10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

-—- = and gazing into the art shops with all the appearance of a connoisseur. But today he hurried rather than strolled; and he did little bowing and smiling. But he did, however, gaze in a shop window displaying antiques and pieces and art. If his memory served him right—yes, there it was! The junior partner of Jennings & Brickley stepped inside and made a purchase. ERT BRICKLEY’S phone buzzed. Jennings was on the other end of an inside eall, : “Bert, come in here at once, There’s —well, come in here.” Brickley went into the senior part- ner’s office, passing through the outer office as usual to do so. He found, in addition to the perplexed senior part- ner, two deliverymen and a large crate. “Bert, do you know anything about this? What did we ever order from Bentino’s? That’s an art shop.” “It’s a little surprise from me,” smiled the junior partner, rubbing spatulate fingers. “A real bargain I knew you would appreciate. Open it, boys. PH need your help.” The two deliverymen went to work on the box and soon had the top re- moved. Carefully they separated the packing and then with difficulty lifted out a heavy bronze bust. “Julius Caesar — almost in the flesh,” exclaimed the junior partner, spreading his hands. Jennings said nothing immediately. His sagging lips denoted mingled emo- tions. Of course the younger partner could not distinguish the enormous gulf between rare editions and manu- scripts on Caesar and this grotesque monstrosity in bronze; yet Bert meant well, and Jennings was too gentle to offend. “Tt’s—it’s very thoughtful of you, Bert. You shouldn’t have spent your money this way. Er—I was wonder- ing what I would do with it—” “Put it right up here,” suggested the junior partner, indicating the fil- PATAL-EENCY——— 8 ing cabinet. “Come on, boys, give me ait The senior partner was about to protest. To have that with him all day long forecasted torture; but on second thought he realized that if he did not keep it here he would have to bring it home and keep it exposed where Bert could see it any time he dropped in. No, better to have it here where he would be engrossed in work and able to forget about it; and with it reposing on the file cabinet his back would be to it most of the day. Even when he went to the cabinet he would have to look up almost deliberately to see it. After a time he could devise some ex- cuse to get rid of the gift. BOUT a week following this ex- position of generosity on the part: of Bert Brickley, the junior partner returned from luncheon to find the office force in a state of confusion. “Oh, Mr. Brickley—Mr. Brickley,” moaned Miss Stevens, the old maidish secretary, ‘‘something dreadful has happened. There has been an acci- dent.” “An accident?” “Yes. Mr. Jennings. He’s been killed. I phoned the police. Perhaps I shouldn’t. Maybe I should have waited.” “You did exactly right, Miss Stev- ens. We’ll let them take entire charge when they come.” “They are here.” “Here?” exclaimed Brickley. “Er— they must have been very prompt.” The junior partner stepped into Jennings’ office. A tall, somewhat gawky young chap in blue uniform stood at the door; probably the police- man picked up at the corner. At Jen- nings’ desk sat a middle-aged man in drab civilians. His round face denoted curiosity rather than shrewdness as Brickley entered. “I’m the junior partner,” announced Brickley. “Miss Stevens told me there had been an accident. Is it—serious ?” “Yeah, pretty serious,” said the com _——-_ lEébookszcom — oe si —— ee ie