10 Story Detective, July 1942 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

50—_—________——— was sore at being made a fool of be- fore the other men. He started toward me with his great spatulate fingers spread out, tense. It was Hallock who stopped him, pulled him up short with his soft com- mand just as effectively as if he’d blocked his path. “That'll be enough of that, Greer. I’m in charge here.” This Greer made a low animal sound deep in his throat and let his hands fall against his sides, great balls of muscled bone. His eyes were slitted and drilling at me with hatred. I knew I’d made an enemy who would try to even his score at any cost. A cop came in from the foyer and said: “‘There’s a girl here to see you, Hallock.” “Bring her in.” And there she was! I just stood there and stared at her and my heart was hammering hard against my ribs. The gray eyes, the corn-colored hair, the drawn look on her wonderfully sweet face. Sally! She looked at me and not at Hal- lock when she spoke. “IJ—I had to come back. I saw the police cars downstairs and I was afraid you would blame—” { felt myself get husky inside. Hallock’s thick lips wreathed into a soft, reassuring smile. ‘Ah, so you came back because you were afraid we'd Miss—” “Benson—Sally Benson.” “Here, sit down, Miss Benson.” Hallock took her arm and led her to a chair. He was all smiles and slick as an oil stain. He fawned on her. ‘““Now, let’s get this straight. You were the girl who was here with Lam- bert when Donald arrived.” “Yes, sir. “And not Kenyon. He came later— isn’t that so?” She nodded. “Y-yes, sir.” Hallock rubbed his hands in a wash- ing motion. “That’s fine. You see, the truth always pays, Donald. I¢ al- ways comes out in the end.”’ He turned 10-STORY DETECTIVE———— accuse Donald. That’s nice, | his shrewd dark eyes to Sally again, “Lambert was dead when Donald ar- rived, eh?” “He was,” she answered in barely audible voice. “But you didn’t kill him, did you, Miss Benson?” viel a ("sai “He was alive when you got here, wasn’t he?” ; She nodded without ‘replying. “Suppose you tell us what hap- pened.” ALLY moistened her lips and kept her eyes straight ahead, dazed al- most, “I—I think he was sick. He got some kind of an attack. I ran into the kitchen for some water. When I got back he—he—was on the floor—” “With his head mashed in by that poker, eh Miss Benson?” She swallowed and her eyes were pain-filled, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I said swiftly: “She didn’t kill ' Uncle Henry. She only came here be- cause she thought her—” I choked the words against my clenched teeth. I didn’t know who this fellow Paul was, or what he was to her, and I didn’t want to get him into trouble. If Sally wanted to talk, then it was up to her. “Yes?” Hallock prompted in a quiet wheedling voice. “Who did you think it was, Miss Benson?” She got the swallow down. thought Paul had come here.” “Ah, and who is Paul?” “My—my brother.” A little spasm of gladness went through my heart. I’d thought maybe Paul had been something more to her than a brother. Hallock started wash- ing his hands in the air again. “Tell me, Miss Benson, what did your brother have against Henry Lambert? The truth, of course, We’ll find out anyway.” Her brow creased up in deep thought. Then, apparently she made up her mind to speak. She said firmly: “Just before he «6 ] a MIGoOo (C(O) (C(O) im