Famous Detective Magazine August 1950 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pulp, Mystery
Publisher: Famour Detective Magazine
Published: 1950-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

2

Ned did not go directly home. Concerned about Pricilla, he knocked on her door. In fact, Donovan’s detectives both spent their time of waiting in lewd conversation outside of Pricilla’s apartment house for some two hours until Ned emerged and went to his own apartment. This fact was reported to Donovan before the night was over. Lurid press accounts of the blind man’s murder made the front pages of nearly every New York newspaper the following morning. Millions of Gothamites read the details over their breakfasts and chewed their toast a little faster in borrowed excitement.

In the subways and at work, speculation and second guessing about the crime was a principal subject of conversation all over the metropolis. The odd circumstances of the crime, set in Greenwich Village, involving a blind man and an artist to boot, fired the imaginations of the city citizenry as few crimes had before.

Pilgrimages of lunchtime curiosity seekers descended in droves on the Eighth Street Pottery Shoppe, blocking traffic, impeding pedestrian progress and making the entire Village area a kind of open-air carnival. Police were hard put to control the mob, let alone keep it moving.

Donovan, freshly shaved and looking as if he’d had a night’s sleep instead of no more than ninety-seven minutes of shut-eye on a station house bench, had trouble getting through the collection of humanity that had grown to great proportions even by the time he returned to the scene of the crime. “Some day,” he muttered, “I’m going to find me a job in a small town where there isn’t enough population for crimes to be committed and mobs to be formed!”

If it was difficult for Donovan to get into the art shop, it was twice as hard for a tall, cavernous-looking, down-at-the-heels character who materialized out of the Village environs. But through sonorous pleadings of an extraordinarily deep voice and through persistent shoving, this individual managed to find himself confronting the policemen who guarded the front door of the store. To them he confided in Shakespearian accents, “Will you minions of the law be good enough to escort muh to whoevah is in charge here?”

The police tried to shake him off, but the man with the voice like a turn of the century melodrama insisted, “I have information pertinent to the solution of this terrible crime against conscience! I demand to see the Inspector, or Captain, or whoever it is!”

After considerable argument, the figure convinced the policemen he knew something of importance. Enjoying the attention of bystanders no little, the elongated ham was finally taken inside the store. A moment later, he found himself face to face with Donovan.

“Well?” the detective growled, eyeing with evident disfavor the obvious Village prototype that had thrust itself before him.

“My rrresidence,” the curious man intoned, “lies dirrrectly acrrross yon thoroughfare!” He rolled a mean letter r in speaking and pointed with a generous sweeping gesture across the street from the store.

“So you live across the street!” Donovan snapped. “Cut out the theatricals and get to the point.

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