10-Story Detective, November 1942 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

CURSE OF THE BLEEDING STONE——--——————63 had been fashioned. This let Whitten out of the picture and pinned the blame for that attack in the living room on Keith. He was the only per- son loose on the island. Kerrigan’s flash showed something else that was highly significant. There were heel prints in the dirt—those from high-heeled shoes. That meant Mary Lee. She was apparently helping Keith. Then Kerrigan heard a faint snap of a branch. He ducked out of the cave and threw himself flat on the ground behind a bush. A shadowy figure ap- proached the cave slowly. There was a gun in the man’s hand and moon- light soon revealed his identity. It was Billy Keith. He entered the cave, stayed there about two minutes and then headed straight toward the big house. Kerrigan decided not to grab him immediately. It was best to let Keith show his hand. Kerrigan had an idea Benson’s murder had been committed for more than pure hatred. Keith might show the way to a complete so- lution of the case. | Keith moved rapidly, as though he’d followed the trail to the house often enough to be familiar with it. Kerri- gan held far back, and when he reached the house, there were no signs of Keith. A weak light burned in the hallway, but the rest of the house was in darkness. Then, suddenly, the eerie silence was broken by a scream. Cotter’s voice, Kerrigan guessed. The scream came again, and then shouts for help. Kerrigan raced to the front door, found it locked and pounded on the panels. It required three or four min- utes before Maguire let him in. The caretaker was fully dressed and he held a short, ugly looking club in his hand. “It’s upstairs,’ Maguire said hoarsely. “Somebody else has been killed. I’m getting off this island before I’m murdered, too.” Kerrigan rushed up the steps. Mary Lee was in the hallway, clutching a negligée around her slim figure. Cot- ter was there, too, one arm bleeding slightly. Whitten wasn’t in sight, not just then, but he came out of his room blinking owlishly a moment later. Cotter said, “I was just dozing off. I heard a sound, opened my eyes and someone was standing over me—with a knife. It slashed my arm. Why it didn’t slice right into my heart, I don’t know. I was too stunned to put up much of a fight, and the killer just dashed through the door and that’s all I know.” Mary Lee came forward, gave Whit- ten a strange look and then faced Ker- rigan. “I wasn’t asleep,’ she ex- plained. ‘““When I came into the corri- dor right after Mr. Cotter screamed, I saw my cousin, Arch Whitten, enter his room. He looked as if he were walking in his sleep—and he had a knife in his hand.” “You’re mad,” Whitten howled. “I was asleep. I swear it. I don’t remem- ber getting out of bed until this racket awakened me.” USHING by Whitten, Kerrigan entered his room and began searching it. He required only a cou- ple of minutes to unearth a knife, with a still bloody blade, hidden be- neath a corner of the rug. Whitten looked at it and turned deathly pale. “T never saw that before. I swear | never did.” Kerrigan pushed Whitten into a chair and stood over him looking down sternly. “Remember what you said about young Keith? That one of those Druid spirits took possession of him and he didn’t know what he was doing? Maybe the same thing ap- plies to you. Mary said you looked as though you were walking in your sleep. Whitten, I think you ought to be handcuffed to something very sub- stantial—to keep you from roaming about with murder in your heart.” Whitten slumped deep into the chair. “I can’t deny what you say,” he admitted. “If Mary saw me, then I must have been in Cotter’s room, but comiclbool C©