Manhunt. Volume 6, Number 4, June, 1958

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The set-up smelled phony, but I took the job anyway. You don’t say no to multi-millionaires...

The voice on the phone was precise. “Mr. Harold Stander?”

“Speaking,” I said.

“This is Mr. George Harbor, personal secretary to Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Wolfendon. Mrs. Wolfendon has asked me to engage you on a confidential matter. Are you available at the moment?”

“I’m available,” I said laconically. I had been available for some time. The private detective business is never very good in Miami, and it’s worse when you have to be temporarily careful to stay strictly within the law. I’d had a blunt warning from the Miami chief of police that one more step outside of it would lose my license, and I was being temporarily careful.

“Then Mrs. Wolfendon would like you to call at her home at exactly three P.M. today. Is that time suitable?”

It was an hour off, and the Wolfendons’ Miami Beach mansion was a forty-five-minute drive from my office. But you don’t say no to multi-millionaires. Joshua Wolfendon was chairman of the board of Wolfendon Plastics, which grosses some four hundred million a year.

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