15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

86 Wilson’s paper, but couldn’t quite do it. The elevator bell rasped. Kenny didn’t move, so George called to him, “You'd better catch that, hadn’t you?” The bellhop jumped, grinned sheepish- ly and got in the cage. Ball watched the indicator climb to 7, stop, and float back to the lobby. Laura’s husband stepped out, walked past the desk. He was a big man, very blond, with good shoulders; carried him- self like he was going somewhere. Ball followed him with his eyes until Palmer straight-armed one of the big double doors and disappeared. HE buzzer. on the switchboard came to life, one bright, white light showing in the bank of holes. George didn’t want to answer it. He didn’t want to hear her voice. The buzzing continued, and he saw Kenny looking at him. Trapped, he went to the board and plugged in, said, “Desk.” She said, “George!” “This is the desk, Madam.” “George, I’ve got to see you!” His mouth was dry. He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see her hus- band coming back. He wasn’t that lucky. He said: “ Yes—what is it, Laura?”’ She said, “I have to see you, George. Right away. Can you come up here?” His hands were shaking. He said, “No, Laura. I can’t leave the desk.” There was a moment’s silence on the wire; then she sobbed, “George, please! ‘He’s going to be gone for an hour. I want to talk to you. Please!” George didn’t answer. He pulled the plug and let it slip down in home position. The banks of blank holes stared at him like dead, accusing eyes. The light over 726 flashed-on again, then off, then on. He disconnected the buzzer. The light kept flashing. Finally, his fingers punched the plug into the connection. “For heaven’s sake, Laura,” he cried, 15 Story Detective “be reasonable!’ Before she could work on him any more, he'd broken the connec- tion—shut his eyes to the flashing light. He opened them. It was still there. He stood up wearily, stumbled to the counter. Kenny was back in his chair, Ball said, “Hey, Kenny—think you can watch the board for a minute?” “Sure, Mr. Rall.” George mumbled that he'd be right back, stepped into the cage and angrily punched the button for the seventh floor. He leaned his head against the cool metal. He didn’t move until the elevator bounced to a stop. He got out, walked down the dimly lighted corridor to her room, knocked. “Come in, George.” The knob was wet in his hand. He didn’t know what he expected when he opened the door. Laura to run to him with open arms? Or just sit there look- ing at him as though he were a cockroach? He did expect her to be alone. His muscles crawled when he saw she wasn’t. Laura sat at the dressing table, the light behind her. She wasn’t looking at George at all, but at the man. George knew why, before he’d taken a step into the room. He saw the gun, heard Laura cry, ‘“No— don’t!” Her scream was something George felt, like the cracking impact of the shots. The man turned, as Laura sprawled off the dressing-table stool. His back was to the light, his face almost masked by shad- ows. He was covering Ball. “Lie down on the floor,” he said quietly. If he’d told Ball to stay on his feet, there would have been an argument. George’s knees bent and he grovelled on the carpet, dazed, sick. He saw large feet pass his eyes. A heavy object dropped a few inches from his hand, and the door slammed shut. George raised his head, saw the butt of a revolver. He grabbed it and threw him- self at the door. » When he got to the hall, the fire door Gomichboo CS ico