Fletcher Flora: The First Golden Age of Mystery & Crime MEGAPACK™: 26 Stories by Fletcher Flora

“The Two-Faced Corpse” was originally published in New Detective , April 1952.

“As I Lie Dead” was originally published in Manhunt , February 1953.

“I’ll Kill for You” was originally published in Giant Manhunt #2 (1953).

“A Long Way to K.c.” was originally published in Giant Manhunt #3 (1954).

“Heels Are for Hating” was originally published in Manhunt , February 1954.

“Murder of a Mouse” was originally published in Verdict Detective Story Magazine #5 1955.

“Points South” was originally published in Manhunt , June 1954.

“Two Little Hands” was originally published in Manhunt , December 1954.

“Handy Man” was originally published in Manhunt , February 1956.

“Loose Ends” was originally published in Manhunt , August 1958.

“The Witness Was a Lady” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , March 1960. Copyright © 1960, renewed 1988 by Davis Publications.

“She Asked for It” was originally published in Manhunt , August 1960.

“Tune Me In” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , September 1960. Copyright © 1960, renewed 1988 by Davis Publications.

“The Spent Days” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, June 1961.

“Bonus Boy” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , September 1963. Copyright © 1963, renewed 1991 by Davis Publications.

“Mrs. Dearly’s Special Day” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , July 1963. Copyright © 1963, renewed 1991 by Davis Publications.

“Six Reasons for Murder” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , March 1964. Copyright © 1964 by Fletcher Flora.

“How? When? Who?” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , September 1964. Copyright © 1964 by Fletcher Flora.

“The Satin-Quilted Box” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , December 1964. Copyright © 1964 by Fletcher Flora.

“My Father Died Young” was originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , July 1965. Copyright © 1965 by Fletcher Flora.

“Wait and See” was originally published in The Saint Mystery Magazine , December 1965. Copyright © 1965 by Fletcher Flora.

“Obituary” was originally published in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Magazine , March 1966. Copyright © 1966 by Fletcher Flora.

“The Happenstance Snatch” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , May 1966. Copyright © 1966 by Fletcher Flora.

“Cousin Kelly” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , June 1967. Copyright © 1967 by Fletcher Flora.

“Refuge” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , October 1968. Copyright © 1968 by Fletcher Flora.

“Something Priceless” was originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , November 1968. Copyright © 1968 by Fletcher Flora.

Fletcher Flora (1914–1968) was born in Kansas and served in the U.S. Army in the Far East during World War II, where he rose to the rank of Sergeant. He married Betty Ogden in 1940, and in 1945 was appointed Education Adviser to the Department of the Army, a position he held till 1963.

Beginning in the 1950s, he wrote a string of 20 novels — mysteries, lesbian novels, suspense, and three pseudonymously as “Ellery Queen.” He wrote more than 160 short stories for the leading mystery mystery magazines of the day, including Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Magazine, Manhunt , and many more.

Wildside Press purchased his copyrights in early 2015 and has been working to bring his classic material back into print.

Enjoy!

— John Betancourt

Publisher, Wildside Press LLC

Originally published in New Detective , April 1952.

“Hank Torgen’s got a place called the Zero Club,” Malory told Lonigan. “We’ll go there.”

The place was locked up tight. Malory banged and waited. After a minute, he banged and kept on banging. A key rattled suddenly in the lock on the inside, and the door was jerked violently inward away from Malory’s persistent knuckles. A Galento-type guy with shirt sleeves rolled back off hairy forearms stood in the opening.

“What the hell’s the idea, trying to knock the door down? You looking for a fat lip, maybe?”

“We’re looking for Hank Torgen, goon. Now tell us he’s not here.”

“Okay. He ain’t here.”

“That’s a good boy. Now we’ll just come in and look around.”

The fat guy cocked a hairy arm and moved forward. Malory waved a badge under his flat nose, and the cocked arm came down.

“Oh. Coppers.”

“Yeah. You must be new around here, goon.”

“That’s twice you’ve called me goon. Lay off.”

“Sure, goon. Take my advice. Learn to recognize the right faces.”

Malory pushed in, Lonigan at his heels. They went down a short hall, past the check stand, into the main room of the club. Later on, at playtime, it would be soft-lighted and crammed with ersatz gaiety. Now it didn’t have its makeup on. Glitter washed out in gray light. About as gay as a crutch.

In a back hall that abandoned all pretense of luxury, Malory knuckled a door and pushed in without waiting for an invitation. From behind a desk, a man with a broad, rocky face looked up from under craggy brows. His eyes were the color of slate and looked about as hard. When he saw who his visitors were, he stood up. Five feet eight or nine, vertical. Horizontal, there wouldn’t have been much difference. Built to last.

“Hello, Malory. You didn’t give me time to say come in.”

“I knew we’d be welcome.”

“Sure. Any time, Malory. Find a chair.”

Malory did. Lonigan stayed by the door, standing. Sitting behind his desk again, Hank Torgen reached for a bottle.

“Drink?”

“No, thanks. Ask me some time when I’m not official.”

“I never see you when you’re not official.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s right. It’s hell to work for a living, isn’t it?”

A smile brushed Torgen’s lips. Really just the shadow of one. There wasn’t any humor in it.

“I know my line. I’m supposed to say I wouldn’t know. You might be surprised. I might work harder than you think.”

“Maybe. There are lots of ways to make a living. I guess you could call any of them working. Seen Trixy Vincent lately, Hank?”

The slate-colored eyes were suddenly very still. So was the blocky body. Only the lips moved.

“Come off, Malory. Trixy took a powder over a year ago. You know that.”

“Sure. I know. Right after the Cornelius Jewelry Store heist, wasn’t it? I always had an idea Trixy might have crossed someone on that job. You sure you haven’t seen him?”

“I haven’t seen him. I haven’t been looking.”

“No? Neither have I. But I’ve seen him just the same. In an apartment out on Eighteenth. He’d had a job of plastic surgery done. Didn’t look like the same old Trixy at all. It was him, though. Right here in town all the time, Hank.”

“This a joke, copper?”

“Not to Trixy. He’s dead. Someone gunned him.”