5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

KILLER COP came out in his shirt sleeves, snatching at a shoulder holster. Ed grabbed the wrist, slugged Heston once, twisted around with his back to Heston, and bent over. Past did it. The gun went flying; Heston screamed. Ed marched him into the living room where Souder had turned on the lights and a frightened woman stared at them, her eyes wider than they’d been before, her face pale. “It’s you!” she cried. “Thank heaven. I thought it was George.”’ Heston wasn’t thankful. “What gives?” he demanded. “What are you, a couple of divorce cops?” “We’re solving a murder, Lieutenant,” Ed told him. “Hah!” he cried. “You’d better have it down pat.” 3 Ed said quietly, “It is pat, Lieutenant. Should I tell you?” Heston shrugged. “Go ahead.” So Ed told him. “Look, the man who killed Frank Enright was a stranger around here; the neighbors didn’t recog- nize him. Yet he was sneaking between the houses that back on this alley. It. could have been you, Lieutenant, leaving this place in a hurry because George Bland came home when you didn’t ex- pect him. “Frank Enright was killed because he couldn’t produce the money he’d taken in a holdup of Big Bill Moroni’s hand- book, and the man who killed him was in on the holdup with him and knew the layout of the handbook. It could have been you, Lieutenant. You’d visited that book every week to collect your graft money. “The man who killed Enright disap- peared over the back yard of this house. That could have been you, too, because you know this house pretty well by now. And the killer knew where I lived. He tried to ambush me that same night.” “It could have been me, sure,” Heston said. “But how are you going to prove it? How are you going to make it stand up in court?” Captain Souder answered him. “We’ll find a way, Joe. Ballistics, maybe. Or anaes we can persuade this woman to ta bse She’d been watching and listening, 59 standing near the bedroom door, wear- ing only a transparent slip that dropped lower with each deep, frightened breath she took. Peering from one of them to another. “Sure,” she said suddenly, her voice shrill. “Sure, I’ll prove it.” She stepped toward the captain, tot- tering, and she seemed to stumble. But she kicked instead—at a gun. Heston’s gun, lying on the living-room rug, where it had fallen. “Grab it, Joe!” she cried, “Grab it! Quick!” He did. Before either Ed or the cap- tain could move, he had scooped it up and whirled on them. “Okay,” ‘he said. “Okay, wise guys.” He leveled the gun at them. “What are you going to do now, Joe?” Captain Souder asked calmly. “What am I going to do? I’m going to get out of town, that’s what. And I’m going to take that fifty grand with me. Where is it, McGinley?” _' Ed McGinley said, “I don’t know.” “The hell you don’t!” Heston shifted the gun so that it bore directly on Ed. “Frank Enright pitched it over the fence when you cornered him, see? He went back there when I released him, and it was gone. He thought I’d grabbed it— yeah, I was the second fellow you chased. You caught us as we were just going to split it up. “Frankie thought I had it and he wait- ed around here the next night and tried to plug me. But I got him first. Then I went back there, where you’d picked him up. And what do I find, McGinley? I find you’d been there before me, nosing around with your flashlight. He saw you, the guy who lives there..... Where’s that money, McGinley ?” “I don’t know,” Ed said again. | os McGinley, I could put a slug right between your eyes, see? I missed you twice before when I thought you might have recognized me, before I realized you couldn’t have. But I won’t miss this time.” “What are you going to do to me, Joe?” Souder asked. “IT could kill you both, easy. I could write it off, blame it on George Bland. The jealous husband, see? The fellow MICLOO (CO) S (C(O)