10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

100-————__—_—__—_——__—-10-STORY DETECTIVE he’d been stabbed. How did you know?” Parker seemed to have realized his mistake even as he spoke. He bit his lip now, said desperately: “I looked in to tell Doctor Loring that you were here. I saw his body. Good God, Nor- vale, I didn’t do it. I just found him that way. I—I didn’t want to be mixed up in the whole thing any more, so I packed my bags.” The trooper’s hand clamped tighter on his shoulder. “So you figured you’d walk out, huh? I guess you better stick around awhile.” He shook the pale secretary and looked at Weston. “Will you phone headquarters, sir? I’ll take this bird up to his room and look throuch his bags. Might find a clue to Miss Brenda’s disappearance.” Weston nodded, seeming too stunned to speak. The trooper drew his gun, motioned to Parker. “Get upstairs, you!’ Parker said nothing. He glared at Weston and Norvale, picked up his bags and went up the stairs, followed by the trooper. Weston looked pale and drawn. Deep shadows lay under his eyes. ~ “God!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe it’s possible—that Parker should be capable of murder!” “Did he and Loring ever have any trouble?” Norvale asked. “None that I know of. They seemed to get along all right.’”’ Weston was suddenly struck by a thought. He clutched Norvale’s sleeve. “Brenda! If he’s killed Loring, he must have killed Brenda too. Where do you think he’s hidden her?” Norvale shook his head. “I’m not a detective. Let’s leave it to the police.” Weston said wearily: “Well, I guess that’s about all we can do, I think I'll lie down on the couch in the study after I phone. It'll take them a little while. Milford, the county seat, is eighteen miles from here. You going to wash up?” “Not yet, I want to look in the mu- seum again. There’s something—” Norvale stopped in mid-sentence as there came from above the sudden slamming of a door and the sound of the trooper’s voice raised in an angry shout: “Open that door, damn it!” Then the sound of something batter- ing against wood to the accompani- ment of curses. ORVALE lunged up the stairs followed by Weston. In the up- per hall they saw the trooper banging away at the closed door of one of the rooms with the butt of his gun. ed. The trooper turned an apoplectic face to them. “We were steppin’ into his room. Parker went in first. It was dark, an’ he just slammed the door in my face!” “Let’s break it down,” said Norvale. “Shoot the loek out!’ Weston shout- ed. “Before he gets out the window!” The officer nodded, He placed the muzzle of his gun close to the lock and fired. Then he shoved against the dooz, and it swung open. The room was in darkness. The trooper shouted: “Come out!” There was no answer. Norvale slid past the uniformed man into the room, felt along the wall for a light switch, found it and clicked it on. The room was empty. The window was open. The trooper leaped to the window and fired in the air. Shadowy figures ran across the grounds toward the house. They were the guards who had been scattered about the place. Nor- vale recalled that Weston had always provided himself with plenty of pro- tection. a barked in the darkness out- side. The trooper raised his voice above the noise of the dogs, calling to the men who ran towards them. “Look out for Parker. He’s a murderer. He jumped out of this window. He must be outside!” “What's happened?” Weston shout- ecom (9) books (E@) S