15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Two's Company—tThree’s a Shroud It didn’t sound like burning love, but _then these people lived in a different world than I. He came slowly toward me as she closed the door. He didn’t look happy. I said, “That’s the body? Chum, I’ve never guarded a nicer one.” “In this case,” he said roughly, “don’t concentrate too much on, your work.” The vestibule door let in two young fellows, wearing identical tweed overcoats, who hurried into the room at the end. “The Norris Twins,” I guessed. “That just leaves Joey Moore, and _ the musicians.” Rabe “Anyone else shows tip,” said Jake, ‘keep them away frony Dawn.” “How about the manager? Don’t I even let him into his own place?” Jake made a thin: smile. “He won’t want to see her. I told him if I caught him in -her Greseing room again, I'd cave his face in.’ He went out the front end of the dingy hall, through the thick curtains. In a few minutes I heard a fanfare from _ the orchestra, with the trumpet man a shade flat. Then the floor show was on, and with those chorines hurrying out of their dressing rooms it was no place for a guy with only one head. ‘The hall emptied much too soon. The last one to leave was the little brunette. Just before she went through the curtains she gave me a nice smile. I was thinking about that when the vestibule door opened once more. This one came in fast, a short, stocky guy in a brown overcoat, with a brown hat pulled low over his eyes. I assumed he was Joey Moore. He said harshly, “Is he in there?” T said, “Who?” And a voice behind me said, “No. He’s out front.” My head whirled, and there was a second one standing ‘inside the curtain. He was short, too, but skinny, and he preferred gray. My nerves jumped alive as I came out of the chair. 17 PHEY were advancing down the hall, one from each end, and me in the middle. It was like trying to watch a fast tennis match from the net. The one in brown, coming in from my left, halted at Dawn Layne’s door. I called sharply, “Get away from there!” That was about as effective as a whisper in a windstorm, but I couldn’t go pull him away because his friend, the: Skinny one, was standing squarely in front of me with his hands in his overcoat pockets and an expression that said no. “““What’s~ the deal ?”’ (ae The skinny one laughed nervously: “He wants to know the deal, Al.” He said it like it was a big joke. It went over with me like a lead balloon: = His thin, blade-like face: had tensed. His right hand came out swiftly, and I felt the wind from the blackjack as I ducked under and butted ‘him in the stomach and ran him into the other wall. I was tugging frantically at the gun in my shoulder holster, but it felt like some- one had nailed it there. I couldn’t keep that up. His blackjack chopped at me, and as I dodged it landed on my left shoulder. It felt like a ton of oe cement, My breath gushed with ‘the pain. I hit him im the face. He swurig with both hands. We were banging around inside that narrow hall like a pair of berserk ping pong balls, and he had all the best of it. The one in brown, Al, pounded toward us. I kicked my chair at him, and he went down in a tangle. I kept wondering where the hell everyone was, but I was too busy to go looking for them. Then Al’s friend finally found the top of my head with his little leather-coated sleeping pill. I rolled with it, and didn’t go completely out, but wished J had. An ache tore through me, top to bettom. As my nose tried to bore a hole through the carpet I Gomichbooks (E) ead