t knock me out. It was the blow against my head. GUESS it couldn’t have been very long, and yet when I opened my eyes there was a circle of faces around me and I could see uniforms— policemen’s uniforms. A very fat man was questioning a Filipino. “You found them both like this, eh?” The Filipino bobbed his head. ‘‘Yes, sir. Master Lambert dead, sir. Strange man here on floor. I think maybe they have fight.” “Skip the conclusions, Ecija. You called us right away?” “Qh, yes, sir.” I turned my head away from the ammonia fumes somebody was hold- ing against my nose and a voice said: “He’s coming around now, Hallock.” The fat man left the Filipino and watched me get up. He was wearing a loose tweed suit that fitted like a bur- lap bag. He was very fat. His jowls sagged like a lion’s and he had three or four chins. He had a big yellow handkerchief in his hand and he kept mopping at his forehead which was sweating. He didn’t look very much like my idea of a detective. His eyes made me uncomfortable. They were small and shiny, like small pellets of pol- ished coal. He had a quiet manner of speaking and he said: *“You’re the old boy’s nephew, eh?” “Yes, sir.” I swallowed and gingerly tested the back of my head. He looked concerned. ‘‘How’d you get hurt?’ I opened my mouth to tell him about the fellow and the girl—Sally and Paul—but then I changed my mind. I didn’t know where the girl fitted in and there was something MIGoOo (C(O) S (C(O) im