Married to Murder and Other Stories by Norman A. Daniels
Married to Murder – Wealthy Dan Adair had ideas about the murder of his brother, but when he married the suspected killer, folks wondered if he was mad!
Married to Murder and Other Stories by Norman A. Daniels (1905–1995), a collection of classic crime stories and novelettes by one of the most prolific of pulp mystery writers.
Murder By Proxy (1946) – When his father dies in a murder trap, Ray Harmon turns his camera into a fearsome Nemesis for an underworld Big Shot!
Lair of Wanted Men (1941) – Detective Ed Curtis met death’s delivery when he followed his killer quarry to the Lair of Wanted Men
Murderer’s Fee (1936) – Why Was It that Dr. Evans, of the Coroner’s Office, Found Clues That Crack Dicks of the Homicide Squad Couldn’t See? A three chapter novelette.
Married to Murder (1949)- Wealthy Dan Adair had ideas about the murder of his brother, but when he married the suspected killer, folks wondered if he was mad!
Chapter I – Murder on His Mind
Chapter II – Hovering Death
Chapter III – Menace
Chapter IV – Knife in the Back
Chapter V – Mask of Guilt
Married to Murder has 5 illustrations.
Excerpt: Married to Murder
Murder on His Mind
THEY looked like any ordinary couple in a neat convertible, rolling along a country road and quite oblivious to the changing autumn colors about them, or to the sound of the sea from somewhere beyond the cliff’s edge.
Janet shivered, for it was cold enough to require a heater going and the top of the convertible up, but they were so close to their destination that it would have been foolish to stop and go through all this. Janet missed a glove, dug a hand down behind the seat cushion and ferreted out the brown glove. She shook a little rice and confetti off it.
“Danny” –she blew the confetti at him as he turned—”let’s get married every other week. It’s so much fun.”
Dan Adair laughed, patted her cheek, and when she pouted at him, he kissed her soundly with an utter disregard for the curving road they traveled.
It was an astounding thing, Danny told himself, how two such widely diversified feelings could exist at the same time in the same person. He was in love with Janet, and revolted by her. His mind had been made up for some time. If she had done what he felt only she could have—then he was bound to kill her.
“Janet,” he said “are you sure you don’t mind living at the house—that is, after what’s happened?”
“Of course not.” Janet smiled. “I’m not afraid of houses just because people have died in them. I only wish our honeymoon could be more pleasant for you, darling.”
“It’s no honeymoon at all,” he said, looking straight ahead. In a moment now they would top the ridge and he would he able to look down at the old house and the cliff—and the spot where Russ had gone to his death.
“It’s enough for me,” Janet sighed contentedly. “Just being with you.”
He wondered how she could act it out so well. Janet, the murderess! Janet, the loving newlywed. If she hadn’t lied about it, he would never have been overcome by this obsession. But Russ had been murdered. True, the police didn’t say so. They put it down as an accident. Something that might easily happen to a cripple who was confined to a wheel-chair. Even Danny might have believed this—if Janet had told the truth.
A MOMENT later they saw the house with its gables and turrets, and its widow’s walk encased in a railing and overlooking the sea. The place was almost a hundred years old, set amidst rolling countryside that ended abruptly at the cliff’s edge.
“It’s lovely!” Janet suddenly held his arm tightly. “Oh, Danny, it’s the loveliest place I’ve ever seen!”
“Russ liked it,” Danny said in a low voice.
“You can’t get over him, can you, Danny? Tell me about Russell. You’ve never really said much since he died. Before that it was Russ all the time, but only in general terms. I want to know what sort of a man he was.”
Danny could hardly believe it. Her voice was warm and tender. She could talk about the man she had murdered as though what she had done had been a kind and charitable act.
“Russ?” Danny said. “He was—just Russ. Eight years older than I. He practically raised me after Dad and Mother were killed. Then Russ got polio. It left him a wheel-chair cripple and I took over. We had plenty of money. Since his death, his share has become mine. We’re quite wealthy, Janet.”
She nodded. “I assumed as much, though it really doesn’t matter. How long shall we live here, Danny?”
“Does it make any difference?” he asked.
“Only that—perhaps I could help do something that might free a too vivid memory of Russ from your mind. I know how much you loved him, and what he thought of you.”
“How did you know that?” he interrupted roughly.
“Why, from what you’ve told me, of course. Let’s not talk about it now. I can’t talk any more now. My heart is too full of—yes, gladness. Because Russell’s death shouldn’t affect us, Danny.”
Excerpt From: Norman A. Daniels. “Married to Murder and Other Stories.”
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