10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18 could’ve been you. But, for that mat- ter, it could’ve been the director guy, Kane, or Voss. Both those guys are nuts about her. So we’ve got four sus- pects, with plenty of motive.” I got up to leave. “Four people, and I’ve got to figure out which one fits.” “Five.” His voice was low, and I could hardly distinguish the word over the band music. I said: “Listen. To you I may be a murderer. To the cops I may be a mur- derer. But me, personally, I know I’m clean. So that leaves four.” “Five.” He said it again. “Five. You were forgetting Madden.” I said: “Yeah, I was forgetting Madden,” The words seemed to shout in my ears, but I didn’t realize why. I was thinking of the spot I’d be in if it turned out Madden had pulled the job. If it was Madden, it might as well’ve ‘been me, A new voice broke in on us, and I understood why my last words had seemed so loud. The band music had been cut off the air, and the announc- er Was giving out a staccato announce- ment: “We interrupt this program to bring you a special bulletin. The body of Dart Ricconi, eastern gangster, has just been discovered by police, in a se- dan parked outside of Madden’s Road- house, on the Woodside Highway. Po- lice have interviewed Madden and as- certained that the sedan is owned by one Stephen Craig. “Madden stated that Craig was for- merly in his employ, but was fired last night, after publicly fighting with the gangster whose body was found this morning. A dragnet is being spread for Stephen Craig, and police expect his early apprehension. Keep tuned to this station for bulletins of local news items. We return you now...” Hedgewick was staring at me, his eyes suddenly wide. _ Isaid: “You don’t have to’ve heard it. Nobody. knows whether you heard it or not. You can keep your trap shut a few hours.” “In your car,” he said softly. “In 10-STORY DETECTIVE your car. No wonder you’re worried.” I said: “Listen, Hedgewick. I’ll plas- ter her name all over the front pages. I’ll make her the cheapest tramp that ever came out of Hollywood. Or Brooklyn. When I get through with her, she’ll be on every blacklist in the country, It’s up to you.” “Yes,” he said evenly, “it’s up to me. And I’m—” The door swung open and the little guy in the frock coat scuttled inside. CHAPTER IV HOLLYWOOD HELLCAT PLACED him this time, in spite of the make- up. Kane, the direc- tor. He stopped, see- ing me, and Voss, coming in behind, socked into him, throwing him forward. The actor was in cowboy rig, chaps, spurs, ten gal- lon hat, thick black gloves. The sallow look was gone from his face now, probably due to a few hours’ work by the makeup crew. A hard, lean son of the West, with a build to make the shopgirls swoon, That was Voss. And he was in my way, blocking the door, His eyes passed over me for a sec- ond, then shifted back to Hedgewick. I was watching the producer, wait- ing for it. My right hand was free, ready to drop, but my spot was bad. Hedgewick was half behind me, Voss and Kane in front. It was going to be hard to cover all three of them. Nobody said anything for a minute. We just stood there, eyeing each oth- er, and I felt the fingers of my right hand tightening up on me. It was Hedgewick’s show now, not mine. Kane broke the silence, ignoring me, and speaking to the producer. ‘“‘Com- ing out to watch the retakes?” he piped, “I don’t know yet how much we'll have to change, but Miss Croy’s note said the scene would have to be COMMICOOOKS (E@