9
The Story of the Waxworks
by Rosaleen Norton
…Then the full horror of the position burst upon him. Locked in with those grinning monstrosities for the night. Commonsense strove to reassert itself. It must be a mistake of course. The old woman would, no doubt, come early in the morning, to let him out, and in the meantime—well, there were worse places to spend the night than in a warm room, and the waxworks were only life-sized toys, after all.
Smith’s Weekly, 1934
Colin Delaney perused Rosaleen Norton’s story carefully, grimacing and grunting every now and then. “She’s seventeen, you say?” He angled his head to one side as he considered the scenario. “It’s possible, I suppose. She told you Crispin White was working on a story at Magdalene’s?”
Rowland nodded. “She’s adamant that a c
