Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine November 1967 [antikvár]

THE UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE MISSIONHe was a good man, but this job must be his last. They had sent him to a place where only dead men came back!by ROBERT W. ALEXANDERIT WAS NEARLY ten in the morning when the maid perfunctorily wheeled the linen cart to the door of room 516. She knocked twice with no reply before inserting the pass key and opening the door.The maid did not scream, she gasped. The man sprawled in the doorway to the bath, clad in the bottom half of pajamas as though surprised while shaving. He was obviously dead. He had been shot through the head and the emerging bullet had left a gaping hole that destroyed the bridge of his nose and both eyes.The assistant manager of the hotel immediately called the police. The detective sent from homicide, Sergeant Merle Rodale, expected another routine murder investigation, until, when he stoopedbeside the coroner, he thought he recognized the victim.Sergeant Rodale clenched a fist as he stood up. The laboratory men he had arrived with were busily going over the room; the photographer was shooting pictures."Obviously shot," the coroner said drily. "Death came about two hours ago. Check with me later. It's all I can say now.""Don't remove the body yet," Merle Rodale said, striding towards the door.He had a quick decision to make, but he decided nothing would be lost by letting the lab boys continue. However, he felt sure any investigation would . be taken out of the Los Angeles police hands. He asked the nervous