10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

KNIFE-MAN’S NEMESIS OUNTING the steps of the walk- up apartment, O’Hare wondered what Irene had for supper. Whatever it was, he hoped there was a lot of it, because he was wolf-hungry. And then, as his eyes came above the floor level, he froze. There was no erack of light shining from beneath his apartment door, and this made things definitely wrong. Irene was al- ways home at this time, always had supper waiting for him. She hadn't - missed a night since their father died. O’Hare ran the last few steps, jammed the key home in the lock. He swung the door wide and snapped the switch, flooding the living room with light. “Irene!” The cold emptiness of the apartment flung the shout back in his ears, And then he understood. The golden-haired Irene was only teasing. She was always playing tricks on him. She’d come out of hid- ing in a minute, her sparkling blue eyes laughing at his fears. He went from room to room, pre- tending to look for her. And sudden- ly he remembered she hadn’t teased him at all for a week. Her mind had been too preoccupied with her new boy friend. : A week, What else had happened a week ago? It was there in the back of his mind—Saunders saying the mad butcher had come to town just a week before. But there was nothing to bring it forward, yet. He snapped on the kitchen light and the first thing to catch his eye was the table, set for one. Then he saw the note on the plate and snatched it up. Dear Tom: I’m sorry, darling, but you'll have to get your own supper. Oh, I’m so happy, Tom! I’m eloping with the grandest man in the world! He’s very good-looking and a swell person, even though he is handicapped. I know you'll be crazy about him! The next time you see me I’ll be Mrs. Redford. O’Hare groaned and crushed the note in a big fist. The little fool! The crazy, idiotic little fool! She’d only 69 known the guy a week and here she was eloping with him! And what did she mean, handi- capped? Was the guy blind, or maybe deaf, or a cripple? A cripple! The picture little Saunders had drawn for him was instantly there in his mind. The picture of a maniac who eloped with pretty girls, insured them, then butchered them. A maniac with a game leg! O’Hare sucked in a sharp breath, so full of fear it hurt his chest. The tele- phone bell jangled and sudden relief flooded him. That would be Irene now, calling to tell him everything was okay. But it wasn’t Irene. “This is George Fleming, with Gibraltar Life Insurance Company, "a smooth voice said over the wire. “We wrote policies on your sister and her husband today and thought perhaps you would like to take advantage of our bargain offer. For a limited time only, we are offering additional poli- cies in the same family at a re- duced—”’ 3 O’Hare let the receiver slide back on the cradle and sat there, staring. He didn’t really believe it, even then. His police duties had shown him, first hand, the work of homicidal maniacs. But he just couldn’t believe such a thing could strike this close to home. And then all at once he did believe it, and a terrible pressure built up within him that threatened to blow his mind to pieces. Dropping his head into his hands, he began to massage his scalp me- chanically. The act brought back a flash of sanity. and he grasped at it, trying to reason with himself. After all, what did he actually have to go on? Merely that the killer eloped with his victims, insured them, that he had come to town at the same time Irene had met her new boy friend, that he had been seen in their neighbor- hood, that Irene’s boy friend was handicapped. Lord, that “handi- capped” could mean anything, didn’t eae S CO