Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

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BOX OF 10— 2Si BOX OF 50 — 98j< Meds The Modess Tampon shows, they were well known at the best night clubs, they were invited to all the fanciest society parties. And Princess Susannah was loaded down with emeralds and diamonds and matched pearls that the Prince had given her. And then the blow came. The F.B.I, caught up with the Prince one day and pretty soon the whole town was buzzing with the news that Prince Mikaloff was a famous international jewel thief. He had spent most of his life in Europe, but when things got too difficult there, he had come to the United States where he evidently intended to settle down and enjoy his ill-gotten gains. His life here had been very respectable. He hadn't bothered to ply his trade in New York, which was one reason the police hadn't suspected him. TT was tough on Susie. The scandal ■* reverberated from newspaper headlines to society columns. And not only that — the police naturally thought that Susie was the Prince's accomplice and arrested her, too. They didn't have to stay in jail long. The Prince arranged some sort of bail, and they went back to Park Avenue while they waited for the trial. It was right about then that the Prince was murdered. My eyes were popping out of my head at this point. I looked at Jeff and his face was perfectly blank. Of course, when the Prince was murdered, the woman went on, they arrested Susie again and things really looked black for her. It wasn't until an underworld character who was being held on another charge confessed that he shot the Prince because the Prince had doublecrossed him that Susie's name was cleared. The woman stopped talking then and looked at the two of us quizzically. "Some girl, eh boys? Did you say she was a friend of yours?" I nodded dumbly, and she went on. "Well, that's all I know about her, but I guess that's plenty." "Do you have any idea where she is now?" I managed to ask. "You might try the precinct station. Maybe they'd know." "Thanks," I told her, and we stumbled out of the hotel. Jeff leaned against a lamp post when we got out on the street. "Whew," he gasped, "this is gettin' too much for me. I don't think I can stand much more. We're beginnin' to remind me of Dick Tracy. From Princess to murder suspect in one easy jump." "I know it," I said worriedly. Things like this just didn't happen to people — at least not to people from Oakdale, Indiana. Then I remembered that this was New York and almost anything could happen here. "Let's get over to the police station," I said to Jeff, "and see what we can find out." "Look Chip," said Jeff mutinously, "I'm gettin' sick and tired of this chasin' around from one place to another. Let's forget about this Susie character and ease on over to Broadway and have a little fun for a change. We haven't got much more time. C'mon, Chip." But suddenly I realized that Suzie was probably in trouble by now and needed me. She had never needed me back home. She was the girl who took care of everybody else — somebody was always running to her for help or advice about something. 58 Even I used to spend most of my time pouring out my troubles into her willing ears. It was my turn to help her now. And, feeling that she really needed me, a great love for Susie Brown welled up in my chest. It caught me in the throat and almost choked me. I whirled on Jeff then. "Listen, Jeff, Susie Brown is the girl I love, and I'm going to find her and help her out of this mess she's in if it's the last thing I do. And if you don't come along with me, you're just no pal of mine, that's all. Now — are you coming or aren't you?" Jeff was startled, and blinked a couple of times, then he laughed and put up his elbows as though to ward off a series of blows. "All right, all right, I'll come. Gee whiz, I didn't know you felt that way about her." "Well, I do," I told him, and we asked the nearest policeman where the precinct station was. He told us, and pretty soon we were talking to the desk sergeant. He didn't want to give us any information at first. He said the case was closed and he was glad of it and he didn't want to have anything more to do with it. I had to tell him the whole story — even to showing him Susie's last letter to me. Then he shook his head dubiously. "She must have changed a lot since you knew her, Buddy," he said. "She's a pretty hard character. We had a lot of trouble with her here. She wouldn't cooperate at all. Are you sure you want to look her up?" I managed to control my temper and said, "Yes, sir." "Well, if it's only on account of that uniform you're wearing, I guess I better tell you. But I think you're gonna be sorry." He thumbed through some papers on his desk. "She's at 12 Henry Street." SO we started our search again. Jeff was being very quiet, just trudging along beside me doggedly — probably thinking plenty but not saying a word. I was certainly thinking plenty. I hadn't done so much concentrated thinking about Susie Brown in all the time since I'd first known her. I didn't care how she had changed — I was convinced that Susie was the most important thing in my life. I'd find her and tell her so. Furthermore I didn't believe all the things the police sergeant and that woman at the 43rd Street Hotel had implied. Susie just couldn't have changed so completely. She never could be a hard character. Susie was the kind of girl who would spend a whole afternoon playing jacks with the little kids next door. She was the kind of girl who was always bringing home stray puppies and kittens and finding a good home for them. In her casual off-hand way she was the kindest girl I had ever known. She just wasn't the awful person all these people seemed to think she was. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that we were in front of 12 Henry Street and Jeff was shaking my arm before I realized that we had reached our destination. But when we knocked on the door, somebody told us that Susie had moved to Orchard Street. And when we got to the address on Orchard Street, we were directed to Amsterdam Avenue. By this time, Jeff was nervously looking at his wrist-watch. "Gosh, Chip, we haven't got much RADIO MIRROR