10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

“Maybe I was just out for a stroll,” Millard said caustically. “And maybe you were strolling this way for a reason. I’m going to get your license some day, Millard, and it looks like that day may not be far on.” Millard’s lips jerked. “Okay, but in the meantime you can go to hell. Take a Jook out back and maybe you'll see how the killer got in and out— if you can take time off from trying to impress on the boys how tough you can be.” The boys weren’t taking sides. King wasn’t popular with many members of the police department. The D.A. investigator leveled an arm at Mil- lard, warned: “You stick around till the homicide squad gets here.” Then he swiveled and went through the door at the rear. Most of the others followed. Only Stendahl and Cosgrave and the elevator boy stayed behind with Millard, and they had their backs turned to him when he slipped out the front way. CHAPTER II HE har- ness cops were still holding back the staring, jabbe-r- ing, crowd, and some one had found a canvas tarp to throw over the body in the drag- on’s mouth. It couldn’t be moved till the homicide squad and coroner’s man arrived from the center of down- town. Millard ducked through into the crowd before he could be stopped, plowed forward through the mass of struggling humanity that was fighting for a glimpse of death-by-violence. He had to get away, get to May and warn her before King had a chance to talk to Stendahi or jump to the ob- THE CORPSE AT THE CARNIVAL—-—-———————I5 vious conclusion that the lady who had been taken up in the elevator after Bonelli was May Fitz. After he got free from the jam around the Dragon Slide, the rest of pier was almost deserted. Only a few barkers were half-heartedly trying to compete against the free attraction of murder, and there were few po- tential customers left, only those hurrying to join the rest of the crowd. He went past vacant booths, past a Swami fortune teller’s stand, circled around through the parking space at the end of the pier behind the Regina Ballroom. Then he followed the side rail of the pier back towards Ocean Front. The midway had only one bright face and that was for cash customers. Back here it was like any alley, and there was no moon. The papers had called for rain before morning. Up ahead of Millard in the shadows somewhere was the rear door of the Women’s Rest Room. May Fitz should be inside, and he didn’t know how he was going to get her out unless he went in after her. And if he had to, he’d do that. But he didn’t have to. A siren was screaming down on Ocean Front, knifing up the pier. The sound, prob- ably heralding the arrival of more police, must have scared May Fitz into fearing she would be trapped in the rest room. Like a bird startled from cover, she burst from the rest- room doorway, walked swiftly away toward the boardwalk. Though she flitted through the shadows, Millard knew instinctively it was May. He moved after her, al- most called out, then hesitated and changed his mind, following from a distance and keeping to the shadows also. Passing the rest-room doorway, he caught a faint whiff of her perfume through the rank smell of the ocean. He was certain then, but still let her do the leading, impelled by a certain curiosity, a dread. When she reached the main drag, Gomichbooks.com