5 Detective Novels Magazine — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

BLOOD, SWEAT AND JEERS When swam up to Ellen, she was floating lifelessly on the water. He got a grip on her, made for the opjfsosite bank, putting some distance between them and the car. He’d had time to think ‘about that, knew Liebert and his two punks would be down to make sure busi- ness was set to boom around the morgue. Just as he bumped against the bank, he saw flashlights start playing over the water. He swore, plunged back into the current, towing Ellen further down- stream to where willow trees overhung the water. He got there, wedged Ellen’s, unconscious body as high as he could, said, “Sorry, honey. This is the best I can do for now. I'll try to get back.” He paddled to the other side, swim- ming upstream for a short distance to- ward the lights and confusion on the bank. Then he turned on a big, splashy crawl stroke he figured would attract at- tention. A light started to bob along the shore in his direction. Kelly moved in under the bank, dug his hands into the sandy bottom to hold himself against the cur- rent. The light passed him, but Kelly got a look at the man carrying it. Sher- iff Tufts! He also seemed to have a long club in his other hand. What a county! Everybody was a killer. Kelly launched himself into the stream again, made enough splash to attract 27 Tufts back his way. He began to float on his face, giving an Academy perform- ance as a corpse. Tufts found him with the beam of his flashlight, the water around Kelly turning milky white. He flipped over, just as Tufts was about to part his hair with the end of that long club. Kelly grabbed it, threw Tufts off- balance. The sheriff crashed into the drink, Kelly on him. E WRESTLED Tuft’s revolver out of its holster before he dunked the sheriff the second time. Then he lifted Tufts out of the water by the hair on his head. Tufts gasped, sputtered, what’s wrong with you?” “Not a thing,” Kelly told him grimly, driving the sheriff onto the bank, prod- ding him with the gun. “I just hate guys who try to brain me with a fence post.” “T thought you were drowned,” ob- jected Tufts. “I was trying to fish your body out of the ditch.” As they came ashore, they could see another flashlight beam moving down the bank toward them. Kelly shoved Tufts behind an outcropping of rock, growling, “Shut up!” ' The first two guys down the path, Kelly had expected. They were Jack Terry and that hood deputy of Tufts. [Turn page] “Where— UNCLE WALTER (T SMOKES SWEET SiR WALTER RALEIGHS BLEND OF CHOICE KENTUCKY BURLEYS (S EXTRA-AGED TO GUARD AGAINST TONGUE BITE. THE LARGE SIZE CANISTER OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH—IN A BEAUTIFUL YULETIDE PACKAGE - MAKES THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT! CoOnnicoool.