RANSVESTIA RANSVI

When I got to the hotel there wasn't anyone at the desk. I rang the little bell and waited. A tall brunette came out of the office.

"Have you seen this man?" I asked, showing her a picture of Jen- nings and my badge.

"No. And we don't like dicks around here. Why don't you just leave?" she answered coldly, as two big thugs came out.

Well, I didn't want any trouble, so I just turned and left.

Later I decided that I had hardly left, and the two thugs had gone back into the office, when the brunette turned and walked down the corridor. She stopped several doors down and, opening the door, went in.

Inside, a fairly good-looking blond chic was sitting at the desk.

"There was a private dick outside just now. He had a picture of you and was asking questions. I got rid of him."

"I didn't think my fiance would go to the trouble of hiring a private eye to find me. I figured she'd just assume I changed my mind about our getting married," said the new chic.

"Well she did hire one. Name's Jerry Thunder," said the brunette, who was also the manager. "Anyway, it's time for your hormone shot and more lessons."

She then proceded to give the blond a shot of female hormones. Then the brunette started the lessons in makeup, dress and manner- isms, etc.

The next day, my third on the case, I drove back to my office. I called Miss Matson. I told her about the events of the previous day. Then I asked her if the clothes in Jennings' apartment were her's. When she said no, I was more than a little puzzled.

I went back to Jennings' apartment to look around again. This time I found a box of papers. I rummaged through them. I found a slip of paper with the hotel's name, address, phone number and a room number.

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