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Full text of "Ellery Queen 001"

THE WORLD'S GREATEST DETECTIVE 

-SLLERY 



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10c 



^ Vengeance From The Grave 

the come 

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The Legion of The, 
THE CHAIN LETTER MURDERS 












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CASH 

PRIZES 

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DOHTVARE 

' «.S5 THE ■irSA^CT 
STDOY OF... 





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COPYRIGHT 1952 BY APPROVED COMICS, INC. 
COPYRIGHT UNDER INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT CONVENTION 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
ELLERY QUEEN, Vol. 1, No. 1, January, February & March 1952, published quarterly by Approved Comics, Inc., 2 Main Street, 
Bridgeport, Conn, snd 185 N. Wabash Ave., Chicago 1, 111. Executive and Editorial Office, 366 Madison Ave., New York 17, 
N. Y. Application for second class entry pending at Bridgeport, Conn. Single copies 10<S. Subscription rates: In the U. S., Canada, 
Mexico, South and Central America and U. S. Possessions SI. 20 foi 12 issues: in ;:\\ other counli-i™ 32.20 f»v 12 issues. All com- 
munications about subscriptions should be addressed to the Circulation Department, 185 N. Wabash Ave., Chicago 1, III. The Pub- 
lisher is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts or art work. Manuscripts or art work accompanied by self -ad dressed stamped 
envelopes will be returned. No similarity between any of the names, characters, persons and/or institutions appearing in this maga- 

PRINTED IN U.S.A. 




Iaushtbz amp gaiety are m orpez at the 

SKTHPAy PARTY HICK CARPONI'S MOBSTERS 
HAVE THROWN fOR THEIR CHIEF... 



GO AHEAP/ BICW IHIIf OKAY, YOU GUYS. 
OUT THE CAMPLES, HUL LEM/HE THINK OF 
BOSS.' S ~N SO/METHIN' 

^Then MAKE A GOOP TO , 
A WISH.' 1 WISH FOR/ 




/ SOMEBOPY ^ 

I GIT "POC" J 

S TYNPALL < 

I QUICK/ ) 




As BEFITS A DEPARTED GANGLAND CHIEF, NICK HAS 
AH ORNATE FUNERAL.' AND AMONG THE GUESTS... 



BRANNISAN.' 
YOU GOT A 
NERVE. ..COMIN' 
TA NICK'S 
FUNERAL / 



/vomw DOIA/V , 

lit WANT NO PART , 
OF A MOB WITH 
A CUKS£ ON IT/ 




The office of inspector queen 
at police headquarters... 



THE WHOLE TOWN KNOWS IT WAS 
BRANNISAN WHO PULLEP THAT 

CUTE TRICK ON NICK CARPONI, 
PAP/ HOW CO«\i YOU HAVEN'T 

CRACKEP POWN ON BRANNISAN? 




BUT ACCORDING TO THE 
RUMORS THAT ARE FLYIN6, 
NICK WON'T NEEP THE LAW 
TO AVENSE HIS AtURPER/ 
HE'S SWORN TOC 
BACK FKO/m Tff£ 
GRAVE ANP SETTLE 
WITH HIS < 
ENEMIE 
HIMSELF/, 

INTERESTING.' 




JMeANWHILE/A LOWLY WHARF HEAR 
BRAHN/GAWS HEADQUARTERS .' 

ATO.'NO.'... IT- IT CAN'T BE/ 
K-KBEPAWAY FROM ME, 

CARDOAt// 




SO W31TRE POSITIVE ) THE BOYS ARE SCAREP/ 
CARPONI'S CHOST J AN', FRANKLY, SO A* 1/ 
HAS COME TO ^^ THEY SAY HE'S CONNA 
WORK ON yOUR^ WIPE US OUT.ONE BY ONE/ 




IT'S TOO EARLY FOR US TO ANSWER THAT 
ONE, BRANNIGAN/ HOWEVER, AS A CITIZEN, 
LAW-ABIDING OR NOT, YOU HAVE A RIGHT 
TO COME TO THE POLICE FOR 
PROTECTION/ EXACTLY WHAT 
DO YOU WANT FROM US? S A POLICE 

GUARP/ I GOT 
MY RIGHTS/ 





M6£T TOMMY THE 
SWAM/. INSPECTOR/ 
TAKE IT FROM ME, 1 
THIS MUG IS STRICTLY 
ON TH' UP- AW- UP/ V 


\ you 

/SPEAK 
TO THE 
PEAR 

EH? J 


\ P-CEAC* PLEASE, 
\ INSPECTOR .'DON'T 
MENTION CORPSES 
/ TO ME/ IVE A WEAK 

{ 5TOMACH/ ^ 




'J 


Sf 








suv TV 





Z5» ZOOM'S LIGHTS FADE. 
THERE IS AN EXPECTANT- 
HUSH... 



S-SPIRIT OF 



NICK CARDONI.. 
y-yOU ARE IN TH' ROOM ... 
C6ULPJ...MAKE YOUR- 
SELF KN-KNOWN... 




/r CONDENSES INTO A FACE THAT IS A SNARLING 
GRIMACE OF MATE/ 



BRAD 8KAIV/V/GAIV... 
RAT.' I'VE COME 
FROM BEYO/VO W 
GRAVE m GtrEI/EA/.' 





THERE'S SOMETHING BRANNIG 
HAS HOI TO FIND OUT FOR 
HE'S DRIVING STRAIGHT TO 
CEMETARY WHERE CARDON1 
IWS BURIED/ WANT TO _ 
BET, DAD/ J 


AN 

SURE/ 

THE 


Rfc*« _J 


BPJB t^M YOU'RE ', 
HH RIGHT, 1 
■k ELLERy/jfl 






■■■7 








A, 





THEY'RE CARRYING SHOVELS 
INTO THE GRAVE YARD/ IS 
BRANNIGAN TURNING GHOUL? 





CSASP/) CARDOHI.' S-BUT 
THAT CAKE I HAP FIXED 
UP SPECIAL FER YOU... 
IT WAS SUPPOSED T 
HAVE KILLED YOU ' 



IT WAS EASY TA BRIBE 'DOC" 
TYNDALL INTO FAKIN& A DEATH 
REPORT AND STAGING A PHONY 
FUNERAL/ THAT'S WHY I HAP 
TO KILL THE-fOC... HE KNEW 
TOO MUCH/ 




y'SEE, I'D BEEN WANTIN' TO OUIT 
TH' RACKET FER A LONG TIME, AN' 
PULL A FADE/8UT I WAS IN PRETTy 
BOP...H0r BOYS NEVER WOULP HAVE 
LET ME PULL OUT WITH TH' BOOPLE 
AN' A WHOLE SKIN/ yER BOMBING 
(SAVE ME MY CHANCE 



THEN- WHY DIDN'T 
yA JUST TAKE " 
SAVINGS AN' 
BEAT IT* 




R£V£ll/Ge.'\tO ONE TRIES TO BLOW NIC 
TA BITS AN' SITS AWAy WITH IT/ I PUT 
SOME PHOSPHORUS ON My FACE ...AN' 
STUCK AROUND TA SIT EVEN WITH 




YOU WON'T &ET 1 


-! ft ; '■''" £ 








■SK4I 





NICK CARBONI- /MOBSTER- WHO 
CAME BACK FRCm THE PEAP TO ' 
KILL... WILL HEVEH KILLASAIN.' 
FOR THIS TIME/THE CORPSE THAT . 
KIUEP" IS RCALIY PEAP.I 




MIKE MALONE had been a cop, one way 
and another, for forty years. Thirty years 
of pounding a beat on the force, ten years 
as a bank guard at the Second National. In his 
thirty years of pavement pounding for the city, 
Mike had never risen above the rank of patrolman. 
His title of guard at the bank was more of a cour- 
tesy title than anything. Although he carried, a 
gun strapped to his imposing middle, Mike's duties 
were simply to help harassed suburban matrons to 
the proper teller's window, and to direct loan 
seekers to the proper vice president. In four dec- 
ades of what he loved to refer to as "police work" 
Mike had never heard a shot fired in anger. Need- 
less to say, he had never fired his Police Special at 
anyone, friend or foe. To be truthful about it, it's 
just as well, because Mike couldn't hit the broad 
side of a barn, let alone a member of the criminal 
classes engaged in a nefarious undertaking. 

M 

Mike was a comedy cop. His. ample belly and 
bandy legs were never meant to be encased by a 
neat blue, uniform'. His feet, bunioned with the 
callouses, of forty years, moved with a flat, shuf- 
fling, yet gingery tread. They were tender and his 
walk showed it. His ammunition belt, weighted 
down by his holster, was worn in the manner made 
famous by comedy sheriffs in Western movies. In 
1 summer, his shirt had a way of climbing up out of 
his trousers, giving him the appearance of being 
one of the less presentable members of the Russian 
G.P.U. Mike's superiors on the city police force 
had early in his career .reached the conclusion that „ 



his greatest field of usefulness consisted in guiding 
school children across the street. At the bank, the 
most glowing tribute on his personnel record read: 
"His appearance leaves much to be desired. Re- 
flexes slow. Old ladies seem to like him." 

In his private life, Mike had two loves — his 
grand-daughter, Kitty, and novels of detection. 
Kitty had one flaw in Mike's mind— she was al- 
ways trying to improve his appearance. On the 
other hand, such fictional heroes of the detective 
industry as Lord Peter Wimsey and Hercule 
Poirot, had no faults at all. They were sleuths 
without peer and without reproach. Mike loved 
their adventures and wished that he could be like 
them. Alas, as he himself admitted, he lacked the 
little grey cells. 

Kitty's latest assault on Mike had taken the 
form of an expensive shaving lotion which she had 
given the old man for his birthday. It was expen- 
sive, beautifully packaged, and extremely fragrant. 
As Kitty loved to say, it was exclusive. And Mike 
loved it. He never used it, he just loved it. Every 
morning, after his bath and shave, Mike would 
take the beautiful little bottle from the bathroom 
shelf, sniff it with wild abandon and vast appreci- 
ation, then sorrowfully replace the stopper and 
return the bottle to its shelf. 

"It's beautiful," he'd murmur, regretfully, "but 
it's not for the likes of me." He did think, though, 
that Hercule Poirot might have used it, and hav- 
ing used jtj Hved up to it* 



This particular day at the bank had 
quietly. It was just a few minutes of three when 
Mike smelled something utterly delicious in the 
air. It was his favorite shaving lotion. He was turn- 
ing his head to see whatever man of distinction 
used this heavenly scent when the roof fell on his 
skull and the lights went out. 



When Mike came to, he' was on a couch in the 
President's office with a compress on his head. The 
room was full of the bank's officers, policemen and 
newspapermen. From the jumble of questions shot 
at him, and the general tone of the conversation, 
Mike gathered that a swift-moving, professional 
gang of bank robbers had entered the bank at clos- 
ing time, held it up, and escaped with over 
$100,000 in cash. The men wore plain, nondescript 
clothes, and kept handkerchiefs pressed on their 
faces and their hats pulled low. Nobody could 
make any identification. The rogues' gallery photo- 
graphs of known bank robbers were useless. No one 
had really seen the men. 



His head clearing, Mike rose unsteadily to his 
feet 

"The one that socked me," he said. "He used 
Feather Heather!" 

The room was convulsed with laughter. Good 
old Mike, the Comedy Cop! But the general opin- 
ion Was that this was no time for comedy. 

"He used WHAT? " roared a Captain of Detec- 
tives. 

"Feather Heather," stuttered Mike. "It's a per- 
fume ... I mean a perfume for men ... I mean." 
Mike really had them m the aisles, now. "Look,** 



he mumbled self-consciously. "It's a shaving lo- 
tion . . t . an expensive one. I use it myself . . . that 
is, I smell it, sort of . . ." 

The Captain of Detectives said something about 
a concussion and getting the poor old buzzard to 
a hospital. 

'Feather Heather's expensive and exclusive,** 
screamed Mike. "There's only one place in town 
sells it, and at the price they charge, I'll bet they 
don't sell much of itl" 



At last Mike's message penetrated. Two men 
were dispatched, with an armful of rogues' gallery 
photographs, to the specialty shop which carried 
Feather Heather. Sure enough, not many bottles 
had been sold. Yes, the clerk had sold a bottle to 
one of the men in these photographs. This one 
here. It had been delivered and he had the — ah — 
gentleman's address on file. 

H 

The Feather Heather purchaser was at home 
with a group of his gentlemen friends when the 
police broke in. No guns were drawn, as the bandits 
had their hands full of currency, which they were 
dividing. 

Mike was a hero for a few days, and was quietly 
given a handsome reward by his employers. He 
enjoys telling Kitty that he can't ever use the 
Feather Heather now, because he associates it with 

crime and rascality, 

K 

And best of all, when he settles down of an eve- 
ning for a good read, he f^els now that he mixes 
with Lord Peter and Hercule not as a worshipper, 
but as an equal, and a somewhat critical equal, 
at that. 

THE END 



'BEGr yOUE PARVOH, yOLiN<5~ 
MAN. COVLP YOU CIRECT 
ME TO ALPEEMAN ANPE£50N'S 
OFFICE ? 





THERE SHE IS / )*<7 IOOK OUT.' ~"""5£s 

SRAB HER / r~~f THAT STREET- <«iJ 

fc^^mrtl Hfem™, «7 CAR. 'J y-Ai 




THE OFFICE OF INSPECTOR QUEEN AT POLICE 
HEADOUASTEIsi... 




MEANWHILE. THE HOTEL CLARION.. 




Later. 





ElLERY AND THE /A/SPECTOR. ENTER THE ROOM 
TO OBSERVE... 




THOSE WET FOOTPRINTS LEP TO 
THIS ROOM, RIGHT? ANP HE 
ADMITS HE' LEFT THE. IRON-LUNS.. 




THEN, THERE'S THAT S/MASHED I ... ESPECIALLY, IF HE 
WINDOW. IT COUIO HAVE /ORDINARILY NEEPEP 
BEEN BROKEN BY THE f^S THE AIL? OF AN IRON- 
MURDERER AFTER THE if LUNS FOE SUFFICIENT 
CRIME... IP HE WERE 
PE5PERATELY IN 
NEED OF FRESH 
OXY6EN 



ENRISHT, I'M SOIN& TO 
ARREST YOU FOR THE 
MURDER OF TOMMY 
RYAN/ WHY DID YOU J 
DO IT ?^_FT"-MfjZj 


) I HAVE NC 
J TO SAY, E 
fe. IT'S BE 

■■"^J THIS 


)THIN<? 
XCEPT 
7T£R, « 

WAY' M 


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BOB... IN PANSEK? BUT THAT'S 
IMPOSSIBLE/ HE'S JUST HAP THE 
MOST WONDERFUL LUCK— A 
GOOD JOB AFTER' HAVING 
BEEN UNEMPLOYED FOR 
/MONTHS 




BUT BEFORE BROMLEY CAN ACCOMPLISH HIS 
FIENDISH DESIGN... ELLERY ARRIVES... 




WELL.. THERE'S Ml WjFE'S-) CHALMERS. 

FOBWER BOSS, TODD 

CHALMERS. HE WAS 

PRETTy UPSET WHEN 

SHE /MARRIEP ME. 

SWORE HE'D GET 

EVEN 




That evening... 

bertha..a5 soon as i 
hearp of so0's unfortunate 
peath, i hurriep right 

OVER.' I WANT you TO 
KNOW THAT PESPJTE ALL 
THAT'S HAPPENEP, I'LL 
TAKE yOU BACK. 




tiu*Y amuses to the cuff's 

BOSS, APPARBNTLf SUICIPE-miNPEP. 




YOU RAT/ WATCHING THE PARADE 
OF WOULD- BE SUICIDES WHO CAME 
TO >DU FOR HELP, YOU DECIDED 

TO CASH IN ON THEIR MISERy.' 




PROBABLY YOU WERE RAID BY A POLITICAL 
RIVAL OF ANDERSON'S FOR HIS DEATH. 
SOLLV yOGURK PAID FOR THE MURDER, 

OF TOMW RXAN. TODD CHALMERS, „. 

OF COURSE, PAID FOR THE ATTEMPTED^ 
KILLING OF EOS DOWLING/ 

■~-~— ~- 



YOU USED THESE UNFORTUNATES AS 
KILLERS WITHOUT PAy IN A SORT OF 
MURDER, INCORPORATED SET-UP WITH 
CAIN - LETTERS- OF - DEATH TRIMMINGS / II 
SOMEONE WANTED ANOTHER PERSON 
KILLED AND WERE WILLING TO PAy WELL 
FO.K THE DEED, yOU WOULD MAIL A SO- 
CALLED CHAIN- LETTER TO ONE OF yoUR 
PUPES AND HE WOULD ' COMM IT THE 
MuftVBK UNDER THE FALSE I 
HE WAS KILLING ANOTHER MEMBER 
THE "LEGION WHO WANTED TO PIE/, 



; impression 
: of 



n 




THE OLP LADy WHO KILLEC ANPERSON 
WANTEC TO PIE BECAUSE. OF HER INCURABLE 
AIL/WENT. ENKLGHT COULCN'T FACE CONTINUING 
TO SPENP THE REST OF W5 WRETCHEP 
LIFE IN AN IRON-LUNS. CHANCES ARE/ 
BROMLEY'S BUSINESS WAS SUFFERING 
IRREPARABLE FINANCIAL, REVERSES ANP HE 
PIPN'TCARE TO LIVE- IF HIS BUSINESS 
AP5EP... 




YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR 
YOUR CRIMES IN A COURT 
OF JUSTICE .' 




TURN OFF THEM LIOHTS 

I'LL TALK 

I'LL TALK! ) OH, you 




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OUR 34TH YEAR