The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1940-03-14
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Ru Ann Oamarosf
BY Ann Demaresf

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tic fashion imaginable she looked
at the Sergeant and said. THAT
was my lighter"
l gripped the arms of the chair,
expecting the Sergeant to burst
into fame. But he didn't. He sat
there as calm as a clam and
waited for her to 60 on.
II loaned it to Mr.. Kincaid
while he was living here" she
said. "He must have left it be-
hind when he moved" She turned
to me. "You see. he had your
apartment"
That sounded too pat to me.
'"That lighter wasn't in my room
last night" ! said.
The Sergeant looked up.
you're sure?"
Positive. I'd have seen it. This
morning I found it on the floor
right in front of my door. It
wasn't there last night"
We'll see," he said. give sent
for Mr.. Kincaid"
Then he asked Miss Wells about
her work, and after much prod
ding he unearthed a scanty bit of
information. She'd been in the
chorus of musical comedy. After
five minutes of laundering we
learned that the shows run had
been short and she was trying
now to get in a new revue. After
ten minutes more the Sergeant
was forced to realize that he'd met
his Waterloo. The girl was not
going to talk. She looked at us
unconcernedly enough, but her
mouth was drawn in a tight. stub
born line.
Mrs. Evans departed first, with
a sidelong glance at the Sergeant.
You'll never get anywhere
this way" she said as she
waddled up to the third floor.
Without answering, the Ser
geant went downstairs and went
back to my room.
List OF Questions
THE less said about that after
noon the better. hung some
old Powered chintz curtains and
they made the room look a bit
less dismal, though they were too
short for the long windows. And
l tried to finish unpacking, but
the house was a shambleS. There
were men prowling around-de-
tectives, l guesS-and Mr.. Nor
ton, who made frequent trips to
the second floor, found an excuse
for knocking every time he
passed
Finally l said, There is no
hope for you. My heart is in Ber-
muda."
He grinned at that. Don't
f1atter yourself, Blonde. It's the
girl in the front apartment I'm
gaga about. What's her manner"
(Which one?"
"Baby," he said, 81 never
bother with brunettes. mean the
one with the hair like mine"
"And now you're fiattering
yourself" l said.
He patted his carrot red hair
sadly. 81 know it, but ] thought
with hers and mine the children
would have wonderful hair"
l threw a magazine at him and
he ducked out of the door and
then leaned back. "Be a sport,
Blonde. What's her name?"
MARY Ann Rogers"
Nov, isn't that cute?" he said.
There's nothing l like better than
a good, old-fashioned name like
Mary Ann"
"I'm glad you're happy" / said.
and closed the door firmly in his
face.
While was puttering around
it suddenly came to me that |
might do a little detective work
on my own. When Dirck kolH
came it might help. He'd want to
know all the details. ! couldn't
find a notebook so I wrote on a
piece of paper tackled to my draw
ing board. It was difficult to get
the things straight in my mind.
But finally jotted down some
questions:
Was Joan Kent dead tDhen
knocked on the door last night?
If she tDds dead then, tDho
opened the suindotp?
Who t1as hiding on the stair
tcdy tchiIe l tedS In the hall?
Was it Mr.. Kincdid tCho rushed
into my room?
Why did he ledve the house
under mysterious circumstances?
Mr.. Kimbdll t1ould take
nothing less than gears lease.
Why tUdS Mrs. EvdnS so sure it
tUaS Mr.. Kimball tDho murdered
Joan Kent?
Who tUGS the man tpho tele-
phoned and Wouldn't give his
name?
Where tDaS Richard Macdonald
last night?
Why did Miss Wells and Miss
Rogers both act so strange?
was eager to meet the rest of
the people in the house. Sergeant
Long had said he was rounding
them up. There was the artist,
whatever his name was, on the
third floor, and Richard Mac
Donald who'd been gone all night;
the mysterious MIR. Kincaid who