10-Story Detective, June 1945 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

. Sn = ~ —_——_—_—————_—_———— 10-STORY DETECTIVE “I couldn’t, Dan, But if you'll meet e—” “Well, small favors are something. You mean right away?” "Yes, At the corner of Division and Third,” She hung up and stepped out of the drug-store booth. Idly she glanced at the cosmetie display, then stopped at the next counter to buy a pack of cigarettes. Dan Daly was already at the corner, — The swanky apartment house in which he lived was on the next block, “You’re lovely,” he greeted her, “Had dinner yet?” _ “Later,” she said and took his arn and hugged it to her, “Let’s walk.” “Where to?” “You'll see As they aad slowly in intimacy down a side street, Dan Daly kept beam- mg down at her, "He had a face like a buzz-saw and was thirty older, yet she seemed to go for him, All the other womer in his life, especially his frigid, sour wife, had seen in him only a chance for easy money. But this quiet, decent girl had made no demands on him. As yet. And deeent? Daly scowled down at her hat. He had known her only a week and had seen her only twice in that time —and she had picked him up in a restau- rant, Later he had considered that pick- up odd. He had learned that there was nothing brazen or forward about her. She made no demands; wasn’t even play- ing him for a dinner tonight. Maybe she hiked him, He almost believed that be- eause his vanity wanted him to. y so silent?” he asked. She smiled up at him, and he felt mild shock, They were approaching a street lamp which highlighted her face. There was no warmth in her smile; only a kind of vagueness, an impersonal remoteness exeluding him. “Here we are,” she said. Dan Daly looked about in surprise, He hedn’t paid much attention to where they were walking. He found that they were within a block of the waterfront. Across the street an abandoned warehouse stood moldering, On this side a parking lot had been given up when ears eeased com- ing to the warehouse. “Here?” Daly echoed. “Did you come to show me something?” ie She turned off the sidewalk toward the elapboard shack which had been the parking lot watchman’s shelter, Moving at her side, Daly looked down at her, but ~ he was too tall and could see nothing but her hat. Besides, they were getting be- | ES send. range of the street light. * > He said, “If you tell me what you want in this ungodly place—” She dropped hig arm and pushed open the door of the shack. Over her shoulder she tossed him a coquettish smile. The periphery of the street p caught her delicate face and showed him that there was now plenty of warmth in her smile. ello she stepped through the door into tae remained where he was, breathing hard, wondering what in the world this was all about. Last week she had picked him up in a restaurant. If she wanted to be alone with him, that was fine. But this e! “Aren’t you coming in, Dan, darling?” she called, No, it eouldn’t be what he The place was impossible. Robber? No, not that sweet girl. She could get more than the few dollars he had in his poek- et merely by asking. “Darling?” her voice said, He moved forward. It was the darling that did it. He went as far as the door and serewed up his face. The shack smelled gaggingly of rot. Dimly the light reached in and showed her shadow against one wall. Her back was to him, “For Pete’s sake, Dorothy!” he said. “Wait, darling, till I put on the light. “s “What—” Her white hand was visible reaching up the wal 1 “Light?” he said, “Even if the shack ever had electricity, it would have been turned off.” But there was a toggle-switch on the wall. As he got used to the darkness, he saw it and saw her finger touch it, He started to go to her as her finger clicked the switch. The shack dissolved in chaos. BRBEN HUNT slipped through the po- lice cordon by mingling with a group of newspapermen who swept down the street. Powerful police lanterns illumi- nated the one-time parking lot. Where the watchman’s shack had been, there was now only a broad, shallow hole. The reporters stopped at a canvas- covered hump in the gutter. “That’s the guy,” a Homicide Squad sergeant told them.. “Was blown elean over here by the blast!” “How about giving us a look at him?” a reporter said. “You wouldn’t want to, pal,” the ser- geant said. “It don’t sit good on the stomach. But there was enough left to identify him. I mean, there was still some clothes on what was left and a wallet jin a pocket. He’s Dan rey « earn —com ebook