10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

———_————SLAUGHTER EPIDEMIC---—-————__—_81 TSD of the North Square gang. I’ve thought all along they pulled that job. We’re having ’em all picked up. One of ’em will crack about the break and he’ll crack about this last murder too. Mickey’s fingerprints were on file. It took just ten minutes to identify him.” “Too bad the guy that bumped him didn’t leave any prints,” Gerry sighed. “But how’s Lasher coming along? Was he hurt bad?” “No, the coroner’s man fixed him up—put his arm in a sling after he cleaned the wound. It was just a flesh wound, but whoever took a shot at the doc sure tried to finish him. It was just six inches above the center of his heart that he was struck. Lasher laughs at it, says he won’t worry. We've got a couple of men with him. We sent two out to Mrs. Fisher’s too. I figured she’d be able to pick out the murderer. If he tried to get Lasher once, he might try again and this time he might pick on Mrs. Fisher as well. It’s best to be careful.” Gerry shook his head slowly from side to side. The look in his eyes was far away. “What do you mean?” Hart snapped at him. “Shaking your head that way. Don’t you think he’ll try again?” “Nope!” And Gerry grinned. “T’ll tell you about it later. I’m going to see Lasher.” “But—” Hart began and then sank back in his chair. “Damn,” he mut- tered. But he knew Gerry. There was something up his sleeve and until he pulled it down Gerry could be made of stone for all the good questioning him would do. ERRY opened the outer door of Lasher’s waiting room, picked a chair opposite the bench on which the dead man had sat, and waited. He knew a buzzer on the outer door would warn Lasher some one was in the waiting room. Gerry had talked briefly with the two _ plainclothes men who guarded the house. They were stationed at advantageous places. The door of the consulting room opened and Lasher thrust his head out. “Sorry,” he barked, “TI can see no one today—oh, it is you—come in.” He held the door wide, and Gerry walked in. He sat down before Lash- er’s desk. The doctor regarded him queerly. “There is something new?” he asked. “Plenty,” Gerry told him. “We know who the dead man was and we know who shot him and why. If we only knew who stabbed him in your office, now, that would be something.” “Yes,” Lasher agreed complacently. “And what can I do?” ‘Mrs. Fisher,” Gerry said sudden- ly, “you can depend on her?” “Of course,” Lasher said. “Why ?” “Because she didn’t tell the exact truth, doctor. She said the man with the scar over his eye went into your office before she did. That’s not right, is it?” “Why no,” Lasher scowled. “I gave her more sense than that. She came in here first. Why, the man must have been murdered while she was in my office. I was engrossed in my work and that is probably why I didn’t hear any noise out there.” “Yes,” Gerry said flatly. ‘Well, guess I’ll talk to Mrs. Fisher some more. Mind if I come back in half an hour? It’s getting late.” “Come along,” Lasher said. “I’m closing my office tomorrow and when this is all over I’m going away for awhile. I haven’t had a vacation in years, and all this excitement has un- nerved me. I can’t do my work prop- erly.” Gerry nodded in sympathy and walked out. He opened the outer door, stepped down the one stair, and then stopped suddenly. Quietly he stepped back in the room. Outside, one of the plainclothes men emerged from the shadows of the house. He thrust a_ hand forward and slammed the door shut. Then he walked down the short comicbooks: cont