Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, December 1956 — page 85: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Mitch went back to the house, mounted the steps silently, and opened the screen. He held it with his foot, and knocked. “Dukie?” A gay trill came from the girl. “Com-ing!” There was a scurry of slippered feet. Then a delicious, “Duke, hon- ee!” as she flung the door open ~ wide, and looked out. Mitch belted her in the stomach, said, “Hon-ee to you, honey,” and went in. The chalice was on the table in an opened overnight case. Mitch examined it fondly, put it back in the case and snapped the catches on it. The redhead was staggering around the room, gasping, bent over like a clothespin. As she came near him, Mitch gave her a light tap on the temple, then strolled into the bedroom as she crumpled to the floor. He frisked that room and all the others. The results were very satisfying. Like Bette, the girl seemed to be a frugal type, for she had wads of bills stashed all over the joint. Mitch returned to the living room some three thousand dollars richer than he had been. | He took a roll of tape from his pocket, and squatted over the girl. She was dressed for her date with Duke—or pretty well undressed. Mitch thought this was a very hap- py coincidence. He had a job in mind for her, and what she was wearing—or wasn’t wearing— THE CELLINI CHALICE would do nicely as a uniform. She waked up as he completed his binding and gagging. She couldn’t talk, naturally, but her eyes asked a frightened question. Mitch gave her a _ reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re going for a nice little ride, and then I’m going to drop you off at a friend’s house. A very sweet old lady that runs kind of a ‘social club.” For some reason, the girl didn’t seem at all reassured. She squirmed wildly, her face redden- ing as she tried to curse Mitch through her gag. Mitch shook his head reproving- ly. “Why, how ungrateful of you! Just for that you have to go to bed early.” He gave her a tap on the chin. The girl went promptly to sleep. Mitch slung her over his shoulder, and stood up. It was a little before dawn when he dumped her on Mame Dorset’s front porch in Los Angeles. He rang the doorbell, trotted back to the Cad and drove away. He rode around for an hour or so, then ate a leisurely breakfast at a drive-in restaurant. Afterwards he headed for the business section, turning in finally at a used-car dealer’s. He had the registration papers on the car. He also had Duke's driver’s license and certain other identification. The dealer offered him three grand for the Cad, then 83 [email protected])