10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

60—___—_——————_10-STORY DETECTIVE The tension held between them, though Jim masked his with friend- liness. Finally she came slowly back into the room and sank into the chair. Jim sighed inaudibly and unconscious- ly rubbed his smarting cheek. He turned to Bradley Shenckl. “You’ve given most of the major points in your claim to the company. Miss Miller was kidnapped from the grounds—” “The highway just beyond the gate,” Shenckl corrected. *‘No one saw her abducted. You re- ceived ransom notes and, against the advice of the authorities, paid the ran- som in such a way that it would be difficult for them to trace the kid- napers. Miss Miller was gone for nine days. She was released, blindfolded, about a quarter of a mile from here.” Jim swung to Ruth. “Is that right?” “Yes,” she answered. “I heard the car g0 away and I waited a few min- utes. I couldn’t believe that I had real- ly been released. Then I jerked the tape from my eyes and came home.” Jim lit a cigarette with his slim fin- gers. “No idea where you were tak- en?” he asked. “No. I know it was miles away. I couldn’t say which direction. The men slapped the tape across my eyes the moment I was in the car.” She said it in a tired tone, bored by an oft repeat- ed tale. ‘You saw the men?” “Yes, one was big and burly with a black stubble all over his face. The other was smaller, with a mean, wea- sel face. He was the one who threat- ened Paul with the gun—” “Paul Walker? He was with you?” Jim wondered how the girl could pack so much contempt in a slight movement of red lips. ‘““Yes, you may count that against him!” Jim ignored the thrust. “You were blindfolded the whole time you were gone?” He sighed hopelessly when she nodded. “There was nothing that would tell you about the room, the house? Whether it was in a town or the country ?” “TI couldn’t see a thing,” she stated flatly. “I couldn’t hear any traffic. Jim sank into his chair, crushing out his cigarette. “I guess that’s all, Miss Miller. Thanks.” She arose, gave him a look that scorched right through him and left the room. Bradley Shenckl watched her go, then swung his gaunt face to Jim. “Anything helpful?” “Very little.’ Jim arose. “I’m too tired. If you’ll loan me your car, I'll get back to Paradine. I need a hotel and a lot of sleep.” Shenckl reached for the phone. “T’ll take care of everything, and reserve your room.” The car was a long black job that purred snootily down the highway. The chauffeur stared straight ahead, deliberately keeping his eyes from the talkative Tilly who sat beside him. Jim sagged in the back seat, his tired brain refusing to tackle the job. One thing stood out, even a dunderhead could see it. Ruth Miller was anxious, too anx- lous, to protect the unknown Paul Walker. Walker was a fortune hunter, ac- cording to Bradley Shenckl, and Ruth as yet had no money of her own, Shenckl handled that for her. Jim wondered if Shenckl himself might not be a likely suspect; or, maybe, the plot was hatched between Walker and Ruth. A hundred thousand is a lot of dough, and a girl in love will do any- thing to keep her man. Jim Lillard sighed and allowed his head to drop in light slumber. He arranged for Tilly’s ride home, to the chauffeur’s disgust, and fairly staggered to his hotel room. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, and then slipped wearily out of his cloth- ing, pushed the heavy automatic un- der his pillow and crawled between the cool sheets. In an instant he was asleep. T WAS the light that bothered him. It seeped in below his eyelids so that he turned vainly to escape it. comico (©