5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

HE’S IN THE DEATH HOUSE born to such apparel. “Judy!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t see any light in the front part of the house, so I came right in.’ All the time he was talking his eyes were on me. They were a dark blue and looked startling against the lightness of his hair. She read the look and said: “This is Mike Foster—Cliff Reed.” He didn’t offer to shake hands. “Foster,” he repeated. “Then you’re the guy the cops are searching the town for.” What he said was news to me, but | wasn’t surprised. Nothing the cops of that town could do would have sur- prised me. Cliff Reed stepped forward and around me, and for the first time saw the body in the middle of the floor. I heard him catch his breath sharply, saw him glance at me, then at the girl. “Judy, what—” “He was there when I came in, sald. “And Foster?” He was speaking to her, but I answered. “Wrong guess, Reed. I came after she did.” His hands had long fingers like a musician’s. “This is bad—bad,” he groaned. “I’ve got to get downtown at once. terrible!” “Cliff, did you have any luck at the capital?” Judy asked. . E SHOOK his head. “No luck. The governor wouldn’t listen. Without new evidence—’ “But I’ve got new evidence!” she ex- claimed and held up the package. ‘‘Mike was taking it to Peyton, only Peyton was dead. We’re going to take it over to Van Doan.” ‘Swell!’ he said, but you could tell by the way he said it that his mind was on something else. “Swell! But the cops have to know about this business here. I’ll go down and tell them, and it’s going to be tough, finding the body of their chief in your house and all.” “We could put it out in the street,” I suggested. He looked horrified. 99 she “That would This is | 89 make it worse. No, I’ll go down and tell them. You get those papers over to Van Doan as quick as you can and tell him to call the governor.” He hurried out and he certainly didn’t waste much time getting down the hall. I heard his motor start even before Judy and I were well on our way to the back door. The yard was dark and full of waver- ing shadows from the distant street lamp. The girl was still carrying the papers and she didn’t let go of them when we climbed into the big coupé. She -drove fast, even though the traffic on the boulevard was heavy. It seemed that no one in Templeton ever went to bed. I slid way down in the seat. There were cop cars out, and I didn’t want to be spotted. I wished now that_I was a long way from Templeton. Then I shot a look at the silent girl and forgot the wish. Van Doan’s house was a brick box such as mid-Western architects delight- ed in building twenty- five years ago. We pulled up in front and started along the walk. The porch light was on and so were a lot of the house lights. It looked. as if Van Doan might have company, and my eyes narrowed. The company might be cops, and I wasn’t wanting to run into any of the Templeton force at the moment. When we got up on the steps, we saw that the front door was standing wide open. We crossed and rang the bell, the girl in front. Then she uttered a little cry and, peering over her shoulder, I saw what had startled her. A man’s feet were sticking out of the door to the right, the pointed toes and extra high heels looking familiar. - I think I knew it was Van Doan before I pushed the girl aside. The body was lying directly in the doorway. It was as if the little publisher had started to come into the hall, had found the intruder waiting for him, and had begun to step back. He had evi- dently caught the door jamb in falling, for there were marks in the white paint of the woodwork and particles of white paint under his nails. The body was still slightly warm, but I couldn’t tell wheth-. oe he’d been dead for ten minutes or an our. — COMmMiIclooe S @) (C(C) im