5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

Inspector Pratt—the fat slob—hadn't reckoned on Murphy when he said no daughter of his would marry a mere cop! THE LITTLE SLEEP By PHILIP WECK that. Nobody would deliberately keep a man down just to stop a wedding. No? Come around sometime and meet _my fine old friend, Inspector Pratt. The slob. | “And now,” he said, “the commission- er wants me.” So he walked out. The girl sat there, quiet, and I sat there with my nose in the regulations book, trying to memorize it. Not for long. Pretty soon I heard her behind my chair. “Murphy,” she said, “what’s that fat slob up to?” I should tell her? I should break her cute little heart ? Not Murphy. I got up, too. “Maybe he means it,” I lied. I put my arm around her shoul- der. “Maybe he’s changed his mind.” I tucked her under the chin. “Besides, you shouldn’t call him a fat slob—even if he is.” Sure, and the doorknob had to click right then. There was the inspector, in : : “You!” Inspector Pratt the doorway, glaring at us. In five min- bellowed. “Come eut utes he’d seen the commissioner? With the commissioner in Florida? with your hands up!” 97 Conn IOO S (C(O)