5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

THIS WILL SLAY YOU other employee—and doing it in front of a roomful of surtax society. “Mike!” he squawked. “Have you gone crazy?” 3 O’Hanna rubbed his knuckles pleas- urably. “Wait and hear my side of it! I wasn’t the first one who interrupted Rocky Squale in 6387 tonight. Fencer got there ahead of me. Rocky jumped into the bathroom when he heard him at the door. Then I came along, and Fencer ducked into the clothes-closet. When Rocky and I tangled, it was Fencer who turned out the lights and buffaloed me with a gun.” The agency dick sat up, nursing his eye. “You are crazy, guy.” O’Hanna denied it. “If you’d come in from the hallway—the window was open—half the feathers would have blown outside. There wasn’t one pin- feather in the corridor. That proves you were in the room all the time, doesn’t it?” Aghast, Endicott puzzled lamely, “But did he—” “That seventy-five-cent grapefruit went to his head,” O’Hanna said. “He wanted the credit for capturing Rocky. He figured a few simple solutions like that one would slip him inside my shoes here.” “And you let him—” “For the time being. Rocky hadn’t found anything or he wouldn’t have stayed there playing pillow games until he got caught at it.” O’Hanna shrugged. “I was after the killer, not the also- rans.” : “Thanks,” Rocky said gloomily. “Thanks for the compliments. At that, I guess you throw the weight around here.” O’Hanna suggested, “If you’ve got a load on your mind—” “Well”—the blue-complexioned man hesitated— “he said if I’d play ball with him there wouldn’t be any rap for de- stroying hotel property.” O’Hanna said he was more interested in why Rocky had destroyed it. “I was hunting for evidence that might be worth five or ten grand,” Rocky said. “You don’t know who Kitty Beale was, I bet?” “Don’t let me stop you,” said O’Han- na. 73 Rocky grinned. “She was Mrs. Ward Tolan. Hell, they’ve been in the racket for years. Tolan peddles bonds for a front, is all. His real business is mak- ing plays for rich married dames. When he hooks one, Kitty steps in and threat- ens to sue for a divorce. She’s got snap- shots, letters, the works. She wants five or ten grand for a quiet settlement, else she’ll sue for alienation of affections. The dames are scared of the husband, so Kitty collects—or she used to.” O’Hanna’s Irish-blue glance roved. “Where’s Tolan?” “Gone!” Endicott gasped. “If you’d given me back my glasses,” Fred Fencer expostulated, “this wouldn’t have happened. I’d have watched him. I could have told you he committed that murder.” O’Hanna thrust the glasses at him. “Come on!” They ran into the hall. “Stairs,” O’Hanna said, heading toward them. “How did you figure, Fencer?” “It’s cold, boy, cold. Tolan’s in love with Charlotte Cobb. His wife stood in the way. He doped out how he could get rid of Kitty, pin the job on Cobb, and marry a million bucks.” “They don’t act like any two people in love I ever saw.” “They’re trying hard not to.” O’Hanna took two steps at a time. “It’s a theory.” “Fact,” Fencer said. He was running out of breath. “Kitty thought—same old shakedown. Rocky, too! He was watching—his chance—steal the snap- shot and love letters. Rocky saw—Palo- mar Room—how it worked.” “How did it?” “Five o'clock. Tolan—took powder— said a phone call. He beat it—elevator. Back in five minutes.” “Take a deep breath,” urged. “He’d stolen—Charlotte’s room key. Met Kitty there. Cobb—next room— too drunk to know.” “But Charlotte says she was still there.” “Lie. Lie for anybody she loves, she would.” They rounded into the sixth-floor cor- ridor. “Is this the lowdown,” O’Hanna asked, “or are you—” “It’s on the level.” O’Hanna AMICLOOO@ @) (C(O) mM