5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

94 Then he crossed the room quickly and put an arm around Judy’s shoulders. Smith had a faint trace of a smile on his lips. “Okay, Foster, it’s your party.” I felt a little like a high school boy making a first speech. I looked at Kate. “Listen, pal,” I said, “you told me tonight that the band had a share in an oil well that came in. Who gave them that share?” “Charley Garron,” she said. I turned to the band boys. right?” Each nodded his head dumbly. “Why?” I shot at them. “Why should Garron go around giving you boys a ne Did he gamble with you? Did e— One of the boys hesitated, glancing at Martin from the corner of his eyes. “I—we—we played at his wedding. He gave it to us then.” I shot a quick glance at Judy. Her face was the picture of amazement. “Who'd he marry?” I asked quickly. “Me. Anything wrong with that?” Kate stepped forward to face me, her “That He DIDN’T Knock He thought it would be [EP a fun to walk in on the couple’s loving, but when he entered their bedroom—he_ van- ished! YOU'LL DIE LAUGHING by Bruce Elliott is only one of three sensation-packed novels in the Summer Issue of e TRIPLE DETECTIVE e TRIPLE DETECTIVE e TRIPLE DETECTIVE FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE eyes hot, challenging. I shook my head. “Nothing, Kate. If your husband hangs, you’ll get more | than a million from oil royalties. It might look to some as if you wanted him to hang.” She flushed, and her eyes darted around the room. “That’s a lie!” she cried. “I did every- ‘ thing I could do help him at the trial, but it was no soap. He killed Shephard, and I couldn’t save him. A girl has to look after herself.” I nodded. “Yes, a girl has to look after herself.” I was talking to Kate but I was watching Tom Martin. “So you're going to take your million and go away with another.man. Well, that would be fine—only your husband isn’t guilty, and he isn’t going to hang.” She stared at me, not believing it, then she started to say something. I stopped her with a motion of my hand and faced Reed. “Did you know that Garron was mar- ried?” I asked the lawyer. ~ He hesitated a little. He shouldn’t have, for Judy Carron was watching him with a peculiar expression. “Did you?” I persisted. “All right, I did.” He sounded sullen. “But it was my’client’s business. Char- ley Garron asked me not to tell, not even Judy. I’m not in this, Foster. If you’re trying to suggest that I’m planning to go away with Kate, you’re crazy.” I shook my head. “No, Reed, I know who killed Shephard. I’ve known it for some time. I know who killed the police chief, and why: The chief was think- ing for himself, refusing to take further orders. I know what Tom Martin’s part in the whole mess was, too. He was trying to cover up for somebody else— somebody he likes.” I had Van Doan’s gun in my hand, pointing it at Smith, who, oddly enough, had slapped on his hat. “The game’s up, Petie. Look at your shoe. You stepped in some pitch out at the Garron place. You left tracks there and in Van Doan’s hall.” Even as I spoke, I realized that Kate’s picture had disappeared from his desk. He ripped open his desk drawer, for- COMmMiICcloooe (”) S (Cl! QO) im