10 Story Detective, July 1942 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

seen a face express such agony. His lips twisted and his complexion turned blue, then deep purple, and finally an ashen gray. He looked like a man choking, a man drowning, strangling. He tried to say something, but only a bubble of saliva formed against his mouth. And then suddenly he col- lapsed like a deck of cards. He hit the earpet on his face and lay kicking. Then he turned over and his knees were jackknifed against his stomach. STARED at him, unable to move, fascinated as a bird is fascinated by a snake. Hallock was on the phone. “Get a doctor up here,” he cracked. “Fast, or we'll have a corpse on our hands.” I felt helpless. There was nothing any of us could do. We had to stand there and just watch him. His breath came in great gasps and the intervals between them grew longer. His mouth was open and twitching at the junc- ture of his jaws and his face went blue and red and purple again. He sucked in one great rasping breath and it seemed to get stuck in his chest with a rattle. Then he kicked and lay very still. His eyes were staring up toward the ceiling. Hallock grabbed Mrs. Kenyon’s purse and took out the small hand mirror. He stooped and held it against Ecija’s mouth. He felt Ecija’s wrist, trying to get the pulse. He laid his ear against Ecija’s breast. When he straightened his face was grim and the lion’s jowls didn’t seem loose but muscle hard. “The Filipino’s dead!” he said. Mrs. Kenyon was on her feet and her mouth. was a thin crimson slash across her face. She moved her lips and then the words came out in a thin, shaken whisper: “That’s just what happened to Henry. He—he did the same thing.” “Keep still!’ Kenyon growled. He pressed her back into the chair. It struck me then. Like a great flash of lightning. Crystal clear. And for a second I was stricken numb with CRIME ON HIS HANDS————————_ 57 the impact and I said very softly: “T got it! I got it!” I could feel all eyes turn and fasten on me. Hallock moved beside me. “What is it, Donald?” he asked gently. “What have you got?” I felt weak. The blood seemed to be drained from my veins and the marrow scooped out of my bones, I plumped down on the chair and I! looked at Mrs. Kenyon and said: “Uncle Henry was getting fat. You’ve eaten with him. Did he use saccharin instead of sugar?” She nodded. “‘Yes, always.” I turned to Hallock. ‘“‘Are there some poisons that affect the eyes, dis- turb vision ?”’ “Several. Thallium, digitalis—pos- sibly others.” “Then that’s it,” I said. “Uncle Henry wasn’t killed by a blow from the poker. He fell against it. His heart had been weakened by digitalis until he had a heart attack; his eyes had been weakened too. I saw he was wear- ing heavy glasses. The poison was in the saccharin. And the same thing happened to Ecija. He took saccharin tablets to imitate Uncle Henry.” The whole picture was crowding in on me, everything in its place. 66%7 OU see,” I said, “Mrs. Kenyon was here with him and he had an attack. She got frightened and ran away. But he got over it enough to open the door when Sally Benson arrived. And while she was here he had his second attack over near the fireplace. A post mortem of his stom- ach, and of Ecija’s, will show the poison. Sally Benson was telling the truth. He died while she was in the kitchen, falling and striking his head a vicious blow against the poker.” “Who did it, Donald?’ Hallock asked. I looked down at the floor. I felt pretty funny about the whole thing. I said: “A man who was afraid Uncle Henry would marry Mrs. Ken- yon and that would be the end of his chance ever to inherit any money. A OO) O (COUN S (C(O) im