10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

MURDER IN MINIATURE explanation. Sending flowers behind my pack!” Her eyes dwindled to ugly slits. “Why, Vl kill the two-timing—!”’ Nelson said, “I’ll save you the trouble, Miss Jacques. I’ve heard of your dear Mr. Monfrede. Released from Sing Sing recently, wasn’t he?” | He turned to Gerry. “Better watch out whom you associate with, precious. Con- victs!” He laughed curtly, “I thought only Park Avenue people came here?” Miss Jacques took the query as an in- sult. “Don’t you go making snide re- marks about me!” She took a quick step forward, swinging up a hand, It smacked sharply on Nelson’s left cheek. He stag- gered backward against the counter, dis- turbing Mahatma Ghandi, who began to pipe again. Miss Jacques yanked her white fur on her shoulders as if it had been trying to sneak back to its den, looked down her nose at Nelson, and sprinted outside, slamming the door so vigorously that— though the pane didn’t smash—the velvet draperies swung in the draft. Geraldine shut off Ghandi’s whisile, laid her arms on the counter, put her face on them, and started to cry. At which point the door opened again and Martin Clayfus entered. He was a wisp of a man with spectacles see-sawing on the end of his nose, and a large grey mustache which curled over his upper lip, hiding it. Clayfus lifted both hands in dismay. “Miss Jordan—crying!” He disregarded Nelson entirely. “Ah, you poor child. Hungry, no doubt, and with a headache.” He hurried around the counter to her and patted her heaving shoulders. “There, there, my dear. You hurry right off and have your little something to eat!” Geraldine straightened up, searching for her handkerchief. She cast a sheepish, reproachful look at Nelson as she honked her nose. Clayfus brought the girl her hat and coat.’ “Here, my dear, you just run right out.” He helped her into her coat. “And YH tell you what!” His voice lifted with the delight of pure inspiration. “You just take the afternoon off!” “But—but you'll need me—” Gerry murmured weakly, with a sullen look to- ward her fiancé, “Nonsense! I have just a little work to do on Mr. Napoleon, and that’s all. Run along, child, with your nice young ——————§65 man!” He made Nelson sound like a piece of cake, 3 Geraldine succumbed to the doll- maker’s blandishments and left the estab- lishment, but her sidelong glances at Nelson didn’t mollify him. He was mad clear through. “Wearin’ another man’s flowers!” he snorted. “If it comes to the point of you having to accept stuff from a no-good like Elmo Monfrede just to keep Clayfus and his business from go- ing haywire, you’d better quit your job!” “YT don’t tell you how to run your life!” Gerry snapped. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m learning all about you, now, before we're married and it’s too late. Oh, I hate you—hate you! Here, take back your - ring. I won’t have lunch with you—and I won’t see you tonight, or ever again!” “Damn it, Monfrede must have made a big impression on you for you to turn independent all of a sudden! I'll fix that! Pt fix him! When I get through with him, you won’t be getting any more flowers from him! You’ll be sending them - care of the cemetery!” gust a lover’s quarrel, which should have blown over by nightfall. It might have, if Nelson hadn’t found Gerry’s ring in his pocket at closing time in his office. He became enraged all over again. No date with Gerry tonight. Her ring here instead of on her finger where it be- longed. Flowers from Elmo Monfrede.. . Instead of eating, he went to a drug store and found Monfrede’s number in the telephone book. He didn’t telephone Monfrede. You can’t blacken a guy’s eyes over a wire. He hopped a cab and went to East Twenty-seventh and Lexington Avenue, Monfrede’s number was the cor- ner building—two stories above a drug store. : Nelson paid the hackie and started toward the building. A redheaded fellow emerged and hurried toward a long green ear parked halfway down the block. “You . Monfrede?” Nelson called to him. The fellow looked back, but kept on going. Nelson shrugged. It might have been Miss Jacques’ boy friend, at that. With Nelgon’s luck, that’s probably who it was, The redheaded fellow zipped into the green car as if attached to it by a spring, and it rolled away-in a good deal of hurry. Nelson climbed the dark hall’s stair and hesitated at the door on the Janding. It was a two-floor apartment, Eomichooo Ss (©) im