10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

FRAMED FOR A FUNERAL————————33 TSD man who wired me to hold this guy Grove.” Kirk nodded. “That’s right. I’m general manager of the Parkhurst Lumber Company. Soon as I learned about the robbery I contacted you.” Carla pulled at his arm, anger flash- ing through her blue eyes. “But, Ronald, what makes you think Tom stole the money ?” “T don’t think, I know. One of our bookkeepers, fellow by the name of Diehl, told me. He saw Grove scoop the money out of my desk just before he left on this trip. I’m rather shoeked, Grove. We trusted you implicitly.” He turned to Lieutenant Rider. “That money must be here. I demand that you make a thorough search for it.” Tom looked helplessly around. “Diehl,” he said in a very small voice. “Diehl said I stole the money ?” NE of the detectives who’d been searching through the grip let out a whistle and straightened, holding up a document. Rider took it, glanced at it, wordlessly handed it to Kirk. The general manager of the Park- hurst Lumber Company gave it a cursory look, then turned to Carla. “This is a marriage license, Carla. When did it happen?” “Yesterday afternoon in Los An- geles.”’ “Does your father know about it?” “Not yet.” ‘“‘Where are you stopping?” “In the adjoining ro—” I cut into her answer with a loud cough, but it wasn’t soon enough. She’d spilled the story already. I saw all eyes turn to the connecting door. Lieutenant Rider glided over and reached for the knob, but before he touched it, another of the detectives vented a loud exclamation. We all turned. He was standing at a _ bureau drawer, holding a small automatic pistol. “Look what I found, lieuten- ant.” Rider accepted it. His eyes nar- rowed and he lifted the barrel to his nostrils. “Cordite,” he snapped. ‘This gun was recently fired. You got a license for it, Grove?” Tom’s voice was shaky. “Of course not. It isn’t mine.” , “Yeah. That’s what they all say.” Kirk said: “I’m sorry, Carla. If ’d known I wouldn’t have carried this thing through. We’ll have to continue the search now. It’s out of my hands. After all if we don’t find the money I'll be responsible. It was taken from my desk.” Rider tried the connecting door, found it locked, and sent one of his men to the desk for a key. Several minutes later the door was thrown open. They did a pretty good job of up- setting Carla’s belongings and still didn’t find the money. One of the dicks tried the trunk and found it locked. “What’s in there, Miss Parkhurst?” Rider demanded. “Just some of my own personal things. Nothing that would interest you.” ‘“‘You’ll have to open it.” “Supposing I refuse.” “Then we'll force the lock.” I’d been quiet long enough. Things were growing too hot. I said: “You'd better think about it twice, lieuten- ant.” “Nonsense,” snapped Kirk. “As general manager of the Parkhurst Lumber Company I'll accept full re- sponsibility. We'll back you to the limit, Rider.” “That, however, is not the law,” I told him. “I warn you not to touch anything further in this room.” Talk, just talk. You know, shoot- ing my mouth off, stalling for time. If they opened that trunk we were sunk. There was a dead man in there. The man who'd witnessed, according to Kirk, the robbery of the payroll by Tom Grove. That was certainly mo- tive enough for Tom to kill him. A slow grin had spread over Rider’s blocky face. His gun was out, hefted in his palm. “I’m opening that trunk,” COMmicloo (Cc S ©