10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

42 seemed to be going wrong in the Herrick household this morning, even the hot water. I strolled back into the bedroom, got out my sports jacket, and started to change. Ié was only when I went to change my keys from one pocket to another that I fished out the forgotten celluloid hair- pin, There in jhe full light of the room something about it suddenly caught my eye. The tips pointing toward the scaip were covered with something that seemed to be slightly red. It looked perhaps like dried red ink. It could have been hair dye. But standing there in the center of the room in the brightness of the sunlit morning. k was pretty darned sure it was plain, ordinary human blood! A bellow from the hall interrupted my pondering, A voice, deep, resonant, but slightly raucous—a voice powerful yet pleasant—issued from the downstairs haliway. Fiverybody in Miami who has ever been to a nightclub, a prizefight, a jai-lai match, or a horse race knows that voice as well aa his own. Once heard, it is never forgotten. Mark Murray, Miami homi- cide chief and general man-about-town, was ite proud owner. I breathed a sigh of relief when | heard it. [ had hoped the coroner would be sending him along. The big redhead spotted me the minute L poked my nose outside the room. His lean tanned face wrinkled into a smile, and his lips formed a familiar greeting before he caught my signal. Then his jaw just clamped shut and he walked on past me, straight as a rod, into the Colonel's room. Margaret Vail, following behind him, missed the whole thing. The entire household was assembled in the late millionaire’s bedroom, evidently at Mark's request, when I stepped in, Only one face was unfamiliar to me, 4 tall, rather aristocratic looking gent wearing a pair of fancy nose-pincher glasses and carrying a brief case. Mark set everything straight at the beginning by introducing him as the Colonel’s law- yer. Most of the investigation was pure routine. First, Mark announced that the coroner had found that the Colonel had died of suffocation, that the death had oceurred probably sometime between one and two in the morning. To set his lis- teners at ease, he explained that the strangulation evidently had been the re- 10-STORY DETECTIVE sult of the Colonel’s asthma, that the in- - vestigation was merely for the purpose of clearing all concerned. You could feel the whole room relax. Then he began to work. Turning first to Lawrence Woods and to Fat Boy and his wife, he verified the time of their arrival the previous evening at about ten-thirty. Margaret Vail, in turn, checked on that, and added that she had retired at twelve-fifteen, soon after she had let me in. It was my turn next. Sadistic pleasure gleamed in Mark's eyes as he faced me. “And are you also a relative of Colonel Herrick’s?” he began caustically. “No,” I replied uncomfortably. “I’m his secretary.” Mark's massive eyebrows lifted. “And how long have you beem ia his employ- ment?” “Since midnight last night.” I didn’t bat an eyelash. Mark’s face registered mock surprise. “Funny working hours for a secretary,” he mumbled. “What time did you get to bed?” “About twelve-fifteen. Miss Vail showed me my room.” I looked at the female in the dowdy brown dress, and she nodded her head. | “And you remained in your room all night up to the time Miss Post screamed for assistance?” | it hadn’t taken him long to find the sore spot. Trust old Mark to put the finger on it. I hesitated. But the Colenel’s nephew, Henry Crow- ell, didn’t give me a chance. ‘‘No, he did- n't,” Mr. Big spoke up. “I saw him out- side my uncle’s room at about one o’clock, He was leaning against the door.” — I felt every eye snap in my direction, Glancing across at Mr. Big, I met his cold, accusing stare uneasily. His palsy- walsy manner of a few hours ago was completely gone. Subconsciously, I won- dered if Margaret Vail or Fat Boy had been telling little tales. “T thought I heard a disturbance,” I ex- plained weakly. coughing.” Mark heard me with disbelief written all over his face, wagged 1is head serrow- fully, then turned to Crowell. “What were you doing in the hall at one in the morning?” Mr. Big’s answer was smooth and cas- ual, “I had been to a party. Ask Mr. Har CoTmicloookKs “¥é was the Colonel’s — (©