10-Story Detective, November 1942 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

] SHES winked at her and slipped down the hall, opened the door to Katie Boyle’s office. Her blue eyes nar- rowed. “TI guess you've figured out I’m nota cabby,” Ashes said. “You’re in some kind of business that’s dangerous,” Katie Boyle said. “It’s in your eyes.” Ashes grinned. “I’ve never met any- one as dangerous as you, honey. I want to talk to you alone tonight. Set the time and place.” “You're big,” Katie Boyle said, “but two circulation hustlers could take you. Get out!” “Think again, honey,” Ashes drawled. “The name is Bly—Ashley Bly.” Katie Boyle studied that a minute. Her blue eyes widened. ‘‘ You’re—” ‘Don’t say it,” Ashes grinned. ‘“‘Where do I meet you?” “Now I know you,” Katie Boyle frowned. “I’ve seen your pictures of- ten. I guess you’ve got me—I mean, I’d sooner talk to you peaceably than—”’ “Unh-huh,” Ashes said. “T’ll break my date with Rosie and see you about eight. I Hive at the Key Apartments, right across the street from M.M. and his niece. They live at Braxton Chambers.” “‘Who’s Rosie?” Ashes asked. “Roser Slainte,” Katie Boyle said. said. “He’s a dirt columnist. He used to be with the News; now he’s with the Clarion. He's filthy. And that heathen Jap valet of his, Jakie, is much worse. I don’t know why he has- n’t been sent to a concentration eamp, the little monkey.’ “He'll get his,” Ashes said. “Bye now....” Ashes had timed his stop-over just right. Marin Moerly was taking her first step toward the doors as he round- ed the corridor again. Esterly was fol- lowing her, not quite the puppy dog now, however. More like a bulldog. Ashes slid around them and into the cab. A few blocks later, he helped them out in front of Braxton Cham- 10-STORY DETECTIVE———— bers, still carrying the green traveling bag as a badge. The trio pushed through to an ele- vator and mounted, tension increas- ing, to the fourth floor. Marin Moerly led the way over a thickly carpeted corridor to the door of Suite 4-A. After inserting a key and turning the lock, she banged the door inward vig- orously. She didn’t stop in the living room. She was bound for a bedroom, so the only thing Ashes could do was stop her forcibly. “Better not, Miss Moerly,” he said, catching her. “Get out of my way!” “Stay here!’ Ashes snapped. “Hold her,” he ordered Esterly. ‘What is this?” Esterly demanded. “Who are you? Do you realize—” Ashes voice crackled. “I realize a damned sight more than either of you! Use your nose!’ Esterly had been growling. and scowling. Now, suddenly, he gave a hollow grunt. His nostrils expanded. His mouth fell open. His gray eyes goggled, and sweat appeared on his forehead. “Good Lord!” he said hoarsely as he got the odor. ‘‘S-stay here, Marin.” And very suddenly Marin Moerly fainted. She, too, had smelled it. CHAPTER II SHES watched Esterly catch the girl, then dived through the apartment. He’d never been here be- fore, but his nose told him where to go. The weather had been stifling for two weeks. M.M. Macollum had been missing for two weeks. A body gets messy in that time, under those con- ditions. Ashes flung open the windows in the bedroom before he looked in the closet. From below a newsboy’s raucous cry arose. “Wuxtry! Wuxtry!” Ashes tightened his lips, wrenched open the closet door, looked once and slammed it hard. cConnicloool C@ 5}