10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

104———______——-10-STORY DETECTIVE “Lissen, you; what I oughta do is sock you down! Do you let me see the books you keep for the government or do I call the revenue office and get ‘em to come down and maybe find out that only half your stock is on the in- ventory ?” “You’re a lousy copper!” “Heh,” said Duryea and chuckled. Golio drew out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Do you talk or do I get you in trouble with the revenue boys?” “All my stock is entered! I keep straight records!” Golio snapped. But Golio was trapped. Every crook in the state knew Golio was an open market for stolen furs and that he was likewise a fence for other contra- band goods, on occasion. Many thou- sands of dollars of stuff passed through his hands that he wouldn’t have dared enter on his books. “Well, Golio, do you talk or do I call Bill Cook, down at Revenue?” “You ain’t got nothin’ on me! You’re bluffin’!”’ Duryea picked up the phone and gave a number. “Wait! Wait, Duryea! Put that phone down!” Duryea put the phone down. “Well,” he asked, “who framed Patty O’Reilly?’ “T don’t know.” The detective picked the phone up again. “Wait! Put the phone down! So help me, Duryea, I don’t know!’ Golio wiped his face with his hand- kerchief and repeated: “So help me.” Then: “T admit I gave Patty the coat. A guy come in here an’ said if I’d give her the coat to deliver in the mornin’, he’d take the ermine wrap off my hands—I been stuck with that wrap for a year.” “What'd this guy look like?” “T never seen him before, Duryea. I don’t know him.” “You’re stallin’, Golio.” “T’rm not. It’s straight. I never seen him before. He had a sear across his left cheek.” “There ain’t a guy in town with a sear like that!” “T know it, Duryea, but I’m givin’ it to you straight.” “Did he take the wrap?” Golio hesitated, then he said: GOV ag?" “What address he tell you to send it to?” Again the fur dealer hesitated be- fore answering. “T sent it down to Muffy Sirro’s apartment—he’ll croak me for spill- innit!” “G’by,” said Duryea. He pushed through the door marked OFFICE and went out onto the street. UFFY SIRRO’S hangout was two blocks over. Duryea caught a street car and rode the two blocks. He thought: The chief was wrong. I figured Sirro would make a play for Patty in a big way. But this method of talking and not socking— If Egan hadn’t ordered— He got off the car, ran across the traffic lane and drew up before a building marked MULVANEY’S GYM. He entered. Dad Mulvaney came forward to meet him. “Howdy, Biff?” 64 Lo, Dad.” “Come to tighten up them stomach muscles?” “My stomach muscles are all right. Where’s Muffy?” “He ain’t come in yet—yeah, there he is.” A dapper man, young, of medium height and pleasant face, came into the gymnasium behind Duryea. Muffy greeted: “Hello, Duryea. Hello, Dad.” Duryea said: Muffy.” “Pinch?” Duryea shook his head. “Well, come on back, Duryea.” They went through a rear door, passed through a room where those of “Wanta see you, Eomichooks-com