10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

HOMICIDE DEMON ——-—-————————47 in it, his broad face red, his eyes gog- gling. “Hammond! I thought it was the doctor.” He grabbed Agnew’s coat front. “Mowat,” Agnew gasped. “He passed away.” Hammond flung Agnew aside and ran into the house. The first open door he saw he ran in. Dave Sharon was in the room. Everything was pulled out of a small safe and thrown about. Sharon was rummaging in a desk. He turned, his face deadly white, his eyes staring starkly. “Oh!” Sharon cried. Hammond shook Sharon. Sharon’s eyes became smaller, less glazed, light came into them. “Hammond! His money! He— there’s nothing. He left nothing!” Hammond pushed Sharon away with a fierce force that sent him ‘across the room, half-turning, getting twisted in his own feet and stumbling. “You little rat! Where is your uncle?’ “Tn his bed, upstairs. Agnew helped me carry him up.” He ran upstairs and found the room — just as Sharon and Agnew came up with the doctor. He gestured the doc- tor in, hustled Sharon and Agnew into the hall, ordering: “Doc, I want a thorough examination. You have the least qualms about it, you order an autopsy. Because if you don’t, I will.” The doctor gave him a haughty, outraged stare and went to the bed. Agnew and Sharon were in the hall, Agnew chewing on half a cigar. “Listen, Agnew, and you _ too, Sharon. That doctor better think Mo- wat died naturally. Because if he doesn’t, I’ll walk barefoot through hell to send both of you to the chair.” “What's the matter with you, Ham- mond,” Agnew sneered, “the old man get under your skin? Anyone would think he was your unele. I had noth- ing te murder him for. I’m thorough- ly sick of this business. Sharon, ’m through.” “Never mind that. How did Mowat die?” “Hammond,” Sharon burst out, “you must think I—” “I asked you a question.” HARON gulped. The chalky pale- ness of his face had dimmed to a waxen pallor. His cheeks were sunken. “I made Agnew come here because I wanted to try just once more to get the money. Uncle Mowat and I talked in his library. I told him I knew he’d hired you because he thought I was going to kill him, He said I was crazy.” “Go on.” “Agnew burst into the library and said from the way I was shouting at Uncle Mowat, he was afraid I had really lost my head. Agnew suggest- ed that I leave uncle alone. I left Ag- new and uncle talking, I was too dis- gusted to care about anything. I had a couple of drinks. Agnew came run- ning out, shouting for me to get our doctor. But uncle Mowat was dead.” “Had a stroke right in front of me, poor old fellow!” Agnew sighed. “Too bad!” “You bet it is. And what’s this wrinkle you’re adding about your uncle dying broke?” “The safe is empty. His books show that he drew everything. He got rid of fifty thousand in the past week.” . “He may have put it into a differ- ent bank—or in a safety deposit box.” Sharon was rigid and cross-eyed with excitement, he stirred himself and plunged down the stairs. The doctor came out into the hall, bag in hand. “Well, it was to be expected. He had a stroke. Whoever you are,” he locked Hammond in the eye, “you can take that as the last word. Oliver Mowat had a very bad heart. He was anzmic and he was old. Because of your unfounded suspicions, I had a thorough leok at him. He suffered no violence, and he was not poisoned; I shall issue a death certificate.” Gomichbooks.com