Miss Shumway Waves A Wand

“A couple of minutes and it’ll all be over,” he returned with ghoulish gloom. “She’s in that lingerie shop across the street. The moment you’d gone, she spotted it and made a dart for it. I hadn’t time to reason with her. There was a copper on the corner and he saw her. It took him just five seconds to call the riot squad. They’ve just moved in.”

I looked across the street. Two patrolmen stood outside the smart modiste shop, looking with interest at the various garments displayed in the windows.

“Why don’t they bring her out?” I said, feeling a little sick.

“How do I know?” Whisky said peevishly. I could see he was as worried as I was.

“Well, I’m not staying here,” I said, “I’m going to see what’s cooking. You wait here,” and I left the taxi and crossed the Street.

The two patrolmen looked like they were going to stop me, but I kept walking and they let me through.

The first guy I set eyes on was Clancy.

“Well, well,” I said, smiling at him. “Buying something for the little woman?”

“There you are!” he 8aid, swelling with rage. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where is she?”

I took a quick gander round the shop. It was certainly a nice place. The guy who’d put it together had taken a lot of pains to get it just right. It was all chromium furniture, mirrors and concealed lighting. The carpet was so thick that it tickled my ankles. There were a number of alcoves round the room containing life-size models on which were displayed bathing suits, lingerie and evening gowns. Some of these models were so snappy that I took a second look to make sure I wasn’t passing anything up.

At the far end of the room, a patrolman stood guard over a group of girls. He seemed to be enjoying his job. I could understand that. The girls looked like they had been lifted straight out of the front line of the Follies. There was a nervous looking guy in morning clothes, fussing around. I guessed he was the manager of the shop.

But there was no sign of Myra.

I turned my attention to Clancy. “Where’s who?” I asked. “Why don’t you relax sometimes, old boy? Life ain’t all work. Take a gander at those wenches huddling in the corner. Don’t they stir your pulse?”

“Don’t give me that stuff,” Clancy said, looking fierce. “She was seen coming in here and now you turn up. Do you think I’m dumb?”

“She… she… she?” I repeated. “What are you talking about? What she?”

“This Shumway bird,” Clancy said, clenching his fists and looking homicidal. “You’d better be careful, Millan. She’s wanted for murder.”

“I know, I know. But, what have I got to do with it? I just got here,” I said. “Haven’t you searched the joint? And listen, Clancy, while we’re on the subject, you’d better be careful. My paper won’t stand for me being kicked around.”

That slowed him up. He vented his temper on the cops.

“Don’t stand there like a bunch of stuffed eels,” he snarled. “Look for her. Turn this joint upside down. Take it to pieces. She’s here, so find her!”

The manager came rushing up. “I won’t have it!” he spluttered. “You can’t go into the dressing rooms. My customers wouldn’t stand for it. This is an unpardonable, unwarranted outrage!”

“Wait a minute,” Clancy said to the cops. Then he turned on the manager. “Do you think I care what you’ve got to say? A woman came in her five minutes ago and she’s still here. Where did she go?”

The manager wrung his hands. “I put her in that dressing room,” he said, pointing to an empty room near one of the alcoves. “She’s vanished. I didn’t see what happened to her.”

“Well, she’s somewhere around,” Clancy said, between his teeth. “Send one of your dames into all those rooms and get every woman out of ‘em.”

“This should be good,” I said. “A great out-door playboy like you wouldn’t know that dames go in those rooms to undress.”

“Keep out of this!” Clancy bellowed. “I’m going to find that dame if it’s the last thing I do.”

“It certainly will be the last thing you do if you drive a lot of undressed society dames out of hiding,” I returned. “Captain Summers’ wife buys stuff here.”

He pushed his face into mine. “If you don’t pipe down, I’ll make you sorry you were born,” he said violently, but I could see that I’d shaken him. “You want this girl to get away, don’t you? Well, she ain’t getting away.”

I shrugged. “Go ahead,” I said. “It’s your funeral.”

He turned back to the manager. “Get ‘em out!” he ordered. “Everyone of ‘em. She’s hiding somewhere in those rooms and she’s wanted for murder!”

The manager hesitated, then he decided that there was nothing he could do about it. He told off a couple of the girls and they went from cubicle to cubicle.

In five minutes about six women, in wraps, were standing indignantly before Clancy, who looked as if he were going out of his mind. Myra wasn’t among them.