Pulp Fiction, 1950 · page 108 of 132
15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 108: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis: "15 Story Detective" This is a text page from a pulp detective magazine containing prose fiction. The narrative concerns Franz Littman, a man who befriended the serial killer Bela Kiss. An Inspector reveals to Littman that Kiss faked his death—the body found was actually a young blond boy, not the dark forty-year-old Kiss himself. The Inspector notes the murderer remains at large. The passage concludes with Littman's sinister response, closing his fingers "suggestive of strangling," and reveals that thirty years later, Kiss was never found, though authorities searched major cities. The story explores themes of betrayed friendship and obsessive vengeance.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Pre 106 trate that whatever it was that had made Bela Kiss turn to him for friendship it was not grief for a faithless wife. Like the four. other women whose alcohol-pre- served faces stared up from the huge petrol drums, Madame Kiss had died while gaz- ing into a little crystal ball. Twenty-six other bodies had been found that day in the grounds surrounding the house, the magistrate added drily. The numbers meant nothing to poor Littman; one or five or twenty-six, his friend had been a monster—‘“the only real friend I ever had,” he said. i THE year that followed, it was ob- served that Littman spoke less and less, and avoided the village square. The monu- ment to Bela Kiss had been removed, of course, but Littman could not seem to get rid of the thought of it. He seemed almost to fear that Kiss might in some way, even, now, come back to claim his friendship. Yet when the newspapers first appeared with the story that Luisa Ruszt—the girl who had escaped Bela nearly five years before—had recently seen him again on a Budapest ‘street, Littman was. happy. The villagers. whispered. among them- selves, wondering at his strange reaction. A week passed, and Littman’s manner again became apathetic and fearful. Then, at the end of the second week, Inspector Resch of the Budapest Police suddenly appeared in Czinkota and sent for Litt- nai. He greeted the little man jovially. “Still feeling crushed, eh? Well, well you must not take these matters so seriously. Any- one might have such a friend. In fact,” he said, and snapped to pieces the match with which he had just lighted his cigar, “many lave had, and they are not alive to feel contaminated, as you do, my friend. In. short—you ‘are lucky. But come, - come!” he cried expansively, seeing: that - Littman was trembling, “You have ner ‘seen Bela Kiss, have you?” ay 5 age 15 Story Detective Littman's face went white. He swatlowed. “How—seen, sir?” The official laughed, “A great joke that scoundrel played. You know, after Luisa Ruszt told her story, [ went to the hos- pital in Belgrade where Kiss’s death certifi- cate was issued. [t looked like a goose chase, but with such a man one can’t ever be too certain. Luck was with me- The nurse who attended Kiss was still there. She was horrified when [told her of Kiss’s murders. ‘How could such a boy have done these terrible crimes!’ she exclaimed. “I—TI am alert, Littman. TI seized on the word. ‘Boy!’ [ said. “Bela Kiss was forty years old, tall, dark, a hooked nose—’ I described him in full. “ The upshot was simple. The patient who died in that hospital, with Kiss’s identification papers in his clothes—cleverly planted, no doubt, by that arch-fiend when the boy was wounded—was a tad of twenty, blond, gentle—everything, in short, that Kiss was: not. “And so, my dear Littman,” the In- spector concluded, “the murderer is still at large.” He paused, observing the dilated eyes and flushed countenance opposite him. “Ah, T see you are glad. You, too, want him to suffer in this world’ for his crimes!”’ He nodded, “T understand, “Ves, yes,” said Littman joyously, in terrupting, “L will bring him to you! Nev- er fear!’ and he closed his fingers to- gether with a sudden, powerful movement suggestive of strangling. That was over thirty -years ago. Franz Littman never again saw the man who murdered his trust and admiration. Nor have any of the police in any of the great cities of the world ever been able to find Bela Kiss. {f the monster is still alive, he ‘is past seventy, a lonely man with but one friend. That friend will be naive and warm-hearted ; and to him some day Bela | Kiss may show a length of green cord and a small crystal ball. There may not be time enough to call the police... . Gomicbooks “Seen” (e(0)