The Wilmington morning star., 1940-09-19
ruApTER ~TWENTY-SEVEN

When Linda opened the QOor Ill
TO the outer room OF the Bagley
Models agency, where she had her
desk, she expected to see Clarabell
Alderman working at her desk. a
desk she had been occupying while
Linda was getting something to
eat.
Clarabell was at the desk. But
she was not working. She never
would work again.
Her body slumped over the desk
and her arms hung limp at her
sides. The green eyeshade W a S
shattered and her face was hall
covered with red blood. F e S n
blood. Linda realized in that frst
moment of panic.
She wanted to run. To scream
even louder. But some instinct,
drew her nearer. Maybe Clarabell
wasn't dead. Maybe if she called
here, there would be a sign OF lie.
''Clarabell! Clarabell!" She was
so near that body now that she
could see the blood on her clothes.
And she could see the bullet ole
in the girls head.
Shot! Clarabell had been shot
while she stopped over to work.
That second spot on her blouse
must be another wound. But who
would kill her? Poor, simple, I'M
exciting Clarabell Alderman. who
had telephoned for a milk shake
only five or ten minutes before.
Why, this just had happened!
Maybe the murderer was some
where near. She shivered a d
turned back to the door. She must
get help. But where? The elevator
operator was down on the first
floor and it would be a long time
until he could get the signal and
come up. Usually he stood at the
entrance at night and only occa-
sionally turned his head to see If
a signal was flashing. Oh, if this
were only daytime, when all the
elevators shot up and down, in
stead of night with just one opera
tor on hand.
With a trembling hand she
reached for the telephone. She
must get the police, Caroline, Mr..
Bagley.
Then two things happened. A
mans voice had been talking on
the radio. Now it stopped and a
woman's came on. Nina Nevins.
Yes, that was the role Nina was
playing. So Clarabell had died to
the intonations of a voice she wor-
shipped, never knowing about the
woman who had the voice.
But the other disturbance was
so startling that she let the tele-
phone slip to the floor and roll
away.
Distinctly, clearly, subtly she,
caught the odor of the perfume
that Nina Nevins used. Suddenly
it seemed to be everywhere. She
was being upset, excited, she whis-
pered to herself that perfume
was in her mind and tragedy had
brought it back, that was all.
She ran, then, down the hall. She
heard steps and paused, aghast.
The murderer! But where could
she hide? Where could she go?
There was another corridor, not
so wide, and darker, leading away.
She ran down that hall, faster and
faster, though it seemed to her
that her legs were weak and filled
with water. Oh, this was a night
mare, one of the kind of dreams
where you tried to run but your
legs wouldn't work.
Then she was aware of heavy
steps coming after her, running
But she had reached the end of the
narrow hall and there a S no
place to 60. She tried a door which
said Exit" but it was locked. She
tried another which led to some
ones dark office, but it did not
open.
At last, she covered against the
wall, waiting.
There were two people coming.
Two men.
One of them called and she rec
ognized the voice. 1t was Joe, the
elevator boy. Quietly she slipped
to the ground, her legs refusing to
support her further.
She did not faint, though, and
when the men had helped her up
she looked at the other one. It was
the night Waterman.