EDUCATION FOR DEATH

“For a guy with education you certainly miss a lot of answers. What’s the trouble now, honey? Better tell mama—she’ll unjam you like she has before.”

“Shut up! And get out!” Floyd Dexter snapped. “Luigi Marinelli is coming over—that’s all.”

“All right—I’ll breeze—but I’m comin’ back! You ain’t turning the fan on little Mame.” The pretty girl flounced from the apartment.

* * * *

As the Professor rose from examining Floyd Dexter’s body, lying below a wall mirror, a powder-marked hole in the left temple, Inspector Kelley pointed to a newspaper on a table. Fordney read the headlines:

MILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY SHOT LEAVING THEATER AFTER MATINEE

“Wonder if there’s any tie-up with this rompin’ Rollo?” Kelley popped a jujube into his mouth. “Let’s have it, you!” It was 7:22 p.m.

“I left Floyd’s apartment here at 1:30 this afternoon when he said Luigi Marinelli was coming. I returned at 7 and found him dead. No,—didn’t touch a thing.” Marne’s voice broke. “The poor sap just didn’t understand that they play for keeps in this town.”

* * * *

“Sure, my fingerprints are on that newspaper. I took it to Dexter’s apartment when I went to collect a little nightclub bill he owed me, this afternoon. Here,”—Marinelli held out a check dated that day for $115.

“What time did you leave?” Fordney asked, examining the check.

“At 3:30. Why?”

The Professor looked at Marne; Kelley stared at the .32 caliber automatic found near the body. A chair scraped. The killer screamed.

Who was arrested for Dexter’s murder? What single clue proved guilt? Turn page for solution.