15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

38 living room. The color scheme was blue- green, with blue predominating. A long mantel ran above the fireplace and three Chinese porcelain figures stood on the mantel. Everything in the room looked very expensive to Spencer. HE MAN crossed the room, reached for:one of the figures. He handed it to Spencer, saying, “Centuries old. Love- ly, isn’t it?” The statue was perhaps a foot tall, heavier than Spencer had imagined. He looked at the man and saw a squarish tanned face, a small dark mustache. He said, smiling, “If it’s that old I’d better put it back,” Spencer put the statue back gingerly. The man indicated a decanter and glasses on a low table, ‘There’s the drink I promised you. I think my friend is up- stairs. I’ll only be a minute.” He left the room. Spencer lifted the glass top from the decanter and sniffed brandy. He poured himself a short drink and walked around the room, holding the glass. He saw the colored photograph of a girl on an end table. The hair was cop- pery, the eyes smoky green and somehow arrogant. She looked to be in her early twenties. Across the bottom of the picture, in bold pen strokes, was written: To Aunt Mary with love, Dora. Spencer straightened, hearing voices. He recognized the man’s voice. “But, Mary—” “Don’t Mary me!” a woman’s voice ‘answered harshly. “Because of you, Dora has left this house. But I still hold the upper hand, Rincon. If she’s fool enough to marry you, you can be certain that I'll change my will. And don’t think you can wait me out. [I expect to keep on living for a good many years!” The man answered in a low voice. Spen- cer finished the brandy, put the glass back on the tray. He wished he hadn’t accepted 15 Story Detective the man’s invitation to enter the house. The voices were coming nearer. There were steps, the sound of tapping. The man appeared. The angry woman was di- rectly behind him. She was thin and elder- ly, with white hair and a tight-lipped mouth. She walked with the help of a cane. A double strand of pearl necklace glowed at her throat. She said, “You knew this was the maid’s night off, so you came—”’ She broke off, glared at Spencer, her. head lifted. “Who are you?” she de- manded. Before Spencer could open him mouth, the man said, “A friend of mine. I invited him in to see—”’ “How dare you presume that I want your friends in my house!” the woman cut in. “Get out, both of you!” The man’s face worked. Then he . shrugged, walked with Spencer to~ the door. Spencer looked back at the woman, thought of offering explanations, But this was none of his business and he wanted no part of it. They walked to the car in silence. The man reached for the glove compartment, brought out the bottle. He took a long drink and looked back at the house. Sud- denly he passed the bottle to Spencer. “Go ahead, kill it. I forgot my hat. Be back in a minute.” He strode rapidly to the house. Spencer sat in the car, holding the bot- tle. He didn’t care for another drink. He was thinking of Mexico, wondering how long his money would last across the bor- der. Acapulco would be the spot to go, he thought, but Acapulco was a tourist trap. Durango was the place. He could pick up a tourist permit in the morning easily enough. The man was coming back, getting into the car, and Spencer was wondering idly what the trouble was all about. “Se there a. drink: tefk an..that hottie? the man asked nervously. GComicbooks: (E@)