Pulp Fiction, 1939 · page 88 of 116
10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 88: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is an interior story page from a pulp-fiction magazine featuring the beginning of "Prison-Proof Payoff" by Charles Q. Evans. The page includes a pen-and-ink illustration of a man in a police uniform holding papers, accompanied by the caption "Valetti pulled a fool-proof steal—with a prison-proof plan." The visible prose introduces a hardboiled crime narrative: seasoned crook Slick Valetti plans to steal ninety thousand dollars in diamonds from jeweler Old Baudet, having spent months planning the heist. The text establishes an ongoing rivalry between Valetti and Police Inspector Hale, who previously confronted Valetti after he beat charges related to a Central Bank heist. Valetti believes he has arranged an airtight alibi for his impending theft.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Valetti pulled a fool-proof steal—with a prison-proof plan. LD BAUDET had the dia- () monds! It was late afternoon when Slick Valetti got the tip, but he was ready enough. Slick was no punk stick-up who blundered upon his prey by catch-as-catch-can meth- ods. He was a big-shot crook who used his head. He had chased this job for months; checking every habit and vagary of the old jeweler; tailing him from home to office, and even bribing his confidential clerk. Now he pre- ‘ pared to pull the supreme heist of his career—ninety grand in pure, blue- white sparklers! Zowie! What a sweet haul for Slick and what a lump in the craw for his ancient enemy, Police Inspector Hale. 86 That glorified copper would storm and bluster and rub his blue nose to throbbing purple. He would set a flock of dicks on Slick’s trail and drag him in for questioning. Well, let him. Slick was ready. He had an airtight alibi. For months now, the feud had raged between Police Inspector Hale and Slick Valetti. When Slick beat the rap for the Central Bank heist, the inspector had stopped him, outside the court room, to shake a blunt fore- finger beneath his nose. “Listen, punk,” roared the officer, his blue eyes taking scathing inven- tory of the other’s flashy person, in its green suit and fawn colored spats, CoTmmMicloooks Gc (C@