5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

OR ONCE in his life, Inspector Pratt was: being told off—and by a slip of a girl, at that. A tiny blonde with big, blazing blue eyes. Call- ing him every name in the book, she was, and the only reason he didn’t throw her into a cell was because she called him ‘‘Daddy” too. “Daddy,” she screamed at him, “vou’re nasty! You’re stubborn! You’re a stubborn old fool!” Old fool! Sure, it did my heart good to sit there and listen to it. And all the inspector could do was yell back. “All right, so I’m mean!” he yelled. “So I’m nasty! I’m stubborn! All right! But, by heaven, no daughter of mine is going to marry a cop!” He banged his desk so hard that Kelly of homicide, across the hall, peered in and then tip-toed softly away. Maybe, I thought, I’d better be getting out, too. I stood up. The inspector whirled. “Murphy!” he boomed. “Where do you think you’re going?” I sat down again. Then he shook his finger at this slip of a girl. ‘““What’s more,” he yelled, “a 96 Officer Flannigan ra Sally Pratt patrolman! Seven years and still a patrolman!” “You’re just mean!” the girl cried. “You wouldn’t let me marry Flannigan even if he was a detective! Well, Mr. Meanie, you can’t stop me, see?” ‘I closed my eyes, waiting for the next explosion. But it didn’t come. The office grew quiet. Strangely, suddenly, suspi- ciously quiet. And then I could feel my heart bounc- ing around my liver. Sure, and this fine little girl had said the wrong thing. And Pratt knew it. “Sally,” he said, quiet-like, “you’re wrong. You're doing your father an in- justice.” Mealy-mouthed, he was. “I won’t stand in your way, Sally.” She said, “What do you mean?” “Go ahead and marry him, Sally, if that’s what you really want. Just as soon as he gets to be a detective, go ahead and marry him.” “Daddy,” she cried, “are you serious ?” “Dead serious. The minute he makes detective, you can set your wedding day.” Oh, no, you think. Nobody could do AMICLOOOLKKS (S| QO) (C(O)