5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

68 need is a good, ugly, homicidal impulse.” - Endicott looked inimensely . cheered. Fencer watched the assistant manager, and took his cue from Endicott’s expres- sion, apparently. “There’s no argument,” he declared flatly. He removed his glasses and breathed on them leisurely, managing to look cocksure as hell. “The girl was alive at four-thirty when he invited her upstairs. Half an hour later, she was dead in his clothes closet. He’s the only one who could have done the deed.” Assistant Manager Endicott nodded. It needed no crystal ball to read his thoughts, either. He felt sorry for Char- lotte Cobb, of course. But after all, Cobb was a rotter who drank and ca+ roused and disgraced the upper classes. The best people didn’t approve of Le- land Cobb and wouldn’t resent his being locked up. So the publicity couldn’t— hurt the hotel, particularly. Fencer polished the spectacles with his handkerchief. “The rest is easy. He’d killed her, but how was he going to get rid of the body? And even if he carried the body out, or threw it from the window at night, he was probably worried about bloodstains on his carpet. Well, he got the drunken idea of calling Room Service for some catsup. He thought he could make a gag of the whole thing, and pretend to be surprised as hell when we found a genuine corpse there. But the big thing, he could sprinkle the catsup around and cover up the bloodstains on his carpet.” O’Hanna said stubbornly, “Maybe.” Fencer laughed. “Forget that motive angle. The girl was a schoolma’am, and pretty strait-laced. Cobb made a pass at her, she cold-shouldered him, and he got sore. Why, I’ve seen drunks pick a fight Just because someone refused to have a drink with them. Or because they didn’t like another guy’s looks.” He hooked his glasses onto his ears, and gave O’Hanna a patronizing glance. “It happens all the time,” he said. “Half the murders in this country are committed by drunks acting on impulse. They grab a gun or a shive and let the victim have it.” O’Hanna spread his muscular, tanned hands and said, “But he grabbed an ice- pick.” FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE “So what?” “So he had an ice-pick,” O’Hanna said. : Fencer. didn’t follow the logic. “TI still say so what?” O’Hanna shrugged. “People don’t generally carry them in their pants pockets. Room Service doesn’t supply ice-picks with orders of tomato catsup. Are you trying to tell me that Cobb knew in advance he was going to have a homicidal impulse, so he brought an ice- pick with him?” That stopped Fencer. “Well-l,” he hesitated. ! “It shows premeditation,” O’Hanna said. “And how could Cobb premeditate the murder of a girl he’d never even met yet?” “It’s a detail,” Fencer admitted, with- out enthusiasm. “Sure, Mike. It’s just a detail.” Endi- cott moistened his lips, ran a hand over his thinning hair. “Don’t worry about it. Fencer will have all those little angles cleared up when you get back, two weeks from now.” : O’Hanna’s Irish-blue eyes whetted down to blued steel slits. “When I— Huh?” The assistant manager said, “We won't let it spoil your vacation. You’ve been overworked lately, Mike. You need a rest, a change of scenery.” “A brush-off is a brush-off,” O’Hanna said dangerously, “in any kind of lan- guage.” OLOR climbed in Endicott’s thin face. He warned, “Now, Mike! You’re not going to turn this perfectly simple murder into a mystery. Good Lord, you know what Gleeson will do, if anybody gets him to thinking about this ice-pick angle.” He perspired. “Why, that dumb county sheriff would come down on San Alpa’s neck with both feet. He’d turn the hotel inside out. Our paying guests’ personal affairs wouldn’t be safe from his third-degree methods. We might just as well try to run a re- sort inside a police station!” O’Hanna said there were worse places than police stations. “Morgues, for- in- stance.” “There won’t be any more trouble unless you make it,” Endicott asserted. CoOnniclooo SJ (C(O)