10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

PASS-KEY TO THE MORGUE——————_——__—_29 Kane pointed the beam to the floor again, saying: “He’s dead!” Holding his smarting jaw, Lawler wheezed, “Oh!” as if there was some- thing in his throat difficult to swal- low. The gleam revealed a small dark mass beside the body, with a streak across it where Kane’s heel had struck and skidded. There was an- other mass on the floor, too, just on the edge of the pool of light. The mass had an _ iridescent gleam. Kane reached down and felt it. It was cold and wet. He threw the stuff from him, laughed shortly. He chuckled grimly: “He’s dead. Deader than these fish. Quinn must have just come in from the lake with uhese fish when he was killed.” In the torch’s glare the dead man’s face looked broad and gaunt and lined. His hair was gray, matted. “This is Quinn, isn’t it?’ Kane asked shortly. Lawler now timorously hovering above him, considered for a moment, said: “I don’t know. I never saw him. But it must be from the description I got.” Kane leaped in quick alarm. “The necklace! Has someone beat us to it?” He pushed Lawler aside roughly, started from the room. In a queer, strained voice Lawler began: “I wonder—” “What!” snapped Kane, stopping short. Lawler gulped. “I said I wonder who could have done it.” Kane ran through the narrow pas- sage to the stairway in the front hall. Together they hurried up the stairs, down the hall to the door of Mrs. San- ford’s bedroom. Behind a hanging picture in the alcove dressing room, Lawler found the safe, the door tightly closed. Evi- dently it had not been tampered with. Kane said tersely: “Hop to it. Crack that can, and be damned quick about it. I’ll take a lovuk about.” Lawler lost no time in busying himself with the safe door. Kane left him there, sauntered back up the hall, looked into the other rooms. They seemed empty. He descended to the first floor, walked through the dark rooms there. No one was about. Evi- dently the place was quite deserted. The cellar still remained to be in- spected. The door to the cellar was in the narrow passage between the hall and the kitchen, where Quinn’s body lay. Kane descended the cellar steps. Down there it was quite warm. He heard the faint purr of a motor, saw a dark, bulky object in one corner, a dull red glow issuing from it out of a narrow slot. The furnace. Evi- dently old Quinn had attended to it before going to the lake. Proceeding cautiously, Kane en- tered what seemed to be a paneled recreation room, bumped against something sharp—the corner of a billiard table. He grasped the edge of the table, pressed his fingers into the rubber cushion. He stood thus for a moment in silence. His thin lips re- laxed a little. Then he walked back to the furnace, threw open the door. A dull glow lit the gloom, suffusing the table with a soft, rose-colored light. From a rack Kane selected a cue, began clicking away intently at the ivories. Suddenly the electric lights in the eellar flashed on with startling un- expectedness. Kane, in the act of making a shot, paused, his cue sus- pended, startled for the moment. From somewhere above came the sound of hurried footsteps. Quietly, Kane laid his cue on the table, whipped out his automatic, crept up the stairs and listened. Someone was running lightly, descending the stairs from above. Kane saw him first. It was Lawler, his face pale with ex- citement. In his hand he held some- thing that glittered—the Sanford necklace ! Kane said: “What happened? Why the lights ?”’ Lawler, quivering, gasped: ‘““Where you been?” Kane snapped: “Why in hell the — COmMiCloolks CO