5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 stairs and call the coroner? It’s a hot day. He'll want to get that body in the morgue icebox. .. .” Coroner Clarence Liebert was a happy little man. He looked as though he sold something—real estate, insurance. He was built like a medicine ball. He showed at the Rancho Club wearing a baggy seersucker suit and a Panama hat. Where his arms and legs hooked on, the suit had accordion pleats, looked damp. He smelled. He clucked importantly when he saw Doris Mellani. He asked a few perti- nent questions regarding the girl’s iden- tity, listened passively as Lucky Starr repeated the story of the girl coming to see him about a job and so forth. The coroner backed his station wagon to the side door of Starr’s hacienda, lowered the tail-gate. The sheriff and his deputy loaded the girl’s body for him. Tufts pulled out shortly afterward, The last thing he said to Kelly was, “We'll see what’s in the coroner’s autop- sy report.” 3 Kelly nodded, went into the house. Starr had finally walked himself out; was slumped in a big chair, looking thor- oughly beat. Kelly didn’t blame him. On top of everything else, the old man prob- ably had a sensational hangover. “Well,” Kelly said, trying to sound cheerful and optimistic, “I think we’re going to be all right. The sheriff’s on our side, anyway, and I don’t look for trou- ble from that coroner.” Starr raised his eyes wearily ; sighed, “T can see you're a great judge of char- acter, Wilson.” He rose slowly and start- ed across the room to the stairs. He stopped, turned to Kelly standing in the center of the room. “If anyone asks for me during the next twenty-four hours” —he grinned narrowly—“tell them I just left for Florida.” He went on up to his bedroom. As Kelly left the top of the hill, he could hear happy shrieks and splashes from the pool, which sounded like a good idea. He felt hot, sticky, miserable. He could use a few fast lengths of the pool FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE to stretch the kinks out, and a little bak- ing in the desert sun. It wouldn’t, he de- cided, exactly devastate his morale, either, to look at a few female bodies which were living. After all the years he had been a homicide inspector in Los Angeles, death—violent death—always left a lousy taste. He hurried to his room and changed into his bathing trunks. After a swim, Kelly Wilson spent a routine day. He checked the new arriv- als, looked over the situation in the casi- no, settled a couple of small rhubarbs be- tween guests and the help and passed the word that the old man wasn’t to be ex- pected off his hill. He didn’t go into why Starr was suddenly so exclusive. No one in the hotel knew about Doris Mellani, which was jolly as far as Kelly was con- cerned. 3 Kelly was watching the play around the crap tables when he happened to look up, and saw the old man moving through the crowd. His blue-white hair shone like a halo in the thick, haze of tobacco smoke, his eyes were intent. He wasn’t counting the house. Kelly managed to get to Lucky’s elbow, say, “Is anything wrong, Mr. Starr?” Starr shook his head, said, “No— nothing,” and kept going. There was another old boy a step or two behind him. Kelly got out of their way. He recognized Starr’s companion. Myron Chase, a local big wheek Chase’s family had once owned most of Las Palmas county He’d been smart about the desert. He’d promoted the county seat into a resort town and made plenty, selling the sand dunes as city lots. Then he’d attracted Starr down there to brighten the other end of the valley. H® WAS a leathery gaffer, like Starr. Not as much hair, and what was left was a faded red. Kelly watched the two of them make their way through the ca- sino to Lucky’s office door -They went inside. Over in the corner of the room, Kelly heard two jackpots spill, one after the other. The crowd MICLOO (C(O) cS