10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

a4 “o> suspected hidden panels; they tied in with other things he was learning about Leymore. A light rap on his door. He unlocked it, posted himself well to ene side, taking ne chances. “Come in,” he invited. The butler entered. Race shut the door, locked it. The butler noticed that. “So you al- ways keep your door locked, do you, Ben- nett?” The butler walked over to the windows. “The bullet didn’t come through them. Look, was your door locked when that shot was fired?” | Race saw no reason for denying a faet the fellow already knew. “Sure it was.” The butler looked at the bullet hole in the wall. “Where was you standing?” Race showed him. The fellow lined him- self up with the bullet hole, looked at Race queerly. ‘‘Look, if you was standing here, the bullet couldn’t of come from the door or windows. Where did it come from?” , It was a question Race couldn’t very well parry. He was a bit mystified. The ‘question the butler should have asked— who had shot at him—he hadn’t asked. Instead he was asking questions Race figured he would naturally not ask. He decided on a sudden hunch to tell the truth about the panel, but to make the fellow ask the identity of his assailant. He told about seeing the panel slide shut, then added the words, “A man’s head and right arm were sticking through the opening.” The butler looked startled. A wicked gleam crept into his eyes. “So that’s it. One of them panel tricks, huh? Say, how’d the shot miss you?” “Tt heard the panel opening and dropped to the floor.” The butler pondered that. “So if a guy was not to hear the panel—if you hadn’t - heard it, you’d be a dead chicken, huh?” . He turned to the door. “Well, I got to be going.” Race let him out, relocked the door. Race stood there, turning things over in his mind. He had been careful to not tell the butler it was Leymore who had shot at him. Yet the fellow hadn’t asked, hadn*t even been interested in the iden- tity of his-assailant. What did that add up to? He decided it meant the butler knew Leymore had tried to kill him, but didn’t know about secret panels. No man et a» his mee * senses B sicoe depute failed = HOLOCAUST HOUSE——_______—_____39 ask who the assailant was after bemg prompted to do so, mae Oe decided, unless he already knew. So what? If the fellow was already ia the know, that meant Race hadn't fooled him. Maybe he had persuaded Leymore to kill him. Maybe he had told Leymore that Race was out to murder him. That added, but not to the answer his theories were pointing to. He didn’t want to stand guard all night over that panel. His eyes lit on a huge chest-of-drawers, big enough to cover the panel. He worked it over. If that nut, . Leymore, returned he’d be checkmated, at least long enough for Race to be awakened. He stood there ten minutes before he. convineed himself the piece of furniture was a capable guard and turned to un- dress and get some sleep. ACE was awakened by what sound- ed like a muffled shot. His wrist watch told him it was ten after four. Throwing his clothes on hurriedly and not forgetting his pistol, he slipped out- side; steod there trying to determine where the shot had come from. He de- cided it must have been from the far end of the house, in the region of Ley- more’s room. He knocked on a door four doors from Leymore’s room. It was opened by a wiz- ened littl man, baldish and nervous looking. Race remembered him as Sam Unlaw. “Did you hear a shot, Mr. Un- law?” “Yes, I did.” > He pointed toward Ley- more’s room. “It sounded like it came from there. There’s nobody im the rooms between us.” He followed as Race walked on and rapped at Leymore’s door, rapped severaf times. Race selected the key he had used before, unlocked the door. Followed by Unlaw, he walked inside. Lying on the floor, fully dressed, was the body of Roger Leymore. He lay face down, arms outstretched. Unlaw stood as if in a trance. “Go and tell Dr. Lathan to hurry here,” Race said, pushing the man to the door. Unlaw left on his errand. Race knew Leymore was dead. He looked at the hands, parted the hair and examined the left. side of the head. Turned his attention to the bed. Pulling a pistol from under the pillow, : ne ave Save A tees Se ty wate fag Wa