Smith made a profitable business out of
murder. It was all quite simple--he killed a
man and then disposed of the body--forever!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
March 1952
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The sign on the door said Ernest H. Smith, Private Investigator.
The door opened and a woman came in. She was a brunette, about
five-feet-two, wearing a yellow dress with black buttons. She carried a
brown alligator handbag. "I am Mrs. Wilma Rogers," she said. "You were
recommended to me."
Smith motioned to a chair in front of his desk. "Sit down, Mrs. Rogers.
Do you have a card?"
She sat down and opened her handbag. She took out a small card and
handed it to him. He looked at the printed words, "Recommended to
Smith." He opened a desk drawer and removed a small bottle of red
liquid, spilling a few drops on the blank side of the card. Soon there
was visible writing on it. "Okay for any service," it said.
"All right," Smith nodded, "what can I do for you?"
"I want you to kill my husband," she said pleasantly.
Smith swiveled his chair around to face the typewriter, inserted a
blank sheet of white paper, and began to type. "Why do you want him
killed?"
"He's stingy--he won't give me enough money."
"How much money will he leave you, Mrs. Rogers?"
"Roughly two hundred thousand," she said. "There's insurance, of
course, but I understand we can't count on that."
Smith smiled. "That's a nice sum. Now what time would be most
convenient?"