10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

28——___—____—_—_———10-STORY DETECTIVE-———_-———_—----- just to make sure Eddie didn’t speak out of turn before the killer could see him and fix things up. I guess he thought he could fix things up with Eddie, anyway.” Stendahl had swung back, propped a hip on the other corner of the desk, had his eyes lidded. He murmured: “Tt sounds like you’re doing a lot of guessing.” Millard ‘knifed him with a hard glance, wet his lips and addressed himself to Hernandez. “Look: Eddie as much as told me before he kicked off that the killer was some one who had something to do with Sunshine Beer. Sunshine Beer was on tap in every bar in town when Eddie was running things. “Since Bonelli took over, Sunshine Beer has been out as far as selling it on draught goes. No bar in town would touch it. There’s some double-dealing there somewhere. Under Bonelli, the syndicate clamped down on Sunshine Beer. Sunshine came in from out of town. Those hoods were out-of-town guys, and I bet if you backtrack on them you’ll find they came from San Francisco, where the Sunshine Brew- ery’s located. “Tf you stop and think, there is one guy who was on the spot at that Dragon Slide who originally hails from Frisco, and who could have had the opportunity to knock off Bonelli. It all adds up, I tell you!” “A good old-fashioned beer war, huh?’ Hernandez grunted noncom- mittally. And Stendahl was suddenly very still, breathing tightly: “Who is this guy?” Millard looked at him, straightened up and said slowly, “I can’t prove it, Lew—but I’m satisfied in my own mind, it’s—” He cut off, swinging around at a commotion outside the door. The door opened, and King and Cosgrave came ‘in shoving Lefty Reid before them. A -erowd of reporters outside the door were being held back by a couple of uniformed coppers. Cosgrave closed the door behind him, said, “Look what we’ve got!” as King pushed Lefty Reid forward. Reid’s weasel face was sullen, his lips twitching. His glittering eyes glared around, burned hate at Mill- ard, and he stood back against the wall, half-crouching, like a cornered wild thing at bay. King spotted May Fitz, whirled on her. Leveling an arm dramatically, the D.A. investigator announced accusingly: “There you are! You Jezbel!” She looked up dully, a weak light of understanding flickering in her eyes, a slow fire of resentment start- ing to burn her cheeks. Millard took one step and struck King’s arm down. “Watch that smart lip of yours,” he bit out. “I’m liable to knock a few teeth down your throat if you’re not more careful.” TARTLED, King stepped back and blinked at Millard. Then his eyes narrowed and his lips closed firmly. “She was there. She was at the slide, and she had opportunity and mo- tive.” “Okay, she was there,” Millard growled. “But she didn’t do it. She went to meet Bonelli. She’d talked to Eddie over the phone and she had a message from Eddie. Eddie wanted to arrange a meeting with Bonelli at a spot he picked himself. He didn’t trust Bonelli. But she got there too late— Bonelli had already gone down the slide.” He swung away, jabbed a dark look at Cosgrave. “Where'd you find Reid?” Cosgrave was standing with his back to the door. He moved his mili- tary shoulders. “In the Sunshine Beer warehouse. Prowl car cops going by heard a shot in there and investigat- ed. They found him unconscious and called in for an ambulance. I was with King and we caught the ambu- lance call on the short-wave in his . car. “We went to see what it was, and Reid had come out of it by then and we took him with us. He says you and Eddie Fitz knocked him out, and CORMIEl HOOKS COM