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THREE NOVELS • EXPERTLY ABRIDGED

ETECTIVE
POISON
IN JEST
TRIPLE DETECTIVE

byJokii Dicks o tv Carr

ABOUT THE /

GERALDINE FOSTER
by c^utkony <Abbot

^Pop GOES
the Queen
by BobTVade & Bill Miller
A THRILLING
PUBLICATION
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’lASALirEXTENYlON’UNIVERSiTY
A CORRESPONDENCE INSTITUTION
 THREE NOVELS • EXPERTLY ABRIDGED

DETECTIVE
Vol. 3. No. I A THRILLING PUBLICATION

POISON IN
marble hand is the harbin< ger of grim doom in an old Pennsylva
when the simmering hates of a panic-stricken family break loose
t of murder! Peril and terror stalk the household of the Quay
JOHN DICKSON CAR

POP GOES THE QUEEN

The Grim Reaper himself plays the part of an uninvited guest at the strange
quiz program vacation of John Henry Conover and his lovely bride, Sin,
who soon discover that they must know all of the difficult answers—or else!
BOB WADE and BILL MILLER 72

ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER

Seven dead pigeons point the way to tragedy in the puzzling affair of the
beautiful girl who vanishes on Christmas Eve! Police Commissioner
Thatcher Colt faces the challenge of his career when a brutal killer stalks
ANTHONY ABBOT 118

THE READERS' JURY A Department 6

PETERMAN GENIUS Mills Hopkins 67
THE ALMOST PERFECT MURDER Jackson Hite 114
MURDER STAMP (A Short Story) Lewis Little 165
THE TELL-TALE TURKEY Simpson M. Ritter 176
IEARMRADIO
 A Panel of Authors, Mystery Fens end the Editor

M AYHEM and murder are a dirty,

unpleasant business—whether they oc¬
Twelve,” “The Case is Closed” and
“Pilgrim’s Inn” are a few of Maud Sil¬
cur in fact or fiction. Like accidents ver’s fictional triumphs.
and gruesome acts of violence, they are Then there is charming Grace La¬
the things men are wont to shield from tham, who has so often turned a helping
their womenfolk. After all, the age of hand for Colonel Primrose in such
chivalry is not dead (or, is it?) and if famous Leslie Ford mysteries as “Reno
we men can spare the ladies some un¬ Rendezvous” and “Three Bright Peb¬
pleasantness, why, it’s our bounden bles.” There is also Sister Ursula—
duty to do so! quite unique in detective fiction—the
Accordingly, you will read through lovable Dominican nun who made such
hundreds of mysteries, both current and a hit in H. H. Holmes’ “Nine Times
out of the past, wherein the killing is Nine.”
solved by a police detective, a private Finally, there are such well-known
investigator or, perhaps, the hyper- femmes as Pam North (the better half
curious hero—but always a male. You of the Mr. and Mrs. North team au¬
see, even our whodunit writers carry thored by the Lockridges), Helene Jus¬
on the tradition. And in spite of wom¬ tus (of Craig Rice’s Jake and Helene
en’s suffrage and women bus drivers Justus duo), Jean Abbott (of Frances
and doctors and dentists and women’s Crane’s Pat and Jean Abbott sleuthing
baseball teams—yes and even women combination) and Haila Troy (one half
publishers—you’ll find the hardy males of the Jeff and Haila Troy team created
hogging the fictional detective lime¬ by Kelley Roos).
light. All of these ladies have a remarkable
However, this does not mean that record of achievement in detective fic¬
the fair sex has been completely tion. They are well liked and they can
locked out of our whodunits as sleuths. spot a killer almost as fast as your
On the contrary, there is a small minor¬ editor can blink an eye.
ity of very capable gals who, for years,
have been challenging the accomplish¬ Enter—Hildegarde Withers
ments of their male associates. There’s one lady we haven’t men¬
tioned. We’ve saved her till last be¬
Famous Lady Detectives cause she stars in one of the three great
One of the first of these to come to mysteries coming up in the next issue
mind is pretty Nurse Sara Keate who of TRIPLE DETECTIVE. The story is
deals so effectively with murder and “Fear Death by Water” by Stuart
peril in Mignon G. Eberhart’s well- Palmer and the lady is none other than
known novels, “Mystery at Hunting’s Hildegarde Withers.
End,” and “From This Dark Stairway.” There is no detective story fan
Even better known, perhaps, is gray¬ worthy of the name who has not heard
haired Maud Silver, the little English
lady who has been solving murders
while she knits for authoress Patricia
g
of Hildegarde (and we don’t mean the
il with the curves and the voice). This
ildegarde is no chicken. She’s never
Wentworth. “The Clock Strikes (Continued on Page 8)
THEY COULD PLAY
This easy as A.B.C. way!
 THE READERS' JURY
(Continued from Page 6)

been known to sing (except maybe in

the bath tub). She has a long, horse¬
like face, wears outlandish hats and
devotes much of her time to raising
tropical fish—when she isn’t getting in¬
to Inspector Oscar Piper’s hair in some
murder mystery.
Well, fans, she really meddles this
time in spite of all her golden resolu¬
tions to the contrary. The result is a
tense, absorbing novel and a worthy
companion to the two other great books
which will appear in the next issue of
TRIPLE DETECTIVE.

A Reggie Fortune Novel

The first of these is a dramatic, fast-
moving Reggie Fortune novel entitled
“The Life Sentence” by H. C. Bailey.
The second is an unforgettable and dis¬
tinctly unusual crir le novel “How Like
a God” by Rex Stout, famous author of
the Nero Wolfe mysteries.
It all adds up to the greatest assort¬
ment of top-ranking authors ever as¬
sembled in one issue of TRIPLE DE¬
TECTIVE. Just think of it! H. C.
Bailey, Rex Stout and Stuart Palmer—
all together at one time. It took a lot
of doing, but because The Readers’ Jury
is entitled to try only the best cases on
the criminal record, we take pleasure
in bringing them to you.
Turning first to “The Life Sentence”
which will be the featured yarn in our
next issue, we find Reggie Fortune
dragged into one of the most intriguing
cases of his career. Reggie was at home
taking his ease when an old friend, Dr.
Isabel Cope, telephoned and asked his
assistance in treating and prescribing
for a pretty but lonely girl.
The girl was Rosalind Bruce, adopted
child of the widowed Mrs. Bruce, living
in a remote coastal cottage close to the
sea. It was a rugged country, rimmed
by steep, rocky headlands and continu¬
ally beset by fog.

Fear of Fog
Rosalind was subject to fits of lan¬
guor and depression despite her appar-
(Continued on Page 10)
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 THE READERS' JURY
(Continued from Page 8)
ent good physical health. She avoided
other girls and had an unreasoning
fear of fog. Dr. Cope believed her to
be in a dangerous emotional state of
mind.
Reegie listened closely to Dr. Cope
and hazarded the opinion that some¬
thing in the girl’s past or in the past
of her real family was responsible for
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a walk along the sea cliffs and hadn’t
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Reggie, experiencing a premonition

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When Dr. Cope reached the bottom
Reggie was already wading waist-deep
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girl in his arms.
The girl was Rosalind Bruce and she
was unconscious. They rushed her to
the hospital, then returned to the scene
of the accident.

If Was No Accident
It didn’t take Reggie long, after
studying the cliff and some footprints
(Continued on Page 169)
 .
What Strange Powers
Did The Ancients Possess?
HHl llMb
117 VERY important discovery relating to mental as the laws of breathing, eating and
' mind power, sound thinking and cause! sleeping. All fixed laws of nature are as fasci¬
and effect, as applied to self-advancement, was nating to study as they are vital to understand
known centuries ago, before the masses could for success in life.
read and write.
You can learn to find and follow every basic
Much has been written about the wise men of law of life. You can begin at any time to dis¬
pld. A popular fallacy has it that their secrets cover a whole new world of interesting truths.
pf personal power and successful living were You can start at once to awaken your inner
lost to the world. Knowledge of nature’s laws, powers of self-understanding and self-advance¬
accumulated through the ages, is never lost. ment. You can learn from one of the world’s
At times the great truths possessed by the oldest institutions, first known in America in
sages were hidden from unscrupulous men in 1694. Enjoying the high regard of hundreds
high places, but never destroyed. pf leaders, thinkers and teachers, the order is
known as the Rosicrucian Brotherhood. Its
Why Were Their Secrets Complete name is the “Ancient and Mystical
Closely Guarded? Order Rosae Crucis,” abbreviated by the ini¬
Only recently, as time is measured; not fiore tials “AMORC.” The teachings of the Order
than twenty generations ago, less than l/100th are not sold, for it is not a commercial organi¬
of 1% of the earth’s people were thought sation, nor is it a religious sect. It is a non¬
capable of receiving basic knowledge about the profit fraternity, a brotherhood in the true
laws of life, for it is an elementary truism that sense.
knowledge is power and that power cannot be
entrusted to the ignorant and the unworthy. Not Fot General Distribution
Wisdom is not readily attainable by the gen¬ Sincere men and women, in search of the truth
eral public; nor recognised when right within —those who wish to fit in with the ways of
reach. The average person absorbs a multitude the world—are invited to write for a compli¬
pf details about things, but goes through life mentary copy of the sealed booklet, “The Mas¬
without ever knowing where and how to ac¬ tery of Life.” It tells how to contact the librarian
quire mastery of the fundamentals of the inner of the archives of AMORC for this rare knowl¬
inind—that mysterious silent something which edge. This booklet is not intended for general
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ITour habits, accomplishments and weaknesses
are the effects of causes. Your thoughts and Ik* ROSICRUCIANS
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ample: The law ef compensation is as funda¬ San Jos8 California
JOHN DICKSON CARR

PROLOGUE

D USK was coming down from the Wiener Wald, and pink sunset had
already faded from the low plain where Vienna lies. There was an
echo of bells in the air. They were holding the vesper service in St.
Stephen’s. From where we sat at the cafe called The Old Fiddle, we
could see the tall fretted spire outlined against the sky. In the colored
tiles of the roof gleamed the black eagle of the Hapsburg arms.
My companion sat in the shadow, so that I could see only the red
gleam of his cigarette. On the marble-topped table between us stood two
glasses of kummel. Within reach of his hand, a loose pile of manuscript
13
A White Marble Hand is the Harbinger of
sheets lay. But we did not immediate¬ lean man, who must once have been
ly speak of the book, or of other things immensely strong. His gray-black hair
concerned with deviltry in a snow-bound was thin and long, brushed straight
house—the tin of arsenic, the hatchet back from his high forehead as in the
and the white marble hand. engravings of old statesmen. I used to
“I was thinking,” I said, “of the imagine, when I saw him in court, that
Strauss statue. And of another statue.” his whole head came out of an engrav¬
My companion made a gesture of re¬ ing.
pugnance. Judge Quayle’s dark frozen eyes
“That was six months ago,” I con¬ threw something in my direction, as
tinued, “and you have never told me literally as though he expected me to
how you knew. There was blood on the catch it. A suspicion, an accusation,
statue. You put your hand behind it a doubt, what?
and took the murderer like a rat out of “I remember when you asked it the
a hole.” first time,” he said reflectively and
He said: “The murderer was dead stared into the fire. “You had just be¬
when I got there—poor devil.” gun to write and you brought a manu¬
“It’s pretty hard to feel any sym¬ script to me for criticism.”
pathy.” “It was mere curiosity, sir,” I said.
“Oh, not for that one. I mean the He did not seem to hear me. He mut¬
other. Look here”—he touched the tered : “We were happy then. The fam¬
manuscript—“is that why you’ve writ¬ ily. My family.”
ten all this?” I looked round the library, one of
“Yes. It’s difficult for the rest of the those immense rooms which have win¬
children to be suspected. The truth dows to the floor after the fashion of
needs to be told. You were the only one the eighteen-seventies. In an ornate
who saw the truth.” chandelier there were brackets for both
“What do you want me to do?” gas and electricity. Old style book¬
“The story lacks an ending. You can cases ran round the walls. There were
supply it.” dark, very bad oils hanging in gold
We were both thinking of the vast frames above the bookcases. Long ago
jigsaw house where the murders were I had admired those paintings, no less
committed—of gas-lights, and a bran¬ than the doors of the bookcases in fig¬
dy-bottle, and cellar stairs spotted with ured glass and enamel.
blood. An old house, an old town and But in one comer of the room still
the mountains of western Pennsylvania. stood the thing which had prompted my
Somewhere in the city a great clock question. It was a statue of the Roman
be^an to strike. The boom of five was emperor Caligula in marble — toga,
dying into silence when my companion bulbous nose, loose mouth, standing in
spoke. witless ugliness with one arm extended.
“Let me show you that you were ap¬ But the arm ended in a stump. Ever
plying your theory to the wrong per¬ since I could remember the statue’s
son,” he said. “For instance . . right hand had been missing.
There was no reason why the judge
should remember a casual question,
asked a dozen years ago. I recalled the
J UDGE Quayle rose out of his chair.
He said:
night now. It had been the year our
little crowd in the town had gone away
“You asked me that question ten or to school.
twelve years ago. Why do you keep We congregated at the Quayle house
harping on it?” then. The big place had seemed magnif¬
The judge, sitting on the other side icent. It had great frame towers,
of the hearth, continued to regard me crowned in filigree, jutting up above a
with a rather hostile gaze. He was a veranda vast enough for a ballroom.

The Simmering Hates of a Panic-Stricken

Grim Doom in an Old Pennsylvania Mansion !

The lawns and gardens were luxuriant. tain patronizing air towards all novels.
There was a swimming-pool too, and And yet his judgment was uncanny.
trees where Japanese lanterns were I think it did him good to talk. He
hung at night. had few friends. His wife was a small,
On the veranda there had been unimpressive woman who smiled and
swings and wicker chairs; we lounged hurried but seemed to do nothing else.
there when mysterious dusk was com¬ There were five children, three girls and
ing down from the mountains. two boys. I had been wondering about
Sometimes we would see Judge them, for I had seen none of them in
Quayle coming from town. He drove ten years.
an ancient Hudson, which rattled, but
I HAD been here only a few minutes
in response to his own summons.
I had spoken of old times and made an
innocent remark about the Caligula
statue—asking why the hand was gone.
And suddenly terror had come into
Judge Quayle’s voice and look. Now he
sat fingering the arms of the chair and
blinking.
Judge Quayle had retired from the
bench several years before. While I was
in Europe I heard that he had had a
break with the younger son, Tom, over
Tom’s refusal to study law. Tom had
been driven out of the house. He was
his mother’s favourite and she had
never forgiven her husband.
But I had lost touch with our adoles¬
cent group which had so solemnly dis¬
cussed the future on the Quayle porch.
I had been very fond of Virginia Quayle,
the youngest. She had yellow-brown
hair and large eyes and she did not talk
much.
Judg. Quayle When I returned to town after a long
absence it was to hear that Judge
he kept the brasswork highly polished. Quayle wanted to see me. It had oc¬
He wore a dark slouch-hat, tipped curred to me why he might want to
slightly forward, and he saw few peo¬ summon me. Many times he had spok¬
ple on the street. But he wanted to en of the book he some day intended to
be genial. He would try to be when write. It should be the history of this
he met us. soil, where young Washington fought
I knew him better than the others, his first battle at Fort Necessity and
for I had what are politely called liter¬ the redcoats buried Braddock beside the
ary ambitions. I used to bring my at¬ trail. It should echo the warwhoop on
tempts to him, fearfully, for criticism. the red-lit river below Fort Redstone
Judge Quayle was descended from an and the crack of rifles. Well, I had writ¬
old line—the hard-drinking, whisky- ten books. It might be that my first
and-spittoon lawyers who did not study mentor wanted to find a publisher.
laws but made them. He bade me, The iron gates of the Quayle house
“spend my days and nights with Ad¬ sagged open. The house was as huge
dison.” He quoted Lord Bacon. It was and grotesque as ever—but now there
cold, classical advice, mixed with a cer¬ was dinginess about it.

Family Break Loose in a Torrent of Murder l

15
16 POISON IN JEST
The woman who admitted me I rec¬ bled platitudes and then, by an unfor¬
ognized with difficulty as Mary Quayle, tunate circumstance, I had made some
the eldest daughter—a bom spinster observation about the statue.
though her sleek black hair was bobbed He raised his head from contemplat¬
and she wore new clothes smartly. It ing the fire and looked at me. His eyes
was not until I mentioned my name that were weak. I noticed that his shoes
she recognized me. were shabby.
“Jeff Marie!” she cried. “Gracious, With a shade of the old lordly man¬
how you’ve changed! Do come in!” ner, he said:
She was backing away from me in “Pray forgive me. I should not be
the dimly lighted hall. She had heavy- so easily upset. But I am much alone
lidded eyes and a high-bridged nose nowadays.” A faint smile showed. “I’m
destroying beauty. Her mouth had be¬ afraid I don’t give you a very good wel¬
come thin. She made several quick come. Accept my apologies.”
efforts to smile and failed. She had “There’s nothing to apologize for,”
just been crying—not even the dim I said. “Mary told me that Mrs.Quayle
lights of the hall could disguise the red¬ was ill.”
dened eyes. He frowned. “Oh, it’s nothing ser¬
“Your father,” I suggested. “He ious. The doctor is with her now. As
asked me to come out. Er—” a matter of fact, she hasn’t been well
“Do come in, Jeff!” she repeated. She for some time. Dr. Twills is a good man
was flustered but tried to grow arch. to have around the house.”
“Imagine seeing you! Let me take your “Twills?”
overcoat. There! I know Papa will be “My son-in-law,” replied the judge.
delighted to see you. Pardon my being “He married Clarissa.”
upset, won’t you? Mother has been
ill and we’ve all been in a flurry.”
I hesitated. “Some other time—”
S O CLARISSA, the beauty . of the
family, was married. In response to
“Jeff, I insist!” A new idea brought my murmur of congratulation the judge
eager relief into her eyes. “It’s about waved a deprecating hand.
the book isn’t it? Of course!” Smiling, “Oh, they’ve been married three
she led the way through the hall. years now. I have the highest respect
I do not know what hazy impulse for Dr. Twills’ abilities. I believe,” said
prompted me to do what I did then. I the judge deliberately, “he has money
recalled a signal Tom Quayle and I used of his own. He doesn’t practise. He has
to. have. When we wanted to see the had Mrs. Quayle under observation for
judge about anything and he was busy some time. She has been depressed,
in his library, we always used two slow out of sorts.”
raps and three quick ones. I knocked “And the rest of the family?”
thus at the library door then. Judge Quayle tried to assume a fa¬
I was not prepered for the queer look therly heartiness but it was a failure.
which came to Mary’s face. From be¬ “Well, let me see—Matthew is a law¬
yond the door I heard the scrape of a yer now, you know. Doing very well.
chair pushed back and felt the hiss of Virginia is out of college, looking for
indrawn breath, the shock and stiffen¬ something to do. And Mary helps about
ing of somebody there in the library. the house.”
“Who’s there?” demanded a voice. I did not dare ask about Tom. But I
I pushed the door open. Judge Quayle could see that he was thinking of Tom.
was standing with one arm hung over It was as though some hurt brought out
the edge of the mantlepiece. The white the wrinkles on his forehead.
fingers twitched. Beyond him, in the I said: “When I heard you wanted to
corner, I saw the dusty marble statue see me, sir, I hoped it was about the
which seemed to goggle with empty book. The book you have always been
eyes. The judge’s first words were: promising to write.”
“Never knock that way, do you hear? “Eh? Oh, yes! The book of course.”
Never knock—that—way.” “You’ve finished it?”
Even after the judge had calmed He sat up straight. “Why yes. I
down, and greeted me with his rigid have prepared a manuscript, which may
courtesy, I knew that he was somehow or may not be suitable for publication.
suspicious of me. We had both mum- I am not familiar with contemporary
17
 18 POISON IN JEST
‘literature’ but certain books of Vir¬ He drank shakily. The lean figure in
ginia’s which I have chanced to pick black appeared to waver. I had a ghast¬
up—” Quite suddenly, his cold calm ly feeling that he was disintegrating
left him. Blood suffused his face. “By before me.
God, sir, it is not that they anger so “Judge Quayle!” I said. “Judge, for
much as—as they bewilder me! I wish heaven’s sake!”
I could understand?” He huddled into his chair.
“Understand?” “I am afraid you do not understand.
“Everything. Whatever I read seems They are all against me. They—they
to turn every standard upside down. are not like any children I ever thought
Nothing is believed to be true any of.” His voice was that of a querulous
longer. I don’t mean sexual morality. old man. “I had pictured how I would
I have been on the bench long enough grow old with my children—big table,
to have known every sordid side of spread for guests. Everyone laughing.
that long before your clever adolescent As my father used to have it. Grand¬
novelists were bom. I mean—” children. The boys coming to me for
He rose to his feet. advice. They—they don’t think much
“There used to be values. My family of their old dad, I guess.”
—I don’t understand my family.”
It was a lonely cry. It came from
the loneliness of this room, where an
H E HAD just lifted his glass again
when there was a knock at the door.
old man puzzled out his days. There The man who hurried in was small,
was nothing I could say. He was only rather harassed-looking. He wore a
talking at me. Finally he turned with baggy grey suit and no collar. His mild
a crooked smile. blue eyes were magnified behind big
“I still neglect my duties as host,” double-lensed spectacles but his fore¬
he observed. head was intelligent, the fair hair clip¬
Unlocking an old-fashioned bookcase- ped close above it.
desk, Judge Quayle took out a squat “She’ll be all right, father, I think,”
bottles and two glasses. he said.
“This,” he told me, “is real brandy. Rising, the judge interposed:
Do you see the seal over the cork ? My “Walter, shake hands with Mr. Marie.
grandfather put it there. They can’t Mr. Marie, Dr. Twills.”
tamper with this anyhow.” Twills started as he turned to face
He made the last remark grimly and me. Then his abstracted eyes awoke,
turned over the dusty bottle to examine and he grew even more nervous.
it with great care. He poured brandy “Oh,” he said. “Er—how d’ye do?
into the glasses and said: I didn’t know there was anybody here.”
“There was another thing I wanted
“Well, Walter?”
to ask you.”
“About the book?” “I wonder,” said the doctor apologet¬
“No. It’s been only a kind of—solace. ically, “whether I could see you a min¬
I am given to understand ” he lowered ute in private, sir? About Mrs. Quayle.
his head, studying me, “that you have If you will pardon us, Mr. Marie?”
gone in for police work.” The judge looked at him heavily.
I laughed. “Just as a spectator, sir.” “She’s not worse?”
“With this man—what was his “It isn’t that! It’s—well—”
name ?” Judge Quayle followed him out into
“Bencolin?” the hall. The lovely Clarissa’s husband,
“The head of the Paris Police,” Judge this rabbitlike, middle-aged man with
Quayle said slowly. He stared at his the nervous hands? I wondered whether
glass for a moment. Then his eyes these outbursts represented an ordi¬
began to wander about the room. They nary evening at the Quayle home. I was
encountered the statue and a fishy glaze just lifting my glass when I heard the
crept into them. judge’s snarling voice beyond the door.
“Well, sir?” “You’re lying! She never said any¬
“I should like to meet him. I—” He thing of the kind.”
took a deep drink. “I—they are trying Twills murmured something.
to scare me to death. But they won’t. “You’re lying,” the judge repeated.
Listen!” “It’s a damned plot and you’re in it!”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 19
He came banging back into the li¬ attention to anybody else, get me?”
brary. Twills followed him. The mild eyes behind those thick glasses
“You’ve got to listen, sir!” cried stared at me rather fiercely.
Twills. I said: “Look here, Doctor. What the
On the hearth-rug again the judge devil’s going on in this house ?”
whirled. His hand was raised. “Crazy work. You walked in on the
“Get out of here!” climax of it. Hurry!”
He had taken a step forward, but When I had phoned the hospital I
stopped, and in a toneless voice said: went back slowly to the library.
“Oh, my God.” Crazy work. A kind of ghastly pri¬
The pupils of his eyes were strangely vate theatrical, such as Tom Quayle, I
dilated. His hand darted to his collar. could not help thinking, would have
Through his teeth blew a sort of hideous enjoyed putting on. Tom had always
gurgling. been one of the best tellers of ghost
Twills cried, “Judge!” stories I ever heard. All the puzzling
Judge Quayle slid down to his knees, events of this night paraded past me.
gasping. He struck his head against The library was filled with a hard
the brass fender and lay motionless brightness. It was all very stolid. The
with one arm almost in the fire. bookcases as respectable as matrons—
Twills sprang past me. He bent over the bad portraits as sturdy as beef on
his father-in-law. When he turned a dinner-table. Then I saw my glass
again he was efficient and cool. of brandy and I felt a little sick. I had
“He drank from that glass?” the doc¬ almost drunk that brandy.
tor demanded. The fire had almost died. That man¬
“Yes.” telpiece had a dusty, knitted cover with
“You drank from the same bottle?” red tassels. Beside the clock stood the
“No. That is, I hadn’t begun to judge’s glass, almost empty.
drink.” What was the poison? I picked up
“Help me get him into my surgery. the dusty bottle. It was a Ferlac cherry,
He’s been poisoned!” 1870. I sniffed at the bottle, remember¬
ing that the bitter-almonds odour of
II cyanide could be concealed by cherry
brandy. But cyanide was much quicker
yw E CARRIED the judge to the in its effect—almost instantaneous.
surgery. A shaded lamp burned on a If someone had wanted to murder—
table, where many books lay open. oh, nonsense! I took up the bottle,
There was a smell of disinfectant. When along with the judge’s glass and mine,
we had Judge Quayle on an examination locked them in the cabinet and put the
table Twills turned swiftly to me. key in my pocket.
“I think I know just what it is. God Now to see about that supper-tray.
forgive me, I think I’m responsible! I had better go upstairs—the tray was
Take care of those two glasses, will you, probably still there. And how to ap¬
and see that nobody gets them?” proach this mission? Well, better say
He was stripping off his coat and rol¬ nothing about poison as yet.
ling up his sleeves. The steps were covered with thick
I said: “Sure you don’t want any red-flowered carpet but they creaked
help here?” on every tread. I felt, somehow, furtive.
“You might telephone the hospital It was now a question of meeting Mat¬
and tell them to send out a trained thew Quayle Junior, a prospect I did
nurse.” not relish. I wondered whether he was
“Bad as that?” the same. Matt had been the perennial
“For his wife. I still wonder—” college undergrad, even before he got
“If that’s poison too?” to college. You felt that you could
“ ’Fraid so. Look here, you might see sympathize with his misfortunes if only
if you can find the supper tray she used you did not have to put up with his
tonight.” enthusiasms.
“Where are the rest of the family?” Mrs. Quayle’s room was at the front
“Mary’s in the kitchen, I think. Matt’s of the house and the door was open. A
upstairs with his mother. Jinny and dim lamp lit the blue-flowered wall¬
my wife are out. But don’t pay any paper.
20 POISON IN JEST
In the bed, with untidy gray hair, For a long time we looked at each
lay Mrs. Quayle. Her face was flabby other. At length he answered softly:
and drawn, with bluish lips, and there “It’s worth a try! We’re all at our
were dark pouches under the closed wits’ end, Jeff. All right. You go see
eyelids. Even in sleep she looked tired, about that tray and come back here.
baffled, worn out. I’ll wait.”
Somebody got up hurriedly from a “Where are the rest of them?”
squeaky chair beside the bed, peering “Clarissa’s out at her bridge club.
at me uncomprehendingly. It was Jinny has a date. They won’t be in for
young Matthew Quayle but I did not some time.”
immediately look at him. I felt a lump I descended the stairs and went to
in my throat. Mrs. Quayle had been— the kitchen. There was a muffled
well, everybody had liked her. scream as I pushed open the squeaky
I beckoned Matt out into the hall. He door. Mary Quayle let fall a long-han¬
was tall, with brown hair, which had dled spoon. Very white, she stared at
begun to thin considerably, parted in me. Then she sat down and said: “I
the middle, a rather bulbous blue eye can’t stand this!”
and a reddish face. I knew exactly I put my arm around her shoulder,
what he would say. He did. felt her trembling. She clung to my
“What in the world,” said Matt hand. Her face was smeared over with
Quayle, with low-voiced heartiness, fear.
“brings you up here?” He thumped my “I’ve got to watch that oatmeal,” she
shoulder. “Come on down to my room. told me hurriedly.
Mother’s a little upset, but she’ll be all “You’d better tell me,” I suggested.
right. Haven’t seen you in years!” “You’ll feel better. And there’s no rea¬
“I came to see your father,” I.explain¬ son why an old friend shouldn’t help.”
ed. “He isn’t feeling well and Dr. Twills “I can’t tell you, Jeff!” she cried des¬
asked me if I’d step up here and see perately. “I mean, about—but some¬
about—” thing frightened me. I was so scared
I didn’t dare leave the kitchen, because
ITE LOOKED at me in surprise. the hall’s dark.”
“About Mother?” "What did you see, Mary?”
“He said something she ate upset her “It was—Jeff, as God’s my judge, this
and he wanted to know where the things is true!—it was something white.”
she’d eaten had been taken to, so he “Not seeing ghosts, Mary ?”
could find out what disagreed with “No, no! This was small. About the
her.” size of your hand.”
“Oh! Sure. Well, Joanna—that’s the In spite of myself, my smile froze.
maid—took the tray downstairs a long “Well, Mary?” I said casually.
time ago. You can probably find it in “You see there, through the door of
the kitchen. ” the pantry? You can just see the ledge*
“How is she?” of the cabinet from here—see? Well,
Matthew Quayle looked at me cur¬ something white ran along the ledge
iously. He dropped his assumed hearti¬ there and back again. It looked as
ness. A shaft of light from the room though it had legs.”
caught his worried eyes. I stepped towards the pantry door,
“Look here, Jeff,” he said, trying to snapped on the hanging light in the
be whimsical, “you haven’t—you small pantry. A window above the sink
haven’t let things—go to your head was open. I latched it and returned.
and—turned private detective or some¬ “There’s some wrapping paper,” I
thing, have you?” told Mary, “on the ledge and a breeze
“Good Lord, no! Why should I?” from that window. That’s what you
“Well, you can’t tell. These writers.”
He grinned. “I—I hope so,” she said. She was
“That isn’t the real reason, is it, regarding me with great black unwav¬
Matt?” ering eyes. “Yes! Yes, Jeff, that must
His eyes narrowed. “How much do have been what it was!”
you know?” “Suppose you go upstairs with your
“Enough to keep quiet. And I may mother and Matt. She may need atten¬
be able to help.” tion.” She rose quickly. “But first—
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 21
is your mother’s supper tray still here? sciousness, and complete paralysis—
Dr. Twills wants to see which dish upset death in a few hours.”
her.” “Never heard of it.”
“There it is in the pantry. Didn’t you “You wouldn’t have. Hyoscin is never
see?” given by the mouth when it is used
“In the pantry!” legitimately. You inject it hypodermi¬
“Yes, on the chair. I was going to cally—in very small doses—as a power¬
wash dishes. This is Joanna’s night ful sedative for mania or meningitis or
off. It hasn’t been touched.” delirium tremens. Never more than two
I went into the pantry again, saw a hundredths of a grain.”
covered tray. It looked as though some I demanded, “Then how—”
hand had recently plucked aside the “How did any member of this house¬
covering. hold have access to it? Well, I own
“Did she have the same food as the five or six grains myself.”
rest of you tonight?” It now seemed to me surprising that
“Oh, no, Jeff. She had some milk- this was the same vague, timid, weak-
toast and tea. I can’t understand why chinned man who had scurried in to
any of that would upset her.” speak to Judge Quayle.
“Who prepared it—Joanna?” “Not guilty, of course, Mr. Marie,”
“No. I did.” he murmured, “else I shouldn’t have
“Did you take it up yourself?” been quite so quick to revive him,
“No, Jeff. Matt did.” All of a sudden should I? I only meant that the stuff
her eyes clouded and she spoke fast. belonged to me.”
“Jeff, there isn’t anything wrong, is “And your supply ?”
there?” “Gone. I found it out this evening.
“No, of course not, Mary! Come I was afraid of this.” He drew a long
along now and go upstairs.” breath.
“Matt’s so careless'.” she fretted. “So,” I observed, “it looks like at¬
“But, Jeff! What on earth are you do¬ tempted murder.”
ing, wandering around like this! I left “Yes. But I see no reason why we
you with—where’s Papa?” shouldn’t deal with it ourselves.”
“He’s looking over his manuscript be¬ “The surgery is never locked?”
fore I take it with me.” “No.” He suddenly spoke with bit¬
She sighed. “I typed it for him. Oh, terness. “I don’t practise. It’s just a
Jeff, it’s wonderful! And they won’t laboratory. Somebody took a bottle of
let Papa have any peace! I get so mad deadly poision. In addition to that there
sometimes I could kill Clarissa and. are two other poisons floating around
Jinny—but they don’t mean any harm, this place. I suspected what was wrong
of course!” with the old lady tonight. I treated
her for it without letting the rest know.
I WATCHED her ascend the stair- I’m positive somebody’s been giving her
case, then took the tray to the sur¬ arsenic.”
gery. “But a third poison?”
Dr. Twills turned. He rolled down “That,” Dr. Twills responded, “isn’t
his sleeves slowly, still pale. something I want to discuss. I’ve got
“He’ll live,” said the doctor. “That to be sure first! There mustn’t be any
was a close call.” scandal!”
“Was it—” I began. He started to pace about.
“Yes. Poison. Fortunately what I “Maybe I’m morbid or something.
thought. It’s not a common poison and But I can’t get along with that gang!
it’s a damned dangerous one, Mr. Marie. They scare hell out of me. They all
If I hadn’t been right—” He gestured look at me as though they were saying,
and the pleasant eyes behind his spec¬ ‘What good are you?’ I can’t play golf
tacles crinkled up in a smile. and I can’t play bridge and I don’t
“The poison? Hydrobromide of hyos- dance, either. D’you know Clarissa?”
cin. A quarter to a half a grain is a “She’s the beauty.” I nodded.
fatal dose. You get a little delirium and Twills said bitterly: “Yes. I’m tel¬
excitement at first. Then the pupils of ling you this because I’ll respect your
the eyes become paralyzed, the mouth discretion. Because you can do all the
and throat dry. Next drowsiness, uncon¬ things I want to do. I studied in Vienna.
22 POISON
I want to go back there and specialize. friends since we were kids!”
I want to eat rolls and coffee in the “Can you get it through your head,”
morning and work all day in a labora¬ I interposed, “how serious this is?”
tory and drink a glass of beer at night He sat down. “Look here, this poison
before I go home and work some more.” business doesn’t concern Mother, does
“But can’t you?” I prompted. “Since it? I mean—she hasn’t been poisoned?”
you’re not—impecunious—” “You’ll have to ask Twills that.”
He shook his head, slowly. “Off my “Listen, Jeff!” He had become ter¬
nut for a minute, eh? Sorry. We’ll ribly earnest and rather piteous. “You
talk later. I’m going to get the judge know nobody would try what you’re
to bed on a couch here. I wish you’d talking about!”
break the news to the rest of them. He’s “Please quiet down. You promised
out of serious danger now.” to talk this thing over a while ago.”
“Just a minute,” I put in. “There are “But what is there to talk over?”
a couple of things I’d like to ask. “Well, the domestic atmosphere, for
Should you say that anybody was anx¬ instance. All relations cordial?”
ious to—to get rid of the judge or his “I stay out of all that. I’m on good
wife ?” terms with everybody. Jinny fights dad.
Twills started to answer but paused. So does Clarissa, and especially Mother.
“I’ve got my own ideas.” But if he says, ‘Come on into the libra¬
“Well then—did anybody here know ry, Matt, and let’s have a chat,’ I just
that the judge invited me here this say, ‘Sorry Dad. Got to go out.’ He
evening?” looks kind of funny sometimes,” said
“You think—he had a purpose?” Matt reflectively. “But what have I got
“No, not exactly. Did he always stay to talk about to him? Why, he never
in his library in the evenings?” even went to law school!”
“Always,” said Twills. “Wrote every Matt made his remark earnestly, and
night, regular as clockwork.”
I heard him strike the arm of his chair.
“Usually have a drink?”
“By the Lord!” he muttered. “Poison
“A glass or two. It didn’t hurt him.”
“The same stuff—brandy?” —I believe I’ve got something! I wish
“Brandy or whisky. Where are those I could remember who said it. We were
glasses ?” talking about poisons not a week ago.”
I told him, still wondering how the “Who?”
poison had been introduced into the “All of us. At the dinner table. I’d
brandy. I recalled that Judge Quayle forgotten all about it.” He scowled.
had commented on the unbroken seal “Somebody told a story about some
of the bottle and his grim words, “They Roman guy. It seems that somebody’s
can’t tamper with this'.’’ He suspected relative wanted to poison this guy but
poision, then? Or did he merely mean he was pretty cagey. He had a taster.
that nobody could sample his stock And one day they brought him some
without his knowledge? soup that was hotter than hell. The
I went upstairs after Mary and Matt taster said it was all right but to put
and I brought them down to the library. some water in it from a cooler they
Explaining that there had been an acci¬ had there. So they did and it seems the
dent, I assured them that their father relative had put poison in the water-
was entirely out of danger. The mo¬ cooler—so it killed this fellow after all.”
ment I mentioned that Twills was tak¬ “Who told the story?”
ing care of him in the surgery Mary “That’s what I can’t remember. I
bolted out of the room. I heard her think it was one of the girls. Probably
wailing, “Walter! Walter!” Jinny. She’s reading all the time.”
He paused as we heard a motor in the
'T'HROUGHOUT, Matt had not moved. drive and saw the lights of a car flash
A His lips were pressed together. After past the front windows.
a long time he remarked: “That’s Jinny or Clarissa coming
“Not so very frank, were you, Jeff?” home,” he said. “They’ll have to be
“There was no need for telling,” I told. I’d better do it myself. They
said, “until the danger was over.” might get excited.”
“Oh, come on, now, Jeff!” He looked He bustled out as steps sounded on
injured. “Look, old fellow, we’ve been the veranda.
 JOHN DICKSON CARR
Ill

NE OF the girls had been reading

Suetonius, the tale of the soup with
which Agrippina slew the elder brother
of Nero. Caligula’s statue, over there
in the corner, had drawn back its flabby
lips in a chuckle.
I stared at the Roman statue, then
whirled back to the table. I had been
asking myself how the brandy could
have been poisoned. On the table were
still scattered pieces of the seal which
had been over the cork. The wax was
clearly too old to have been tampered
with. Besides, the poisoner could not
have known which bottle the judge
would select. No. The poisoner wanted
to be sure that his victim drank the
hyoscin no matter what liquor was used.
And Judge Quayle never drank without
soda-water.
Somebody had listened too well to
that story of the deadly water-cooler.
Somebody had introduced hydrobromide
of hyoscin into the syphon.
The door opened. I started guiltily,
my hand on the syphon.
I turned and saw Virginia Quayle
looking at me from the door.
“Are they all right, Jeff?” she said
breathlessly.
Her eyes were wide and greenish and
long-lashed. Her heavy bobbed hair—
of that tawny richness—was pushed
back from a high forehead. Her mouth
was twitching at one side as though for
a crooked smile.
I took her cold hand. She was trem¬
bling.
“They’re all right, Jinny,” I said.
“Entirely!”
“It’s—pretty awful, isn’t it? What
are we going to do?”
“There’s nothing to do, Jinny. I
suppose Matt’s told you?”
She let out a little attempt at a
laugh. “Yes. He’s told me—what to
say and what not to say. It was a
shock. Can I see him, Jeff? I care a
lot about him in spite of what they say.”
“Better you don’t, for a while. He’s
in good hands.”
“Yes. Walter’s a good egg, Jeff. The
only sane person in the place if you ask
me.”
She went over slowly to sit down on
the arm of a chair. Staring at the floor,
she said in a muffled voice:
“Matt—ugh! Acting like a dirty little
 24 POISON IN JEST
shyster. All he could say was, ‘Now mentions it. It would be better if he
you mustn’t answer any questions.’ did.”
About his own father. Jeff, will you let She saw me looking over at Caligula’s
me ask you a question?” statue. She nodded and went on fierce¬
“Naturally. If I can answer it.” ly:
“Well, then.” She seemed to be strain¬ “Yes. I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it?
ing forward. “Well, then—did he do it If he imagines he sees a white marble
himself—I mean, did he try to—commit hand crawling about we’re the ones who
—suicide?” suffer.”
“I don’t think so Jinny.” “Jinny,” I interrupted, “are you cer¬
She said in a whisper: “I knew some¬ tain it’s all imagination?”
thing was going to happen. Every time She seemed to shrink within herself.
I come into the house I’m in a cold Only her eyes were enormous.
sweat, expecting it. And when Matt “Because,” I said, “it wasn’t your
was talking I suddenly thought— father who told me. It was Mary. She
"Listen, Jinny. You’ve got to brace saw it.”
up.” She spoke in a curious way and stared
“You’d brood too ,” she said vicious¬ at the cigarette. “But that would make
ly, “if you had to live in this place long. it much worse, wouldn’t it?”
Oh, well!” “Worse?”
She drew a long breath, kicked off “I mean, if he really has seen it,
her overshoes, slipped out of the coat somebody is patently scaring him. I’d
and tossed her scarf over the back of much rather believe Father was see¬
the chair. ing things than that somebody here
“After all, I haven’t even said howdy, was . . .” She shuddered.
have I? And all these years. Give me I said: “Now, look here. Your father
a cigarette. You look a lot older.” is the most practical man in the world.
“So do you. And beautiful.” Why should he be frightened by—”
A pause. She was taking a cigarette “I don’t know,” she answered de¬
from my case and she looked up stead¬ spondently.
ily. Watching the reflective green eyes, “Well, then!”
I felt somehow I had always been want¬ She said in a flat voice: “There’s no
ing to talk to Jinny Quayle. She was use arguing, Jeff. He’s been like this
at once a stranger and an old friend. ever since Tom went away.”
The tingle of stimulation with a new, “Suppose you tell me the whole
eager girl—the druglike charm of relax¬ thing.”
ing with an old friend “All right, all right.” She flung her
“Penny?” she said. cigarette towards the fireplace. “Well,
I dragged my thoughts back. “It’s you know how we used to be. We did
this place. The way people have been anything we liked and Father was too
acting tonight.” absorbed to pay much attention to us.
“What do you mean?” Mother just smiled. Tom was the only
“Well, what do you know about one she cared about. ‘Her baby’ she’d
‘something white,’ which runs along always call him. It used to humiliate
pantry shelves or window ledges?” him to death.
“He had a nasty tongue,” Jinny mur¬
SHEhysterically.
gasped. Then she began to laugh, mured thoughtfully. “Even when he
was a kid the other kids used to hate
“So it’s out! The lurid secret’s out!” him. But anyway! You went abroad.
“You know about it, Jinny?” The rest of our crowd just vegetated.”
“Know about it? Well, I ought to. Her face looked bitter. She added: “But
It started all the trouble.” She glared Tom had only one interest.”
at me. “It’s given Mother melancholia, “He used to want to be an actor.”
so badly she hardly ever speaks, and “That’s it. And Father was deter¬
made Father a wild man. It’s—” mined on his studying law. Tom hated
“But what is it?” it. Even then it wouldn’t have been so
“I don’t know. Father say it’s a bad if Tom hadn’t kept insulting Fa¬
white marble hand. At least,” she ther’s household gods. Booth and Bar¬
amended, speaking fast, “I know he rett and Irving were all ranting hams.
thinks that’s what it is. But he never Shakespeare was drivel. And so on.
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 25
“Honestly, Jeff, I didn’t know how She asked leisurely, “Business of
bad it was until the last night. I was yours?”
upstairs, and I heard the most awful “I told you not to do it. I suppose
row in the library. I think Dad hit you want this spread all over town?”
Tom. All I know is that, when I came Jinny put her hand on my arm and
running downstairs, Tom rushed out of advised: “Don’t, Jeff. It would be like
the library with blood coming out of his hitting a tub of butter.”
mouth. He was screaming, ‘I’ll kill the Matt regarded us stupidly for a mo¬
old devil!’ Mother was crying and she ment. Then he sat down and, grotesque¬
threw her arms around his neck, and ly, began to sob.
shrieked at Dad ‘You’d strike a child, “Don’t pay any attention,” he mut¬
would you?’ They were all screaming tered jerkily. “Irm afraid I’m going to
something frightful. be the next one. I’ve just been talking
“Tom was quieted but he did leave. to Twills. There was a load of arsenic
Mother was trying to hang to Tom’s in mother’s milk-toast and if she’d
coattails when he went out the door. He eaten it all—”
said to Dad, ‘Well, I told you. It’s going Jinny looked embarrassed. “Oh, well,”
to get you in the middle of the night.’ she said, “buck up, Matt.”
Then he went out and we’ve never seen She patted his back awkwardly.
him since.” “Do you know what Twills said to
Jinny swallowed hard and fumbled me?” Matt burst out. “He said, ‘I’m
for a cigarette. in charge here for once. Your lives de¬
“Dad was frantic. Mother just gave pend on me.’ And he showed me some
him a look and walked up to her room. milky stuff in a test tube. He said,
That night she tried to kill herself with ‘That’s arsenic,’ he said, ‘and I know
veronal but there wasn’t enough.” who put it in the milk-toast. I know
“Where did Tom go?” who put the hyo-something in the
“We don’t know. I knew he wouldn’t syphon.’ You take charge and do some¬
come back. He was too hard. He never thing, Jeff!”
forgave anybody anything.” So Twills also suspected the syphon!
I held out a match for her cigarette. “Very well,” I said. “Jinny was tell¬
Over its flame she gave me an oblique ing me something—about a change in
glance. the household after Tom left.”
“The rest sounds like a nightmare. In “There isn’t much that’s definite,”
the middle of the night—” Jinny explained. “Dad used to shut
“The same one?” himself up in the library and drink and
“Yes. We were late getting to bed pace up and down. Mother began to
because we had caught Mother—” She get fits of moodiness. I thought it
shuddered. “Anyhow, in the middle of would blow over. The first intimation
the night we heard a scream. I thought I had that there was a horrible change
it was Mother again but she was asleep. was one night when I was sitting with
I ran out into the hall. I saw Dad in a chap named Dal under the library
the middle of the hall in his nightshirt. window, in the swing, smoking.
Matt came out of his room, and Mary. “All of a sudden Dad came out with
By that time he said he was all right— the fiercest kind of expression in his
Dad, I mean—but he was trembling.” eyes. He roared, ‘Take that cigarette
I cut in: “Where had he been sleep¬ out of your mouth!’ Then he pitched
ing?” into Dal. He ordered me in the house.
“Downstairs, in the library. Jeff, I’ve Then I got the first of the lectures. I
got to tell you. All he could talk about had no respect for my parents or God
was ‘something white, with fingers/ or anything. Too much liberty had
that had run across the library table in ruined my brother Tom.
the moonlight.” “That was only the beginning. He
had a fiendish row with Clarissa. He
T HE emotion in that room was strung retired from the bench that autumn, to
so high that nobody could have work on his book and keep an eye on
failed to notice it. Matt Quayle, enter¬ us, he said.”
ing, could not fail to understand. “Say, listen!” Matt thrust forward a
“Jinny,” he snapped “you’ve been truculent jaw. “You’re making him out
talking.” —a—a tyrant. He wasn’t, Jeff.”
24 POISON IN JEST
“Oh, I suppose he wasn’t,” Jinny took Clarissa’s hands with a kind of
shrugged. “Not according to his code elephantine gentleness. “Now it’s all
anyhow. But it never bothered you, right, dear. Walter pulled him through.”
Matt. You were always the little white- “Why, of course, Matt! He—he
haired boy.” drank something by mistake, I sup¬
“I never made a freak of myself, if pose ?”
that’s what you mean,” said Matt. Jinny replied clearly:
“Like Tom. Or like that fool English¬ “It looks very much like attempted
man you were so crazy about.” murder with a poison one doesn’t take
“Oh, cut it out!” Jinny walked to the by mistake.”
window. The word “murder” jarred. It was
Matt appealed to me. the first time one of the Quayles had
“Fellow’s name was Rossiter. He’d used it and everyone flinched.
been kicked out of every job he ever “Don’t—say that, will you?” Matt
had. Worked up at the Summit as a rasped querulously.
bellhop or something.” “I don’t feel any better about it than
“He went away,” cried Jinny, whirl¬ you do,” responded Jinny in a monoto¬
ing. “Dad sent him away. They all go nous voice. “But we’ve got to admit it.
away. Except me.” If this keeps on we’ll all go crazy.”
“Nobody’s stopping you,” Matt point¬ “If it was anybody,” said Matt, “it
ed out. was Joanna. Or somebody who sneaked
“Oh, I admit it. I’m a Quayle. I’m in the house.”
spineless.” Jinny closed her eyes. “I “Nonsense,” said Jinny clearly.
don’t go away because I don’t care. I’m Clarissa had remained motionless, her
afraid to strike out for myself. We’ll eyes wide. Now she blurted out an ex¬
all be here until Father—” traordinary thing, for which nobody
“Gets poisoned, for instance?” de¬ was prepared.
manded Matt. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t the morphine,
A voice from the doorway cried: was it?” she asked.
“What on earth is all this fuss Matt whirled on her. “What mor¬
about?” phine?”
The voice was drawling and petulant. “Why—why,” she stammered, “you
Somehow you knew that it was the said something that wasn’t taken by
voice of a beauty whose charms have mistake. I knew Walter had been giv¬
long since ceased to be fully appreci¬ ing Mother morphine to quiet her and
ated, and knows it. Clarissa Quayle naturally I thought he might have giv¬
stood with her head thrown back and en Daddy some.” She uttered a nervous
her eyebrows raised. It was an En¬ laugh. “Oh, come, darling! You can’t
trance. It would have been comical had scare me. Why, the minute you began
she not retained vestiges of her charm. telling me about it I knew it wasn’t
“What on earth!” she repeated. serious.”
She was stripping off long white Three poisons, Twills had said. And
gloves. Her glazed, incurious eyes now, in addition to hyoscin and arsenic,
moved over us. we heard of morphine. Clarissa’s ex¬
“Listen, Clarissa,” said Matt. She planation was a lie, of course. She was
was obviously his favourite of them all. looking at us deprecatingly. Matt spoke
“It’s—it’s terrible but—somebody tried with an effort.
to poison Dad.” “What do you mean,” he said, “you
Then Mary ran in and both Mary knew it wasn’t serious ?”
and Matt began talking excitedly at “Why,I saw him! I saw Daddy stand¬
once. Clarissa was obviously alarmed, ing at the window when I came in just
yet she spoke in that same time:
“Poison Father! But that’s dreadful,
isn’t it!” IV
“Oh, Lord!” said Jinny. Clarissa
gave her a nasty look. Clarissa’s forehead wrinkled an¬
“So sorry if I’ve offended you, dear,” grily. She cried: “I saw him—really.
she observed, with viciousness. It was dark in the room, but I could
“Not at all,” said Jinny. see him in the moonlight when I took
“Let her alone!” growled Matt. He the car to the garage.”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 27
“What window?” fun out of acting the fool with a white
“The surgery window.” hand, all right! But—”
“He must have got up,” Mary wailed. Everybody stiffened. Clarissa said
“Oh, Matt, please go and see about it, with low-voiced fury: “Walter, if you
please!” have no better sense than to speak be¬
Matt hurried out. fore strangers—”
“You see, my dears,” Clarissa re¬ “That’s exactly why I’m speaking be¬
marked, “you can’t scare me, no matter fore a stranger, my dear,” Twills told
how hard you try. I knew there wasn’t her coldly. “So that somebody will be
much wrong with him.” able to look at it calmly. You’d rather
She stalked across the room and sat pretend you don’t know anything about
down. it and have your father scared out of
“Do you know,” she exclaimed, look¬ his wits.”
ing at me, “there’s something familiar Matt said heavily: “I don’t know
about your face. what you’re talking about.”
I explained the familiarity. “Oh, yes you do! This matter has got
“But of course!” Clarissa cried. “How to be thrashed out now. If it were only
do you do?” She smiled brightly and a question of a person playing a joke
extended an arm with a curving gesture —why, keep your attitude if you like
of the wrist. I restrained an impulse to and be damned to you. Buc this is mur¬
bow over it. “How delightful to see der, do you hear? They send you to the
you!” electric chair for it. If there’s some¬
Clarissa was interrupted by Dr. body like that among us we want to
Twills, who came hurrying in with Matt know it.”
at his elbow. In the enormous silence Mary whis¬
“We—oh, hello, dear,” said the doc¬ pered :
tor, checking himself. “But what are we going to do?”
His wife took one look at his baggy “Well, I think it’s agreed that we
suit and rumpled short hair. don’t want to call in the police?”
“Oh—hello, Walter,” she replied. “Oh, my God, no!” exclaimed Matt.
The doctor’s face was sardonic as he “Very well. Then let’s put it in the
went on: hands of a stranger, who will be unprej¬
“There must be some mistake about udiced. Mr. Marie, will you see what
what you saw. Judge Quayle Is asleep you can do with it?”
in my room. Are you sure you didn’t “You mean,” Matt said heavily, “to
see anybody else, my dear?” be questioned as though we—”
Clarissa shrugged. “Yes.”
“I think, Walter, that I am acquaint¬ “But I tell you, that maid—Joan¬
ed with my own father.” na—!”
“Wait a moment, please,” the doctor Twills regarded him with wrinkled
said in a hard voice. “It seems to me brows. “She’s been here only a couple
it’s about time for a showdown. Per¬ of months. She came considerably aft¬
sonally, I’ve put up with the parlor er the marble hand got to work. Will
tricks around this house for just about you go ahead, Mr. Marie?”
long enough. If anybody can get any [Turn page]
28 POISON IN JEST
LOOKED round at the circle of faces, “Wait a minute, please!” I said. “You
all trying to appear unconcerned and brought the syphon in here, Mary. Did
yet, I thought, all shakily relieved that he take a drink then ?”
some expected catastrophe at last had “Yes. I saw him pour it out and drink
happened. it. He seemed in an awfully good hu¬
“First,” I said, “is there any arsenic mor, and said he didn’t know how he’d
in the house?” get along without me.”
“Oh, yes!” Mary cried. “Lots of it, “And at what time was this?”
Jeff. For the rats.” “It was about a quarter after five
“Who bought it?” when Clarissa came back. I took the
“Well,” said Twills, smiling, “I did. soda-water in right away, and stayed
Mary asked me to.” till about half-past five.” She was
“Where,” I asked, “is it kept?” pathetically eager to help.
“In the pantry. But nobody could The poison, then—if my surmise were
get it by mistake. It has a big skull correct—had been introduced into the
and crossbones on the tin, and ‘poison’ syphon between half-past five and about
written on it.” eight o’clock, the time I arrived.
“However, anybody could get at it I continued: “Did he stay in the li¬
deliberately?” brary after that?”
“If,” Mary replied stiffly, “anybody “No, he didn’t,” Matt answered. “I
wanted to, yes.” was coming home from the office about
After that little outburst, everybody half-past five and I saw him go in the
looked at everybody else. direction of the kitchen.”
“Well, I’m certain 7 didn’t know there “He went to the cellar,” supplemen¬
was any such dangerous junk lying ted Mary.
around,” Jinny observed. “To bring up a bottle of brandy?”
“Who buys the household supplies?” They all said they didn’t know.
I asked. “Just one more thing, then. Would
They all looked at Mary, who seemed all of you mind telling me where you
again uncomfortable at being in the were between about half-past five and,
limelight. say, eight o’clock?”
“I do, Jeff. I order them from town There was a chorus of protest. Then
and the delivery wagon brings them Matt, nodding profoundly, said: “That’s
out. But since yesterday—” all right. They always want to know it.
“What about since yesterday?” You want me to begin?”
“Why, the delivery wagon from “Please.”
Sayles’—that’s where we deal—has “I got back from the office about five-
been out of order. Clarissa went in and thirty, went upstairs and looked in on
brought them out.” Mother. After that I went to my room
Clarissa squashed out her cigarette and washed up and had a look at the
in the ashtray. paper. The gong rang for supper at six
“I got them, yes,” she informed us. o’clock.”
“Like a silly errand-girl! And I was “Just a minute, please. I understood
all dressed to go out to tea.” Mary to tell me you were in the kitchen,
“You went late in the afternoon?” and that you carried up your mother’s
“Yes. So I could get there before supper-tray.”
the stores closed.” Matt snapped his fingers and laughed
“Did you get this syphon?” in a confused way. “Judas, that’s
“Syphon?” She looked at me blankly. right! Yes, I did go down, just before
“Oh! You mean the soda-water? Yes, the supper-gong. The tray was pre¬
I remember, because I had to take a lot pared and I took it up.”
of empty ones back.” “Did you pass anybody?”
“You’re sure it was this particular “Nobody but Father. He lifted the
one you bought?” cover and looked at what I was carry¬
“Yes, I suppose so. Wasn’t it, Mary?” ing.”
Mary nodded. “Yes. As soon as you “So you were the only one—”
gave it to me I took it in and put it on Quite abruptly the significance of it
the table here, because Papa had been entered Matt’s mind. His eyes pro¬
wanting it and he won’t drink anything truded. “I did not! You’re trying to tell
without soda.” me I poisoned my mother and—”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR
I said: “Not at all! Did you stay “You knew about this?” demanded
while she ate?” Jinny.
“No! I opened the door, and she was “Yes. What it amounts to is this—
dozing. I didn’t want to wake her, so I considering that the judge went to the
ut down the tray on the table and left, library immediately after dinner, at
knew she wouldn’t sleep long.” about six-forty-five, we know that the
“Why, Matt!” Mary protested. “That hyoscin was put into the syphon at
nice hot milk-toast! You let it get cold!” some time between five-thirty and six-
forty-five. A little over an hour.
M ATT turned to her and announced “What we want to know is when dur¬
gently: “Listen, dear. Somebody ing that time the judge was out of the
went in that room while Mother was library, so that the—the person had ac¬
asleep and filled your nice hot milk- cess to it. Mary heard him go to the
toast with arsenic. I don’t see that it cellar at five-thirty and Matt saw him
matters a damn whether it was hot or coming downstairs shortly after six—
cold or medium, do you?” but did anybody see him in the mean¬
“So anybody could have gone in there time?”
after you without waking your moth¬ I saw blankness on all their faces.
er?” “We shall have to wait and ask him
“Uh-huh. We didn’t start to eat for what happened during that half-hour,”
ten minutes or so because Jinny was I said.
out. Where were you, Mary?” “The point being,” murmured Twills,
“Why, I went up to see Mother— “that anybody had access to the library
quite a while after you’d taken the tray before we ate dinner.”
up. She’d just wakened up. I watched “Except me,” said Jinny. “I was in
her start to eat, then came down to the town.”
dining-room. Jinny had just come in “Except you then. Now, about the
and Clarissa was there, so we started to tray. In that ten-minute interval after
eat.” Matt took up the tray and left it in Mrs.
“I also,” interposed Dr. Twills Quayle’s room, anybody had access to
smoothly, "‘was there.” it. Any of us.”
Mary jumped. “Why, of course, Wal¬ Matt drew a deep breath.
ter! You were late getting there.” “You’re forgetting, Walter, that I
“I was in my office, working all after¬ came downstairs just after I’d left the
noon. That was when I discovered— tray on the table. And Father will
never mind. The rest of you?” testify to my being in the dining-room
“I’ve already told you I went after before we ate.”
the groceries,” answered Clarissa. “Aft¬ Jinny stood, hands on hips, watching
er I came back Jinny borrowed the car her brother with eyes of amusement.
to go into town. I went upstairs and “What a lawyer! You were the one
lay down. I didn’t leave my room until who carried the tray. You were the one
I came down to the dining-room.” with the real opportunity to put the
“I went to the lending library to get poison in. So you say now, ‘I must be
a book,” Jinny said. innocent. I have a perfect alibi after
Dr. Twills said: “Let me tell the rest the thing was done.’ ”
of it. After dinner the judge went to his Matt was aghast and helpless.
study. The hyoscin had been put in “Do you think I’d poison my own
before that time and the arsenic had mother?” he shouted.
been put in the milk-toast before that “Well, do you think any of the rest
time. So I didn’t think our subsequent of us would?”
movements count for anything. Mrs. “Wait a minute!” Dr. Twills shrilled.
Quayle was taken ill about seven- “Quiet!”
thirty.” They moved back under the furious
“Does arsenic act so rapidly, Doc¬ blinking of his eyes. The babble died.
tor?” Twills was stem.
“The dose given her does,” he re¬ “That sort of business won’t get you
sponded. “It would have killed her if anywhere,” he said. “This is a problem
I hadn’t suspected it and treated her for Mr. Marie and me and we’re going
for arsenic poisoning instead of to solve it. That is, unless you want
peripheral neuritis.” the police in.”
30 POISON IN JEST
“I’m sorry, Matt,” Jinny muttered. to send a wire like that and I knew
“I didn’t mean it. But, Walter, it’s so she’d get a crazy reply.”
ghastly!” “Doctor,” I said, “I still don’t under¬
“Well,” Twills mumbled, “your moth¬ stand your mental processes. But go
er and father are safe. The nurse is ahead.”
with your mother, and your father’s Twills sat down, smiling obscurely,
locked in the surgery. Now get this, and took out a pipe, which he began to
all of you! You’re going to bed. Mr. fill.
Marie and I will take care of this.” “There are points,” he mused, “that
They protested. Clarissa was haugh¬ I want to discuss. Dr one point in par¬
ty and vehement. She said, “Walter ticular. The strangest feature of the
you’re positively too masterful!” ironi¬ whole affair.”
cally. But he just glared at her and “That hand?”
she shut up. “Nonsense! That’s stage-play. But
Somehow, the room was cleared. It don’t you see the oddest angle of all?
had been decided that I should stay the Why, man, it’s the attitude of the fam¬
night, though I insisted on a couch in ily. Families fight—they may be at
the library. It seemed that there would swords’ points. But in a real crisis they
probably be little enough sleep that stick together. And that’s precisely
night anyway. . . . what this gang isn’t doing.”
“Remember,” I pointed out, “that
D ARKNESS, and things of darkness they’ve all been living in fear of an
came to take possession of the outburst. They know somebody is be¬
house when the lights were extin¬ hind this white-marble-hand business,
guished. I do not know why I shivered, and, when the threatened break came,
standing in the middle of the hallway, the family alliance had grown
except that from minds that decay strained.”
there may be some chemical exhalation “Poisoning, though! Poisoning is
which shrivels with dust and mould the different from play-acting with a hand.
furnishings that surround them. They might be willing to think that one
of their number had tried to scare the
Suddenly, over my shoulder, quick
old man—but hyoscin! No, no, Mr.
and sharp and rattling, there was a
Marie. When you understand why
knock at the front door. they’re acting as they do, you’ll have
Twills popped out of the library, al¬ the whole truth.”
most as though he had been expecting “Do you know it now?”
that knock. He opened the door and He took a reflective draw at his pipe.
we saw a messenger-boy holding out a “I think so. Tonight, maybe, somebody
yellow envelope. may see me voluntarily and tell me the
Twills scribbled on the receipt and truth. My door is always open.”
gave the boy a dollar. After he had “You’ve let the—person know you
shut the door he beckoned me to the suspect?”
library. “Yes.”
“It’s for Jinny,” he announced, and “Pretty dangerous, isn’t it,”
coolly tore it open. Again he smiled. “I doubt it. Any¬
“Look here!” I said, “what are you way, I’ll take the risk.” Yawning, he
doing ?” rose. “Got to turn in now.”
“Good reason, rest assured. H’m. He went over and took the syphon
That’s what she did this afternoon when from the table.
she said she went to town to get a book. “Well,” I said, “look sharp tonight!”
She sent a telegram. Here’s the an¬ “Oh—thatf” He waved his hand. “I
swer. It says: ‘Will come at once what don’t mind that. I was thinking about
do you mean all our troubles will be getting up in the morning. In Vienna,
over in a few days has the old man I used to be waked up by a grind-organ.
given in all love.’ It’s signed ‘Pat.’ ” The grinder would take off his cap and
“Who’s Pat?” lay that song out of The Pink Lady,
“Pat Rossiter. I’m going to take ecause he knew I liked it.”
care of this myself.” He took the yel¬ He tried to whistle “Beautiful Lady.”
low sheet and thrust it into the flames. One eye, dreamily pleased, was cocked
“I was afraid the young fool was going at the ceiling. “That’s what I dream
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 31
about. Listening to the grind-organ. A brand stirred uneasily in the fireplace
Well—can’t stand here gassing all and fell. But it had sounded like slow,
night, can I? G’night, Mr. Marie. Sleep cautious, shuffling footfalls upstairs.
well.” Was the crazy work to begin again?
I went over to the library door, slid
V through into the hall and closed it
again.
JLiEFT to myself, I lighted a cigarette Then a creak. The hall was very cold.
and settled down before the fire. Yes, Somebody was shuffling upstairs. I
Twills would dream of that. Then why waited and the shuffling upstairs ceased.
didn’t he go? In some baffling manner A door clicked shut somewhere.
it seemed to be connected with these It was insane to suppose that the
events. Clarissa must be willing to poisoner would be up to any tricks this
preen her hats on the Ringstrasse. night. I would go back to the library,
A nostalgia for more gracious streets leave the door open and the lights on
was stealing over me too in this cold and keep the radio playing softly. Any¬
house by the mountains. But I must body would be mad to venture out with
not think of that. somebody on watch all night.
I looked up at the portraits above the The library was dim, washed only by
bookcases. There was Judge Quayle’s that weird yellow-blue light from the
father, in a high collar and string tie. gas. It threw a big shadow of Caligula
There was Judge Quayle’s mother, with on the farther wall. I drew up a chair
a fiat face and a lace cap like Queen beside the radio and sat down facing
Victoria. Beside them was another por¬ that statue. It was not pleasant to
trait which had always intrigued my in¬ think of its arm extended behind me.
terest, for I had heard legends of this The radio stirred with faint music,
Jane McGregor. She was a fierce old far from this bleak house by the moun¬
Scotswoman, a nurse who had become tains.
one of the family when the judge’s par¬ "To thee, beautiful lady, I raise my
ents lived here. She had ruled tyranni¬ eyes—”
cally. By what caprice was the radio thinly
Jane McGregor was reputed to have swelling that song of which Twills had
known more terrifying ghost stories spoken ?
than any woman in western Pennsyl¬
vania. Not a pleasant person to have “Jeff!” said the voice of Mary Quayle.
been Judge Quayle’s nurse and to have I did not know that I had been asleep.
ruled him even after his marriage. I started up to a cold room. Murky
Jane had a half-cracked brother who daylight was in the library.
had made that statue of Caligula. He “But why on earth,” she was say¬
had ambitions of being a sculptor, and ing, “didn’t you go to bed? Come out
Judge Quayle’s father had indulged and have some coffee.”
him. He had a studio in an abandoned “Aren’t you up early?” I asked.
smoke-house, where Jane used to shriek “Oh, I’ve been up all night,” she ex¬
at him for making heathen images. plained. “Sitting with Mother and the
And then cracKed Duncan stuck a nurse. It’s nearly eight o’clock.” She
feather in his hat, joined the Ringgold looked haggard and weary though her
Cavalry and got a rifle ball through his eyes were bright.
heart at'Antietam. So he became dei¬ Getting up stiffly, I said:
fied to Jane. She insisted on bringing “Is everything—”
Caligula into the parlor of the old stone “All right? Oh, yes! Mother’s much
house and he had remained the library stronger. I was in to see Dad just a
of the new. Tom Quayle used to tell minute ago. He’s still sleeping but his
me how Jane McGregor had pictured colour’s all right and his pulse is nor¬
Duncan’s ghost, still at work on moon¬ mal. Come on!”
light nights. Ghost stories—some
queer strain—from the nurse to the fa¬
ther, then to Tom Quayle.
1 CROSSED the hall to the dining¬
room. In the long and dusky din¬
What was that noise? ing-room, Jinny was seated at the table,
I listened. There were the usual staring moodily at a cup of coffee. She
night- :reakings. There was the wind. only said:
31 POISON IN JEST
“It’s so cold in this damn’ place! Among them lay a copy of the poems cf
Haven’t you got the furnace on, Mary?” Heinrich Heine. On the bedside table
“Joanna just fixed it up, dear,” Mary a lamp was still burning. Beside it
answered soothingly. “Where is Matt?’’ stood a tin of tobacco and a glass ash¬
“Gone out for a walk. H’lo, Jeff. See tray into which ashes had been spilled
anything last night?” from a pipe.
There was a sudden bang of foot¬ It was clear that he had been reading
steps on the front steps and the front and smoking in bed when the poison
door was thrown open. Matt appeared caught him. He had felt the poison
there. overcoming him. He had made a des-
He said: “Is Walter down yet?” erate effort to get to the bathroom and
Mary shook her head. e had been no more able to cry out
“Well,” Matt said, “the light’s still than Judge Quayle had been.
burning in his room.” There was only one receptacle from
I felt a hot terror rising in my throat. which poison could have been drunk.
“He might have turned it on to dre3s,” A tumbler, containing the dregs of a
I remarked. bromide, stood on the glass shelf in the
“I knocked at his door when I came bathroom. Beside it I saw a bottle
down,” Jinny said slowly. “He didn’t containing white bromide powder, a
answer. I thought he was still asleep.” smaller bottle of aromatic spirits of am¬
In a shrill voice Matt said: monia and a spoon with traces of the
"Come on upstairs, Jeff.” powder clinging to it. A large blue bot¬
By the time we reached the top of the tle of eyewash leaned against one of the
stairs we were almost at a run My faucets. Everything else was in its
knocking at the door rattled unan¬ place.
swered. I opened the door. Every Twills had come in here, put the
light was burning brightly. syphon on the upper shelf of the closet
Matt called, “Walter!” but there was (where it stood now) and undressed.
no answer in a quiet whose sinister He had gone into the bathroom, bathed
suggestion was emphasized by the his eyes with the lotion and mixed him¬
bright lights. Then, in the tilted mir¬ self that bromide. Then—death.
ror, I caught sight of a red-and-white-
striped pajama leg.
Twills lay doubled up on the floor at
the other side of the bed. When I
N OTHING cried out a clue, nothing
gave a lead. One fact alone was
touched the little figure in the red-and- manifest. It was physically possible
white pajamas I found that it was cold. for this death to be suicide. It might
This ghastly morning, up until the be argued that Twills had attempted
time the police arrived, remains in my to kill the judge and Mrs. Quale, that
memory as one of the worst times I he had the poison and knew how to use
have ever spent. Clarissa had hysterics. it and, failing, had killed himself.
In her patronizing fashion I think she It might even be said that a belated
was as genuinely fond of her husband attack of remorse caused him to save
as it was possible for her to be fond the judge’s life after he had poisoned
of anyone—though she dramatized the the syphon. Then despair and the
thing until it was almost unbearable. hyoscin cup for himself. But this, in the
Mary was little better, though less whole history of crime, has never been
voluble, and Matt kept wandering from the way of poisoners.
room to room, appearing suddenly at Nevertheless, it offered a plausible
doors, saying, “I’m sorry,” and wan¬ enough way out of scandal for the fam¬
dering out again. ily, if only they had possessed sense
That Twills had died of hyoscin enough to realize it. But, as usual, the
poisoning I did not doubt from the first. very thing they wanted to avoid was
The face was cyanosed, the pupils of the very thing they blundered into.
the eyes dilated, and there were indica¬ Before I knew where she was, Mary
tions of convulsions preceding the coma had run wildly to the telephone and
in which he had died. He lay on the called their old family physician, Dr.
floor with his head partly under the Reed, who was also, unfortunately, the
bed. c__''kroner. She had blurted out
The bedclothes were much crumpled. something about “murder,” and “you
 JOHN DICKSON CARR IS
must get the police,” before Matt Presently there was a noise of steps
yanked the phone out of her hands. descending the stairs and Reed came in
I was still upstairs when I heard the hurriedly with Sargent following at a
front doorbell ring and I hurried down slower pace.
to see Matt admitting Dr. Reed and the "Tell them what we thought,” said
county detective. Reed.
I knew he was more than ordinarily “It’s this way,” Sargent explained.
shrewd. “We’re not a bit satisfied, Doc and I.
It is this official’s business, generally, Now, I know the judge and I respect
to make a dignified show of maintain¬ him and I want to help all I can. So
ing the public peace. Joe Sargent, who you can give it out as suicide if you
wore the badge now, was a hearty, well- want to. But it won’t go down as that,
meaning soul with a conscience. Also, I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask
he was intelligent. Dr. Reed was small, you all a lot of questions.”
wearing whiskers and glasses, and he “I suppose,” observed Matt, “you’ll
barked like a terrier. want to know where we were last night.
The four of us went into the library. Well, I never left my room after I’d
Matt, faced with the situation at last, gone upstairs. We all went up together,
was surprisingly calm. He urged on didn’t we, Jinny?”
them that an accident had occurred but
nothing more. VT
Dr Reed said, “Bosh! Don’t try any
such song and dance on me, young man. INNY looked at Matt curiously. In
I know your father too well and I know a monotonous voice she replied:
you too well. Who’s sick or who’s dead “Yes, Matt. You were very exem¬
or what is it?” plary. You went right into your room
“You see, Mr. Quayle,” Sargent inter¬ and closed the door. I saw you.”
posed, “we only want to help. Doc tells “Both your rooms are on the second
me your sister was a little upset, but I floor, are they?”
thought I’d come on out just in case— “Matt’s is,” Jinny answered in the
eh?” same indifferent voice. “Right opposite
Mother’s. Mine is on the third floor in
Matt looked from one to the other.
the tower.”
“I guess,” he muttered, “it’ll have to
Sargent inquired: “Was Mrs.
come out. Oh, go on, Jeff! You tell
Quayle’s door open?”
them!”
“Yes, it was!” said Matt. “And the
When I began my story Sargent’s big nurse was sitting so she could look out
wrinkled face wore an expression of in the hall and she’ll tell you I didn’t
mild attention and the doctor looked
leave.”
impatient. As I continued the county “And, Miss Quayle, how do you get up
detective began nervously to jingle
to the third floor?”
coins in his pocket.
“Little staircase. It’s beside the door
It sounded incredible as I was well
to Matt’s room.”
aware.
“Then it can be seen from Mrs.
The doctor snorted at the conslusion. Quayle’s room?”
He started to say, “Stuff and—” but “Yes.”
looked from Matt’s face to mine and “And you didn’t leave your room?”
was suddenly silent. “Yes, I did. Twice.”
“You might as well go up and look Her indifference seemed to rouse him.
at him,” I said. “It’s possible, even “When did you do that, Miss
probable, that he committed suicide.” Quayle?”
Dr. Reed pursed his lips. “If so, Doc¬ “Why, the first time was just after
tor, I think you’re an old enough friend I’d gone to my room. I remember—”
of the family to spare them any un¬ She paused. “It’s so funny!” she cried.
pleasantness.” “They always go downstairs for a book
“H’m,” said the doctor. “Hyoscin. in the detective stories. And that’s
By God!” just what I did. Clarissa had taken my
When they had gone Jinny came in Aphrodite—pinched it before I was
and sat down with her back to us. We halfway through. I knew I couldn’t
were all trembling. sleep so I went down after it.”
34 POISON IN JEST
“Clarissa—that is Mrs. Twills” “There is no bathroom on the third
“That’s right, Mr. Sargent.” Matt floor.”
nodded. Sargent looked a little discomfited.
Sargent looked sternly upon Jinny. “Oh! Is the bath between Mrs. Twills’
“And Mrs. Twills’ room connects with and the doctor’s rooms the only one in
the doctor’s by way of that bath. H’m, the house?”
I see. How long did you stay there?” “Naturally not. There is one at the
“Only a few minute.” rear of the hall and one between mother
“Had Dr. Twills come upstairs yet?” and father’s rooms.”
“No.” “Did the nurse hear or see you at
“Where was Mrs. Twills when you this time?”
left?” “I don’t know. Probably.” She
Jinny stared straight across at the lifted her shoulders. “Every board in
window and did not reply. the hall squeaks.”
“Pardon me, Miss Quayle.” Sargent This, then, must have been what I
raised his voice slightly. “I asked you had heard last night.
—where was she when you left?” “I see. Had Dr. Twills come up¬
Jinny said in a low voice: stairs yet?”
“She was mixing herself a bromide in “Yes, I think he had. There was a
the bathroom.” light through the transom of his door
“H’m,” said Sargeant. The breath and it had been dark before. And I
whistled through his nostrils. “You heard somebody talking in the room,
mean—for herself?” not very loud.”
“Naturally.” “Somebody talking!” repeated Sar¬
The county detective’s voice was un¬ gent. “H’m! That sounds important,
naturally loud. “Was she mixing it Miss Quayle. Who was it?”
when you went in?” “I couldn’t tell. I didn’t catch any
words.”
“No. It was when I was just about
Dr. Reed bustled in again.
to leave. She was still talking to me.”
“Well!” he said. “The judge is awake.
“But did you see her drink it?” He’ll talk to us before long. That fel¬
“No—I tell you I was just leaving.” low Twills knew his business. H’mf.
Sargent ran a hand through his Damned shame. Virginia! Suppose you
grey pompadour. “Wait now! Miss run out to the kitchen and get the
Quayle, are you sure it was the same judge something to eat. Chicken soup
bottle Dr. Twills used?” if you’ve got any—but make it with
“I don’t know. I haven’t even looked water, not milk. A little weak tea.”
in the room.” Jinny shuddered. “But
there’s only one bromide-bottle there,
as far as I know.” S ARGENT was obviously bursting
with his news. But he teetered back
“And it didnt’ affect her,” Sargent
and forth, frowning, until Jinny had
mused.
left. Then he recounted it with the
“That—that’s crazy!” Matt suddenly modest air of one who has made great
boomed out. discoveries, and wishes to deprecate
“You people,” I said, “seem to be them.
very much put out because Clarissa “Don’t like this a little bit,” Reed
wasn’t poisoned. Why not ask her?” growled. “Where is Mrs. Twills now?”
“Everything in order now,” muttered “In bed in Jinny’s room,” Matt volun¬
Sargent, scowling. “Oh, yes. I almost teered. “She wouldn’t stay in her own.
forgot. Miss Quayle, you said you Mary’s with her.”
came down from your room twice last “Let’s go up and see her. Matt, you
night. When was the second time?” stay here.” He looked me over and
Jinny raised her head in a rather added: “Maybe you’d like to come
dazed fashion. along, Mr. Marie? Help us some.”
“That was around one o’clock.” She The three of us went out into the hall.
hesitated. “I was a little afraid to go Reed carefully closed the door to the
down because I had turned off the light library.
in the second-floor hall when I left “Now then,” he said, “straight out!
Clarissa and it was dark.” Who’s doing all this? Have you any
“Why did you go down?” idea?”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 35
I shook my head. “But Mr. Sargent’s aren’t you? Want you to meet Mr.
original idea seems to be right. The Sargent. He’s the county detective,
oison must have been put into the and—”
romide-bottle early last night, and not Clarissa threw out an arm. “That’s
after the members of the household had dreadful! Oh, Doctor, I won’t see any
gone to bed. If Clarissa had gone to detective!”
bed as soon as she went upstairs some¬ “Bosh!” said the doctor genially.
body might have gone into the bath¬ “Not going to hurt you, my dear.”
room and done the work unobserved. Sargent had a soft heart. He had
But, according to Jinny, she didn’t.” come up here grimly determined to be
“But she was mixing that bromide!” the great detective. I think he had
interrupted Sargent. more than half suspected Clarissa of
“Well, we’ve just got to ask her,” the poisoning her husband. Now he mum¬
doctor said impatiently. “Look here. bled something to the effect that they
What strikes you right away about this didn’t need to question Mrs. Twills now.
business? I’ll tell you. It’s the hit-or- “Bosh!” chirped the doctor. “I’ll do
miss methods of whoever it is. It looks it myself, then.”
as though this fellow is taking a crack “No!” Sargent interposed hurriedly.
at everybody in the house. Or else—” “If it’s got to be done I’ll attend to it.
He paused. You see, Mrs. Twills, I won’t be hard
“Suicide! That’s the only other ex¬ on you. Honest!”
planation. H’m. Mrs. Twills drinks Clarissa’s terror of him was obviously
a bromide—or mixes one anyway—and fading.
she’s all right. Her husband drinks out “You know, ma’am,” said Sargent,
of the same bottle and dies. Suicide. “how your husband came to—pass on ?”
How about letting it go at that, Joe?” “No. I know they poisoned him.
I looked at the little doctor in some That’s all.”
surprise. Obviously his brief conver- “Mrs. Twills, suppose you just tell
versation with the judge had changed us everything that happened from the
his attitude if not his mind. Earlier, time you went to your room last night
Sargent would in all likelihood have as¬ until this morning.”
sented. But something was revolving “Very well. If you wish it. I saw
in Sargent’s brain. Walter when he came upstairs—”
“We’ll see,” he promised. “Let’s go “Before that, my dear!” put in the
and talk to Mrs. Twills.”
doctor. “What happened before that?”
The third floor was reached by a nar¬
row enclosed staircase going up be¬ “Oh, please!” She opened her eyes,
tween Clarissa’s room and Matt’s room. and looked appealingly at the detective.
There were several finished rooms in “I don’t know what you mean!”
the tower. Reed knocked at Clarissa’s “Just tell us everything, ma’am.
door. Start at the time you went upstairs.
The tower room was octagonal, with You had a talk with Miss Quayle—the
narrow windows on every side except little one. Didn’t you?”
that by which we entered. Under the
windows were low bookcases painted F ROM piteousness, Clarissa’s eyes
took on a hard, suspicious glaze.
white. A couple of good etchings hung
on blue walls and the furniture was “Jinny?” she demanded. “Has that
wicker, covered with chintz. A gas little devil been saying anything
fire was burning and Mary Quayle sat against—”
huddled before the low grate. Propped “It was about a book,” said the doc¬
up in a brass bed Clarissa stared at us. tor.
A couple of tears trickled down plump “Oh,” said Clarissa, letting her eye¬
cheeks. lids droop. “I do not understand what
“Dr. Reed!” she cried. “I don’t need her fondness for erotic literature has to
you. I’m all right.” do with this but if she must mention
The doctor went over and took her books of that sort even when her own
hand. father and mother and brother-in-
“Hah!” he said. “Feel better now? law—” She shrugged.
Ah, that’s good, you know how I feel, Sargent was still patient. “That
my dear. You’re strong enough to talk, wasn’t the point, Mrs. Twills. Miss
36 POISON IN JEST
Quayle came down to see you. What Well, gradually I dozed off. He was
happened then?” sitting there making some marks in a
“Why, we talked, that’s all,” said book and he seemed worried. That was
Clarissa. “What on earth has this to the last I saw of him.”
do with my husband?” Making some marks in a book! Was
“When did she leave?” it, then, Heine’s poems, the book he
“I don’t know. She didn’t stay long.” had been reading before his death? A
“What happened then?” suicide note? Or an outline of his
“I knew, Mr. Sargent, how utterly im¬ theories on this case?
possible it was for me to sleep.” She “H’m,” Reed muttered. “Worried,
was clenching her hands and staring at hey? Now don’t you think, seriously,
us earnestly. “If you could only con¬ my dear, that he might have—eh?”
ceive of the torture! Then I remem¬ “Oh, no. You didn’t know Walter,
bered poor Walter’s bromides.” or you wouldn’t even think that!” Tears
“Was he accustomed to taking them, had gathered in her eyes again. “As
Mrs. Twill?” good as he was to everybody, and as
“Almost every night. He was so hateful as—we’ve been—oh, no! Why,
high-strung, and nervous! Poor Wal¬ he wanted us to go away from here.
ter! He didn’t like it here, Mr. Sar¬ But I knew we had to stay, because he
gent.” was practically supporting the whole
“Go on, Mrs. Twills!” urged Sargent. lot of us!”
“You remember the bromides. Then In a scared way she glanced across
what?” at Mary.
“I thought one would ease me, so—” “What’s that?” said Sargent. “Sup¬
“So you took a bromide?” porting the family, you say? I thought
She caught the strange expression in the judge—”
his voice, and drew herself up to look
at him suddenly. “Why, no, Mr. Sar¬
gent, I didn’t. I mixed one. And then
MARY came bristling out of her chair
then in a sort of dry fury.
I couldn’t remember how much you put “Clarissa,” she said, “I hope you live
into the glass. I was afraid I might to regret what you’ve just said!” She
have put too much, so I poured it out whirled on the rest of us. “Isn’t it
in the wash-bowl. But why on earth do enough, with poor papa suffering the
you want to know all this?” way he is?”
My heart was beating heavily. Death “You’re not going to run down Wal¬
had brushed past Clarissa as it had ter,” Clarissa informed her coldly.
brushed past me. "He’ll get credit for what he’s done,
She cried, “Oh, my God, it wasn’t the even if he is dead. I’ll tell them what
bromide, was it?” everybody in the house knows.”
Dr. Reed strode forward and seized “Clarissa Quayle, I hope God will
her wrist. It took some time to quiet strike you dead!”
her down. At length she leaned back Mary stalked out of the room, bang¬
among the pillows. ing the door. She was so furious, so
“I see now why you asked me. I— sincere, that she spoke exactly in the
well, let me go on. I thought I would style of the old-time melodrama. Then
wait for Walter to come up, and ask Clarissa began to blubber.
him to mix the bromide for me. So I "I’m just as proud as she is. But I
left the light on in the bathroom and won’t have her saying things about
my door open.” Walter, now that he’s dead and gone.
“Nobody could have got in and Everybody knows it except maybe
poisoned the bottle then?” demanded Mother. Father was wealthy. But he
lost all his money in coal and Walter’s
“Oh, no! Walter came upstairs. He been supporting us all and we were to
was astonished to see me up. I told pretend we didn’t know anything about
him and he laughed and said, ‘That it and believe it was Father’s money.
won’t make you sleep. I’ll get you Now that Walter’s dead they shan’t
something.’ He went into his room and talk like that about him!”
got me some sort of pill. He sat down “L-let’s get out of here,” said the
by my bed and said, ‘Don’t be afraid. county detective, mopping his forehead.
Go to sleep. I’ll sit here for a while.’ Even Reed was ill at ease. “All right,”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 37
he growled. “Clarissa! Shut up, will VII
you? We’ll take care of everything.”
We made clumsy farewells, and left Sargent raised a puzzled face, and
her sniffling into a pillow. automatically looked at the sheet where
So that was why Twills could never Twills lay. “Am I sure I know poison¬
have his dream ? They had made him a er?” That, in the dead man’s own hand,
nonentity in his own house, had his disposed of suicide. But more revealing
money and his skill and his poisons and yet were those idle lines scribbled at
then, one windy morning, they had the end. I could imagine Twills sitting
killed him. beside the bed of his wife, and brood¬
“Poor little devil,” the doctor ing over a devilish problem.
growled. “To hell with it,” said his rambling
We tramped in silence down the pencil. “Let me drift in warmer climes,
creaking stairs. where there are no worries. The road to
“Now, then,” said Reed when we Mandalay, a symbol for those irkingly
stood again in the dead man’s room, confined. But no, I can’t. She’s beau¬
“there’s a lot to be done. We’ll have tiful—I love her—my wife. Helen,
the body taken in for an autopsy. We queen of the wine-dark sea. ‘Walter
can’t swear even yet that he died from Willesden Twills, Jr.’ If I only had a
hyoscin poisoning. Everything’s guess¬
work so far.” From a great distance drifted the
They had laid Twills’ body on the county detective’s voice.
bed and covered it with a sheet. On “This wasn’t suicide. That’s clear.”
the table lay that volume of Heine’s “I suppose so,” Reed said gloomily.
poems. He put down the book with an irritated
“Doc,” said the county detective, gesture. “Well, I warn you, Joe, you’ll
“I’m getting farther away from the have a job on your hands. What does all
suicide idea every minute. According that gibberish mean, anyway?”
to Mr. Marie this fellow had some idea For some reason, what he read
of what was going on. And Mrs. Twills seemed to have upset the coroner more
said he was writing in a book before than he was willing to admit.
he died. Is that the book?” “What was burned in the fireplace?
He pointed at the Heine. Reed H’mf. Do you know anything about
brushed past him and opened the book. this, Mr. Marie?”
We looked over his shoulder as he ruf- “Nothing,” I said. I caught myself
ffled the pages. On the flyleaf there in time. There was no use in dragging
was writing. in more complications.
Twills had been musing. His pencil “What about that C-seventeen some¬
had run aimlessly, then he had drawn thing, Doc?” asked Sargent. “Here it
a number of thick “O’s” and some crude is. C-seventeen H-nineteen NO-three
figures. Next appeared the date of last plus H-two-O. Looks like a chemical
night. He had written “Questions I formula.”
must Answer.” Just below it the hand¬ “It is,” said the doctor. “It’s the for¬
writing became firm. mula for morphine. Isn’t there any¬
thing but dope in this house?” He
Am I sure I know poisoner? broke off in exasperation.
What was burned in the fireplace, and why? “Morphine? But that isn’t the same
(O.K.) stuff—”
Could personality have made such impression? “No, no. Hyoscin. And it was ar¬
Medically possible? Psychologically? (Yes. senic they were giving Mrs. Quayle.
See Lambert, Grafenstein.) Morphine hasn’t been used to poison
Was it hope of money or growing canker? anybody.”
What about C„H,„NO, + H*0? Influence? “Doc,” Sargent said “you’re not hold¬
The pencil trailed off, drew aimless lines, ing out on us, are you?”
and then: “Holding out on you?” yelped Reed.
To hell with it— “Joe Sargent, you’ve got a nerve!
Ship me somewhere east of Suez Think I don’t know my business. Eh ?”
.Helen, thy beauty is to me “I didn’t say that, Doc. I only
Clarissa Twills, Walter Willesden Twills, Jr. asked—”
12/10/31. “You would. Listen. Here’s your
38 POISON IN JEST
last chance, Joe. If you dig into this nurse admitted. “But I couldn’t swear
thing, I’m telling you, you may dig up to it.”
more than you can handle.” “Three o’clock. That,” Sargent said,
“Well, Doc, that’s my business. Let’s “was about the time Dr. Twills died.’
go down and talk to the judge.” Dr. Reed rejoined us, nodding his sat¬
Reed stared at him for a moment, isfaction at the condition of the patient.
then nodded curtly. “All right. Wait! The nurse went rustling back to the
Does Mrs. Quayle know?” he asked me. sick-room and we continued on down¬
“I don’t think so. There was a ter¬ stairs.
rific row this morning but I think she Matt joined us when we went to the
was in a stupor.” surgery. Judge Quayle sat in an easy
Miss Herries, the nurse, confirmed chair, a blanket round his shoulders
this when we knocked at Mrs. Quayle’s and a pillow behind his head, holding
door. a cup of chicken-broth to his lips. He
“I’d better look in on her,” said Reed. was unshaven, gaunt. Mary, standing
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. behind his chair, retreated to the other
She’ll think I’ve been called in to help side of the room when we entered.
Twills.” “Sit down, gentlemen,” he rasped.
When he had slipped into the room "You be careful, Papa!” said Mary,
and closed the door Sargent said: looking at us malevolently. “They’ve
“Miss Herries, you were up all night, been driving us all crazy and I won’t
weren’t you?” have you upset!”
“Of course. Why?” The judge turned in a lordly way.
“I just wondered if you heard any¬ “Go out, Mary. Leave me.” Go!”
thing—a fall or a cry from the direc¬
tion of Dr. Twills’ room?”
The nurse hesitated, then answered:
HEout.glared after her as she hurried
Then his wandering eye moved
“I didn’t hear any fall or cry, Mr. back to us.
Sargent. But there was something— “You must tell me everything, gen¬
I wonder whether I ought to mention tlemen. I know they tried to poison
it.” me. If I were stronger, by God, sir,
“Go on, please!” I would strangle the truth out of some¬
“I heard someone laughing,” said body!”
Miss Herries. “They killed Twills, Judge,” said the
Perhaps it was the matter-of-fact doctor. “And they tried to kill Mrs.
way she spoke but my flesh shrank in Quayle.”
a crawling chill. With her white cos¬ “Yes. I didn’t believe that, Doctor.
tume and expressionless face the nurse Walter told me so last night, just be¬
looked horribly like Caligula’s statue. fore I was—stricken. And now Walter
“When did you hear it?” Sargent is dead. I can’t realize it.”
“Judge,” the coroner said casually,
asked.
“who did it? Joe says he’ll find out.
“It was at precisely five minutes past Why not tell us?”
three,” she replied. “I know because The judge stared at me. He spoke
I intended to administer ether hypo¬
with sudden harshness. “You did not
dermically at three-fifteen. I had sent
tell? No, no. You didn’t know. But
Miss Mary Quayle downstairs to ster¬ my family couldn’t know it either.”
ilize the needle and the door was partly “Looks like they knew everything,
open. That was when I heard someone Judge,” observed Sargent.
laughing. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Sir, when I want your opinions, I’ll
I supposed it was somebody talking in ask for them.” He looked contemptuous¬
his sleep, so I shut the door.” ly at the county detective.
I fancied that laughter, bubbling up “Just the same they do,” said the
in a quiet house. Perhaps the poisoner coroner. “Damn it, Matt Quayle, don’t
had come to gloat. play Shakespeare in front of me! If
“Did you see anybody?” Sargent in¬ you’re afraid of somebody dressed up
quired. in a sheet, if you’re afraid of this white
“No.” marble hand—”
“Or hear anything?” The judge stared.
“I may have heard footsteps,” the “Who said anything about a—”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 39
“White marble hand,” repeated the teenth century, along with her par¬
coroner. “Can’t you even say it? Why, amour, St.-Croix. That naturally led to
just about the whole family, that’s all.” a discussion of the Borgia and Dr.
The judge said hurriedly: “Then Twills was ridiculing the magical quali¬
they’re all in it. But I’ll show them!” ties ascribed to the poisons they are
He was breathing hard and I feared said to have brewed. He informed me
he might collapse again. that the Borgia in all probability used
“Listen to me,” Judge Quayle went nothing but white arsenic, the most
on. “There has been murder here— painful but least dangerous of all
yes, and attempted murder. I will spare toxics.”
no energies towards running down the Judge Quayle was the jurist now,
person who did it. If you have any speaking coldly and without haste.
questions to ask me, gentlemen, I am “He also informed me that, if he were
ready. But understand me now. I to employ an effective toxic agent, he
will not have that other subject men¬ would use conine or hyoscin. Conine is
tioned again.” the active principle of hemlock. Its
It was time to interfere. I said: crystals are odourless, almost tasteless
“Yes, Judge, that other subject is off and soluble in water but it is slower in
the track entirely. But there are a few taking effect than hyoscin. Dr. Twills
things in connection with the poison¬ showed me the hyoscin he possessed.”
ings Mr. Sargent would like to know.” Slowly the judge inclined his head.
He regarded me with cold courtesy. “Does that answer your question, Mr.
“Go ahead.” Marie ?”
“I suppose you know what poison was “Admirably, sir,” I said.
used in the attack on you?” Sargent observed suddenly: “You had
“Yes. It was hyoscin hydrobromide. a mighty lucky escape, Judge.”
An unusual poison.” He spoke without A warning jabbed me. These two had
emotion. “Crippen used hyoscin. I antagonized each other. Sargent re¬
believe it is almost the only case on sented the judge’s contempt and, the
record.” more he showed his resentment, the
Reed glanced up sharply at this men¬ more contemptuous the judge became.
tion of the little Anglo-American physi¬ “I dare say,” he said curtly.
cian who had killed his wife. I said: “I believe you told us, sir,
“Are you familiar with such things, that there was nobody else in the room
when this conversation took place.”
“I am familiar with the literature of
“That is not what I said. I said mere¬
the subject. I frequently had talks ly that I was not in the habit of dis¬
with Dr. Twills on that subject.” cussing these things in general conver¬
“Did you ever discuss such matters sation. I believe there was somebody
before other people?”
here at one time during our talk—pos¬
“To my knowledge, never. Though sibly before or after mention of the
our talk was never a secret.”
hyoscin had been made. My son Mat¬
“So that anybody could have over¬ thew came in.”
heard you?”
“It seems obvious that someone did. A bleat came from behind us. Matt
In point of fact he was explaining the cried:
properties of hyoscin to me not more “I was only in here a second and you
than two weeks ago.” know it!’
“Do you recall the circumstances?” “You will speak when you are spoken
Judge Quayle seemed annoyed, but to, sir,” said the judge.
replied equably:
“As I remember it we were discuss¬
ing the Marquise de Brinvilliers.”
M ATT muttered sulkily: “Nobody
said anything about hyoscin when
“Excuse me, Judge,” broke in Sar¬ 7 was here.”
gent, “but who was he?” “Of course,” I put in, “anybody could
Judge Quayle showed a sour impa¬ have overheard that conversation I sup¬
tience. pose. The door to the hall was open ?”
“The Marquise de Brinvilliers, Mr. “Undoubtedly.”
Sargent,” he said, “was probably the “Can you fix the date of that conver¬
most celebrated poisoner of the seven¬ sation, sir?”
 POISON IN JEST
“It was Friday, the twenty-eighth of determination in his eyes as I drove
November.” away.
“Judge,” said Sargent, “how do you When I returned at one-thirty in the
happen to remember that so exactly?” afternoon the snow had ceased but a
“It was my birthday, Mr. Sargent. thin wind sent powder scurrying.
If you were acquainted with my habits I ran the car through the iron gates,
you would know that, except on special swung round the house towards the
occasions, I always write in my library garage, which was part of the old car¬
from six-thirty to ten. I ventured to riage-house. But there was no place
consider this a special occasion.” to shelter the car against freezing. I
I risked a shot. threw a rug over the hood, staring at
“Isn’t it ture, sir, that you’re rather the big shingled place with the cupola,
relieved, at this attempt on your life?” the boarded windows and the crooked
A smile now, but fierce eyes. “Not weather-vane. A decrepit door by which
bad, young man! Yes, I am. If that is you entered the paddocks, where Judge
the best they can do—” Quayle had kept good trotters in the
Sargent was determined to take over old days, swung and creaked open.
leadership. I heard, from the interior, a muffled
“Judge,” he said, “I’ve got to ask splintering noise, a series of thuds and a
some questions. You keep talking about crash. They were followed by an out¬
‘they’ and you won’t answer straight burst of the most picturesque profanity
out. Do you suspect anybody?” I had ever heard.
“I do not.” I pulled the door open and peered
“Well then, does this mean anything inside. Grimy light filtered through a
to you?” The detective drew from his high window. Past a line of ghostly
pocket the copy of Heine’s poems. “Dr. stalls a man sat on the floor, talking
Twills wrote this before he died. He to a stairway. In one hand he held an
had an idea. Will you please look at ancient bucket, in the other what ap¬
it?” peared to be a decomposed stocking. A
I thought the judge was a little hes¬ carriage-rug hung across his shoulder.
itant as he stretched out his hand. He “Excellent!” I said. “Why don’t you
took the book and ran his eyes slowly get up?”
down the flyleaf, sat impassively scan¬ “Eh?” said the man, twisting his
ning the last writing of the man who head round. “Oh, righto.”
had saved him. He sighed and began to haul himself
to a rather surprising height, slapping
“I can make nothing of it,” he said.
dust from his coat with the stocking.
As he handed the book back I felt a A disreputable hat was stuck on the
shock like a blow over the heart. For back of his head and from his lower
his sleeve had fallen aside and I saw lip dangled a burnt-out cigarette.
that his lower arm was scored all over “Well,” he said, contemplating bucket
by the punctures of a hypodermic and stocking, “I got these anyhow.”
needle. “What the devil,” I demanded, “were
Our interview of the judge broke up you doing up there?”
at an impasse. It was past eleven o’clock “Investigating a crime,” he answered,
and high time I was getting home. with the utmost seriousness. “These
“But you’d better come out here this
afternoon,” Reed said. “You can get
them to talk.”
Sargent was silent and dogged. It was
1 CONTEMPLATED the bucket, the
stocking and the lunatic.
plain that he was determined to carry “Clues?” I said. “What crime are you
through his investigation. His first step, investigating?”
he said, would be to make the Quayles “Well,” he admitted, “I really don’t
go over everything they had told me the know. That’s the difficulty.”
night before. He walked out under the “Oh!’ I said with commendable re¬
porte-cochere with me. straint. “But don’t you think it would
“Maybe I’m not much good at this assist your investigation somewhat if
detective stuff,” he remarked, “but I’m you knew what it was you were inves¬
no dumber than the next one.” tigating?”
I did not like the look of his jaw, the “This had paint in it,” he confided,
 JOHN DICKSON CAR* 41
holding up the bucket. “Though of “I went to the Police Commissioner,”
course it may not mean anything. The Rossiter said gloomily.
point is, what sort of paint was it? This was going a little too far, but
What I really need is some data about Rossiter’s face was serious.
the snow.” “He made me one,” the young man
“Look here,” I said. “Who are you, continued. “I’d show you my badge but
anyhow?” I lost it somewhere. Got my papers
“It’s all in the mind’s eye,” he as¬ though.”
sured me. “Chap in India showed me; He produced papers and tobacco and
Yogi fella. You close your eyes, con¬ regarded them proudly.
centrate on the truth and— Oh, I say! “Good American,” he announced. “I
I’m sorry.” He appeared to remember roll my own. Chap in Mexico taught
my question and looked contrite. “My me. Watch.”
name’s Rossiter. I’m a detective.” He proceeded to construct the most
Then I remembered. That telegram ungodly cigarette ever beheld. It re¬
last night and Matt’s talk of a loony sembled an undersized cornucopia and
Englishman. The stranger was about flared out like a torch when he lighted
my own age with a sleepy, genial, home¬ it. Puffing at it with the utmost good
ly face, rather fine eyes and a perpetual humour he went on:
air of naive interest. His lean height “I should have called at the house
was wrapped in a nondescript coat of but I wanted to investigate here first
faded and dusty green and he wore a and I didn’t want to get chucked out.
dingy tie—with Harrow colours. The It’s no good trying to be diplomatic.
colours of that famous public school I can’t do it. The old boy in there”—he
hardly seemed to fit into the picture gestured—regards me as pure poison."
Matt had drawn. Suddenly he looked up in consternation.
“It’s a theory of mine,” he was con¬ “Look here, you’re not a Quayle, are
tinuing earnestly. “All in the mind’s eye. you?”
You concentrate on the truth, you close “No. Just a friend of the family.
your eyes and walk blindly forward. You mean you haven’t heard?”
And what happens ?” “Heard what?”
“Why,” I said, “you fall downstairs “Listen,” I said, “I’m a friend of the
apparently.” family and a good friend of Jinny
“Righto!” he cried triumphantly and Quayle, so don’t think this is just in¬
beamed on me. “You fall—boppo!— quisitiveness. But she sent you a tele¬
right into the center of truth. People gram, didn’t she, asking you to come on
don’t understand the pure ether of your here and saying something about ‘our
conversation, of course, and so it’s troubles will soon be over’? Didn’t
difficult to hold jobs.” He frowned. she?”
“But anyway I’d always wanted to be “Yes. Rather! Why?”
a detective. So, after I’d got the sack “Dr. Twills was poisoned last night
from every other job in New York, I and an attempt was made on the lives
became a detective.” of both Mrs.Quayle and the judge.”
“How?” I said. [Turn page]

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by PATRICK QUENTIN

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42 POISON IN JEST
“Oh, my God,” Rossiter said. “Tell to save the family trouble. Where are
you going?”
“I’ve got to see Jinny,” I said.
VIII “Oh, the little one?” Sargent said.
“She’s been acting kind of funny. She
BrIEFTLY I sketched an outline. shut herself up in the parlor and won’t
When I had finished, Rossiter only trod talk to anybody. She had a spat with
on his cigarette. the old one—Mary—and Mary called
“That’s bad.” her a cold little vixen.”
“She didn’t get your wire. Twills I made an evasive reply, hung up my
burned it. I think Jinny had had some coat and hat and went down to the
quarrel with her father and Twills was parlor, just behind the library. They
trying to protect her. I haven’t men¬ rarely used it. I opened the door on a
tioned it to anybody, not even to Jinny. room that was as cold as a graveyard,
She doesn’t know you intended to come. dim and ghostly white. In the embra¬
I don’t suppose you know the circum¬ sure of a high window, curled up on the
stances?” seat, Jinny stared out at the mountains.
“Decent of you. Look here—I mean “Oh, its you, Jeff! What on earth
to say, thanks. No, I don’t.” are you doing, standing there?”
He got up and began to pace with “Admiring you,” I said. “You’re like
enormous strides. Momentarily his fog¬ something out of Lafcadio Hearn.” I
giness and Buddha grin had disap¬ went over and sat down beside her.
peared. “Listen, Jinny. Rossiter’s here.”
“Old man,” he said, turning sud¬ She did not move or speak, but her
denly, “I’ll tell you something. I know eyes suddenly grew bright. Keeping
you think I’m potty. But I really am my voice down, I explained everything.
in the Detective Bureau, though I don’t At the conclusion she was half laughing.
belong there, and the Police Commis¬ “That’s exactly what he would do!”
sioner really did give me the job. I she said. “What do you think of him ?”
can’t tell you why. Jinny doesn’t know “Good sort.”
it. It would have been a confession of “Of course he is. But he talks such
failure, do you see?” nonsense and you can imagine how he’d
I didn’t see but I nodded. get along with Father and Matt. He
says he’s a great musician and once
“Her letters have been pretty hyster¬
he was trying to show me how to make
ical lately. When I got that telegram,
musical-glasses and he broke eleven of
why, naturally I hopped off immedi¬
Mother’s best goblets.”
ately. Do you think you could tell her
“Where did you meet him?”
to come out and see me here? With¬
She looked out at the trees with a
out any of the others knowing?”
little smile.
I nodded. All his seriousness disap¬ “He answered an advertisement for
peared. Again he sprawled his great house detective at the Summit. Came
length on the staircase. His thoughts clear from San Francisco to do it. I
seemed to be occupied with something think he believed ‘house detective’
else. I left him, went to the house ana meant something like Scotland Yard.
rang the bell. Sargent anewered. He That’s his firmest hallucination—that
looked depressed he’s a great detective.”
“Come in,” he invited in guarded I pictured the earnest stranger falling
tones, “and help me out.” downstairs and seriously talking non¬
“What’s up?” sense—and I knew how impossible he
“I’ve got Doc’s report. It was hyos- was to fit into the Quayle household.
cln, all right. He’d swallowed about a She rose hurriedly.
quarter of a grain. There was at least “I’ll go on out now. I do want to see
a grain in the bromide-bottle and traces the old fool so much!’
in the glass he drank from. The syphon, I heard her footsteps hurrying down
the one Judge Quayle used, was loaded the hall and I was left in the dusty
with it. Nearly two grains.” room, remembering all the questions I
“Then there’ll be an inquest?" should have asked. Blessed are the
“Yes. But not for a couple of days. lunatics, for it is they whom women
Doc’s still hoping something will break love.
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 43
1WENT slowly to the library, where
a frightened Slav girl stood waiting.
You know this family pretty well, don’t
you?”
Sargent sat behind the center table, “Oh, ya. I guess.”
his notebook ready. He glowered upon “Tell me—Joanna—how do they get
Joanna. She was a strong, heavy girl along? They fight, eh?”
with braids of hair across the top of This was getting into the realm of
her head. gossip, and Joanna grew expansive.
“Now then, Joanna,” Sargent said She lowered her voice.
sternly, “you know who I am, don’t “Oh, ya. All time they fight. Judge,
you?” he fight pretty one. They all have a
“Ya, I know you,” she answered big fight two, three, four week ’go.”
rapidly. “I got bru’ter Mike, he know “What was the big fight about?”
you too. You put him in lockup for he Joanna concentrated on “judge” and
make whisky. He no make whisky. I “pretty one.” “Pretty one,” I assumed,
no make whisky either.” must mean Jinny.
“Never mind that, Joanna. I want “She like sit in parlor. Cold in there
to ask you about something else.” too. She like play piano. Sometime’
“You ask me!” she challenged. “I Judge he go in—I see when I dust—he
tell you what you wan’ know.” not speak loud. He say, ‘Why you no
Sargent nodded. “Last night was play t’ings I like?’ And maybe she
your night out, wasn’t it?”’ play t’ings he like and he sit and look
“Ya.” funny. I like t’em tunes. I sit on stairs
“Where did you go?” and listen.
“I go home, like I do every night out. “She ask him somet’ing and they go
I good girl. I take eight-clock car, argue. And first she try play again,
stay wit’ my mud’er. I not come back then she get mad and he get mad too
till morning.” and she say, ‘I will marry him! I ioill,
“Now, listen! Were—you—in—the— when he has job.’ And he say, ‘But who
kitchen—here—all—day—yesterday ?” he is,—you know? Then he get mad and
“Me? In kitchen?” she repeated, say, ‘Don’ you talk to me!’—and she
dully, “No. I make beds, dust, sweep—” start bawl.”
“Were you in the kitchen all after¬ Sargent glanced over at me, his eye¬
noon?” brows raised.
She thought hard. “Ya. After lunch. “That’s all right,” I said. “Fellow
All time.” she’s in love with. Arrived today. He’s
“Joanna, you know the tin of rat- a detective.”
poison in the pantry?” “A detective, eh? Where’s he from?”
“For kill rats? Ya, I know. Ya! I “He’s an Englishman. And,” I con¬
look for it yes’ aft’noon. I hear more tinued, “he’s a special friend of the
rats. It not there.” Police Commissioner in New York.”
Sargent got excited. “Mmf!” Sargent grunted. He wanted
“Are you sure about that, Joanna? nobody horning in, especially somebody
The rat-poison wasn’t there early in who sounded impressive. I resolved to
the afternoon?” lie up hill and down dale.
“Ya! I say, ’Miss Mary, what you “He’s a little eccentric,” I explained.
do with white stuff for kill rats?’ She “But sheer genius. That’s why they’ve
say, ‘You no bother for rats. You tend got him as a special investigator. And
your cooking.’ ” he never wants any credit, Mr. Sargent.
Sargent looked at me. “It was gone He could give you a lot of help without
early in the afternoon,” he said, “and apearing in the case at all.”
it’s still gone. Joanna, who was in the Sargent was not displeased. “I didn’t
kitchen besides you that afternoon?” know Miss Quayle knew such people.
“Nobody.” Now, then, Joanna. Tell us about this
“And you’re sure you didn’t see any¬ ‘big fight’.”
body take the rat-poison?” “Was at din’r-table,” she explained.
She flapped her arms. “If I see who “They not say much when I come in
take it—why I ask her who take it? with plates.”
Please, I got go now. I got pie—” “What was the fight about?”
“Just a minute, Joanna.” Sargent “Was ’bout money, I t’ink. They talk
assumed a confidential air. “Listen. ’bout somebody cail Tom. And Judge
 44 POISON IN JEST
say soup too hot—make me take it “Oh! He just got up and left the
back to kitchen and—” table. He wouldn’t discuss it.”
And suddenly I saw why. He must
S HE paused, frightened. Mary Quayle have walked from the table, tightening
had come stalking in, her nose car¬ his pride like a belt. He wouldn’t send
ried high like her shoulders. money because he had none to send.
“Joanna,” she said coldly, “go back “We were all upset and Mother was
to the kitchen.” crying but we knew better than to cross
“It’s all right, Joanna,” the detective Papa,” Mary went on. “I’m not sure
told her, with repressed anger. “Go but I think maybe Walter did send the
ahead. Miss Quayle will answer the money anyway and signed Papa’s name
questions I was going to ask you.” to a letter. Walter was soft like that.”
“Well, I never!” cried Mary. At Sargent’s elbow lay the yellow-
“Now, Miss Quayle,” Sargent said. bound Heine in which Twills had writ¬
“You people don’t have to answer ques¬ ten those inexplicable statements. He
tions yet. But if you do, I can save you picked it up.
a lot of trouble at the inquest.” “Mr. Marie,” he said, “I’ve asked
Mary pulled herself up. “Goodness everybody here about the things the
knows, Mr. Sargent, /’to not trying to doctor wrote. And nobody has any idea
interfere with you,” she snapped. “But what they mean.” He looked sharply
I won’t have servants discussing our at Mary. “Are you sure, now, Miss
business in public.” Quayle, you don’t know? ‘Burned in
“All right, Miss Quayle. Then sup¬ the fireplace’—h’m.”
pose you tell me—what was this quarrel “I’ve already told you I don’t! Walter
at the dinner-table about money and was probably just dreaming as usual.”
somebody called Tom.” Sargent opened the book. “ ‘Was it
“Well, if you’ve got to know every¬ hope of money, or growing canker?’ ”
thing, it was about my brother Tom.” he read slowly. “Whose money? Twills’ ?
“Yes?” Do you know whether he made a will,
Miss Quayle?”
“He’s a waster and a failure and he’s
“How on earth should I know?” de¬
driven Papa nearly insane. Then he
manded Mary, stiffening. “And if you’re
had the nerve to write us and try to beg
thinking about asking Papa I’m sure
money. Mind you, the first line we’d
he wouldn’t know either.”
heard from him in years! Jinny always
“All right, Miss Quayle. Thank you.”
sides with him and so did Clarissa,
A remark of Joanna’s had made me
sometimes—and of course Mother, only
remember something Matt had told me.
she didn’t dare stand up to Papa.”
At the dinner during which this dis¬
“And they were urging him to send turbance had taken place, Joanna said,
Tom money?” the soup had been too hot, and the
“Jinny was, yes. It wasn’t a fight, judge had ordered it sent to the kitchen
really. That Joanna is a spiteful for cooling.
little—” And, according to Matt, it had been
“Waite a minute, Miss Quayle! Did at dinner that “one of the girls” had
the judge refuse?” told that Roman story of the poisoned
“Matt certainly told Tom off!” Mary water-cooler—which had been, in all
announced. “Matt sided with me and likelihood, the murderer’s inspiration.
said let Tom go straight to the devil, It seemed probable that the hot soup
where he’d always be headed. I said had suggested the story to somebody.
it would be shameful!” Which one?
Mary found it easy to be severe at a “I’ve got a statement from every¬
distance. But when she saw somebody body,” Sargent broke out suddenly.
in difficulties before her eyes—partic¬ “But it doesn’t help much. Trouble is,
ularly sickness—she would kill herself my hands are tied until we get a
with ministrations. She pitied a person murder verdict. I’d kind of like to talk
only when the person was helpless. to this detective friend of your’s.”
“But that wasn’t what I was asking “Did you learn anything new?”
you, Miss Quayle,” Sargent said patient¬ “Only about the judge’s movements,”
ly. “I wanted to know whether the Sargent replied. “At half-past five, just
Judge refused to send Tom money.” after Clarissa brought home the sy-
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 45
phon, Mary took it to her father in here. what I thought of him and requested
The judge went down into the cellar. without gentleness that he come in and
Nobody saw him until shortly after six close the window.
when Matt met him on the front stairs. “Do you mind,” he said, “if I swing
“Well, the judge has a workshop in up to the roof and crawl about a bit?”
the front part of the cellar. For the “Come in here, damn it!” I said.
last few days he’s been making shelves “Oh, righto,” he agreed sadly. There
for some preserves. So late yesterday was a series of bangs and thumps, then
afternoon he went down and worked for he unfolded his great height on the
a little less than half an hour. Then floor as I slammed down the window.
he got a bottle of brandy, came up the That ominous statement, “I rather
back stairs, put the bottle in the library, think I’ve broken some wires or some¬
went up to his room to wash his hands thing,” came back to me, and I went
and met Matt when he was coming over to test the electric lights. The
down. lights refused to work. He had prob¬
“Matt was carrying up Mrs. Quayle’s ably blown out every fuse in the house.
tray. You don’t have to go through the Sargent, who had regained his com¬
kitchen in order to go down the cellar posure, glared at Rossiter. It was
stairs. That’s why nobody saw him scarcely an auspicious time to introduce
during the time. You know the rest.” my Great Detective but it had to be
“Who’s guilty?” I said. done. Sargent’s suspicious gaze inti¬
“I don’t know,” Sargent muttered. He mated that somebody was joking.
glanced at Caligula’s statue in the cor¬ “Where is Jinny?” I asked.
ner by one window, where the light Rossiter was removing his hat and
fell bluish across its side. “With one green topcoat to display a grey worsted
exception, I could make out a case suit of good cut but in an appalling
against anybody. The only one I’m sure state of disrepair. His tie was skewered
isn’t guilty is Virginia. She was out of under one ear.
the house between five-thirty and six- “She went up to pacify the old man,”
ten. I—” he said. “I don’t want to get chucked
He paused, with a little jerk in his out, you know.” Then he beamed on
throat. Sargent. “Oh, I say! You’ll want to
I was looking at Caligula’s statue, see my credentials, won’t you?”
its smirk visible in the blue-grey light. He began taking things out of his
A moment before the rectangle of the pockets and found an ancient leather
window, framed in its draperies, had wallet, which he handed to Sargent.
been empty. Now a hand was pressed Then he sat down like a collapsing
against the pane. clothes-horse, and blinked.
Its fingers were flat, palm towards us, “Why,” said Sargent hesitating, “this
an unhealthy white. Then the fingers seems to be a certificate signed by—
began to scratch and drum on the pane. well, it says ‘High Commissioner,
For a moment the hot fear in my Metropolitan Police, New Scotland
throat prevented an outcry. Then ter¬ Yar—’ ”
ror was lost in a gust of relief and “Oh, God!” said Rossiter. “Wrong
anger. Muffled but distinct, a familiar place. Other flap. Got the thing?”
voice cried querulously: Turning over the wallet, after an¬
“I say, open the window, won’t you? other bewildered glance, Sargent nod¬
I can’t hang to the side of the house all ded. Rossiter relaxed with a sigh when
afternoon!” the wallet was returned to him.
IX “Well,” said Sargent, “of course,
we’re mighty glad, mighty pleased—”
M UNLOCKED the window, and “Not at all,” said Rossiter absently.
pushed it up angrily. Up over the sill “Look here, Mr. Sargent, if you’re
appeared Rossiter’s face. satisfied—I mean to say, do you mind
“It’s quite all right,” he assured me. not mentioning it to the others ? Thanks
“I was only trying to find out how awfully. I should be very much obliged
much of the room I could see. I walked to you if you’d give me the facts in this
around a ledge here and I rather think affair.”
I’ve broken some wires or something.” Sargent lost a little of his dubious¬
I explained, brieftly but violently, ness, sat down with his notebook and
46 POISON IN JEST
began a painstaking recital. Rossiter detective. “What do you want us to
stalked up and down the room, his jaw do?”
poked forward and on his face the rapt “Draw a picture,” said Rossiter
expression of an intoxicated crystal- triumphantly.
gazer. He had long hair, of a dark “What?”
grimy yellow, which kept flopping into
his eyes. When all the evidence had
been reviewed, he turned uncertainly.
ROSSITER grew
man, don’t you
earnest. “Man,
perceive the pro¬
“You didn’t need to tell me much,” found psychological beating it will have
he said. “You see, I know quite a lot on the solution of this case when you
already, probably more than you do draw a picture?”
yourselves. Jinny’s letters—when a “I’ll be damned if I do,” said the
woman has something on her mind she county detective. “What picture?”
always writes a long letter about some¬ “Any picture,” said Rossiter.
thing else and that’s how you get to The county detective snorted and
know.” He drummed on the edge of the flung down his pencil.
table. “But you made that suggestion “But look here,” I suggested, “what’s
about a will for instance.” the sense of this? I can’t draw and I
“I’ve got to find out about that,” said don’t think Sargent can either.”
the county detective. “Do you think ‘Oh! But that’s the whole point. If
Twills made one?" you could draw I shouldn’t be asking
Rossiter looked at him vaguely. you—should I?”
“Twills? Oh! I don’t know. I wasn’t Sargent’s sense of humour was gone.
thinking about Twills.” There was a malevolent look in his eye.
Sargent was staring at the empty So I said:
fireplace and moving his head in a “All right. Let’s try it. I suppose
curious way. this is a psychological test?”
“You act kind of crazy,” he said “Lord, no!” said Rossiter. “All I
flatly. “But I see something. I’ve been know about these things is that they
thinking about it all day and it scares always come out the way the examiner
me. Dr. Twills did make a will, I’ll bet wants them to, no matter how you an¬
you my last dollar. There are fasteners swer the questions. No, no! This isn’t
for legal documents on the table. And a test. It’s a clue.”
the judge would have drawn it for him. Sargent blurted: “Shoot. I’ll draw
‘What was burned in the fireplace, and you some pictures. Was there anything
why?’ And then: ‘Was it love of in particular?”
money?’ ” Rossiter beamed on him. “Excellent.
“Wait a minute!” I said. “You don’t The only specification is that you do
know to whom Twills might have left it rapidly—just rough sketches. Draw
his money.” me a house and a man and a woman and
“That’s just it.” Sargent nodded, and a dog or anything else that occurs to
lifted cold eyes. “He mightn’t have left you.”
it to the Quayles.” Sargent went to work with a sour
Rossiter woke up. expression and I applied myself sol¬
“I say!” He looked at us anxiously. emnly to the task. I drew a very drunk¬
“There’s something very important en-looking house with smoke coming
we’ve been neglecting and we’ve got to out of the chimney, then a man whose
do it now.” face got all out of proportion, a woman
“What’s that?” demanded Sargent. with luxuriant hair like the excelsior
“It’s all in the mind’s eye,” he ex¬ out of a packing-case and a saw-horse
plained carefully. “Here—pencils and dog.
paper. Do you mind? Sit down and Rossiter stood over us like a benevo¬
concentrate.” lent schoolmaster. When I was just
“Say!” protested Sargent, backing adding large rabbit’s ears to the dog I
away. became aware of sounds in the hall. Dr.
I found a pencil in my hand and my¬ Reed came bustling in, followed by
self pushed down into a chair. One arm Jinny.
waving, Rossiter stood before us. “I just dropped in,” sniffed the cor¬
“Ready?” he asked. oner, “to tell you—what the devil are
“Well, go ahead,” growled the county you people doing?”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 47
‘‘Sh-h-h ! ’’ Rossiter admonished. “Yes. I’ve seen everybody but Mrs.
“They’re drawing pictures.” Quayle. Is she in shape to talk?”
Sargent’s face had turned pink and “H’m. Well, we’ll go in for a few
he was making strange noises. Reed minutes now.”
stuck out his neck. The county detective glanced over at
‘ ‘They’re—what ?” Rossiter in a dubious way.
“Drawing pictures,” said Rossiter “Do you want to come along, young
cheerfully. fellow?”
“Well, well,” said the coroner. “Have “Do you mind if I join you later?”
a good time, Joe. Shall I get you some asked Rossiter, blinking at us. He
nice blocks? Or a popgun, maybe? looked at Jinny. “It takes me such a
What the hell is this—a playroom?” long time to explain things somehow,”
“It’s a clue,” explained Rossiter. he added apologetically.
“Good of you to come in and help, sir. “Oh, yes,” I said. “It’s all in the
Here’s another sheet of paper. You mind’s eye. All right. We’ll see you
draw a dog.” later.”
“I will not draw a dog!” howled Reed. Reed, Sargent and I went out into the
“Young man, who in—” hall.
“I don’t know what this is all coming
“Oh, all right,” said Rossiter. “Don’t
to,” Reed snapped, “when you let crazy
draw a dog, then. You’re only obstruct¬ people smack into the middle of every¬
ing justice, you know.” He took the thing you’re doing and sit around draw¬
papers from our hands and examined ing dogs and—drawing dogs, indeed!”
them. “Good. This is exactly what I A voice, just behind the coroner’s ear,
want.” suddenly hissed:
“Obstructing—” Reed began with a “I say!”
kind of terrifying calm. Then he whirl¬ “Gurk!” said Dr. Reed, jumping in¬
ed on Jinny. “Virginia Quayle, will voluntarily. Rossiter was standing in
you be good enough to tell me who that the door of the library, looking mysteri¬
young fool is?” ous. “Look here, young man,” said the
Jinny was half angry and half tear¬ coroner heatedly, “I’ve had about
ful. Rossiter had begun to look uncom¬ enough of this!”
fortable, as though he had been caught “I say, I’m sorry,” said Rossiter after
stealing jam. a cautious look over his shoulder. “I
“Pat Rossiter,” she said, “I should forgot something. There’s a question
have enough consideration for all of I wanted to ask you, Mr. Marie. You
us at a time like this! Please don’t knew him pretty well—”
mind him, Doctor. He’s a friend of “Knew who pretty well?” I demand¬
mine and I’ve just been to all the trou¬ ed.
ble of calming papa down!” “Tom Quayle. Jinny’s brother.”
“He’s a detective,” Sargent contrived “Yes. What did you want to ask?”
to say. “For heaven’s sake, Doc, don’t Rossiter bent forward and questioned
fly off the handle. He’s got cards from in a tense whisper:
Scotland Yard and—” “Was he fond of walking?”
“Oh, my hat,” said Rossiter dejected¬ I answered solemnly:
ly. “That tears it.” “Why, no. He would never walk any
The next few minutes were chaotic, distance if he could avoid it.”
with Reed exclaiming “Stuff and non¬ “Ah,” said Rossiter in a tone of pro¬
sense!” and Jinny, still angry, con¬ found satisfaction, “that’s what I
vinced that Rossiter was off on another thought.”
piece of nonsense. He slid mysteriously back into the
“I don’t care who he is,” snapped library and closed the door.
Reed, “or why he’s here. If you peo¬
ple want to sit around drawing dogs
go to it. I’ve got more important things
I N MRS. Quayle’s room the shades
were half drawn and the whole room
to do. This thing is all over town and seemed as tired as the dull winter after¬
it’s a murder case straight out. There noon. There was a stuffy smell of medi-
will be an inquest tomorrow afternoon
at two o’clock. Have you got all the Mrs. Quayle looked very small in the
testimony for me, Joe?” large walnut bed. Her gray wool night-
48 POISON IN JEST
gown was buttoned up around the ute?” urged the county detective. “Did
throat. Grayish hair tumbled about her you see anybody before Mary woke
face. Faded, the face was, but it still you up?”
retained traces of a bright, sparrow¬ Mrs. Quayle fumbled at her lip. “No.
like quality. but one of the girls was here before
“Come in,” she croaked, fumbling for that. I heard her walking. I called out
eyeglasses among the covers. but she didn’t answer.”
“She’s much better now, Doctor,” Sargent tried to keep his voice
Miss Herries told us. “Here’s the chart steady. “Now, ma’am! That’s what
if you’d like to look at it.” we want to know. How do you know it
Mrs. Quayle had fumbled with the was one of the girls?”
rimless glasses until she got them on “Why—wasn’t it?” she asked. “I
her nose. Her eyes were vague and thought it was. It was light and quick
frightened. She made an effort to cry steps,” Her forehead wrinkled. “Maybe
out. I was wrong.”
“Miss Herries! Miss Herries! I don’t “Mrs. Quayle,” the county detective
know these men! What are they doing insisted, “what did you do when you
in my bedroom?” heard this person walking around in
“Have you told her?” Reed asked the here ?”
nurse. “Why, nothing. I pulled up the quilt
“About Dr. Twills only,” said Miss around me and it got nice and quiet
Herries. “She kept asking for him.” again. If they wanted to hurt me I
“Dr. Reed!” squeaked the woman in didn’t care. I felt so tired.” She shiv¬
the bed. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. ered. “I’m going to die,” she added,
Did you hear about Walter?” She be¬ without any emotion. “I know it. I
gan to whimper. “Walter was my dreamed the other night that—”
friend. Who are these other men?” “Rubbish!” said the doctor. “You
“Now, now, ma’am, be quiet!” Reed won’t die. You must know by now that
urged. “You knew he was killed, didn’t somebody tried to poison you, but you
you?” didn’t die; and somebody tried to poison
“Killed?” the judge and he didn’t die.”
“Somebody gave him poison.” Mrs. Quayle’s voice crept out eerily:
“And I can’t see anything,” she mum¬ “Tried to—poison him?” She was
bled. “If they give me something I growing breathless, beseeching Reed.
just have to drink it.” “Yes, I—I knew it. I dreamed that too.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” put in Sargent. I dreamed he was dead and Tom was
“Do you mean you’re near-sighted? You standing by the coffin. But he’s all
can’t see across the room?” right?” The voice rose fretfully. “No¬
“I can see you,” she said defensively. body ever tells me anything.
We were all standing near the head of “They just let me sit in here and
the bed. rock and worry my heart out!” She
“Well,” insisted the county detective, added, in those queer, far-away tones,
“can you see the door from here ? Could “And then I dreamed Tom was stand¬
you recognize somebody who came in?” ing at the foot of my bed and smiling
“I’m old! You couldn’t expect me at me. He’s all I’ve got to live for. My
to— little baby. . . .”
Sargent indicated a marble-topped It had become a yearning, drowsy
table by the door. “That’s where Matt murmur. She seemed to be watching
Quayle said he left the supper-tray. And the window and the mountains beyond.
she was sitting by the window. I was in The nurse said gently:
hopes she might have seen something. “Don’t you think, Doctor—”
Ma’am, do you remember eating your “Oh, all right,” growled Reed. “We’ll
supper last night? Did you see your go. Give her her medicine and let her
son Matt bring up the tray?” get some sleep.”
“I—I don’t know who brought it up. “There’s just one other thing,” said
I didn’t know it was here until Mary the county detective. “Mrs. Quayle,
touched me on the shoulder and told listen, please!”
me to eat. Doctor, please tell me!— A tremulous glance as she peered up.
who are these men?” “Mrs. Quayle, this person you heard
“Now, ma’am, won’t you wait a min- in here—could it have been a man
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 49
walking on tiptoe instead of a woman?” “Walter’s dead but what of it? I don’t
“Eh? What person? I—I thought feel it at all now. I liked Walter.”
you’d gone. Nurse, make them go, “Yes, of course.”
won’t you? Read me a story out of one “I liked him,” said Clarissa, staring
of his books. I feel so tired.” at the fire, “but he wasn’t any dashing
We went out softly. Don Juan. I like Don Juans.” She
Out in the hall again we shivered in turned loftily. “But they’ll do what I
the cold. We had started downstairs say around here from now on. Walter
when Mary called: “Jeff!” There was left everything to me. They’ll be no
urgency in that whisper and I stopped. more complaining and fighting when I
“Jeff, may I see you alone a moment?” want to take a little drink like a civi¬
I dropped behind. She waited until lized person. I’m the head of this house
the others had reached the lower floor, now!”
then put her hand on my arm. Her eyes were suddenly full of tears.
“Jeff, you’ve got to do something. “But they won’t talk about Walter.
Clarissa’s drunk.” If Mother and Father had been dead
“Drunk ?” we could’ve gone away. But while
“Yes. She’s still up in Jinny’s room they’re alive—I couldn’t. Only I
and I’m afraid she’ll go out and Papa wouldn’t like to travel with Walter. He
will see her. She’s talking wildly and makes me ashamed of him.”
she’s hid the key so I can’t lock her “Steady!” I said, as the whining
in and she’s drunk enough so she wants voice rose higher and higher.
more. I’m afraid she’ll go down in the “That’s why I was afraid they’d
cellar after some of Papa’s liquor, and think I did it,” she went on. “Because
he’ll meet her. That would be worse. I’ve often thought if Father and Mother
Won’t you go up and see what you can and Walter were all dead I could go
do?” away and I thought everybody was
There was nothing I could do, of reading my thoughts.”
course. But I remembered a certain “Pull yourself together! Do you
well-known Latin proverb, and thought hear?”
that some truth might be stimulated
At my snappish command she tried
out of the stately Clarissa. So I followed
to recover her poise. She groped beside
Mary upstairs.
her chair, brought up a tumbler half full
of whisky and water and drained it.
X “Well,” she said, with a kind of grim
F bravado, “I won’t be as easy as Walter
OR some reason it is impossible was. I know Matt’s been faking Wal¬
to define, I shall always regard that ter’s accounts. I won’t be cheated. And
walk up the attic staircase as the real there won’t be any more fancy dresses
prelude to the horrors in this house. for Jinny—little numbers that cost one
My knocking rattled on the door of and two hundred dollars.”
Jinny’s room. Mary remained outside,
I soothed her down presently. Trying
as I went in.
to extract information from her was
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” Clarissa greeted
useless.
me. “Come in, great detective. Come
right in! Ha-ha.” “What’s more,” she whirled to say
Her neglige somewhat disordered, she as I was going towards the door, “I’ve
was sitting in a wicker chair before the been thinking a lot and I have a good
as grate. Her eyes were bright and idea who is doing all this.”
er mouth somewhat loose—but she I stopped.
was even more the Great Lady and “No, I’m not telling,” she snapped.
blinked upon me with slightly amused “All in good time maybe. But just re¬
patronage. member I was in the room next door
“Have a chair,” she invited, indi¬ to the bathroom when somebody poison¬
cating one with a queenly gesture. “I’d ed that bromide-bottle. It was in the
offer you a drink only there’s just a afternoon and I was there all right!”
drop left.” “If you know anything, Clarissa—”
“Feeling better?” Her face grew sullen. Tact and brow¬
“And I shall stay the way I am be¬ beating were both unavailing to make
cause I do not give a damn,” she said. her talk. She would just contemplate
M POISON IN JEST
her glass and mutter. I left her hud¬ bother them half as much if the par¬
dled before the fire. ents were dead."
Mary was waiting anxiously in the “You mean,” said Sargent, “you hon¬
hall outside. But sne agreed that the estly think Mrs. Twills would be capa¬
only possible course was to leave Claris¬ ble of doing a thing like that, loving
sa to her tipsy meditations. her husband and her parents?”
Mary went to the kitchen and I “Bosh! She doesn’t love anybody.
descended to the library. Voices were But they’ve been brought up with fam¬
upraised as I opened the door. Reed ily ties drilled into ’em. They wouldn’t
and Sargent were arguing. think of doubting their duties to their
“Shut that door,” Reed ordered and relatives but all of a sudden they’d go
glowered at me through his gold-rim¬ crazy and just wipe them out. And
med glasses. “Where have you been?” this woman stood to get a fortune all
“Seeing Mrs. Twill.” her own. What do you think, Mr.
“Well?” demanded Reed. Marie?”
“She knows something,” I said. “Or It followed so uncannily what Claris¬
else she’s just drunk and thinks she sa herself had been telling me, admit¬
does. But just when she got to the ting her secret wish to have her par¬
edge of being talkative she shut up ents and her husband dead, that I grew
again.” uneasy.
“H’m,” said Reed. “Joe and I have “It’s possible,” I said. “But you’d
been talking. And it strikes me that it’s have to prove it.”
time to put the cards on the table. Can “Right. But who had the best op¬
anybody overhear us now?” portunity? She could have poisoned
“I don’t think so.” the bromide-bottle without anybody
knowing. Nobody saw her all yesterday
R EED spoke with great intensity.
afternoon from half-past five to six
o’clock. She was supposed to be in her
“All right. You say you’ve been room but who saw her ? She could have
talking to Clarissa. What do you want put the arsenic in her mother’s tray
to bet she isn’t the poisoner.” before she came down to dinner. And
“That won’t work!” protested Sar¬ her mother heard ‘one of the girls’ in
gent. “It won’t work, I tell you, Doc.” that room.
“Prejudice aside, Doctor, what have “Who could have pumped Dr. Twills
you got against her?” I asked. about poisons without his knowing?
“ ’Mf,” Reed snapped. “Now, Joe, Who knew that Twills was in the habit
listen to me. That woman’s a danger¬ of taking a bromide every night of his
ous case. She’s got Queen Elizabeth life ? Who knew that there was a fresh
ideas. Well, she had a husband who syphon of soda-water in the library,
wasn’t like a movie hero and parents right handy and convenient?”
who didn’t treat her like a movie hero¬ “Hold on a minute!” Sargent pro¬
ine and she got sick of it . . . tested. “Mary knew about that syphon
“Wait!” he ordered, waving his hand too. She took it in to the judge and
irritably at Sargent. “You’re going to was there while he took a drink.”
ask me why she didn’t just go away? Reed snorted. “Bosh! Next to Vir¬
Well, that’s the hellish part of it. I’ve ginia, Mary has the most complete alibi
known these cases before. Girls who of anybody here. She was in the kitchen
want to go to the big city. As long as with the maid from half-past five to
their parents were alive they’d rage and six o’clock. Now, then. Who stood to
storm but feel duty-bound to stick by gain from Twills’ death ? Clarissa did.
’em—work till they dropped to help Eh?”
support their families. “Don’t forget, Doc,” Sargent retort¬
“And here’s the funny part—they’d ed, “that she almost drank from that
rather kill their parents than refuse to bromide-bottle herself.”
help support ’em! If they were dead “Joe Sargent, sometimes I think
the girl would kid herself it was the you’re a moron!” squeaked Reed. “The
judgment of God and decide she was woman’s not an utter fool. That’s the
free. It’s the ties that count. They kind of cunning she would use. She lets
don’t want to run away, for they’d still somebody see her about to drink a
feel the ties. And conscience wouldn’t bromide—but she doesn’t drink it. She
 JOHN DICKSON CARR SI
knew there wasn’t any danger from an “Chapters,” said Rossiter.
ordinary dose. But she poured it out all There was a pause, then Rossiter con¬
the same.” tinued :
Sargent picked up the copy of Heine. “I really think there are too many
“All very good, Doc,” he said bitter¬ of those little brass thingummies. If
ly. “Now suppose you explain what’s you were merely going to clip one docu¬
written here.” ment together, you wouldn’t need so
“Hmf. Well, look here. ‘Am I sure many, would you?” He rumpled his
I know poisoner?’ He’s sitting by his hair. “I say, Mr. Marie, you came out
wife’s bed while he writes that. He’s here to have a look at the judge’s manu¬
looking at her and wondering and not script, didn’t you? I wonder where it
positive. ‘What was burned in the fire¬
place, and why?’ I’ll tell you. It was Sargent pulled open the table drawer.
the doctor’s will. If he died intestate “It’s in a devilish mess, isn’t it?”
she got everything. Eh?" asked Rossiter. “I looked there. Some¬
“That will has something to do with body seems to have been through it
it, I’ll admit. But—” before us. But there isn’t any manu¬
“Look here,” I said, “why are you script. I rather think it’s been burned.”
people assuming there was a will? We “Well?” Reed cried. “Why should
haven’t heard of any. But just as soon anybody bum his manuscript? You
as we heard of something being burned mean it hasn’t got anything to do with
in the fireplace, everybody jumped to the will?”
the conclusion that it was a will. What “It has quite a lot to do with the
reason have we got for thinking so?” will, I’m afraid,” said Rossiter. “You
might ask Judge Quayle.”
S ARGENT replied in a quieter tone: “I’ll get him,” Sargent said. “Wait
“Well, for one thing, that fireplace here.”
over there is the only one in the house When he had gone Rossiter slid down
where anything can be burned. The into the chair. He produced his ciga¬
others are gas. Whatever was burned rette-papers and constructed another of
must have been paper. For another those weird cigarettes. Behind that
thing, that young Rossiter had a good fiery beacon he smoked with evident
suggestion. The brass fasteners on the enjoyment.
table are used for clipping sheets of “Young man,” Reed said with asper¬
legal paper together. And they might ity, “I don’t get you. Come on, now!
have been used for the doctor’s will Out with it! What have you been up
right here in this room.” to?”
“Oh, I say!” a voice protested sud¬ “Getting information about Judge
denly, in very distressed tones. “It Quayle’s parents,” said Rossiter. “And
won’t do, you know. I never said any¬ his nurse. Especially his nurse—the
thing of the kind.” one he had when he was a child. Of
Reed whirled and glared in the direc¬ course I didn’t know he had one until
tion of the voice. None of us had heard Mrs. Quayle told me.’ ’
Rossiter come in. He was perched on
“You’ve been disturbing Mrs.
the back of a chair like a large-boned
Quayle?”
goblin, blinking at us.
“I can’t let myself be misquoted.” He “Oh, I say! I’m the only one she will
smiled vaguely. “I’m certain something see. We get on famously. I showed her
was burned. And I did mention a will. some new card tricks.
But I never said anything about Dr. “Card tricks?”
Twills. Really I didn’t.” “I’m tremendously good at it. Chap
“Well, who else would make a will?” in a medicine-show taught me. I used
demanded Sargent. “Judge Quayle? to do them for Mrs. Quayle hours on
There wouldn’t be any point in burning end.” An experimental gleam crept into
that." his eye. “I wish you’d let me try some
Rossiter looked thoughtful. “Quite. on you. You mustn’t mind if they don’t
But you can use those little brass come out right the first three or four
thingummies to clip other things be¬ times. Mrs. Quayle never did.”
sides legal documents.” “I don’t want to see any card tricks!
“Well?” What I was asking you—I suppose you
52 POISON IN JEST
heard everything I said about Mrs. law had inherited his money. It did
Twills.” not interest him in particular.”
“Oh, well,” said Rossiter, “if you in¬ “Then your son had his power of
sist in talking about the dashed case— attorney?”
I overheard you.” He shook his head “Yes.” The judge showed no annoy¬
sadly. “It’s all eyewash, sir. I’m ter¬ ance. “I have been occupying myself
ribly sorry to have to tell you but that’s with literary work for so long that I
what it is. Eyewash.” have lost my touch.”
The door opened and Rossiter got up, “Speaking of literary work, Judge,”
looking very uncomfortable when he Sargent said casually, “I understand
saw Judge Quayle. you had a manuscript you wanted to
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” said show Mr. Marie. Is that right?”
the judge. “Ah. Good afternoon, Mr. “That is true. But I fail to see how
Rossiter. My daughter told me you it could possibly interest you, Mr.
were here.” Sargent.”
He spoke with a sort of grim af¬
fability. There was about him a sort of T HE REPLY infuriated the county
detective. Sargent waited a mo¬
brittle brightness, a sense of repressed
mirth. ment until he could speak smoothly.
He was freshly shaven, his long hair “Well, it does interest me, Judge. I
was brushed stiffly and he wore his read books occasionally.”
best black clothes with a black bow tie Judge Quayle answered, with ironical
and an enoromously high collar. He amusement, “If you are interested, Mr.
went over and sat down behind the Sargent, let me show it to you.”
table. He pulled open the drawer of the
“Now then, gentlemen.” He looked table.
from one to the other of us. “Mr. Sar¬ We were all bending forward and the
gent tells me you have some further judge must have felt the tensity. But he
questions to ask me. I am entirely at did not look up and we could hear his
your service.” hands moving mechanically, shifting
“What we really wanted to ask you, papers, long after he had ceased to
Judge,” said Sargent, coming forward, search.
“is this—Did Dr. Twills make a will?” Sargent’s voice sounded crude in the
“He did. I drew it myself.” hush when he said:
“Where is the will now?” “It might have got misplaced, Judge.”
“In the possession of my son Mat¬ Reed snapped, “You can write it
thew at his office in the safe.” again!”
“Do you mind telling us what the Suddenly Judge Quayle got to his
provisions of the will were ?” feet. That gaunt figure slowly walked
Judge Quayle’s eyelids drooped over to the door, turned there.
slightly. “I am afraid you do not understand,
“Dr. Twills never made a secret of gentlemen,” he said, in a steady, husky
its contents.” He lifted his shoulder voice. “I am not concerned about the
a trifle. “Aside from a few small be¬ loss of the manuscript.”
quests, the bulk of the estate was left He laid his hand on the knob of the
unreservedly to my daughter Clarissa. door.
He had no surviving relatives with the “But they must—hate me—very
exception of two aunts in Florida who much.”
are wealthy in their own right.” The door closed. We heard the foot¬
“None of the other bequests were falls of an old man going slowly, blindly
large, you say?” down the hall.
“Certainly not large enough to have The echo of those strange words hung
inspired murder, Mr. Sargent. There in the twilight, shaking the nerves of
were no bequests to members of this all of us.
family.” “Well—” the coroner said at last.
“Dr. Twills was wealthy?” “Well!”
“I am not in a position to state accu¬ The county detective raised his head,
rately. My son Matthew will undoubt¬ muttered irrelevantly: “I’ve got two
edly be able to tell you. He handled the boys. One of them’s at Annapolis. I—
doctor’s financial affairs. My son-in- Will you drive me in town, Doc ?”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR S3
Rossiter did not move when I accom¬ Rossiter jerked my arm. The big
panied Reed and Sargent out to the figure came nearer at its stumbling
door. Reed went hurrying out to race walk, staring at the light with blind
the motor of his car viciously. Sargent eyes, passing us, speaking no word. I
assured me that he would return before felt Rossiter’s finger grow crushing on
long, shook hands vacantly several my arm and I looked where he pointed.
times. Then I saw the judge’s feet had left
The coroner’s old sedan went grind¬ a trail of small dark smears on the
ing arid bumping down the drive. I grey rug. With a ghastly half-smile,
paced up and down the porch. Dark¬ he lifted his hand to wipe it down the
ness, pressing closer, reminded me— front of his coat—I saw that it was
the lights had not worked in the library stained with blood.
when I tried them some time ago. Ros¬
siter had probably blown out the fuse. XI
We must have them repaired or the
women would get hysterical. R OSSITER made the first move. I
I had grown numb with the cold and felt the thud of his big shoulder as he
I found myself shivering. I went back bumped past me. Then I was racing
into the house. Fumbling for the light- after him towards the cellar door. We
switch on the off-chance, I pressed it. were through the door almost together,
There was no response. For some rea¬ crashing down a wooden staircase into
son, I abruptly felt that we needed darkness.
light. We had to thrust away these But far ahead I could see a gleam of
shadows. On the wall just by the library light. It flickered and I thought I could
door there was an ancient gas-bracket. see blood on the floor.
It seemed to take a great while to find The front of the cellar was in a de¬
matches in my pocket. The match rasp¬ pression and reached by three steps. At
ed and spurted up—a fluttering yellow- the front was a heavy workbench with
blue glow trembled out in the hallway. shelves along the wall. Beside these
Then I heard the scream. shelves the wall of the coal-bin threw
It did not seem to come from any¬ dense shadow. A candle in a tin holder
where. It seemed to rise, shrill but was burning on the workbench. It illu¬
muffled, from somewhere behind me. minated the dusty pane of a high win¬
All the hall was full of it. I whirled. dow.
The hall was still empty, dingy and For an instant we stared at the
feebly lighted. I started to run toward candle-flame. Then our eyes were at¬
the stairs, then realized I did not know tracted by a shining dark fluid which
from which direction the scream had was crawling along the stone floor.
come. Turning back, I saw Rossiter Some horror was breathing in the
standing in the doorway of the library. very flame of the candle. A little rivulet
His face was white. of blood seemed to dart towards us.
“What—” he said, “what was—” Rossiter went blundering down the
Somewhere in the house there were three steps into the dark shadows near
footsteps. Heavy, echoing and hollow the coal-bin. I could do nothing but
footsteps. They seemed to move, dis¬ follow him.
embodied, in the hall itself. Then they “There’s the handle of something
grew louder and I knew that they had here,’ ’he said. “It feels like a hatchet.”
come from the cellar. They began to as¬ Looking ashy-green, he said, “It is a
cend the stairs. hatchet! It’s been driven—in her head.
Rossiter jumped forward, then halted It’s Twills’ wife. It’s Clarissa!”
with his hand lifted. The door to the I heard Rossiter’s words but I didn’t
cellar stairs was being slowly opened. believe them. It was too monstrous.
We could see the outline of a figure Desperately I kept trying to wrench
grow huge there, the pale glimmer of away fear.
a face. The footsteps began to creak on Then Rossiter struck a match. After
the floor of the hall, coming nearer. the first shock of the sight, it was
His face bloodless and his eyes red, easier.
Judge Quayle loomed up. He seemed Clarissa dead. She lay spread-eagled
to be walking in his sleep. in the black neglige, limp as a sack.
“Judge!” I shouted. Her legs, in black silk stockings, were
54 POISON IN JEST
sprawled and beside her lay a smashed Painfully it pushed itself up on one
bottle. There was a heavy odor of knee and I saw that it was Tom Quayle.
whisky. I stared, stupefied. Tom Quayle, with
The hatchet had gone into the brain sickening fright in his eyes; pale, and
just above the right ear and it was still thin, and ill.
wedged there, its handle resting against I said his name aloud.
the floor. “Who—who’s there?” he cried. Then
I heard my own voice speaking— his voice broke. “Oh, my God!” he
eerie and unnatural. kept repeating, and rocked himself
“She wanted more whisky,” I said. backwards and forwards. “I can’t
“She was drunk. So she came down stand it!”
here and—” Rossiter’s voice snapped out of the
“Lock that door,” said Rossiter. gloom.
“Don’t let them come down here. “Is this the chap who ran away?”
Hurry!” “Yes,” I said. “Tom! Brace up! It’s
I stumbled along the cellar, and up Jeff Marie, Tom. Steady now!”
the stairs. Somebody up in the house “Help me up,” he said. “I’m sick. I
was screaming hysterically and there shouldn’t have run. I just got out of the
was movement in the hall. In the dim hospital.” He was gasping and he stag¬
gaslight I saw somebody running to¬ gered as I extended my hand. “I was
wards me. I snatched the key from the afraid to go in,” he continued in a
outside of the door, locked it, then lean¬ whisper. “I—I’m cold. I haven’t any
ed against the wall to wipe cold sweat overcoat.”
from my forehead. On shrinking legs “Oh, dash it,” Rossiter said uncom¬
I went back. fortably. “Here, take it easy. Let’s go
I could not think of Clarissa with a inside.”
cloven skull—dead—knowing the an¬
swer to all the riddles now. But there WEfigure
SUPPORTED the small, thin
across the lawn. Rossiter
she lay with her black hair stiff-matted
in blood. took off his own jacket and put it over
My eyes had strayed to the grimy Tom’s shoulders.
window. I cried, “Rossiter!” When we rang at the front door foot¬
There was a face looking in at the steps came running. Jinny, pale and
window! wild-eyed, flung the door open. When
“The window—look!” I yelled. she saw the man between us her lips
Rossiter glanced up stupidly. Then shook.
I had run past him, jumped on top of “There’s no time to talk,” I said.
the workbench and begun to wrench “He’s come back. Never mind how.
frantically at the fastenings of the win¬ Where are the rest?”
dow. It jerked out with a hideous “I’ll get back through that cellar win¬
screech. I swung up to the top of the dow,” said Rossiter. “You try to ex¬
shelves and wriggled blindly through plain things.”
the cellar window. He had gone when I closed the door.
My hands were raked by gravel as “Father—” Jinny whispered. “Fa¬
I pulled myself up. Streaking off to¬ ther!”
wards the swimming pool, I saw a “Where.is he?”
running figure. I had just started to “Who is it, Jeff? Is it Clarissa?”
run when Rossiter was beside me. She paused.
“Head him off!” I yelled. “To the Another shrill cry came from upstairs
left! I’ll take the right!” and Mary appeared at the head of the
The figure ahead was running errati¬ stairs. She screamed:
cally, zigzagging. I shouted, but he did “He’s all over blood! He’s hurt!”
not pause. Then I saw Rossiter sweep “Jinny,” I said desperately, “if you
round ahead of me. Never have I seen ever did anything in your life do it now.
a man travel as he did then. There was Go up and quiet her. Can you?”
a sobbing gasp, then a thud and silence. With an unsteady hand she pushed
“I’ve got him,” called Rossiter. the bronze hair back.
I brushed away a dead branch and “I’ll try. I’ll try.’ ’
saw a figure lying on the ground, sob¬ “All right. Go up there, then come
bing and mumbling incoherent words. in the library.”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 55
I hustled Tom into the library, stum¬ of the coal-bin. She seemed—well, as
bled across the room and lighted the though she was drunk.”
three mantles in the chandelier. Tom He swallowed hard, lifting his thin
slowly sat down. shoulders. “She went over and looked
His jauntiness was gone. His sullen¬ in the coal-bin. I couldn’t see what was
ness and fire were gone. Sitting there on the other side of the partition. But
clasping his hands together, his narrow I heard Clarissa say, ‘Oh, my God,
shoulders trembling. The dark curling youV ”
hair spilled out from under a greasy Tom threw out his arms. “Then there
cap. He had a wool muffler wound was a sort of scuffling, and something
round his throat under the coat of a went plunk on the floor. It was a can of
loud-striped shabby suit. His dark face some kind.”
was as handsome as ever but pinched (The can of rat-poison, knocked from
with illness and prematurely old. the murderer’s hand behind that par¬
“I’ve got no guts,” he said suddenly, tition where Clarissa was looking upon
staring blankly across the room. “No the face of the poisoner at last.)
guts—here I am again.” “I heard it roll on the floor,” Tom
The keys of the bookcase desk, where rushed on. “There was some more
the brandy was kept, were still in my scuffling, when I saw Clarissa run out
pocket. The brandy was harmless, we from behind the partition. I heard the
had discovered. I unlocked the cabinet, hatchet hit'.” he said wildly. “It was a
took out the bottle and handed it to hatchet. I saw it. And blood spurted so
him. He drank greedily. far it sizzled in the candle-flame. May¬
“Go easy,” I said. “When did you be I’m seeing things. But I never saw
eat last?” anything so horrible! I didn’t see any¬
“Yesterday afternoon.” His voice was body but I saw her body being pulled
husky but the warmth of the brandy back. That finished me!”
eased him; he relaxed. “I feel—much “Did you scream?” I demanded.
better. It’s been pretty bad. Jeff, what’s “No. I was too scared. I started to
happened?” run. But I couldn’t get any farther
“What were you doing, looking in than a tree, and I just lay there shaking.
that window?” I saw people come out on the porch and
His laboured breathing was loud. two men get in a car and drive away.
“Listen! Tell me something now. Am Then I saw somebody walking up and
I light-headed? I mean, did I just think down on the porch.” He shuddered. “I
I saw something—down there? Oh, my got to thinking I was crazy. I thought
God, I may be losing my mind!” Sudden¬ maybe I might die there on the lawn.”
ly he covered his eyes with his hands.
“What did you think you saw?”
He took away his hands. The eyes
A FIT of coughing struck him, and
there were tears in his eyes. He
were glassy. looked even more childish than in the
“Yes. I just imagined it. Low vital¬ old days.
ity. I thought I saw somebody— “I thought I’d just imagined it. So
Clarissa; my sister Clarissa—hit with at last I thought I’d go back and look
—something. I saw blood.” in again and, if I didn’t see anything,
“Did you see who hit her?” then I must have been seeing things
“No. That’s why I know I must have the first time. You chased me when I
imagined—and yet I even heard talking. looked in.” He shook his head des¬
Listen. I’ve got to tell it. I only got pondently. “Everything’s crazy.”
here this afternoon. I was afraid to go Tom jerked round nervously as Jinny
to the front door, so I walked around entered. She took in the frayed clothes,
the house. But the house was all dark the hangdog air, the pleading. Then she
except a light in the cellar window. I came over to put her arm around him.
looked down in there as I went past—” “You look bad, old boy!” she said.
“Well?” “Dear old—I can’t welcome you, much,
“There was a candle on that work¬ Tom. It’s too awful here. But every¬
bench. I saw Clarissa come over from thing’s all right for you now.” Her smile
the other side of the cellar. She had a brimmed into tears as she looked at
bottle under her arm. I heard her say, me. “We’ve got him back now, Jeff.
‘Who’s there?’ and look in the direction We’ll keep him. Now tell me—what’s
happened? I’ve got to know. How did Where had the members of tne house¬
you find Tom? What’s—down there? hold been when the killer struck? Judge
Don’t be afraid. I can stand it.” Quayle—it was inconceivable.
“Clarissa is dead,” I said slowly. “It’s So entangled in my brain was the
murder again.” vision of the murderer with the thought
“Clarissa—” Tom mumbled, “Clar¬ of a beast that I jumped involuntarily
issa—then I’m not crazy! What are when the door opened and Rossiter
you talking about? What do you mean, entered.
‘again’ ?” “I’ve locked the cellar again,” Ros¬
“But why?” Jinny demanded abrupt¬ siter said, closing the library door after
ly. “Why kill Clarissa?” him. “Where is Tom ?”
I only said: “It’s difficult to face, “Getting something to eat. He’ll be
Jinny. There may be any number of back shortly. What did you find out?”
reasons.” I offered him my cigarette-case be¬
“Well?” cause his hands were not calm enough
Still I hesitated. The obvious con¬ to roll a cigarette of his own.
clusion was there from Tom’s story. “Not much more,” he answered and
Every indication seemed to point inex¬ drew smoke into his lungs with relief.
orably to one person. “There were some crates split for kin¬
“It might have been,” I said, “be¬ dling-wood just behind that partition.
cause the murderer was recognized by The hatchet must have been lying
Clarissa. She said she had an idea who against them. The murderer must have
it was. And also the murder of both been hiding there and picked up the
Clarissa and Walter Twills may have hatchet on the spur of the moment.
been part of a prearranged plan. Twills What did Tom Quayle say?”
had the money and died. Clarissa would
have had the money to do with as she T NARRATED the conversation.
wished.” “The wine-bins,” he said, “are over
“You’re still holding back something, on the opposite side of the cellar. About
Jeff.” that candle—was Clarissa carrying
“I hate to say it. But you saw who it?”
came upstairs from the cellar with “No. Tom said it was on the work¬
blood on his hands, didn’t you?” bench when he first saw Clarissa.”
“You don’t mean,” Jinny whispered, “I found the tin of arsenic,” he said.
“that Father—” “Buried in the coal-pile.”
“I don’t believe it either. But Sar¬ “You think it had been there all the
gent is suspicious already. Where is time?”
your father now?”
“No. Anybody shoveling coal couldn’t
“Upstairs. I saw him—washing his
have failed to see it if it had been there
hands. And the water in the bowl before. No. I rather suspect the mur¬
was—”
derer just shoved it into the coal after
“Steady!” I commanded as her voice
Clarissa had been killed. But there
grew hysterical. “You’d better take
wasn’t any hysocin bottle. I’m afraid
Tom out in the kitchen and get him
the murderer isn’t through.”
something to eat. He hasn’t had any
food since yesterday.” Though I had been expecting this
Tom was sunk into a half stupor. She the words struck me with a chill.
led him out unresisting. “And why isn’t he through?” de¬
I hammered my knuckles against my manded Rossiter. “That’s the hellish
head. It was narrowing down, but to part of it. It’s so obvious—and so ghast¬
what? There now showed a ghastly ly—I’m tempted to wash my hands of
bestiality, worse by far than the sly the whole business. I’m tempted to take
cowardice of the poisoner. Something Jinny and get out of here.”
much more savage and relentless than “Why?”
anything we had imagined—to have “Because if I stay,” Rossiter said in
wielded a hatchet in that fashion. In a queer voice, “I shall have to tell them
this house there was literally an evil the truth.”
spirit. Drag the devil out from behind I stared at him. The expression of
its kindly face! But how to find the the intoxicated crystal-gazer had come
devil? back. But there was something in h:_
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 57
hushed nervousness which made my distorted outlook. Suppose the judge
throat dry and tight. imagined that somebody was trying to
“You—you think you know?” scare him to death with a white marble
“I’m afraid so. Good Lord, why hand? An hallucination so strong he
doesn’t somebody else see it? Except refused to discuss the hand at all. He
me? It’s so infernally obvious!” conceives that the whole house is
“It looks bad,” I said, “for Judge leagued against him. He told us as
Quayle.” much.
“Yes,” he replied. “Yes. Very bad.” “Twills must have known about the
“And if Sargent can prove he did all morphine. Twills may have suspected
this—” that the judge, in a kind of insane drug-
Rossiter jumped as though he had induced revenge, wanted to kill every¬
been stung. “Judge Quayle? Who said body in the house. And he had told the
anything about him being guilty?” judge all about hyoscin. You know the
“Didn’t you?” judge’s personality—his stiffness, his
“Hang it, why has everybody got to conception of family duties, his whole
get me wrong? I never in the' world outlook. The breaking-down of that
thought the old boy did it.” personality by his family may have
I mopped my forehead. “Why, I driven him to striking out with mur¬
thought you—” der.”
“You mean,” Rossiter interupted, I took up the copy of Heine’s poems
“you think he deliberately poisoned from the table.
himself to avert suspicion?” I said, “It answers each of the ques¬
“I’m not telling you I think it,” I tions Twills wrote down.”
said sharply. “It’s what Sargent prob¬
ably ha>s in his mind. Suppose the whole Am I sure I know poisoner?
plot was directed at Twills and Clarissa? What was burned in the fireplace, and why?
The poisoning of Mrs. Quayle, and the Could personality have made such an impres¬
poisoning of himself constituted a blind. sion? Medically possible? Psychologically?
“He gave Mrs. Quayle arsenic, know¬ (Yes. See Lambert, Grafenstein)
ing that Twills would detect it and pre¬ Was it hope of money, or growing canker?
vent her death. He took hyoscin him¬ What about CitHwNOs + HsO? Influence?
self when he knew Twills would be at
hand, instantly suspect hyoscin and I put the book down slowly. “And
save him. Remember he only sipped, Question Number Three, the motive,”
sparingly, that drink he poured for I said, “is the only one answered with
himself—and left almost all of it un¬ a ‘yes’—by the authority of two famous
touched on the mantelpiece.” psychologists.”
“Wait a minute!” begged Rossiter,
waving his hand. “How did he poison T HERE was a long silence. Rossiter
ruffled his hair.
Mrs. Quayle’s milk-toast?”
“Have you forgotten,” I said, “that “You don’t believe all that, do you?”
when Matt was carrying the tray up¬ he asked.
stairs, Judge Quayle stopped Matt, “I didn’t say I believed it. I said
lifted the cover of the tray?” Sargent probably did. Yes, and Reed.”
I hesitated. “Reed probably noticed the
XII hypodermic marks on the judge’s arm.
I think he jumped to the conclusion
KvERY small point began to dove¬ that the judge might have gone crazy
tail in my brain with damning signifi¬ with drugs and done all this. He was
cance. certainly trying to shield the judge and
“If,” I went on, “we concede that he worked like the devil to make every¬
Twills suspected this plot everything body think Twills’ death was suicide.
that Twills said and wrote grows clear¬ That was what made Sargent sus¬
er. Did you know that the judge has picious in the first place.”
been using morphine ?” We heard somebody descending the
“I don’t know how you knew that,” stairs and fell silent. There was the
Rossiter said dully. “Jinny told me protesting murmur of a woman’s voice,
she suspected it.” then Judge Quayle’s gruff tones. Ros¬
“It brings dreams and fancies and a siter stamped over to the window. He
 58 POISON IN JEST
was staring out blankly when the judge “Yes. Oh, God yes!”
entered. “Where were you then?”
Old and hollow Judge Quayle looked “In the pantry.”
now. He shook off Mary’s hand and “The pantry door,” I said, “com¬
said: municates with the landing of the cellar
“I’m all right. Let go, do you hear! stairs, doesn’t it. Did you go and look?”
Gentlemen”—he peered at us—“I fear “No! I didn’t dare. And—and I
I was indisposed a while ago. Allow me couldn’t tell where it came from.”
to sit down.” “Had you been in the pantry long?”
He groped over after a chair. “Twenty minutes, anyhow. Oh,
“The nerves will stand just so much. Jeff—”
It is not given to many people to see “And did you hear anybody go
what I saw.” down?”
“Don’t talk about it, Papa!” cried “Y-yes. I heard Father, because I
Mary. know his step. And two other people
The judge said in a far-away voice: before him. But I didn’t see them, Jeff.
“I presume, gentlemen, you have been One went down a long time before Fa¬
to the cellar?” ther and another just a few minutes
I nodded. before Father. They must have been
“The strange part is,” he went on, Clarissa—”
“that I cannot remember how I got “Where was Joanna?”
there. I recall leaving this room. I “Cleaning the silver on the storm
wandered into the dining-room. The porch. But she was in and out a lot.
next thing I recall”—his hand was She may have seen somebody.”
pressed hard to his forehead—“I had “Mary,” I said, “will you please ask
started down the cellar stairs. I felt Joanna to step in here?”
that if I could work with my hands—” There was a difficult task ahead of
Mary gripped his shoulder as he half me now. Judge Quayle was sitting im¬
rose. passive.
“No matter,” he muttered. “I went I crossed the room and stood before
forward. There was a light ahead of him.
me. A candle. Then I stumbled on “I have some news for you, sir,” I
something on the floor and put my said. “Your son Tom is here. Steady
hands down to feel it.” now!”
“Was it you who cried out?” I asked His hands had gripped the chair-
hurriedly. arms. Slowly his eyes moved to me.
Blood had begun to fill the big veins “I am somewhat glad,” he said.
in his forehead. It had been a mere whisper. But the
“Eh? I don know. I may have.” iron stiffness seemed suddenly to have
My theories were being swamped out. gone out of his joints and he had the
He never once thought he ought to be appearance of one who, after a night
suspected. He never once protested his of horrors, drifts into cool rest.
innocence. It never occurred to him.
Might these horrors have come during W ITH his eyes closed, he spoke:
“I trust my son is well?”
blank spots in his brain?
“When did you go down there, “He has been in the hospital, sir.
Judge?” I asked. “Just before Mr. But he is better now.”
Rossiter and I saw you in the hall?” “Yes. He wrote us. I was glad to
“It must have been. I believe I was send him what money he needed.”
there only a moment.” (A little, pathetic, defiant lie, Judge
“And you saw nobody while you were Quayle. Twills sent the money and you
in the cellar?" pretended to disapprove because you
“I have an impression”—he wrinkled would not admit you were penniless.
up his forehead—“that somebody And now I can see why you cried out
passed me just as I was going down. in anguish when I rapped on the library
But I cannot be sure.” door as Tom used to rap. You were
“You know what’s happened, don’t thinking you had driven him away,
you, Mary?” I asked. thinking of him ill and broken, and he
She nodded, dumb and miserable. thought you hated him. And you could
“Did you hear the scream?” not bear that, Judge Quayle.)
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 59
“He will soon be back on his feet, see. I got to the top of the cellar stairs
sir,” I said. “I think he intends to re¬ and I couldn’t go any farther. I don’t
main.” know why—I couldn’t! I just stood
The old man nodded and the door there, frightened. It was all dark down
opened to admit Joanna and Jinny. The in the cellar.” She made a vague ges¬
judge glanced round. He had wanted ture. “That’s all there is to it. I just
to see Tom. hurried up the rear stairs again to my
Jinny’s glance asked, “Did you tell room.”
him?” and I nodded. “But why didn’t you tell us this in the
Joanna huddled back against the first place?”
door. Her lips twisted and she nodded at
“I want to talk to you, Joanna,” I said Rossiter.
sternly, trying to imitate Sargent’s “There’s the cause. I thought things
manner.” were coming out all right for us. Does
“Ya. I not do nothing?” it sound awful of me to say that now?
Miss Quayle says you were cleaning Well, I don’t care. That’s what I
silver on the storm-porch late this thought. And I didn’t want to get im¬
afternoon. Is that right?” plicated and it would be hellish to have
“Ya! That right. I no leave.” them think I did it. Do you under¬
“Did you go out in the front hall at stand?”
any time?” “I’ve generally discovered,” Rossiter
“I go once. I think I hear someone said gloomily, “that it’s the innocent
at front door, and I look out. You in people who feel most guilty. That was
hall. So I go back.” a bit idiotic, my dear. You didn’t hear
“Did you see anybody near the door anything or see anything, did you? In
to the cellar stairs ?” the cellar, I mean.”
“Ya! I see somebody stick head “I think I heard something,” Jinny
out.” answered. “A sound like somebody gig¬
My voice sounded unnaturally loud gling. I wasn’t sure but I think that’s
In the hush. what terrified me. Laughing.”
“You saw somebody? Who was it?” She was trembling, perilously close
I asked. to a breaking-point. She said hurried¬
“That one,” said Joanna, and nodded ly, “The whole thing’s like a joke—a
at Jinny. joke without any sense.”
The first sound I can remember after Judge Quayle spoke as though
that startling announcement was Ros- against his will, in two voices, like an
siter making a scornful noise. He old actor:
stepped over from the window, looking “ ‘Have you heard the argument:
distressed. is there no offence in’t?’—‘No, no, they
“I thought I could keep out of it,” do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i'
he said sadly. “But, this is going a bit the world.’ ”
too far. I’ve got to explain things, Rossiter hit the table a blow with his
after all.” He looked at Jinny. “My fist.
dear young idiot, I was congratulating “Look here,” he said, “this has got
myself that you had kept away from to stop. I’m going to stop it before
suspicion. Did you actually make the we’re all potty. I’ll show you what the
silly-ass mistake of going near those real joke was. The real joke was that it
stairs ?” started as a joke.”
Jinny regarded me steadily, her pale Jinny turned on him fiercely. “If
lips pressed together. you start any of your foolery now,”
“I did,” she said in a clear voice. she cried, “I’ll kill you!”
“Jeff, that’s the first thing I’ve omitted “Go out in the kitchen,” Rossiter said
telling yet. And it’s the first thing I to Joanna, “and tell that chap to come
get tripped up on.” in here.”
“Nobody’s accusing you,” I said. He was as close to wrath as his easy¬
“What did you do precisely?” going nature would permit. Joanna
“I didn’t go down in the cellar. I scuttled out of the room.
thought Clarissa had gone after whis¬ “Maybe you’ll say,” he told Jinny
ky. So I went down the back stairs to slowly, “that it takes a fool to expose
 «0 POISON IN JEST
a fool. Righto! But the person who’s there’s what’s been frightening you for
responsible for all this is your brother years.”
Tom.” His broad, homely grin expanded.
“He’s like most devils, sir. He looks
XIII foolish when you pick him up by the
collar or the seat of the pants and drop
tJ UDGE Quayle’s eyes flashed open. him out in the light. But as long as
“I don’t say he committed the mur¬ you kept him inside and never talked
ders,” Rossiter went on, “but he’s re¬ about him he was bad.”
sponsible for the white marble hand.” Judge Quayle seemed to be incapable
Mary let out a squeal. Rossiter of motion. He looked at Tom. Tom’s
clumped over and seized her by the eyes were defiant.
shoulders, towering huge over her. “You mean—” said Judge Quayle.
“I want you to be quiet,” he said. “It’s mostly supposition, of course,”
“Not a peep. I want all of you quiet. interposed Rossiter. “But I think he
Sit down now.” tried to get in that window over there.”
Then Tom appeared. Rossiter jerked his thumb towards the
Pale, dark-haired, sharp-featured, in window through which he himself had
loud and shabby clothes. Something of made his entrance. “Jinny told me
the gangster there, something of John there was moonlight, and that you were
Wilkes Booth. Arrogant and cringing, sleeping on a couch in here. I tried
Franqois Villon in loud and shabby the effect of my own hand at that win¬
clothes. dow, and it gave Mr. Marie and the
"There’s your father,” said Rossiter. county detective rather a turn.
“Go and apologize to him for what you “In the middle of the night, by moon¬
did on the night he chucked you out.” light, I expect the effect would be rather
“I’m sick,” said Tom shrilly. “I can better. Particularly if he’d painted a
talk to my own father without you but¬ glove white and used it, with maybe
ting in.” an old black stocking to conceal the rest
Rossiter took him by the collar. of his arm. If you were lying down,
“There was a snowstorm that night,” you would probably have thought it
he said. “A bad snowstorm. Jinny was crawling across the table.”
told me so. You wouldn’t walk two
Rossiter was rambling on with a
miles to town in the middle of that and
sympathetic smile. He turned to me
you didn’t. I rather think you slept
apologetically.
in the carriage-house.”
Tom let out a cry as Rossiter picked “I say, Mr. Marie, you must have
him up like a ventriloquist’s doll and thought I was off my chump when you
deposited him before Judge Quayle’s saw me prowling about in the carriage-
chair. house. I rather suspected what had
“Look here, sir,” the big Englishman happened and I’d found a bucket that
went on, “I don’t know why you were had white paint in it, and an old black
so afraid of the hand you broke off that stocking and the carriage-robe he must
statue but this son of yours knew you have used to keep himself warm and
were afraid of it. I’m afraid he’s got so—”
rather an unpleasant disposition and Tom started to get up but Rossiter
he’s fond of ghost stories—or he was. forced him down on the floor. Jinny
And while he was out there in the car¬ began to laugh hysterically.
riage-house, weeping over the way “Then,” I said heavily, “there never
you’d handled him, I fancy he got the has been any appearance of the hand
notion of scaring you once before he except that?”
left town.” “What puzzles me,” muttered Ros¬
Judge Quayle was sitting bolt up¬ siter, rumpling up his hair, “is why you,
right. Rossiter released Tom. He sir,” he looked sympathetically at the
plopped to the carpet in a sitting posi¬ judge, “ever were afraid of a white mar¬
tion, ludicrous and foolish. ble hand to begin with. I knew you
“You know, sir,” Rossiter told the were because this cheerful little actor
judge, confidentially. “I’m a wizard, here on the floor made some remark
really. Watch me cast out a devil. I about it on the night you threw him
just dropped him on the floor. And out. Nobody else seemed to know. I
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 61
think it would do you good if you told “Tell you—what?”
us.” “Why you did that. Why Father was
The judge looked as dazed as though frightened.”
bright lights were in his eyes. From sobbing, Tom began to laugh
‘‘My son,” he said, with an effort, hysterically. He looked ill and blue
‘‘did that?” and silly. He was shivering.
“Let me up!” Tom complained. Ros- “But,” he whispered, “that’s the
siter stepped back. “I don’t see why crazy part of it. There isn’t any cause.
you make all this fuss over it! I did it. Father wrecked himself by brooding
But what of it? I’d forgotten all about over something he did when he was a
the thing. I thought you were talking kid.”
about something important.” He looked “If you don’t tell the truth—”
round, appealing to all of us. “For “I am telling the truth! That’s what
God’s sake, don’t look at me like that! he was like. Fear inside him. He could
I haven’t done anything. That was just keep it from most people. But I knew.”
a joke.” “Fear of what?” Jinny demanded.
“It’s all right,” said the judge. “It’s “Of anything. Oh, my God, I see
all right.” you don’t know what I’m talking about!
He stretched out his hand, patted He had to have something to worry
Tom on the back. Then he drew him¬ about always. Everything worried him,
self up. a speech or a decision or even a casual
“I cannot explain,” he said dully. word on the street. He’s as neurotic
“I cannot tell you anything.” He as an old woman.”
clenched his fists. “All of you are star¬ Jinny started after him, her fingers
ing. All of you would be glad if I were suspiciously like claws. Rossiter caught
dead. But you won’t have the satis¬ her.
faction. Get out, all of you.” “He was brought up that way,” Tom
Rossiter seemed suddenly weary. said. “He could have helped himself
“All right, sir,” he said. “We’ll go. if he’d only have talked. But he re¬
But I warn you—” garded merely nervous worries as
“Thank you, young man, I don’t need womanish. It’s what his father taught
your advice,” rasped the judge. But if him.”
the pack of you won’t get out of here—” “I rather think it is the truth, you
know,” the Englishman said. “I know
M ARY stepped forward to plead with the type pretty well. 7 have an old
him but he shook her off. I joined man, too.”
Rossiter in urging the two women to “He broke the hand off that Caligula
make an end of it. Tom had already statue when he was a kid,” Tom went
bolted out of the room. on huskily. “And that’s all there is
In the hallway outside I could see to it. He had a Scotch nurse—”
the knifelike looks in the eyes of Jinny “Yes,” Rossiter said. “Mrs. Quayle
and Mary. Tom turned to regard them told me something about that nurse.
in a way which was pitiful. Look here.” He turned to us, somewhat
“We’ll talk to you” Jinny said, tak¬ fiercely. “I dare say you expected this
ing his arm. to turn into something melodramatic
Tom said: “You haven’t got any like a man he’d killed or a murderer
right to kick me out of here. He said he’d condemned who had sworn to get
I could stay. Let go of me.” him. Well, it’s much more personal and
Mary was blubbering now but Jinny terrible than that. The things that
just smiled.tightly at Tom. really drive a man mad are fears of
“Come into the parlor, little darling,” nothing at all—little fears that grow
she said. “We won’t be disturbed and grow until he sees his fear in the
there.” smallest shadow. It may be money or
Rossiter shepherded us into the par¬ it may be jealousy or it may be just a
lor and lighted the gas-globes there. phantom.”
Tom burst out sobbing. “And in this case?” asked Jinny.
Then Jinny said: “You’re responsi¬ Rossiter stared at the floor.
ble. You made this place a crazy-house. “He’d just lost all his money. His
Now you’re going to tell us all about family was getting out of hand. I
it.” think something popped into his mind
 «2 POISON IN JEST
that had been worrying him all his “I was half-crazy and I’d heard about
life. He’d laughed at it but it never Jeff doing police-work and I was afraid
does any good to laugh at devils. And,” he’d been brought out here to play de¬
Rossiter muttered, “you say he had tective and I wanted to see what he
broken the hand off that statue?” thought of it, without telling him any¬
“You’re no fool,” Tom said. thing more than I had to. The minute
“That nurse,” Jinny said, “died be¬ I saw you that night, Jeff, I thought
fore I was born. But I’ve heard of her. Papa had sent for you and I was afraid
You mean—a bogey. She was the hell- of scandal.”
fire type.” I remembered her frightened face in
“She had him under her thumb until the hall when she had let me in.
he was ready to go away to school,” “Then,” Jinny cried, “these murders
Tom said. “I’ve talked with old Mar¬ have nothing to do with the hand at
lowe, who was a kid with Dad. Mar¬ all?”
lowe said she scared him with every “I’m afraid not.” Rossiter’s face was
horror threat she knew. And I knew rather pale. “I’ve got to tell you. The
because I’ve seen him when I used to motive was money.”
tell ghost stories. A suspicion, a ghastly idea, stirred
“I know where I get my love for that at the back of my brain. Then, from
stuff!” Tom almost screeched. “He’s an immense silence, Jinny spoke.
not a lawyer. He’s an actor. Like me. "Where—is—Matt ?”
It was a ghost story that first put me Mary let out a cry. Rossiter had
on to what was scaring him. It was a taken a heavy step forward, causing
story called ‘The Beast With Five Fin¬ the light-globes to tinkle.
gers.’ I asked him what was wrong. Then I realized that a voice was cry¬
For he’d turned all white and sweaty.” ing out in the house. Springing past
Beyond this white room I was look¬ me, Rossiter flung open the door. We
ing at that portrait of the nurse, hung saw the nurse at the head of the stairs.
in the library. “Will someone please come up here?
“He was only a kid when he did it,” Mrs. Quayle’s gone into the bathroom
Tom said vacantly. “He had a fit of and I can’t rouse her. We may have
temper and smashed that statue’s hand to break open the door.”
with a hatchet.” For a moment Rossiter stood motion¬
"With a hatchetf” less, staring up. With his wild hair and
Tom nodded. great shoulders he looked like a Norse¬
“And she told him it would come man. His voice fell, vacant and hollow,
back some night and get him.” into the hall:
“But listen!” Jinny cried desperate¬ “The murderer’s loose!”
ly. “A thing that occurred when he A crash and a cry. I whirled. Ros¬
was a kid—” siter plunged towards the library as
“He didn’t think of it much until the though he meant to carry the door off
devils began piling up,” Rossiter said. its hinges. I was just behind him.
“But it had always been there—the Only one low burner was aflame with
nurse saw to that. And then he lost pale yellow-white. Judge Quayle, with
his money and began to take morphine blood on his face, stood behind the ta¬
and the old-time hobgoblins started ble. He looked at us once, uncompre-
coming back. Then he had this quarrel hendingly; then his eyes were ob¬
with Tom and that finished him.” scured in a gush of blood, he half
twitched, and pointed into the shadows
D OSSITER moved across the chill just before he fell. He was pointing at
bright room, his head down. Calagula’s statue.
“I wish I’d never pried into this,” he With a steady step Rossiter walked
muttered. over towards it. My feet crunched in
Jinny said in a queer voice: “Then— pieces of the broken brandy-bottle
that night Tom played the fool was the which had been used as a weapon.
only night a hand ever—” Rossiter shot his hand into the dark
“Yes. The rest was all his damned pocket of shadow.
imagination and the morphine.” “You had better come out, Mrs.
“But Mary saw—” Quayle,” he said. “Your work is fin¬
“No, I didn’t,” Mary said huskily. ished.”
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 43
EPILOGUE ‘And not only that, why act so incon¬
sistently as to give two people hyoscin
EIGHT, sounded the clock. The and one person arsenic? If poisoners
echoes fell away, settling softly into the have one distinguishing characteristic
quiet Vienna streets. Through my mind it’s this—they always use the same
twisted the evil images which were poison. So the business looked fishy
contained in the pages which lay under from the start.
Rossiter’s hand. “But let’s look at another angle of
“. . . for instance,” said Rossiter, the thing. Mrs. Quayle was dangerous.
drawing deeply on his cigarette, “when I rather suspect she was a necrophile.
you spoke of Judge Quayle and the pos¬ You might consult Krafft-Ebing. I’d
sibility that he might have poisoned sooner drink castor oil than read the
himself to divert suspicion, you should chap’s stuff myself but sometimes he’s
have realized that hyoscin’s effects are extraordinarily revealing. By necro¬
phile I mean a being who’s fascinated
almost instantaneous.
by death and the dead.
“Nobody would swallow hyoscin and “Necrophiles love to be in sick-rooms,
trust to luck that somebody would dis¬ to prepare the dead for burial and de¬
cover it and pull him through. Nobody light in the tasks normal people shud¬
would poison that syphon and run the der at. A number of famous women
risk or killing an innocent outsider. poisoners have been in this category,
The murderer would have refrained be¬ like the cheerful lady they called The
cause he would need somebody to give Angel of Allegheny. It’s a gland or
the alarm and save him from his self- nervous disease.
inflicted dose. “In Mrs. Quayle’s case, it may have
“But,” he continued, “it is probable been accentuated by her neuritis—
that a woman might give herself ar¬ melancholia, depression and hatred of
senic to divert suspicion. It is fairly her husband and by having been expos¬
slow, its symptoms are unmistakable ed to Jane McGregor. Her thoughts al¬
and, since Twills was constantly in at¬ ways kept running on death. Even her
tendance on her anyway, she would dreams dealt with it. Her first thought,
run no real risk. But she took no when her husband kicked Tom out of
chances. She told Twills she was being the house, was to poison herself. She
poisoned.” disguised this tendency when she spoke
He took a sip of his kiimmel. “Let’s to you by pretending she was in fear
look at the question of arsenic and hy¬ for her own life—but she wasn’t.
oscin from the poisoner’s viewpoint! “The motive was the clearest thing of
When you’ve got six grains of a swift, all. Who had a poisonous hatred for
almost certain poison, hard to spot and Judge Quayle? Everybody knew she
as deadly as anything in the drug line, had never forgiven him for what he did
why do you want to mess about with to Tom. She could think of nothing hut
an uncertain thing like arsenic ? Tom. Without this tinge of madness
"The murderer must have got all this she mightn’t have gone so far as mur¬
knowledge from overhearing the con¬ der. But it grew and grew until she
versation between Judge Quayle and conceived the idea of poisoning her hus¬
Twills. Well, Twills said that arsenic band. Good Lord, man! It’s so dashed
was ‘the most painful but least danger¬ plain!”
ous’ of all toxics. So what was the He picked up the copy of Heine’s
murderer’s idea in using it if the mur¬ poems with those strange words on the
derer really intended to kill the one to flyleaf. He went on:
whom the arsenic was given ? "How else can you explain these
“Furthermore, after you’ve pinched words: 'Could personality have made
enough hyoscin to kill everybody in the so deep an impression?’ Well, it couldn’t
house, why run the risk of being seen have been anybody else but Tom, could
pinching a tin of arsenic—hard to hide it? Twills knew, of course. I fancy
and not half so effective as what you’ve he suspected she had pinched the hyos¬
got—from the pantry, where there was cin out of his surgery. That was why
somebody nearly all day?” I could not he knew instantly, when he saw the
see Rossiter’s face but I could sense Judge fall, what the poison was.
the wrinkle between his brows. “Twills failed to suspect that she
64 POISON IN JEST
might already have planted hyoscin stroying what he loved most. But it
where he. Twills, could take it. But he was a lead. She was the only one who
thought that, due to the arsenic, she disliked him enough to bum his manu¬
couldn’t act for a day or so. He still script. Maybe she burned both of them.
wasn’t sure—witness the first question Twills was wondering about it.
he wrote. But she had put hyoscin into “You tried to work out some fantas¬
the bromide-bottle at the same time she tic theory of the judge directing a plot
poisoned the syphon.” against Twills and against Twills’
“When was that?” money. I say, excuse me!—but it was
“While the rest of them were having ridiculous, you know. Twills wasn’t
dinner. She had a clear field for over thinking about any attempt on his own
half an hour. I suspect Twills must life when he wrote ‘Was it hope of
have dropped a pretty strong hint to money, or growing canker?’ Was, was,
her to return the poison voluntarily— was—that’s the word he used, referring
and that must have been why he was to the poisoning of Judge Quayle, re¬
waiting up.” ferring to what had happened in the
“But the motive!” I interposed. “You past. And who on earth would poison
said it was money.” Judge Quayle for money except the one
Rossiter slumped back in his chair. who didn’t know he was bankrupt?
“Yes,” he said. “That was the dead “You’ve only got to interpret those
give-away. Where all of you went questions written in the copy of Heine
astray was in jumping to the conclusion and you have the whole truth. She
it was Twills’ money and Twills’ will. was determined to kill the judge.”
Twills didn’t figure in Mrs. Quayle’s “Clarissa’s murder,” I said, "was
plans at all except that he had to be committed while she—apparently—was
eliminated because he was suspicious. in bed with the nurse in the room.”
It wasn’t his fortune. It was Judge He grinned wryly. “Damn the luck.
Quayle’s fortune, to be given to the dis¬ If I had been with you and Sargent and
inherited son Tom.” Reed when you interviewed the old
“But Judge Quayle,” I said, “didn’t lady I believe I could have prevented
have any fortune.” Clarissa’s death. Mrs. Quayle didn’t
“Righto! And Mrs. Quayle was the know she hadn’t killed the judge until
only one in the house who didn’t know you told her! She immediately shifted
that.” to her favourite topic of death.
“The first thing which jumps into
I AMPS were coming out on the street. her head is—Tom. She has failed Tom.
In the caf6 behind us we heard So she begins mumbling about Tom,
fiddles being tuned. Rossiter began to growing so incoherent that you had to
roll another of those unholy cigarettes. leave her. Previously, she had made an
“I’m sorry,” he said after a pause. effort to throw suspicion on one of the
“I tried to tell you. Clarissa made spe¬ girls by that incredible story about
cial point of mentioning that fact. Of somebody sneaking into her room and
all the people there only Mrs. Quayle not replying to her question.”
hadn’t been told that the judge was on “Why ‘incredible?’ ”
his uppers. That was why Twills wrote, “It ties up with why she really
‘Was it hope of money, or growing wasn’t afraid of an attempt on her life
canker?’ When they got this pleading despite what she said. I think she was
letter from Tom asking for money, she vaguely trying to throw suspicion on
must have gone a bit mad. She de¬ Mary. She disliked Mary because Mary
stroyed the judge’s will because she was had always been so bitter against Tom.
afraid it might contain a clause against Besides, Mary had the most oppor¬
Tom. She would inherit and she could tunity.”
bring Tom back.” “There were times,” I said, “when I
“And she did destroy the will ?” felt more than a little suspicious of
“Probably we shall never know. But Mary myself.”
she searched for it and naively looked He nodded. “Well, Mrs. Quayle says
in the drawer of his writing-table. That she is terribly afraid she may be
was where she found his manuscript. poisoned. They bring her dinner up.
And she hated him so much she burned Mary comes in and urges her to eat it.
it. Perhaps she thought she was de- Do you think that, if she had really
 JOHN DICKSON CARR 65
been afraid of poison, she would have her when I found her dead body behind
touched that meal? Do you think that, that statue. The exertion, probably,
if she really thought she had heard was too much for her heart. It was a
somebody in the room bent on mischief, blessing, anyhow. And the judge didn’t
she wouldn’t have alarmed the whole die from being cracked over the skull
household? with that bottle.”
“No, no. She poisoned her own milk- He hesitated.
toast. Then you came in the next day “Look here. I’ve been trying to keep
and brought her universe down by tell¬ all this from Jinny’s thoughts as much
ing her she hadn’t poisoned the judge as I can. We shall be going to the hotel
after all. She immediately began fig¬ to see her soon and I know you won’t
uring out ways and means of getting mention—eh? After all, this is our
the judge. She’d hidden the poison in wedding-trip. She wouldn’t like to be
the cellar. Now she had to go get it reminded of what happened.”
again. “Of course not,” I said. “And I
“The nurse told you that she was go¬ haven’t offered my congratulations.” I
ing to give Mrs. Quayle a sleeping-pill, looked at his reasonably neat clothes.
then lie down to sleep herself. Her He no longer had quite so apparent a
nap would be pretty sound. It isn’t look of being blown through the world
difficult to palm a sleeping-pill and only by a tipsy wind. “You’re looking do¬
pretend to take it. I’m a good amateur mesticated already. Are you still in the
magician myself,” Rossiter said com¬ detective business?”
placently, “and I know. He shifted uncomfortably.
“She was desperate, almost mad. She “Oh, dash it. After seeing all that
had to do this poisoning all over again. unpleasant business at the Quayles’, my
It’s the hideous determination of the own old man—well!” He threw out his
woman which is so appalling. When hands. “I knew I should probably give
the nurse was napping she slid out in when I took that job in the Police
quietly and went down the back stairs. Department. My old man learned
Clarissa caught her—probably with the where I was, naturally, and he got in
arsenic and the hyoscin both in her touch with me. He’s a good sort and
hands. Clarissa was ready to scream in I only got him humped when I tried to
alarm—and the old lady would not be mess things up at Scotland Yard.
balked.” "You see, the governor is High Com¬
All the lights in the cafe were on. missioner of the dashed place. That
There was laughter, the swishing of was why they did me a favor in New
feet and flickers of white from women’s York. We had a row, you see. My
dresses among the trees. My com¬ well-meant efforts to help him para¬
panion stared vacantly at his glass. lyzed English justice, he said. But aft¬
“And,” he said in a low voice, “I er all, he wants somebody to keep his
dare say you, as a novelist, would ap¬ damned old baronetcy going and I’m
preciate what happened. The son for it.”
whom she was doing these things was He gestured plaintively.
looking on at the cellar window—if he “Let’s go along to the hotel,” he said,
had known it. “and pick up Jinny and make a night of
“She was stark mad now, of course. it. She’s fine and blooming. She’d en¬
She was opening the throttle wide and joy a bit of a tear.”
tearing straight for destruction. She “You have a certain Mr. Joseph Sar¬
got back to her room somehow. I gent believing you’re the greatest de¬
rather fancy there was blood on her tective in the history of the world,” I
too and she hid it under the bedclothes. said. “He didn’t believe it when you
When she made her attempt on the had us drawing pictures. Wait a min¬
judge she just went into the bath be¬ ute! Why the pictures?”
tween the communicating rooms, locked Rossiter grinned. “I’m a student of
one door and went out the other.” scribblography,” he replied with relish.
“I couldn’t tell you why I wanted to do
I SHUDDERED. Rossiter looked at that or it would have spoiled things.
me with a somber expression. You remember, I asked you to draw a
“I’m sorry, old boy. You asked for house, a man, a woman, a dog? Well,
the gory details. There was blood on when you drew a woman you made a
66 POISON IN JEST
rather funny-looking face with spirally it was Mrs. Quayle and what he wrote
blobs for hair.” had reference to how frightened the
“Well?” judge might be because of the mor¬
‘‘So did Twills,” said Rossiter. phine.”
He pushed across the yellow book. “The last thing,” I said, “and what
‘‘Look at it! There’s a great deal of seemed to me the horrible part . .
truth in the apparently meaningless “Well?”
sketches a person will scribble. Twills “It was the laughter. The nurse hear¬
was thinking of Mrs. Quayle. Look at ing laughter in Twills’ room. And the
that sour face. Look at the ringlets. way Judge Quayle suddenly came out
But even if I could demonstrate that a with those lines about ‘poison in jest.’
woman was what he had drawn it would But the nurse swore Mrs. Quayle was
be enough to confirm my explanation of safely in bed when the laughter was
what he wrote. heard.”
“She was,” he replied.
“We must all go out and get drunk,
what? The place at home, where my Rossiter rose to his great height,
old man has us living with him, is a towering over the hedge.
cheerful little birdcage with fifty-four “Twills loved this city,” he said sud¬
denly. “He wanted to come back here
rooms and I’m not exactly suited for
the gentle life, you know. Yes, I think and realize his dreams. . . . Did it never
we’d better get tight.” seem strange to you,” he broke off,
staring into the warm, lamplit dusk,
I think he was staring out somewhat
“that Twills didn’t save himself? He
wistfully at the wide lands he had
felt the poison getting him. There was
tramped over in a dusty green topcoat still a little time for an attempt to com¬
and a battered hat.
bat its effects. But he didn’t. He was
“There are just two more things,” just tired. He just didn’t care. It was
I said, “that I’d like to ask.” Twills they heard laughing. He was
“Oh, carry on! I’ll answer ’em, if I laughing at his own destiny when he lay
there and waited for death.”
“Well, then—that question in Twills’ We walked out into the shadowy
book about the morphine.” street. The orchestra-leader lifted his
“Here’s the explanation, I think. baton. The surge of a waltz rolled out
Twills really believed somebody was above the clatter of glasses and the low
continuing to scare the judge all those hum:
years with an imitation of a white mar¬ "To thee, beautiful lady, I raise my
ble hand. Twills likely suspected that eyes .. ”

J^eggie to the J^edcue!

ROSALIND BRICE was lonely, depressed, emotionally upset. And Reggie Fortune
arrived just in time to save her from an attack on her life! Among her other
fears, Rosalind had an unreasonable dread of fog—and Reggie determined to find out
why! His efforts in this direction led to a miasma of mystery which challenged all
his detecting powers!
Reggie Fortune plays psychologist and detective at the same time in THE LIFE
SENTENCE, by H. C. BAILEY, one of next issue’s featured novels. It’s a masterpiece
of suspense that will hold you breathless from start to finish!
PETERMAN GENIUS
The strange

true story

of the King

of Bank

Robbers and

how he

finally had

his checks

cashedl

by

MILLS
HOPKINS

IT WAS a beautiful June morning, and

Mounted Patrolman Johnstone of the
shire Hills which began in Westchester,
were a common sight here.
New York Police fought to keep him¬ This rock, however, was different.
self from breaking out in a song. But You don’t see drunks lolling around
he did unbend enough to hum a tune, most rocks.
to lean over and pat his horse’s neck.
After all, he reasoned, there was no one Johnstone Finds Corpse
around this wild section of New York- Patrolman Johnstone dismounted,
Wertchester County border to witness ready to collar the drunk and toss him
his slightly undignified behavior, which into the clink to sleep it off.
robably would be excusable for anyone This was no drunken man. It was a
ut a member of New York’s Finest. battered, decomposing body. The man
Cantering along thus, Patrolman had been in early middle age. His cloth¬
Johnstone’s eye was caught by a big ing was of good quality, and in the fash¬
rock, which in itself was nothing un¬ ion of the day. Beside the body lay a
usual. Rocks, out-croppings of the Berk¬ pearl-handled revolver.
48 PETERMAN GENIUS
Patrolman Johnstone got in touch depredations. Suffice it to say that they
with his superiors. The alarm went out. would not have shared the admiration
Criminals from the Battery to Yonkers of Herman Steid for Mr. Leslie.
were rounded up, herded to the morgue
to view the body. Such A Cultured Robberl
Among the shady characters drawn
in by the police dragnet was one Her¬ The impeccably dressed Mr. Leslie
man Steid, stooge for a notorious fence. had all the earmarks of the well brought
In the morgue he slunk up to the marble up gentleman, which he ostensibly was.
slab on which reposed the remains. His clothes were of the best. His lan¬
He gave it a quick glance, drew guage and maners were beyond re¬
back, as if the sight of death was too proach. He was a connoisseur of the
much for him. The cop on duty noticed arts and an expert on wines and foods.
Steid’s actions and his suspicions were Yes, to the social observer, Mr. Les¬
immediately aroused. lie’s proclivity for getting into bank
“Know him? Come on now, Steid. vaults in the dead of night was his
Out with it!” only discernible habit which would have
“Yeah, I know him,” Steid whispered. raised eyebrows in the social set where
“Dat’s Western George. He’s—I mean he spent his non-business hours. Later
wuz—de fastest peterman wot ever he acquired another unsocial habit,
lived.” Steid’s voice held all the envy, which, as it turned out, was fatal.
tinged with reverence, that a lesser According to the underworld, where
practitioner of a craft holds for a he was so well-known, this last habit
genius. was directly responsible for his violent
death. But more of that later.
"King Of The Bank Robbers" Mr. Leslie, of the beautiful maners,
came to New York, then the crime
“Western” George, originally George capital of the world, shortly after the
Leonidas Leslie, and also known as Civil War. He flitted about, embarras¬
George Howard and the “King of the sing police of dozens of cities until
Bank Robbers,” had come to an igno¬ 1884, when he met his rather rude, for
minious end. His soul must have writhed him, demise.
with embarrassment as it viewed that
rotting body—the good suit mussed and Leslie Was College Graduate
dirty, the fine shirt stained with blood.
George Leonidas Leslie never would Son of a well-to-do businessman and
have wanted his society friends to see a graduate of Cincinnati University,
him in any such condition. The swells, where he made an outstanding record
after all, were accustomed to the sight in architecture, Leslie found the temp¬
of him dressed in the height of fashion, tations of the latter-day Sodom irresis¬
enjoying the opera, dining in the fan¬ tible. He got himself into various kinds
cier New York restaurants of the of trouble, stemming principally from
1880’s. a too-avid interest in wine, women and
They heartily concurred with George song, and then found himself on the
Leonidas Leslie’s philosophy whenever criminal merry-go-round.
he gave a beggar a coin. Perhaps a psychiatrist might have
“After all, we are of the upper classes, discovered the reasons for his entry in¬
he would say. “We should take pity on to crime. It might have been that he
the poor and ignorant of the masses, was desperate for funds with which to
even though we don’t necessarily as¬ carry on his £ay life, or it might have
sociate with them.” been that crime offered more excite¬
But how the swells would have shud¬ ment than did the gay life.
dered had they suspected that Leslie At any rate, one of Leslie’s first jobs
was also known in crime circles as the was the robbery of a jewelry store in
Number One Boy in the business of Philadelphia, a job which he pulled with
relieving the nation’s banks of their one Gilbert Yost. A comparative am¬
more negotiable assets! And how they ateur in those days, Leslie and his pal
would have howled for his blood had were caught and tossed into the pokey.
they known that on many occasions it Leslie went free on bail, which he had
was the banks they themselves owned arranged with one of the more brother¬
or controlled which suffered from his ly politicians of the City of Brotherly
 MILLS HOPKINS 69
Love. He promptly jumped bail and details he would draw his own plans—-
left Yost to take a two-year rap. from memory. His drawings would in¬
clude all the salient points, such as
He Bribes Politicians the location of the vault, doors, win¬
He learned something from this ex¬ dows and even the location of the furni¬
perience, and he described it this way: ture scattered around the premises,
“Never get caught. Make the job which might be in the way and likely
fool proof. Fix everything, including to interfere with a getaway, if one were
the politicians.” necessary.
Following his own advice he learned Leslie Rehearses Thefts
to handle all the details himself, from
the planning of the actual job to the Once he had the procedure worked
fixing of police and politicos and the out Leslie went ahead with rehearsals,
procurement of fences to dispose of the the strenuousness of which would make
swag. a whip-cracking football Legree blush
That procedure seemed to work, for with envious shame. Working from his
Leslie never served a sentence, even plans he would arrange a room so that
though he had committed enough its interior was the same as that of the
crimes to merit every punishment in bank. Then, armed with a light cane,
the penal code. which he used as a pointer or as a prod
The actual planning of a bank rob¬ to get his muggs into action, he would
bery was Leslie’s real forte. It was a run through session after session, lec¬
challenge to his brilliant but warped turing, explaining and bullying. Need¬
mind and it gave him a chance in a less to say, after a year or two of regu¬
way to practise his real profession of lar practise sessions of this type, the
architecture. Often he boasted to his Leslie gang was, letter perfect.
fellow criminals that his early train¬ For a long time Leslie had been work¬
ing with blueprints and drawings and ing on the idea of cracking the Manhat¬
mathematics was what helped to make tan Savings Institute of New York. Ad¬
him great. vance intelligence informed him that
“Education pays,” he would tell his the bank was loaded to the ceiling with
mates as they sat over their drinks cash and negotiable bonds, and he left
after talking over a robbery. no stone unturned in preparing for the
He never stopped studying, mindful job. This one, he determined, was to
perhaps of the Philadelphia experience. pay off.
He made himself familiar with practi¬ When he had definitely decided to
cally every make of bank vault in exist¬ pull the job, he made his way to a
ence and he owned models of many. Brooklyn saloon and there met a gang
With constant study, he got so profi¬ of well-known thugs, including such
cient that he could crack many just by worthies as Jim Brady, Abe Coakley,
tinkering with the combinations. John Dobbs, “Shang” Draper, “Banjo
Pete” Emerson, Jimmy Hope, “Red”
He Strives For Perfection Leary and “Worcester Sam” Perris,
about as delightful a coterie of yeggs
And with what passion for perfection, as ever drilled a steel door or slugged
what attention to detail this suave a watchman.
heister went about his business! If in¬
finite capacity for taking pains is One Yegg Is Surly
genius, as is claimed, then Leslie was
certainly a genius. After some talk over the whisky,
Leslie’s architectural training was Leslie broached his proposition.
put to advantage in the early stages of “This is a big job. There’ll be
planning a job, when he would get hold
of the plans of the building in which it:
the victim bank was located. But if he All of the heisters except Shang
could not snare the plans, he would Draper listened with interest.
open a deposit account in the bank, But Draper, a surly individual, was
which would give him a good excuse for more than hesitant.
regular visits. “We’re doin’ all right without you,
After a few such visits, during which Leslie,” he growled. Besides, that’s a
his eagle eye would take in all the tough nut to crack.”
70 PETERMAN GENIUS
“Not afraid, are you, Draper?” Les¬ But he was nervous. The usually
lie teased. steady hand shook as he worked the
“Why you—nobody can say that I’m tumblers. He decided to give lip the
yella!” flared Draper. attempt.
“Okay, Draper. Prove it,” Leslie “We’ll get in again, so don’t worry,”
snapped, grinning to himself in the he told his accomplices as they trooped
knowledge that there wasn’t a thug in out. Leslie noted that Shang Draper
the world who could outwit him. sneered as he spoke. But Leslie said
Draper again hesitated. But the nothing.
other members of the gang were sold The big attack was made on the Sun¬
by Leslie’s assurance, and they got day morning of October 27, 1887.
Draper to give in. This time Leslie had a stooge bind
and gag the janitor, Werckle, who lived
Master Crook Tells Plans in the basement with his family. Leslie
“Good!” Leslie explained, hunching and Perris went to work on the vault,
over the table. “This is the way I’ve the others were placed as lookouts and
got this caper figured. This is no or¬ helpers.
dinary job. I’ve cased it thoroughly.
Something Goes Wrong
We can’t use soup. The charge’d blow
the plate glass windows to smithereens Spreading his $3,500 kit of tools on
and we’d wake up the neighborhood. the floor, Leslie made ready to roll the
Now, the janitor, a lug named Werckle, tumblers.
lives in the basement. But I got that The other crooks heard him mutter
fixed. Pat Shevlin’s already working an angry oath.
in the bank. They tell me he makes a They looked at him and saw that
right cute janitor. So we’ll get in all beads of sweat were standing out on
right.” his face. He seemed at a loss for the
The other thugs nodded admiringly. next move, but he got control of himself
“You think of everything, don’t you, and explained that there was a new
Leslie,” Perris said. plate on the door. Actually, what hap¬
“Well, I didn’t get to be the best can- pened was that the teller who opened
opener in the business by not thinking the vault that day after Leslie’s first
of everything,” Leslie replied, modestly. raid, had seen that something was
Draper spat into a comer. wrong, and the original plate had been
Leslie then proceeded to go into the replaced.
plans, giving every member of the gang Leslie now felt sure the job was jinx¬
an assignment. Then he took them to ed. But he wasn’t ready to give up. A
his dark warehouse, and ran them man of lesser ego might have left well
through their paces. enough along, but not Leslie. It was a
All through his rehearsals, it was challenge to his pride.
Draper who didn’t get into the spirit of “We’ll have to use soup, boys,” he
the thing, and Leslie, hard put to con¬ told his confederates.
trol his impatience, gently as he could, In three hours Leslie had the vault
explained to the sullen Draper his job. open.
“Maybe I ought to get rid of this What transpired during that three
monkey,” Leslie mused. Then he dis¬ hours was so fantastic that it is worthy
missed such thoughts. After all, he of the pen of the best fairy-tale writer
told himself, I’m the king of the bank in the world.
heisters. Scum like Draper should be
beneath my notice. Fake Watchman Fools Policeman
Coakley, dressed to impersonate the
The Job Is Attempted janitor, made a pretense of cleaning
Finally Leslie pronounced his plan the bank floor. A pavement pounding
and his cohorts perfect, and went to cop on the beat, one Van Orden, passed,
work. and saw Coakley. But Coakley, a cool
As per schedule, Shelvin let the rob¬ customer, nonchalantly waved to the cop
bers in, and Leslie went directly to the as if he were an old college pal, and the
vault, where he proceeded to go to work cop waved back, not even slightly sus¬
behind a screen which he placed before picious !
the vault door. When the job was done, they all
 MILLS HOPKINS 71
trooped out the back door, a bribed As the years went on, Mr. Leslie con¬
cop named Nugent who had appeared on tinued to ride high. He developed an
the scene carrying one of the sacks of aversion to strenuous “field” work, and
loot! set himself up as a consultant in bank
This was just another detail that robbery, with petermen from coast to
Mr. Leslie had remembered. coast seeking him out for advice and
But with all this elaborate planning, suggestions. This he would furnish for
all this blood and sweat, the Manhat¬ a big fee or a percentage of the haul.
tan Savings caper turned out to be the With practically no attention from
most spectacular flop in Leslie’s career. the law to keep him on his toes, pleas¬
For like so many other endeavors, ure-loving Mr. Leslie began to pay less
demonstrated on the battlefields and in and less attentiqn to business, and more
business, the advance reports were not and more to the girls. If he had occu¬
uite comprehensive enough. Only pied himself in dalliance with the
300,000 of the big slew of bonds they beauties of the day’s cafe society, he
grabbed were of the negotiable variety. might have lived to a ripe old age.
There was only $11,000 in cash, small But that was where bad move Num¬
potatoes for a bank of the stature of ber Two came in, and wrote finis to
the Manhattan Savings Institution. his career.
Leslie Got $12,000,000 He became romantically interested in
not one, but two, gun molls. One hap¬
Though this raid was a flop, it stands pened to be “Babe” Irving, sister of a
out like a sore thumb to break the notorious gunman of the period. Well,
monotony of Leslie’s successes. His if he had stopped with Babe, it still
total take during his long and dishonor¬ might have been all right. But Leslie
able career was in the neighborhood of became involved with another dame,
$12,000,000, a lot of money even for who unfortunately, held the affections
a bandit who was estimated reliably to of Shang Draper, his associate in the
have been involed in 80 per cent of all Manhattan Savings robbery.
the bank raids pulled in the United
States in his time.
Leslie ranged all over the nation, Safe-Cracker's End
playing no favorites. He opened the
big Ocean National Bank in New York Because of the heat, Draper had been
for $786,879, and the little Dexter, forced to lam, and when he returned he
Maine, Savings Bank for a paltry began to brood. The fires smoldering
$10,000, and many in between. He ex¬ in him really flared up when he found
cused the small take of the Maine job Leslie fluttering around with his girl
by explaining: friend.
“Oh, I was on vacation anyway. That There is to this day no legal evidence
job helped to pay my expenses.” that it was Leslie’s attention to Dra¬
The Manhattan job differed from per’s girl that resulted in his death. But
others of Leslie’s jobs in that the police underworld gossip, which is usually
were on it. It took them two years, but straight, has it that Leslie had last
finally some arrests were made. been seen alive in a Brooklyn hideout
Leslie’s stooges, Hope and Bill Kelly, where Draper and other yeggs gathered,
were nabbed and went up the river, but and that the job was done there. Fur¬
Coakley and Emerson were acquitted ther, the underworld says, Leslie’s
and as for Leslie, the master mind him¬ body was then hauled to the Westches¬
self—they didn’t even have enough evi¬ ter rock and dumped, later to be found
dence to try him! on that Sunday morning by Patrolman
Johnstone of New York’s Finest.
Chief Yegg Goes Free The underworld would say it was
It was not known whether it was only right for Leslie to be bumped off
Leslie’s perfect track-covering or shod¬ this way. For no high-hatted dude can
dy police work, but there he was, free, steal another guy’s sweetie-pal—anc’
and able to go on cracking the nation’s live to tell the tale. Even if he is the
depositories. monarch of his chosen profession.

Novels by H. C. BAILEY, REX STOUT and STUART PALMER Next Issue!

 A MYSTERY NOVEL

o DELL walked hesitantly toward The office was big and leather-fitted,
the office. His right hand was plunged with a huge desk backed up against the
into the coat pocket of his brown suit. plate-glass window. Outside the win¬
It clutched a crumpled telegram. dow were the stucco buildings of Azure.
The barrel of the .32 under his left In the distance, the Salton Sea mirror¬
arm still felt warm. ed the sunlight. “I was wondering what
He knocked. A man’s bass voice had happened to you,” the man behind
rumbled, “Come in.” the desk rumbled.
72
 A MYSTERY NOVEL
The QUEEN
BOB WAOE & BILL MILLER

Barselou was massive. Careful jaw. But his mouth was, pleasant and
o DELL walked hesitantly toward The office was big and leather-fitted, grooming played down the height and his colorless eyes picked up the blue
the office. His right hand was plunged with a huge desk backed up against the weight and boldness of feature. His of his suit.
into the coat pocket of his brown suit. plate-glass window. Outside the win¬
pale blue sports suit was tailored by a These eyes transfixed Odell. “What’s
It clutched a crumpled telegram. dow were the stucco buildings of Azure.
creative artist. The jet hair was kept happened?”
The barrel of the .32 under his left In the distance, the Salton Sea mirror¬
arm still felt warm. ed the sunlight. “I was wondering what carefully combed back. Barselou was Odell slid the telegram across the
He knocked. A man’s bass voice had happened to you,” the man behind shaved twice a day and powdered to re¬ desk to Barselou. The big man read
rumbled, “Come in.” the desk rumbled. duce the dark cloud about his heavy it silently.
72
 The QUEEN
BOB WADE & BILL MILLER

Barselou was massive. Careful jaw. But his mouth was, pleasant and
grooming played down the height and his colorless eyes picked up the blue
weight and boldness of feature. His of his suit.
pale blue sports suit was tailored by a These eyes transfixed Odell. "What’s
creative artist. The jet hair was kept happened ?”
carefully combed back. Barselou was Odell slid the telegram across the
shaved twice a day and powdered to re¬ desk to Barselou. The big man read
duce the dark cloud about his heavy it silently.
74 POP GOES HE QUEEN
MEET ME IN LAS DUNAS HOTEL PRONTO “I’ll bring him in—in one piece.”
PER ARRANGEMENT WON POT ON QUEEN Odell leaned against a corner of the
HIGH STRAIGHT desk. He was padded enough not to feel
It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. it. Around town he was called “Little
John Jones, General Delivery, San B,” a smaller edition of Barselou. Ac¬
Diego. tually, he bore little resemblance to his
There was no emotion on the stony employer. Where Barselou was impres¬
face. “Let’s have it.” sive, Odell was as unimposing as an
“It’s Anglin. It’s the doublecross. erasure.
After he reported to you this morning, “How about the Joneses?” he asked.
he went to the telegraph office. That’s Barselou sat down. “A couple from
the wire he sent. I used my deputy San Diego checking into Las Dunas
sheriff’s badge to get a copy.” this evening shouldn’t be hard to spot.”
Barselou wadded the paper. “Then
he’s found the Queen—no matter what “Welcome to Azure, sir. And now if
he said.” He asked softly, “Where you ou’ll please put your John Henry right
holding him?” ere. . . .”
Odell shifted uncomfortably. “Well— The thin desk man spun the registra¬
I lost him.” tion card around. The guest wrote,
Barselou stood up quickly. “You let “Mr. and Mrs. John Henry.” After a
him get away?” pause for effect, he added “Conover.”
“He knew I was on his tail. I tried to John Henry was no taller than aver¬
stop him. I shot at him but I—” age, with shoulders that were inclined
Barselou flattened both palms on the to stoop and a body that was inclined
desk top. “Odell, if you’d killed Anglin to fat. Wavy brown hair and pleasant.
I’ve have broken you in two. I’m not But his chin was strong and moved for¬
going to lose the Queen after all I’ve ward indomitably oftener than John
spent tracking her down. You did good Henry realized.
getting that telegram. But don’t start He was dressed all in brown—sport
thinking for yourself.” coat, slacks, loafer shoes, and open-
neck shirt.
BARSELOU scowled out at the twi¬
light view of Azure. It spread out
Gayner, the assistant manager of the
Las Dunas, smiled professionally.
before him, sloping away till the gray¬ “Your bags, Mr. Conover?”
ish-brown desert blended into the deep “They’re in my car.”
blue of the imprisoned sea. Now the Gayner struck a chime hanging on
heavy shadows of the Santa Rosa Moun¬ the stucco wall behind him and a boy
tains were darkening the white, buff in a maroon field marshal uniform em¬
and lemon of 'Azure’s pseudo-Spanish erged from a junior jungle of potted
architecture. palms.
Azure. The Winter Paradise. “Vernon, Mr. Conover’s baggage.”
He had visualized before its birth the Gayner flipped him the car keys.
town that now spread out like a gaudy “It’s in the first row of your parking
carpet from the Santa Rosa foothills. lot. Green sedan.”
In the center of the town was his bus¬ John Henry looked around for St.
iness office, the Azure Development Clair. She was backed against one of
Company. Its assets included Azure’s the ornate pillars, nodding her burn¬
biggest movie theater, the only depart¬ ished red head, but wearing a fixed
ment store and a multitude of restaur¬ smile as she listened to the woman who
ants, bars and other tourist businesses. held her in conversational captivity.
Odell stirred uneasily. “What’s the John Henry sauntered over.
next step?” “Darling!” St. Clair said. “You took
Barselou wheeled slowly, his anger so long.”
gone. “Find Anglin. Alive. Obviously, “Sorry, Sin.” He smiled at the other
Anglin has found the Queen and he’s woman. She was past thirty and imper¬
trying to sell her address to somebody atively blonde. Her blue eyes hinted
elfee.” shrewdness.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jones, huh?” “I’d like to present my husband—
“Find Anglin, before he gets to the John Henry,” Sin said. “This is Mrs.—
Joneses, whoever they are.” oh, yes, Loomis.”
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER
“Miss Loomis,” the blonde corrected.
“Thelma Loomis.”
“How do you do, Miss Loomis.”
“I thought I recognized your wife,
Mr. Conover. I’m with Fan Fare.”
Sin explained, “That’s a movie maga¬
zine, darling. Miss Loomis writes for
it.”
“Well,” said Conover. “That’s nice.”
“Gossip stuff,” Thelma Loomis said
in a machine-gun voice. “Features on
the stars—marriages, divorces, love and
the atom bomb.” Miss Loomis, it seem¬
ed, had made a mistake. “A natural
one,” she maintained, “considering how
attractive your wife—did you call her
Sin?—is.”
“That’s a nickname,” Conover ex¬
plained for the thousandth time. “Her
name is St. Clair.” The British pro¬
nunciation made it Sinclair and usage
made it Sin. Sin never minded. The
nickname fitted her—even in the simple
beige traveling suit mussed by the San
Diego-Azure ride.

THE THICK hair, to her shoulders,

was nearly the color of a cherry
coke. Sin’s face was piquant, but not
so pretty as it was surprising. Her skin
was a clear and delicate bronze that
contrasted disquietingly with slanting
green eyes. Her happy mouth kept Sin
from being completely sirenish but still
added up to a picture of lighthearted
deviltry.
“I have to be on the qui vive for any
of the Hollywood clan,” Thelma Loomis
was saying brassily. “So I’m a lobby-
haunter.”
“All we did was win a quiz contest,
Miss Loomis.” Sin began telling all
about it. She had been one of the con¬
testants on the Be Bry-Ter Quiz Show
in Hollywood. “The jackpot question
was to identify a quotation—and I did.”
“So here we are with a free vacation,”
chuckled John Henry.
“What was the quotation?” Thelma
Loomis scribbled some shorthand.
“I can’t remember,” Sin said plain¬
tively.
John Henry came to his wife’s rescue.
“She can’t remember now. Honest, Miss
Loomis. That’s the way Sin’s memory
works.”
Baggage clattered on the red-tiled
floor. Vernon panted gloomily, “I’ll
show you to your cottage now.” Crouched on the
Sin was ready but the writer was
/6 POP GOES HE QUEEN
after her. “What does your husband Venetian window blinds onto his dirty
mean about your memory, Mrs. Con¬ leather jacket. Anglin was a squat
over?” man with skin as weather-beaten as
“Oh, it isn’t much.” The redhead was his clothes. He braced himself against
getting annoyed. “A party trick mostly. the white stucco and shook his foggy
I remember nearly everything I read, head. His calloused hand left a smear
that’s all, until I’ve once repeated it.” of blood.
John Henry started his wife toward He squeezed the door handle and step¬
the glass doors. He put an end to the ped into the small living room. Light
conversation with an over-the-shoulder, came from the open door to the bed¬
“Glad to have met you, Miss Loomis.” room. Beyond that somewhere, a man
Thelma Loomis put her little note¬ was singing.
book into the pocket of her yellow lin¬ A woman spoke from the bedroom,
en dress. A glance across the lobby and her voice startled.
her eyes sharpened. “Who’s that?”
A man in an immaculate white suit She was as jumpy as he was. But
was sitting militantly in an armchair. she ought to be better trained. He
He watched Sin sway down the steps told her in a low voice, “Shut up, for
with interested gray eyes. His hawk the luwa Mike.”
face was deeply tanned and in vivid Anglin could see her now, standing
disparity to his silver hair. A white before the dressing table. The brush
sun helmet was perched on the arm of she’d been punishing her red hair with
his chair. dropped from her hand to the thick
And behind his shiny mahogany
counter, Gayner gazed after the Con¬ He hadn’t expected to know her. The
overs until they had wound out of big boy used different girls for differ¬
sight along the flagged path. Only then ent operations. This one was a looker,
did he bring his eyes back to the regis¬ but why didn’t she catch on?
tration card before him. “Get out!” she whispered. “Get out
Mr. and Mrs. John Henry Conover. or I’ll scream.”
San Diego. "Quit it,” he said, leaning wearily
He picked up the telephone, spoke to against the door jamb. “Where is he?
the operator. I got it for him.”
“Give me Mr. Barselou, please.” “If you don’t get out, I’ll call the
police.”
CRICKETS chirruped like traitors
every place but where Anglin step-
What was she talking about, anyway?
“You’re from ’Dago, ain’t you?”
across the grass in the rear of the She nodded.
Dunas. Weirdly muted, came the “Then for the luwa Mike get him."
sound of the orchestera in the Oasis Her glance went to the phone beside
Room. the bed. Anglin put his hand in the
The wound in his shoulder had open¬ pocket of his leather jacket, so when
ed again. The blood trickled down over she looked back at him, he held the
his hand. Odell had been smarter and little black automatic in his homy
faster than he looked. palm.
It was a good thing the cottages “I don’t know what you got in mind,
were white stucco. They strung out sister. But I ain’t got much time.”
for him to count. He couldn’t read the Behind the closed bathroom door,
numbers because the moon hadn’t shown the man began to sing again. Anglin
up yet. gestured with the gun.
“Nothing better go haywire,” he “Get him.”
growled. “What are you going to do?”
He wanted to get rid of the whole He felt dizzy as the room swam
thing and clear out. The tenth cottage. around. He brushed the woman aside
Just four more to go and he could and rapped the muzzle against the door
deliver the goods and vanish. panel.
Ah, here it was. He stepped con¬ “Okay, okay,” said the singer inside.
fidently up to the blue wooden door. Anglin threw the bathroom door open
From inside came the murmur of voices and stood staring. The man inside was
and a little light seeped through the a young fellow, not too big but stocky,
 BOB WADE AMD BILL MILLER 77
and his body was faintly pink from “And they haven’t?”
a vigorous fowling. He wore blue rayon Miss Loomis snorted. “The only in¬
shorts. teresting people here are that cute
“What the heck!” he said. couple in Cottage fifteen—and, of
“Oh, Johnny be careful,” the girl course, Sagmon Robottom—the Prince
quavered. Charming of archaeology. Robottom’s
Something was screwy here. The the All-American Boy grown up.”
advance arrangements had been specific “He looks like a dashing fellow,”
about their cottage number. The only said Mr. Trim. “But what’s so unusual
unknown had been the when and Anglin about the couple in Cottage fifteen?”
had wired that this morning. Was this “The wife has a peculiar memory.
more of Barselou’s bunch? Remembers everything she’s read until
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and began she says it, then it’s gone for good. And
to back toward the living room door. that won them a quiz contest. They—”
“Reckon I made a mistake.” Mr. Trim sprang to his feet.
The stocky young man moved for¬ “Holy smoke! Are they here al¬
ward. “What’s this all about?” ready?”
“Never mind, son. I—” Anglin open¬ She watched him navigate swiftly to¬
ed the door and stumbled off the porch ward an exit.
onto the soundless grass.

MR.“That
TRIM came back to his booth.
was my company long-dis¬
“It beats me,” John Henry said.
“Why’d he bust in here?”
“Oh,” Sin said, “I guess he just made
tance,” he apologized. “Business. I’d a mistake, like he said.” Now that all
never be able to afford a place like this the inside lights were blazing away
except on business.” and the windows and doors locked, Sin
“Oh, is that so?” Thelma Loomis wasn’t afraid any more. “Why don’t
commented. we forget it?”
She really should ask the little bore Sin had on her nylons, when the rap
what his business was, but she’d been came on the cottage door. John Henry
asking questions all day and was tired was still pants-less. Clutching the dres¬
of it. She was watching Sagmon Robot- sing gown tight around her, Sin headed
tom. for the door. Vernon, the freckled bell¬
The man in the white suit sat morose¬ hop, stood outside grasping an envelope
ly on one of the bar stools of the Palm in both hands. He thrust it toward Sin,
Room and nursed his second Martini. “I’m supposed to deliver this invita¬
Robottom was a tall man and his ath¬ tion.”
letic figure was erect. Even his silver John Henry came up, hastily buck¬
hair stood up like cropped and frosty ling his belt.
grass. “Invitation?”
Was he waiting to meet somebody? The freckled youth was pained.
Thelma Loomis wondered. She drooped “From the hotel. They’re throwing a
a little as she remembered her own big costume brawl tomorrow night.”
companion. Then she saw Mr. Trim’s “Oh, honey!” Sin’s eyes sparkled. “I
watery brown eyes welling curiosity love costume parties.”
and waiting. “This one you’re supposed to come as
“Oh, I’m sorry—what were you say¬ what you’d most like to be,” Vernon
ing, Mr. Trim?” said. “Now isn’t that something?”
“I was saying that you must have “It’ll be fun,” Sin said stoutly.
quite a fascinating job, Miss Loomis. “Maybe,” Vernon doubted.
Lots of folks probably envy you the After he’d gone away, Sin repeated,
chance to mingle with movie people.” "It’ll be fun.” Her husband laughed.
She sized him up again. He certain¬
ly wasn’t much. Small, nearly bald,
a pug nose like a doorknob on a tan
prune, and discolored, broken teeth. -fi® ARSELOU speaking.”
“I really should have stayed in Palm “Odell.”
Springs this week end,” she said. “I “Where’d you see Anglin last?”
just had a hunch that someone import¬ “He was trying to crack the hotel
ant might pop up here.” from Andreas Street.”
 78 POP GOES THE QUEEN
“Then keep that Las Dunas sewed porch, peered at the cottage wall, and
up.” turned.
“We are. Incidentally, our Mr. and “Say! That looks like blood!”
Mrs. Jones have checked in.” John Henry sighed, “It certainly
“Gayner told me that. There was does,” and closed the blue door.
only one couple from San Diego today. They went to the Ship of the Desert
Now listen, Odell—tonight may mean for dinner. It catered to a clientele
whether or not we ever see the Queen. that could pay four dollars for steak
Anglin’s got to be found quick. If he without expecting stock in the restaur¬
contacts anybody at all—” ant.
“I’ll call you back.” The Conovers ate at a candle-lit table
“And get this through your thick near where a small waterfall rippled
skull. This is one time when it’s smart over neon-illuminated rocks. The am¬
to keep up with the Joneses. .. ber light of a moon threw faint shadows
John Henry had his white shirt but¬ against the walls, which were painted
toned when a knock sounded again. in blues and browns to simulate the
Sin said firmly, “I’m not going this sweep of the desert. Palm trees car¬
time. I intend to get my clothes on.” ried out the illusion. The waiters wore
“All right, all right,” Conover mut¬ burnooses, but the management had
tered and went to the front door. He underwritten the lushness with an ex¬
opened it to say gruffly, “Yeah?” cellent cuisine.
It was a wizened little man in a black Sin finished her dinner. “Now if I
serge suit and his late fifties. He had can just have some more coffee—”
a big smile and his hand was out¬ John Henry reconnoitered after their
stretched. waiter.
“Mr. Conover, my name is Trim. On “Odd,” he said softly. “I thought for
behalf of the Bry-Ter Tooth-Paste a minute I saw our friend with the
Company may I welcome you and Mrs. gun. That was the first time anybody
Conover to Azure.” ever drew a gun on me,” he said.
“Well, thanks,” said John Henry un¬
certainly. “Won’t you come in?” THE DUTIES of assistant personnel
manager of an aircraft parts fac¬
Mr. Trim stepped in and stood blink¬
ing in the living room. John Henry tory didn’t satisfy a deep-rooted urge
could see no suspicious bulge under for adventure which lurked behind his
Trim’s let armpit. conservative manner. He had never
“What was it, honey?” Sin demanded been able to make Sin understand this.
from the bedroom. “Sin,” he said, “I don’t think you
It broke the silence. Mr. Trim clear¬ have any love of adventure. A myste¬
ed his throat. rious stranger with a gun, a bloody
handprint on our front porch—and I’ve
“Mrs. Conover, I represent the Bry-
a feeling we’re being watched.” Her
Ter Tooth-Paste Company.”
green eyes didn’t change expression but
“Oh, how thoughtful,” Sin threw out he flushed, anyway. “All right, all
to him, but she didn’t appear. right—I still think something’s going
“I’ve been commissioned by the on behind our backs. I wouldn’t be
Company to sort of look after you—see surprised if somehow we haven’t acci¬
if I can do anything to make sure you dentally upset some criminal conspir¬
enjoy your stay here.” acy. We do know it involves a transfer
“Are you staying here at the hotel, of something. Didn’t the man say he
too, Mr. Trim?” was John Henry’s ques¬ had ‘it’ for me? And he looked like a
tion. The black-suited man nodded. miner.”
“Then we’ll know where to get in touch “ ‘It’ could be anything.”
with you—if we have to.” “I’d like to meet that fellow again.
“That’s right! Mr. Trim massaged Next time, I’ll find out just what’s
the door handle wistfully. “I’m always going on.”
available—day or night.” His laugh Their Arab-gowned waiter returned
was forced. “Well, good night, Mr. and with coffee. He poured skillfully and
—uh—Mrs. Conover. Welcome to deposited a woven salver containing the
Azure.” bill on the table.
He stepped out onto the brightly lit “I won’t be surprised next time.”
John Henry stared balefully at his cof¬ face someone had written:
fee. “Just let anybody make a suspi¬ “Your deal. .....”
cious move.” The headwaiter, colorful in his
Sin sipped some steaming liquid. Foreign Legion uniform, waited for the
“Good coffee,” she murmured. Then Conovers to reach the balcony. Sin held
she jumped and screamed, “Johnny!” tight to John Henry’s arm. He could
John Henry had knocked over his feel her trembling and the greenish
coffee cup. All around, customers saw eyes were slightly scared.
a young man with a white face staring The headwaiter knocked on the oak-
at the bill on the woven salver. paneled door at the end of the balcony.
Sin reddened at being part of the A man’s voice grated, “Come in,” and
floor show. She looked at the spreading the Foreign Legionnaire bowed the
brown stain. “Honey, you’ve ruined Conovers into the office ahead of him.
their tablecloth.” It was all leather except for the
“There” he whispered. “Look at spacious plateglass window. A burly
that!” man who stood there wheeled as the
His forefinger stabbed toward the headwaiter closed the door.
salver. Sin looked at the bill, then she “This is the owner, Mr. Barselou,”
stared, awestruck. he said. “Mr. and Mrs. Conover.” He
It wasn’t a bill, at all. It was just bowed and left.
an ordinary playing card. The Queen “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Conover,” Barse¬
of Diamonds. And across the queen’s lou rumbled in a slow-freight voice,
 80 POP GOES THE QUEEN
“suppose you sit down and tell me what foundly—and pick up your check, of
seems to be the trouble.” course.”
Sin sank into the leathery embrace John Henry’s stubborn ■ chin jutted
of a chair, but John Henry advanced out. Barselou’s bland assumptiveness
belligerently. annoyed him. “That’s very nice,” he
“This,” he said, and flipped the paste¬ said, “but if it’s all the same to you I
board queen face up on the desk. think we’ll take a look around before
Barselou picked up the card. After we go.”
a moment of study, he smiled amiably,
and murmured, “ ‘Insipid as the queen
upon a card.’ ”
O DELL lounged restlessly against
the stucco wall of the restaurant,
Sin replied automatically, “Aylmer’s up the alley. Wadded up under his arm
Field. Alfred, Lord Tennyson.” was an Arab burnoose.
Barselou quirked an astonished eye¬ He wondered if Barselou had got any¬
brow but John Henry didn’t intend to thing out of the young couple. The
explain about his wife’s trick memory queen right in their laps ought to start
at this moment. some fireworks.
He said, “That’s what goes on in A faint scuff of shoes against the
your restaurant. That’s why I insisted pavement twirled him alertly around.
on seeing you.” Somebody was coming down the alley
Barselou chuckled. “I’m further in from the other direction. The man
the dark than you are, Mr. Jones.” stumbled as if he were having trouble
“Conover,” Conover corrected. with the dark. Odell slid his hand to
“Sorry. I’ve been thinking all even¬ the cold butt of his .32.
ing about somebody named Jones. Tell The footsteps stopped. A match
me about the Queen. Like a mystery rasped and the blackness was momen¬
story, isn’t it?” tarily shattered as the stumbling man
“Okay,” said John Henry. “It was held the flame in front of him, peering.
like this.” A silent laugh rippled Odell’s fat.
When he was done, Barselou rubbed Talk about luck! Here was Anglin
a spadelike hand over his heavy jaw walking right into the net. He put the
before he spoke. “Incredible.” gun muzzle on the dark blob and walked
Sin said, “We’re getting tired of that toward the other man.
sort of thing, Mr. Barselou.” “Anglin, don’t make any funny
Pale eyes sparkled. “Why? has moves,” he said, “and you’ll be all right
something else happened?” for a while. The chief says no obitu¬
John Henry silenced his wife with a aries.”
glance. “We’re tired from our trip, “Odell!”
that’s all.” Anglin groped wildly for the door in
“Yes, quite a drive from San Diego,” the alley next to his hand. Odell drop¬
agreed the restaurant owner, fiddling ped the bundled burnoose and jumped
with the card again. “The queen symbol forward, pistol menacing.
intrigues me—yet you say it or this Before Anglin could find the handle,
‘your deal’ inscription has no signifi¬ the door abruptly swung open, letting
cance for you.” a flood of bluish-white light into the
“What are you going to do about alley. Odell could see a figure outlined
the waiter responsible?” John Henry in the doorway. And the amazed face
wanted to know. of John Henry Conover.
Barselou said, “The simple fact, Mr. John Henry thought the alley had
Conover, is that we have no such waiter exploded. He barely had time to recog¬
as you have described.” nize the weather-beaten prowler in the
“Don’t tell me a stranger could walk doorway when the man was driven
in here, serve us our meal—and nobody violently against him, staggering him.
would know the difference! How about Then he realized the noise had been a
the headwaiter? How about the cook?” gunshot.
Barselou remained undisturbed, al¬ Sin screamed, “Johnny, Johnny, are
most mocking. you all right?”
“Perhaps it was a joke, Mr. Conover. “Okay, honey.”
Perhaps intended for somebody else. Automatically, he held up the leather-
About all I can do is apologize pro¬ jacketed body by its armpits. He
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 81
couldn’t see anything in the gloom, but “It might have made things easier for
he could hear the sound of footsteps, everybody.”
running.
Barselou brushed past him. John
Henry felt a shudder go through the
D EAD all right,” Lieutenant Lay
said and got up from beside the
figure in his arms. Sin was staring at body.
the man. The second in command of the Azure
“He’s hurt!” Police Department stood with his bowed
Wetness had dyed the back of the legs apart and scowled at the wall. He
leather jacket. The man twisted his was a lanky man in his middle thirties
head and squinted his foggy eyes. Re¬ with a horse face and arms too long for
cognition showed there. his body.
“You already got it,” the man chok¬ The scowl swung on John Henry.
ed. “Don’t—” The head lolled help¬ “Mr. Barselou seems to have the idea
lessly. you knew him.” Conover shook his
“Dead?” Barselou scanned the body head and kept silent. Lay rasped, “He’s
narrowly. not hard to identify. Name’s Anglin.”
“Think so—or close to it.” John Henry asked. “Who was he?”
Together, the two men eased the flac¬ “Oh, he hung around town a lot. Did
cid form to the linoleum under the fluor¬ lots of jobs. Prospected some.” He
escent kitchen lights. Barselou’s big glanced at the sand that had spilled on
hand rested lightly on the man’s sun¬ the floor from Anglin’s clothes. “Was
burned wrist. Then he got up, grunting. a guide once in a while. Used to dea!
The great kitchen was packed with faro over in Las Vegas.”
white-shrouded cooks, helpers, and “Lieutenant,” Barselou interposed,
robed waiters. The headwaiter was as “maybe that has something to do with
white as his Foreign Legion trousers. the murder. A man like that is bound
Barselou lashed at him, “Phone to make enemies.”
Lieutenant Lay, at the police station. “Maybe. Some bozo he’s doublecross-
Get your people out on the floor. Your ed—or cheated at cards.”
place is with the customers.” “What’s Mr. Anglin been doing re¬
John Henry had his comforting arm cently?” John Henry asked.
around Sin. Barselou paced between Lay muttered sarcastically, “I can’t
table and exit, his face angry. He pulled keep track of everybody in a glorified
up by the Conovers and his voice was tourist camp like this. Anglin might
barely controlled thunder. have been prospecting. He hasn’t been
“What do you know about this man ?” in town often lately.”
“Nothing,” John Henry answered He knelt by the dead man again,
him. “I never saw him before in my rummaging through the pockets. The
life.” He canceled Sin’s astonished black automatic came out first, to be
objections bysqueezing her wrist. placed on the linoleum. A dirty hand¬
“He knew you.” kerchief, a small compass and a note¬
“He fell into my arms, that’s all. book with all the pages blank, joined
He didn’t know I was going to open the gun on the floor. After a through
the door.” search, the pile also included a few
Barselou eyes blazed. He said softly, coins, a half-empty pack of cigarettes,
“All right—you don’t know him.” matches and a wallet. The wallet con¬
“Too bad he didn’t get a chance to tained a driver’s license made out to
talk,” John Henry said. Homer Anglin, and nineteen dollars.
Sin protested, “But honey, he did Lay got up and Barselou tapped the
say something to you!” and Conover’s officer’s shoulder, drawing him to one
warning squeeze came too late. side. In a moment Lieutenant Lay came
Barselou hunched his wide shoulders ambling back.
forward. “Conover, why didn’t you tell me that
“So he said something to you!” Anglin said something to you before
“Well,” said John Henry, “he tried he died?”
to say something, but he couldn’t quite “He didn’t.”
make it. Too bad, too—it might have “Barselou says—”
cleared the whole thing up.” John Henry’s temper flared. “Barse¬
“A pity,” agreed Barselou grimly. lou’s got a lot of ideas. Why doesn’t he
 82 POP GOES THE QUEEN
have one about that waiter of his that He punched the key into the lock.
started us on the whole thing?” Then he withdrew it. He looked down
Lay said, “Oh, we all have ideas.” at the lock.
And he let the Conovers go. “I could swear I locked it.”
He tried the handle. The door swung
Ill open into the blackness of the cottage.
He patted around for the light switch.
The CONOVERS turned into the The front room came into brilliant
palm-guarded walk that wound up to being.
the hotel’s front entrance. A rainbow Sin’s scream was short and piercing.
of floodlights, concealed in the shrub¬ John Henry swore automatically. Sin
bery, bathed the area in carnival hues. was wrapped around his arm, half
John Henry pursed his mouth. “If behind him, her eyelashes fluttering in
we only had some idea what that fright.
Barselou is up to—” A girl was sitting in the big chair
“It’s nothing that concerns us, that faced the door. Her round eyes
Johnny,” Sin said. “We don’t know were ponds of friendly curiosity. Under
he’s up to anything, I mean, it wasn’t them, softly prominent cheek-bones
his fault that poor fellow got shot in slanted into a tiptilted nose. She was
his alley.” young, with a lily-smooth face and black
“Look at it this way, Sin. We get hair. Trim legs were doubled up under
that queen card in his restaurant deliv¬ her.
ered to us by a waiter in one of Barse- “What the hell,” said John Henry,
lou’s costumes. We go up to his office, “are you doing here?”
and you remark that we’re tired from “Yes,” said Sin definitely.
our trip and Barselou says it’s a long The girl had a small sultry mouth
drive from San Diego.” that said, “You’re trying to scare me.
“Oh,” said Sin softly. Somebody told you I liked to be scared.”
“Right. How did he know we were The Conovers looked at each other.
from San Diego?” John Henry said, “Well, that doesn't
“Johnny, he’s been checking up on answer my question, Miss—”
us!” The girl kept smiling, half-veiling
“Sure, and why?” bright eyes. Her voice came cares¬
“He must think we’re somebody else.” singly.
John Henry nodded emphatically. “I’m so glad you came to call. I need
“Barselou thinks we’re somebody else. building up.”
Anglin thought we were somebody else. Sin said flatly, “We live here.”
And Anglin gets murdered at Barse- The girl answered, “I live here,” and
lou’s back door.” shook her sleek black head slowly.
They went up the front steps of the “Now, look here,” John Henry began.
Las Dunas and pushed through the “Tell her, Johnny.” Sin nudged him.
glass doors. The lobby was bright and “Tell her that we’re registered here.”
quiet and deserted. “That’s right. We’re registered here,
“You have the key?” Sin asked. Miss—”
John Henry felt in his trousers The girl’s face saddened. “I’m sorry
pocket. “Uh-huh.” this is all a mistake. I was registered
“I sort of expected your pocket had for this cottage less than an hour ago.
been picked. Johnny, who are we?” Mr. Gayner was quite definite about the
He grinned. “The Conovers, return¬ number.”
ing from a festive evening with the Sin whispered, “Johnny, don’t just
police.” stand there!”
Outside their path curved to the cot¬
tages. Most of the cottages were still
unlighted.
J OHN Henry took recourse in reason.
“Yes, I guess a mistake has been
“I’m glad you left our porch light on,” made, all right. They’ve put you into
Sin said suddenly. the wrong cottage. We’ve been living
John Henry could have sworn that here ever since early this evening. I’ll
he turned the porch light off, but there show you!”
it was, clearly illuminating the black He strode into the bedroom. Their
iron 15 on the white stucco. clothes were in the closet. That should
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 83
convince the girl that she was in the evening, I naturally moved her into Cot¬
wrong place. John Henry threw open tage fourteen. Then we discovered a
the closet door. mistake had been made in her telegram.
Sin said, “Oh, honey!” Instead, she desired Cottage fifteen.”
The closet was stuffed with clothes, “Of all the silly things!” Sin ex¬
but they were the wrong clothes— ploded. “The cabins are all the same,
slinky dresses, evening gowns, dressing aren’t they?”
gowns. Nothing was Sin’s, much less Gayner shrugged. “Exactly the same,
her husband’s. Mrs. Conover. I emphasized that to
The girl pulled out a hanger with a Miss Jordan, but nothing would do but
black robe which, except for collar and that she had Cottage fifteen, so—”
cuffs of jaguar fur, was completely “You moved our things out,” John
transparent. She held it up and looked Henry said.
at John Henry. “Just next door,” Gayner soothed. “I
“I found this in Mexico City. Would regret the embarrassment this whole
you say it was too extreme?” business has caused. I had expected to
John Henry backed up and sat down be on the desk when you returned. I
abruptly on the bed. “I can’t under¬ could have prevented this unfortunate
stand it,” he said heavily. “This is our episode. I did my best in your absence.
cottage. I know it is.” I secured permission to move your bag¬
“We were registered for this one. We gage.”
dressed here. Johnny took a bath in John Henry swallowed. “Permission!
that bathroom.” Sin pointed a drama¬ Who gave you permission?”
tic forefinger. “Your representative here. The
The girl smiled demurely. “You tooth-paste fellow. Mr. Trim. . . .”
must have mistaken the number this John Henry stopped pacing around
evening in the dark.” in Cottage fourteen and plopped down
Sin folded her arms. John Henry on the bed beside Sin.
recognized the battle flags going up. “I know how you feel, honey.” He
“I,” she announced, “am going to stay stroked her hair ge1 cly.
right here. This is our cottage.” “What’s so special about Cottage
John Henry interposed, “Suppose I fifteen, anyway?” she demanded.
get Mr. Gayner. He ought to be able “Beats me.”
to straighten the whole thing out in a There were two light taps on the liv¬
jiffy.” ing-room door.
“Wait, Johnny!” Sin scampered after “There’s our boy now,” John Henry
him. “I don’t want to be left alone said.
here!”
The girl came in from the bedroom,
and colled gracefully into her chair
H E was right. Mr. Trim stood
blinking on the porch. His small
again. mouth and bald head reminded John
“Will you shut off the lights as you Henry of an underfed Humpty Dumpty.
go? I like to sit alone in the dark.” “Come in, Mr. Trim,” Conover greet¬
“Sure,” said John Henry hollowly. ed him. “My wife wanted to see you.”
He pulled the blue door shut and hur¬ “I hope you’ll forgive this intrusion,”
ried Sin toward the friendly brightness Trim rattled in his high precise voice.
of the hotel. . . . “We called you,” clarified Sin. She
“I wouldn’t have had it happen for folded her arms.
the world.” Mr. Gayner was prostrated. “I know,” the little fellow confessed
“Okay, I understand that,” John Hen¬ miserably, “you haven’t been having a
ry said. He stood behind his wife’s good time. That’s why the Company
chair. Sin sat there fidgeting angrily. sent me here. And I’ve failed. I’m
The assistant manager leaned back in awfully sorry the misunderstanding
his swivel chair. arose.”
“Faye Jordan is,” he mourned, “a “We are, too,” said Sin, unswerving.
child of whim. Whim and wealth are “Mr. Gayner was so wrought up I
an uncomfortable combination. Cottage couldn’t refuse. I didn’t realize a differ¬
fourteen has been held open for a week, ent cottage would actually make any
pending her arrival—she paid the rental difference to you. It must have been
all that time. When she arrived this quite a shock to find your clothes gone.”
 84 POP GOES THE 9UEEN
“It was,” John Henry said grimly. after. Besides, I’d feel like a dope tell¬
“But not so much of a shock as it ing all this to that police lieutenant
was to find all our things had been now.”
searched.” “Well,” said Trim disappointedly,
“Searched! You mean somebody tam¬ “if you just want to forget it.”
pered with your personal belongings?”
“Uh-huh. And whoever searched our
stuff did it in a hurry. Everything’s a
W HEN he finally left, Sin and John
Henry undressed.
“You know, Sin,” John Henry mused
John Henry said moodily, “It’s not as as he buttoned his pajama top absently,
if we were surprised. Nothing surprises “I was thinking about what you said
us any more.” earlier tonight. Who are we? We
The tooth-paste representative said don’t know who Barselou thinks we are.
vigorously, “Something has to be done. Sin, he’s fighting somebody he’s never
After all, I’m responsible.” seen—or he’d never have mistaken us
“Johnny,” Sin said, “maybe you for them.”
should tell Mr. Trim the whole story.” Sin said, “But poor Anglin knew we
John Henry regarded Trim’s anxious were wrong—after he saw you. What
expression narrowly. Then he attacked was he trying to deliver? He tries to
the story, trying to remember every¬ drop off his ‘it’ here and no luck. Then
thing. The wounded prowler, the robed he tries to give it to Barselou—and gets
waiter, the playing card queen, Barse- stopped.”
lou’s hostile attitude. Only when he got Sin sighed, “Poor guy—trying so
around to the shooting in the alley and hard to peddle his something.” She
Homer Anglin’s dying message did paused with one hand on the bathroom
Trim commence puckering his fore¬ doorknob. “Suppose Anglin came up
head. the canyon counting the cottages in¬
“Say, I don’t know what to say,” he stead of reading the numbers; That’s
confessed. what I’ve been thinking. You know
“It’d make more ense if Anglin had how some buildings and hotels don’t
given me something,” John Henry said. have any thirteenth floor? ’Cause peo¬
“But he just said, ‘You already got it’ ple are superstitious? So they just
and died. I didn’t get anything.” skip that number. I’ll bet there’s no
“But somebody thinks Anglin gave Cottage thirteen.”
you something, Mr. Conover,” Trim said “Sure, that’s it! Clever girl! That
owlishly. “That is quite probably why means if Anglin came along counting
Mr. Gayner was so willing to accommo¬ cottages, and got our old Cottage
date Miss Jordan. Moving your bag¬ fifteen, he was one number over.”
gage would give him an excellent op¬ “See, Johnny? Anglin came into the
portunity to search it.” fourteenth cottage. But he wanted Cot¬
“Why should Mr. Gayner want to go tage fourteen.”
through our things?” asked Sin. John Henry sat up excitedly. “Hey,
“Because he was told to, Mrs. Con¬ maybe Anglin was going to meet the
over. Mr. Gayner’s boss—the boss of girl here in fourteen. He comes to
most things in Azure—is Mr. Barselou. fifteen, instead. As soon as she finds it
Mr. Barselou owns this hotel.” out—wait a minute! How’d she find
John Henry grunted, “Well, how do it out?”
you like that!” “She could have seen the blood next
“Just more -weight to your belief that to the door where he put his hand. So
Mr. Barselou is hip-deep in this busi¬ insists on having the cottage he vis¬
ness, whatever it is,” Trim said. “And ited.”
there’s no doubt that Mr. Barselou be- “She figures that Anglin left what¬
lives you are working against his in¬ ever he was to deliver in fifteen. So
terests. Arc you?” she wants a chance to look for it. Just
“For heaven’s sake, no!” said Sin. in case, our stuff is searched, too. You
“Then,” said Mr. Trim, “I suggest we know, Sin, I think it would be a smart
go to the police.” thing if I tried to get chummy with the
“No!” John Henry flushed. “Maybe Jordan girl tomorrow.”
now that Barselou’s searched our stuff, The morning sun sent golden rays,
he’s convinced we haven’t got what he’s caressing the pale buildings, driving
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 85
darkness from the streets, invading the pins, and pried out a long narrow strip
palm-shaded grounds of the hotel on of tightly rolled paper.
the hill. “Quick, open it up! What is it?”
In Cottage fourteen, Sin entered the Now the excitement had Sin too, and
living room, her hair brushed into a she crowded close against her husband’s
smooth page-boy that glinted like a shoulder.
ruby. The paper was oiled and the tight
“Johnny, what are you doing?” rolling made it hard to handle, but the
John Henry stopped peeking between Conovers perused the column of writing
slats of the Venetian blinds and spun on the paper strip, then looked at each
hastily, his round face guilty. “Just— other for an answer.
looking out,” was the best he could “What do you make of that?” John
think of. Henry wanted to know.
“What at?” Sin went to the window Sin rejoined that it resembled mostly
herself. “Oh!” an incredibly long safe combination.
The occupant of Cottage fifteen was She took the paper from him and read
disappearing down the flagstone path it off carefully.
toward the hotel. There was a great “R-l. L-3. R-2. L-l. R-2. L-3. R-l.
deal of pale skin which her white bath¬ L-2. R-l. L-l. R-2. L-3. R-2. L-5. R-l.
ing suit didn’t cover. L-3. R-2. L-l. R-l.”
“Just checking up,” John Henry said “Must be a code,” John Henry mut¬
lamely. “Ever since you figured out that tered. “R and L usually stand for right
cottage number business—” and left, but maybe this is a cipher.”
“Now see here, John Henry . . . What “I don’t know,” Sin admitted. She
have you got in your pocket, anyway?” added, “I don’t want to know.”
Her hand plunged into the breast pocket
of his dark-blue sport coat. “Oh,” she TV
said, “your pencil,” and dropped the
Eversharp back into his pocket. tJ OHN Henry placed the oiled paper
John Henry put a hand into his in the Eversharp. He began to amble
pocket and pulled the pencil into view around the room, speculatively apprais¬
again. His forehead had corrugated ing the walls and furniture.
into puzzled lines. “Sin, what’s the most likely place to
“Funny,” he said. “This isn’t my find a pencil?”
pencil. Never saw it before in my life.” “In the desk, I guess.”
Sin laughed. “You probably picked John Henry nodded. He pulled open
it up when we registered.” a drawer of the small redwood writing
He paid no attention. The pencil was desk, deposited the Eversharp in the
an ordinary Eversharp, colored black pencil trough, and closed the drawer.
and sea-green, with a gold point and a “Psychology,” he explained. “The
removable eraser. best place to hide anything is right un¬
“That’s what Anglin meant. ‘You al¬ der people’s noses.”
ready got it.’ Sin, Anglin stuck this Sin decided the sooner the pencil was
in my pocket when he fell against me stolen and gone, the better. “Hey,
last night.” where you going, Johnny?”
His wife sobered. “Let’s throw it “Back in a few minutes,” John Hen¬
away, Johnny.” ry said from the doorway. “After all
“No. We should have guessed a pen¬ that’s happened, I want to grill this
cil before. Remember? In his pockets, Jordan woman.”
Anglin had something to write on but “Johnny, you come back here!”
nothing to write with.” Strange excite¬ John Henry Conover closed the blue
ment gripped him. “Let’s just look at door in time to block the pillow hurled
it a little before we throw it away.” by his wife . . .
He turned the Eversharp over and Thelma Loomis and Mr. Trim sat at
over, scrutinized its scratched surface. an umbrella-shaded table on the yellow
John Henry took off the removable tile bank of the swimming pool. The
eraser and peered into the cylinder. silver-thatched Sagmon Robottom,
There seemed to be something wrapped across the pool, idly kicked at blue wa¬
tightly around the lead cartridge. He ter while he talked gaily with a young
probed for it with one of Sin’s bobby girl in a white bathing suit. The four
 86 POP GOES THE QUEEN
of them were alone at the pool. Most the pool, apparently disgruntled over
of the hotel guests \vere Sunday morn¬ something. And at a table on the other
ing sleepers. side, Mr. Trim and the fan magazine
Said Mr. Trim, “What are you watch¬ writer had developed sudden interest in
ing him for?” the Sunday comic section.
Thelma Loomis moved her gaze hasti¬ “Now, Miss Jordan—” John Henry
ly. “Curious,” she said. “I wanted to edged away.
see how the old goat operated. He’s “Call me Faye.”
got quite a reputation around L. A. “Now, Miss Faye—”
Plus a wife.” “Faye! With an ‘e’ like in ‘easy.’ ”
Trim looked disapprovingly at the John Henry forgot what it was. The
archaeologist. girl had slid along the yellow tile so
“That’s no relic he’s found there,” that her bare knee nudged his leg. He
chuckled Miss Loomis. couldn’t retreat any farther without
The girl’s swim suit clung to her falling into the pool.
rounded, enticing body. An inviting
face crowned by braids of black hair tlE started to give the whole thing
was turned up attentively to Robottom. up when he saw the card tucked
Even across the wide pool came the into the waistband of her swim suit.
constant flash of white teeth in the Too large for a calling card, it evidently
bronze aquiline face. had some engraved letters on the side
Then the silver-haired man got up that was against her flesh. What was
lithely and fumbled in the pocket of she doing, carrying the card around in
his discarded beach robe. her bathing suit?
“He’s giving her something!” ex¬ “Let’s talk,” he suggested. “Let’s
claimed Trim. “Say, is it—a key?” talk about you.”
Robottom handed the girl a little “All right. Do you know why I think
card that looked like a claim check, said you’re cute?”
something, and they both laughed. “No.”
Mr. Trim clucked. “Maybe that “It’s because you give a virile im¬
ticket was a chance on something.” pression.”
“You can say that again,” the blonde The fingers with which John Henry
writer murmured. intended to steal the card were turning
The archaeologist stood on the edge hot and cold alternately.
of the pool and stretched. Then he Faye put her crimson lower lip out.
launched his long body into a perfect “Oh, you didn’t want to see me at all!
dive, cleaving the blue water. If you don’t build me up, I’ll go talk
“Say!” whispered Trim. “Another to that cute boy in the pool.”
married man! Young Conover!” She turned her head toward the
Miss Loomis brought her sharp gaze white-haired swimmer and John Henry
up to the girl opposite. The brunette saw his chance. He streaked his hand
wasn’t appreciating Sagmon Robot- for the mysterious card. And she
tom’s performance at all. Instead, she turned back. She put her face up close
had her face turned to a stocky young and whispered, “Are you a policeman?
man in gray trousers and blue sport I’ll bet you think I had something to
coat who strode up purposefully. do with the murder.”
The girl patted the yellow tiles be¬ “What murder?” He had her now.
side her and Conover sat down awk¬ “You know what murder, Johnny. It
wardly . . . was in the paper this morning. Do you
John Henry had no more than de¬ think I did it?”
termined how to pursue his course of “Well, did you?”
clever questioning than Miss Jordan Faye Jordan shook her black braids
said matter-of-factly, “I suppose you’re disconsolately. “I wish I had. Nobody
here to find out how I got your cottage. ever thinks I’m criminal. It’s not ex¬
Your wife probably sent you.” citing. Nothing’s exciting.”
“That’s not true.” John Henry was baffled. The en¬
The girl’s eyes brightened and she graved card had slipped down inside
leaned closer to him. He glanced around her trunks. He said suddenly, “Why
hurriedly. Sin wasn’t in sight. A mid¬ did you insist on changing cottages
dle-aged man was flailing up and down with us, Faye?”
 BOB WADE A!JD BILL MILLER 37
“Johnny,” she crooned, “Mr. Gayner soared in whirlwinds of color, enraged
insisted that I move to Cottage fifteen.” at the disturbing visitors. The>
John Henry patted her shoulder pa¬ screamed piercingly.
ternally. “I believe you, Faye.” “Pretend to watch the birds,” the flat
She stretched toward him as if she voice commanded.
expected to be stroked. She whispered,
“I’ll bet we’ll be as close as friends can
get—darling.”
R ICH-BLOSSOMED trees pressed in
from every side. Sunlight through
John Henry gulped .. . the leaves cast an odd pattern of black
Sin clenched her fists hard. She said and gold over the dripping half-naked
to herself: “Now look here, St. Clair, man. The din was tremendous. Sin
you are not going to lose your temper.” put her hands over her ears.
Across the pool, Miss Jordan was “Let me go,” she begged.
smiling sleepily up at John Henry. Stronger hands pulled them away
Sin gritted her teeth. She was on again. “Listen to me. My name is
fire, from the dark red page-boy down Sagmon Robottom.”
to the crimson toenails that peeked out The name didn’t mean anything to
of her suede sandals. She was wear¬ her. “Let me go,” Sin said again.
ing a filmy white blouse and full peas¬ “My business permits me no respect
ant skirt that made her look a saucy for feelings,” Robottom said. “I get
eighteen. Not like a cast-aside wife. what I seek. I’ve robbed graves and
John Henry was helping the Jordan rifled tombs to do my duty—immortal¬
girl to her feet. He flashed a guilty ize the dead. I want you to recognize
look at Sin as the brunette seized his how strongly I feel about this entire
hand gaily and started to drag him affair.”
along toward the guest cottages. Sin “We haven’t done anything,” Sin
clenched her fists. said, trying to make the man under¬
The reluctant Conover was pulled stand.
out of sight between screening palms. “Neither you nor your husband will
Sin marched determinedly after her be hurt,” Robottom said. Then he add¬
husband. ed, “If.”
On the other side of the palm trees,
“If what?” Sin quavered.
she felt the grip of a cold, wet hand
on her elbow. A toneless voice said: “If you forget all this Jones business
“We had better have a talk.” and go home where you belong. I’m
Towering over her was a swimmer doing you a service, Mrs. Conover. This
whose hair stood up in wet silver barbs. race is for the strong. You’ll have no
Water still trickled down his lean hard chance of winning. Stay out of this,
face and over the wiry muscles of his Mrs. Conover. No more Joneses. No
darkly tanned body. more Conovers in Azure. Can I depend
“Well, I’m sorry,” Sin said. “I have upon you to take that message to your
to catch my husband.” husband? Stay away from things
which aren’t your business. Briefly,
Iron fingers tightened on her elbow.
Mrs. Conover—stay away from her!”
“Talk first,” the man said flatly. “One
short warning before it’s too late.” The “Who—”
damp hand urged her onto a shady Feet crunched on the gravel path be¬
graveled way. hind them. Sin caught a glimpse of
“Who are you?” said Sin faintly. Thelma Loomis and Mr. Trim strolling
“A person who permits no interfer¬ toward the giant cage.
ence,” was the man’s answer. They “That is an astonishing specimen,”
were headed for a huge brick and screen said Robottom and his voice seemed
building that loomed through the tropi¬ better suited for a lecture. “The Indian
cal foliage. “Call for all the help you hill macaw. His vocal prowess—”
like,” the white-haired man intoned. Sin left him, slipping between the
“No one will notice another noise from trees. She had to find John Henry and
this direction.” leave this horrible place.
They stood before the building. Its It wasn’t until she reached the patio
four comer pillars were bare adobe that she realized she was running as if
bricks. The rest was wire mesh. In¬ pursued by demons . . .
side, bright-winged birds darted and The road was bumpy even in her
 33 POP GOES t;:e queen
convertible Mercury. John Henry E^AYE crawled over his lap and slid
conned the girl’s profile against the -*■ to the ground. “It’s no dude ranch,”
speeding desert. Faye ruined his she said. She had the mysterious card
analysis with a boudoir smile. in one hand now.
“We’re almost there now, Johnny.” Faye banged at the door with the
“Where?” heavy brass knocker.
She lowered her lashes enigmatically. “Are they expecting you?” Conover
John Henry couldn’t get an answer for asked.
that particular question. Back at the “That’s no fun.” The door swung
pool, Faye had suddenly told him he open and a battered face peered at
would be interested in seeing a fas¬ them.
cinating place—a secret place. Curious, “Won’t you come in?”
he had allowed himself to be carried Faye stepped blithely forward and
away from the Las Dunas, out across John Henry followed. The man who
the rolling plains. A mile or so back, had opened the door was dressed in a
Faye had wheeled the Mercury off on black double-breasted suit with a black
a dirt road. bow tie. There was a lot of him. A
The sun was midway to the meridian. well-groomed ape.
Heat waves were beginning to shimmer “Are we late?” Faye asked him.
up from the mesquite and sagebrush- The man said, “Never. Your card,
matted hillocks. The road hugged the madame?”
Santa Rosa foothills. Faye flipped her fingers and he caught
Faye had changed her bathing suit the card deftly. John Henry was dis¬
for a play dress with a bare midriff. appointed. For the card bore no queen
The exposed stomach bothered John symbol. Whorls and lines of patterned
Henry some. What bothered him more engraving followed the edge like those
was the card. He could see the white on a bond or a bank note. In the cen¬
edge protruding from her skirt pocket. ter was a straight black line followed
by a large C.
But he wasn’t going to try for it again
—not right away. It was all he could “Certainly,” the butler said rustily.
do to stay on his own side of the car, “You will forgive these precautions,
the gay way she took the hairpin but they have been found to be neces¬
sary. My name is Sidney, madame.”
curves.
“I’m Miss Jordan, Sidney. And this
“There it is,” Faye announced hap¬
is Mr. Conover.”
pily and John Henry opened his eyes.
Sidney waved them into the dimness.
The Mercury was rolling headlong
He walked silently behind them down
down an incline toward a barbed-wire
the long hall. It got darker and darker.
fence which vaulted the road in the
Can you see?” Faye whispered ex¬
form of a log archway. The swinging citedly.
sign spelled out Bar C Ranch in twigs.
“Of course not.”
Mesquite, sagebrush and greasewood
had been banished In their place “I can,” she boasted.
spouted feathery green tamarisk trees, At the end of the lengthy corridor
pink and white oleanders and palms. Sidney pulled a heavy drap aside and
beneath it was another of the large
The low, rambling ranchhouse, con¬ curved doorways. Beyond the door
structed of adobe, was plastered with a that Sidney was opening, a band was
beige stucco. It had been aged in playing furiously, brassily.
spots by allowing the adobe bricks to It was a big square room, low-ceil-
peep through. Wooden shutters were inged, with sporting prints on the beige
on the windows, but behind them, John stucco. The complete absence of win¬
Henry could see shiny metal Venetian dows made the walls seem blind and
blinds. faceless. Near the door stood a bank
“Isn’t it darling!” Faye breathed as of slot machines. Opposite them were
she forced the Mercury to a jarring chuck-a-luck tables. Down the center
stop. were faro and poker tables and at the
John Henry said, “Just what is this far end a roulette wheel.
place? What’s so secret about a dude “Isn’t this fun ?” Faye bubbled. “Give
ranch?” me some money.”
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 89
Automatically, John Henry dug a Faye was regarding Lay with inter¬
quarter out of his pocket. est.
Though it was barely eleven o’clock, She asked, “What’s your racket,
the wheel was in full spin. Men and stranger?”
women of all ages bordered the board. “This is Lieutenant Lay of the Azure
Counterpointing the rhythm of the in¬ Police, Faye,” said John Henry.
candescent red juke box, an intermin¬ “I like policemen,” Faye whispered
able hum of comment filled the room, confidentially and loudly to Conover,
punctuated by the monotonous drone “He’s cute.”
of the croupiers, the laughs of the ex¬ “Well,” said John Henry nervously,
citement hunters, the wealthy visitors “good to have seen you again, Lieuten¬
to Azure. ant. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”
John Henry caught up with Faye. “Don’t run off,” said Lay evenly. “I
She was angrily shaking a slot machine. haven’t seen you playing, Mr. Conover.
As he looked around apprehensively What could you be doing here? Here,
there sounded a violent click. Silver of all places.”
jangled. “Tell him,” Faye urged.
“I won, Johnny!” Faye scooped a “It’s very simple,” he said. “I don’t
double handful of coins from the ma¬ know.”
chine. “Here’s your quarter back.” “See!” Triumphantly, she downed her
“Thanks,” said John Henry wryly. rye and drank Conover’s.
“Now what’s the big idea dragging me “You wouldn’t be figuring on follow¬
out here?” ing up Anglin’s killing, would you?”
“Aren’t you having fun? What you asked Lay. “I’m surprised to see you
need is a drink.” without your wife.”
“Oh, she’s back at the hotel.”
Faye grabbed his hand and tugged
“Convenient,” said Lay and specula¬
him toward the bar.
tively eyed Faye Jordan. “Most wives
“It’s too early,” John Henry pro¬ aren’t that understanding.”
tested. The policeman interpreted Conover’s
“Better early than never.” quick frown of worry and chuckled.
John Henry began rehearsing an ex¬ The bartender refilled the two glasses.
planation for Sin. But when John Henry reached for his
it was already empty.
V John Henry sighed at the prospect
of a drunken female on his hands in
J§EPARATED from the gambling addition to everything else. Lay lifted
room by an archway, the bar was his beer glass and said, “You better
lighted only by the pink neon facings have one of these, Conover. They don’t
on the big mirror. A solitary man disappear so fast.”
hunched on one of the leather-topped Faye lost her balance. Her piercing
bar stools. The mess-jacketed bar¬ shriek brought heads around in the
tender was polishing glasses. gambling hall as she toppled to the
Faye banged a fist on the bar. floor. Her pocketful of quarters jan¬
“What’ll you have, pardner?” gled like another jackpot as they
“You order,” said John Henry. spewed across the room. The crowd
“Two rye—straight,” said Faye. went back to their games.
Conover looked at the gamblers in “Did you hurt yourself, Faye?” John
the main room. “What gets me,” he Henry asked, helping her to her feet.
mused, “is how they do all this. I’m She was cooing happily. “Play time,”
surprised the police haven’t cracked she gurgled. “Push me again, Johnny.”
down.” He grunted exasperatedly. “I didn’t push you—”
“Just what I thought last night— “Johnny! Where’s my money?” Both
crooked cops.” Faye’s hands scrambled in her dress
He looked in the bar mirror at the pocket. “You stole it! I want a police¬
eyes of Lieutenant Lay. man!”
“Morning, Mr. Conover,” said the “Shut up!” said John Henry. “Your
lanky police officer sardonically. He money’s on the floor.”
sat close enough, Conover realized sick- He began scooping it up. When he
eningly, to have heard every syllable. rose, red-faced, Faye was touching up
 90 POP GOES THE QUEEN
her lipstick. Lay’s horsy grin was a combination library and den. It was
amused and mocking. He gazed devoid of life.
through the archway at the turbulence “In here,” she whispered.
in the other room. The room was stuffy. John Henry
“Yeah,” he said, as if continuing a went across to the window that broke
conversation, “it’s illegal, Conover, but the wall of books. No air at all seemed
in a hopped-up town like this there’s to enter the library.
some things a cop has to keep his eyes Faye had closed the door and was
closed about. If I got as rough as I’d peeking through the keyhole.
like to around this burg, I’d be looking “What are you looking for?” he
for a new badge.” asked.
John Henry remembered Faye. The The carpet tilted a little. He reached
black-haired girl was at the roulette for the desk to steady himself and
table arguing with the polite croupier. it moved away. Faye got up and walked
“I better go see what’s happened to up hill and she got farther away. Then
the problem child,” Conover said. there were two of her, a dozen, a whole
“What’s the trouble now, Faye?” he roomful.
asked, elbowing up behind her. He couldn’t count Faye Jordan any
“Johnny!” she squealed, gesticula¬ more because all of her were perform¬
ting at the croupier. “He won’t let me ing a weird dance that glided faster and
play!” faster. The last thing he heard was the
The croupier, a small, dark man put chorus of Faye, giggling.
up slim, deprecating hands.
“I have explained,” he said plaintive¬ Sin flung herself across the bed, still
ly, "but madame will not listen. A panting with fright. Where was John
house rule—she must use chips. Not Henry? Why did he insist on getting
quarter dollars.” mixed up in things that were none of
“Exactly,” crowed Faye. “Sock him his business?
in the nose, Johnny.” She caught herself watching the red¬

J wood desk that held the Eversharp and

OHN Henry fastened determined fin¬ the cipher. There was always the po¬
gers on Faye’s soft shoulder. lice. Sin turned her back defiantly on
“Come on!” he gritted and propelled the telephone. If she started the police
her toward the door. looking for John Henry and he was all
Faye was giggling happily. “He’s so right, he’d he angry.
strong,” she said to the people they Sin heard a door close softly in the
passed. “You have no idea!” next cottage, Miss Jordan’s cottage. If
“Now snap out of it, Faye,” John she had come back then John Henry . . .
Henry grated. He shook her gently. Eagerly, she peeked through the slats
“I want a straight answer.” of the window blind.
Faye tried to salute but John Henry It was not John Henry who had
kept his grip on her arms. ulled the blue door to gently behind
“You had a reason for bringing me im. It was Gayner. He stepped off
out here. What was it?” the porch and started walking quickly
“Wanted company,” she crooned. back to the hotel.
Sin stepped outside. Gayner had al¬
“There’s more than that.”
ready vanished. Without reason, Sin
Her sleek braided head nodded slow¬ began to run, anxious not to lose sight
ly. “Got something I wanna tell you,” of him. Gayner was a tangible link
she whispered. between her and the tangled web that
“Okay. We’ll go back to the car.” might have enmeshed her husband
He pushed her into the entrance hall. again. Something furtive in Gayner’s
John Henry put the concealing drape manner warned her that this had been
back in place. Faye had prowled away no official visit.
down the long corridor, opening doors Gayner was just going into the Las
and peering inside curiously. He caught Dunas lobby when Sin reached the pa¬
up with her and said loudly: tio. Somebody called her name. It
“Now what—” was Sagmon Robottom, his bronze face
She put a forefinger across her lips, stern, sauntering toward her from the
opened the door to what appeared to be pool. Sin whirled and fled. She rushed
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 91
into the lobby. Gayner was going down There was nothing interesting in
the front steps, his walk brisk and pur¬ sight, so Sin tried the desk. In the cen¬
poseful. ter drawer was a sheaf of papers, all
“You look like you’re in a hurry,” maps apparently of the area surround¬
Thelma Loomis said, as the two women ing Azure, the Salton Sea and Borego
dodged around each other at the front Valley. The first was labeled: “Flood
entrance. of 1849.” Penciled under this was the
Sin kept going. handwritten notation, “Very rough re¬
Mr. Trim was just getting out of the construction—prob. inaccurate.” A
elevator. She gave him a tight smile large area of the drawing had been
and didn’t slacken pace. shaded, most of it lying south of Azure.
Gayner was still in sight through The next map was no more explicit.
the driveway border of palms and tam¬ The date was 1891. Again a portion
arisks. Sin loitered behind a palm while of the map was shaded. The date on
Gayner looked up and down the street. l^ie third map was 1905-07 and it was
Then he went hurriedly down the hill titled: “Formation of S/S.” The dark¬
toward the center of town. ened area was present, drawn in greater
A block away from the Las Dunas, detail. Sin recognized Highway 99. At
Gayner suddenly disappeared from the southern tip of the Santa Rosa
sight. However, he was apparently ob¬ Mountains, another and smaller sec¬
livious of his tracker. Sin found he’d tion had been shaded, its vertical lines
merely angled sharply into a narrow superimposed on the horizontal stripes
alley leading to the back door of one of the larger expanse. A cross had
of the buildings. been drawn in pencil at a spot in this
The place looked familiar and it came area and a notation made.
to Sin why it should. Homer Anglin The rest of the papers were aerial
had died there. Gayner was letting photographs of desert country.
himself quietly into the Ship of the Light, torrents of it, flooded the of¬
Desert . . . fice. Sin shrieked and jumped up.
Gayner knocked on the door to Bar- “Bad for your eyes, Mrs. Conover—
selou’s office. There was no reply, and reading in the dark.” Vernon leaned
the beat of his knuckles echoed emp¬ sorrowfully in the doorway.
tily throughout the big deserted res¬ He moved toward the desk, and Sin
taurant. saw that he was pointing a gun at her.
He opened the door, edged into the “Keep quiet,” he said, “and you might
office. Gayner sat down behind the be all right.” He raised his voice. “All
desk, pulled the telephone to him and right.”
called Barselou. Gayner stepped through the open
doorway and regarded their captive
F ROM her hiding place among the with chilly amusement. “I hope we
music racks on the bandstand, Sin didn’t give you too much of a shock,
watched Gayner come from the balcony Mrs. Conover,”, he said pleasantly.
and across to the kitchen doors. A “Vernon, you may put away the gun.
moment later, she heard the slam of the Mrs. Conover realizes that she’ll have
back door. to do as we say.”
A church hush lay over the Ship of “What do you want from me?” Sin
the Desert. She was all alone in the quavered.
restaurant. Sin began to feel more Gayner said neartily, “That’s exactly
foolish than nervous. She’d have a hard what I was going to ask you. And I
time explaining what she was doing wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Barselou
trespassing. She didn’t even know her¬ didn’t repeat the question.”
self. Gaynor motioned Sin toward the door
Sin slipped off the bandstand and tip¬ and down the staircase. The bellboy
toed to the staircase that led to the bal¬ threaded a path before them and pushed
cony. Since she was trespassing any¬ through the swinging doors into the
way, she might as well make a good kitchen.
job of it. Sin climbed the stairs. At No one had mentioned John Henry,
the top, she paused to listen. She heard Sin thought. Was that good or bad?
nothing to keep her from opening the “Where’s the car?” asked Vernon.
door to the office. “The usual place,” Gayner said
 92 POP GOES THE QUEEN
quietly. “Now, Mrs. Conover, I needn’t gander at that creep on the bike—a
warn you that any commotion at all black suit in this heat!” His calloused
will be utterly useless. And foolish on forefinger gestured in disgust toward a
your part.” They went out into the couple approaching.
alley. “Stop the car!” John Henry yelled.
“But I don’t know anything!” Sin Alarmed, the driver jammed on his
cried desperately.
“Come on,” said Vernon. “I’m sup¬ “What the hell!” he said.
posed to be on duty.” John Henry had already opened the
They urged her out into the street. door and vaulted to the pavement.
Down the block, a black sedan nuzzled “Thanks a lot for the ride,” he tossed
the curb. over his shoulder and darted across the
street.
F ROM behind them, a man’s high-
pitched voice called, “Yoo-hoo! Mrs.
"Sin!”
The red-haired girl on the bicycle
Conover!” looked up. Then she screamed.
“You don’t hear him,” Gayner mut¬ “Johnny!”
tered. Her handle bars spun unguided into
“Mrs. Conover!” Trim appeared Trim’s bicycle. Cement and sky whirled
alongside the trio, on a bicycle. Com¬ crazily for a moment. When the sky
ing up behind him was Thelma Loomis, was on top again, Sin was sitting on the
pedaling energetically. The Bry-Ter cement. Both bicycles were heaped on
representative showed his teeth in a Mr. Trim.
waggish grin. “Ah, Mrs. Conover— “Sin, Sin—are you all right?” John
you were trying to run away from me!” Henry’s voice said.
“Not from you!” Sin choked. Sin reached her arms up for her hus¬
Gayner said hurriedly, “We’re in band. He hugged her.
quite a rush, Mr. Trim, so if—” “Johnny, darling, I was worried
Sin wriggled forward frantically. sick!”
“Don’t wait for me, Mr. Gayner. I’ve “I’m sorry, Sin. I shouldn’t have—”
been wanting to talk to Mr. Trim, any¬ Amid a jangling of metal, Mr. Trim
way. It was nice of you to offer me arose from the street.
the ride.” Sin began to get some presence of
Thelma Loomis got off her bicycle. mind. “I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Trim.
“You take this machine, young lady I was so worried about Johnny and
—I’m not built for it.” She shoved the when I saw him—”
bike at Sin. “Here—or don’t you think The Bry-Ter representative sum¬
these things are safe?” moned up a brave smile. It faded as he
“Oh, yes!” breathed Sin, grabbing discovered one serge trouser leg was
the handle bars. ripped from the hip down, exposing a
Gayner bowed slightly. “We’ll run milk-white thigh and calf.
along then, Mrs. Conover. Some other “I’ll insist on taking care of this,”
time.” John Henry said.
He and Vernon got into the Buick. Trim shook his head. “Expense ac¬
It slid away from the curb. Thelma count.”
Loomis strode chuckling up the street
toward the Las Dunas. VI
Mr. Trim asked, “What was it you
had to say to me, Mrs. Conover?” CROSS Date Street, at a sidewalk
“This!” Sin cried, laughing brokenly. caf6 table, John Henry related his
She threw her arms around the little adventures.
man and kissed his bald spot. “I got dizzy all of a sudden,” he con¬
cluded. “When I woke up I was all by
“Whereabouts you want to go?” the myself. Somebody had gone through
truck driver growled. my pockets. Faye was gone.”
“Any place in town,” John Henry “She drugged you and searched you!”
said. Sin said accusingly.
As the truck crept into the center of “I guess so. Anyway, I climbed out
the city, the driver said, “You see some a window and hitchhiked back here.”
characters around this place. Take a John Henry looked uncomfortable. “All
 BOB WADE A! iD BILL MILLER ?:
right, I made a fool of myself. Next tion for either the individual guest or
time I’ll keep my nose in my own busi¬ an operator. Now, the determining
ness—like you, Sin.” lever was set in the drive-yourself slot.
“Well,” she murmured, “as a matter John Henry threw the sliding doors
of record—” together just in time to avoid Gayner’s
While she told of Sagmon Robottom clutching hands. Blindly, he pushed
and his mysterious warning, John Hen¬ one of the black buttons on the panel.
ry’s chin began to jut forward. As she The elevator began to grind upward
continued with the story of following smoothly.
Gayner and finding the flood maps, his John Henry let out his breath in a
face turned red. And when Sin had long sigh. His legs felt weak. Sin was
ended the tale of near kidnaping, her crouching in a corner.
husband slammed his fist down on the “Buck up, honey,” John Henry said
table hard. stoutly. “We’re doing all right.”
“We came here on a vacation,” he The elevator came to a stop at the
stated. “Not to sun ourselves on a fourth floor.
firing range. Not to be searched. Not “It’s okay, honey,” John Henry said
to have my wife threatened. “We’re soothingly.
through with this munitions dump!” He reached out a hand to open the
Mr. Trim bade them good-by in front sliding doors. The elevator started down
of the Las Dunas. Sin flatly refused again. The light marked “1” glowed
to enter the lobby where Gayner or red. Gayner or Vernon had pushed the
Vernon might be waiting. “down” button on the main floor. Since
So the Conovers sauntered innocently the doors had been closed, the elevator
along the front of the south wing. Then, had responded automatically. Wildly,
they turned the comer and plunged into John Henry began punching at all the
the shrubbery. black buttons. Then he saw the red
“Do you think anybody saw us, button. It angered him. He jabbed it.
Johnny?” The elevator jarred to an abrupt halt
“Hope not,” muttered John Henry. between floors.
“We’ll get the baggage and beat it.” Immediately, John Henry pushed one
The grass they hurried across was of the black buttons again. He shouted
lifeless in the hot afternoon sun. The in exultation as the cage surged up¬
flagstones gave off ripples of heat. ward.
Sin stopped in her tracks. “Johnny— “We’re still winning, sweetheart!” he
look!” cried. “Get out the minute it stops!”
Slouched on the porch of Cottage The elevator stopped at the third
fourteen was Vernon. His mournful floor. John Henry forced the doors
face split into a pitying grim at the apart and they bounded out into the
sight of the Conovers. hallway. As the doors slid to behind
John Henry grabbed Sin and whirled them the elevator started down again.
her around. “Back to the hotel,” he “Where to now?” Sin asked trem¬
said under his breath. ulously.
Vernon was matching them stride for
stride when they pounded up to the
glass doors. They were halfway across
H E seized his wife’s hand reassur¬
ingly and they hastened down the
the lobby when a thin length was hallway, looking for a friendly door.
framed in the opposite glass portal. Sin said anxiously, “Maybe we should
Gayner was just entering. start knocking on doors.”
Except for the clerk, the lobby was By the window at the end of the hall,
empty. Both exits were blocked. Con¬ the last door opened. Sin let out a
over swung his wife about and they yelp.
headed for the elevator. Gayner and “Oh, Johnny—it’s him!”
Vernon started in pursuit of the flee¬ The man who stepped into the hall
ing couple. was Sagmon Robottom. His dark face
John Henry half-hurled Sin into the went astonished as he sighted the Con¬
open elevator. “Up!” he snapped. overs. Then he strode forward. His
“Johnny,” Sin moaned, “there’s no hand plunged into his coat pocket and
operator!” stayed there, a grim bulge.
Th? elevator was designed to func- John Henry jerked Sin sideways and
 94 POP GOES THE QUEEN
dashed down the stairs. Stumbling, up with one hand, opened the car door
gasping with terror, she followed him nearest his hand—a convertible coupe
in his wild flight toward the second with the top up—and thrust his trem¬
floor. Behind them, Robottom’s shout bling wife inside. He shut the door
trailed off. quietly behind him.
The second floor was like the third—a “See ’em?” Vernon’s question came
deserted carpeted gauntlet of reticent from four or five cars away. Gayner
doors. John Henry took one heedless replied something that John Henry
step down toward the lobby. Then Sin couldn’t make out.
backed up so quickly that she sat down “Johnny—” Sin began.
heavily. John Henry jabbed her. “Quiet!” he
In huge relief on the stucco wall of breathed.
the landing was the shadow of a man “But, Johnny, all I wanted to say was
climbing the stairs. The shadow wore that the keys—”
a pillpox hat. It might be Vernon. “Will you keep quiet?”
With a squeak, Sin was on her feet Sin pointed a finger. From the dash¬
again. John Henry hustled her along board, a chain with several keys trailed
the hallway. The window at the end down from another key which was half-
was a curtained view of the free out¬ buried in the ignition switch. The feel¬
doors. John Henry’s face brightened. ing surged over John Henry that he
“Out on the fire-escape, Sin. Hurry!” had been here before. He craned his
She scrambled over the sill. Swear¬ head at the registration slip. The name
ing tensely, her husband followed. He was Faye Jordan.
could hear Vernon’s yell of triumph as “I might have known,” he muttered.
he spotted the fugitives. Gravel ground against gravel as
Seizing his wife, Conover stepped out shoes crunched closer to them. Vernon
onto the swaying fire-escape. It creaked spoke, so close that the Conovers nearly
rustily and the far end began to float fell off the seat.
toward the ground. There was a clank “I told you they went back to the cot¬
and a slight bounce. The Conovers tage.”
clattered down the iron steps and the Gayner’s severe denial came from al¬
staircase soared back to the second most directly behind the convertible.
floor. The trap was perfect now—the bellboy
“The car—come on!” growled John on one side and the assistant manager
Henry. on the other.
They trotted along the porch wing of
the hotel between a hedge and the stuc¬
co wall, then burst suddenly into the
J OHN Henry cautiously wormed un¬
der the steering wheel and turned on
Las Dunas parking lot to run for their the ignition. The coupe jolted as a
car. body leaned against it and a freckled
John Henry halted his glad reach for hand trailed along the window ledge.
the door handle. He felt in his left- John Henry went into motion before
hand trousers pocket, then rummaged his reason had time to argue. His
through all his other pockets. right foot kicked at the starter. He
“When Faye searched me, she stole drove his left fist straight at Vernon’s
the keys to our car!” he said bitterly. startled face. Vernon’s profane sur¬
Sin let out a wail of fresh panic. John prise was just a squawk as he fell.
Henry peered into the useless sedan. The engine exploded into life and the
The car, like their baggage and him¬ Mercury leaped forward. Behind them,
self had been thoroughly ransacked. they could hear Gayner yelling. The
“Let’s look for one with the keys in coupe cut around the parked cars and
it,” he snapped. hurtled onto Coachella Street. John
They had rounded the row and were Henry gunned off toward Highway 99
starting back toward the other side and escape from Azure.
when Gayner’s voice came from the op¬ Sin pulled herself to the seat. “Damn
posite side of the automobiles. my memory—damn my memory,” she
“Vernon, get a move on! They must mumbled. “I’ll never remember an¬
be around here somewhere!” other thing as long as I live. I’ll never
Sin sank toward the gravel as if her answer a question in public. I swear
legs had melted. John Henry held her it.” She squirmed around for a look
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 95
at the hotel. “Johnny! They’re fol¬ to summon Sidney. The door opened
lowing us!” easily. The Conovers stepped in. '
John Henry flicked his eyes at the “I don’t hear anything,” Sin pressed
rearview mirror and swore. A big black nervously.
Buick sedan danced in the polished “It’s in a back wing. That’s where
surface of the highway. It looked like everybody is.”
Vernon behind the wheel. They crept cautiously down the cor¬
John Henry glanced at the gas gauge ridor and John Henry pulled aside the
and swore again. The tank was less drape. Through the heavy arched door
than a quarter full. They’d never be he could hear the juke box and the
able to outrun the Buick on that. clang of the slot machine.
“Where the hell are the cops?” John “We made it, honey!” he cried joy¬
Henry wanted to know, outraged. “Any ously, threw open the big door and
other time they’d be swarming all over plunged into the casino.
us.” His cheerless face went suddenly They stopped short on the threshold.
incandescent. “The ranch!” he shout¬ The juke box blared, but the room was
ed. “There’s a crowd at the ranch. empty except for two men.
Faye’s back at the hotel—we’ve got “Well, look who came,” said Barselou
her car. And Lieutenant Lay’s at the from where he stood before the one-
ranch! It’s the safest place in the armed bandit.
world right now!” He had pulled down the lever and a
John Henry, keeping anxious watch flood of quarters began to pour from
in the rearview mirror, lost sight of the the metal mouth.
big black car for moments at a time “Jack pot,” commented the other
as they raced up and down the rolling man.
hillocks. They were nearly to the dirt He was the plump waiter from the
road which led to the Bar C Ranch. Ship of the Desert, but dressed now
Vernon and the Buick were hidden be¬ in a brown suit. In one fat hand he
hind a rise of ground. Tires screamed held a revolver.
as the convertible checked its headlong “I didn’t expect you so soon,” Barse¬
rush and bounced off Highway 99 onto lou remarked.
the dirt road. It skidded in the soft The pseudo-waiter gestured with the
sand, swayed sickeningly for a moment, gun. “Come the rest of the way in.
then righted itself. Conover brought And close the door.”
the coupe to a stop behind a screen of The stupefied Conovers obeyed. Bar¬
trees. selou jerked his head at the fat man.
He was watching what he could see “Better check, Odell.”
of the main road through the back
window. There was a furious rush of O DELL patted John Henry’s pockets
and armpits and thighs with a
sound and the Buick sedan tore by
them. Vernon was alone in the car. questing hand. Then he looked at the
When the black car disappeared John girl. Sin shrank behind her husband
Henry grinned at his wife and let out and Conover clenched his fists.
the clutch again. “We won’t cause bad feeling,” Barse¬
lou told his henchman.
“I think we shook him for a while,”
he said. “By the time he finds out we’re John Henry recovered his voice,
though it was scarcely better than a
not in front of him, we’ll be safe.”
croak. “Lieutenant Lay?” he asked.
Sin dropped back against the leather “Oh, were you expecting to meet him
cushions. By the time he raised a face here?” Barselou asked. “He’s been gone
that was white under its tan, the Bar a good hour. His bright idea was we
C Ranch sprawled before the wind¬ close down until the Anglin killing
shield. blows over. I didn’t argue. Sidney and
They whisked under the log arch and the boys deserve a couple days off.”
came to a stop in the parking area. The John Henry cursed himself for not
automobiles had vanished. heeding the warning of the empty
“H’m,” mused John Henry, “I hope parking lot.
the place isn’t closed.” Barselou said, “You see, the Bar C
They didn’t knock. John Henry had is more than a place of business to me.
no admittance card and he didn’t want This is my home.”
 POP GOES THE QUEEN
John Henry couldn’t suppress a any California history at all, you should
groan. know it.”
Barselou sat in a chair opposite
them. Odell leaned against the slot ma¬ vn
chine, carefully inattentive.
“All right,” said the big man. “Now ^VONOVER kept silent. He had some¬
suppose we talk business.” thing to bargain with—the all-impor¬
“Okay,” said John Henry. “We’re tant pencil—but how to use it?
willing to listen to a proposition.” “In the year seventeen-hundred and
Barselou looked as if he were not forty-four,” Barselou began to relate,
smiling on purpose. “You’re in no posi¬ “a Spanish galleon left Manila, headed
tion to bargain. We hold the cards, for Mexico. This ship was loaded with
Conover.” jewels, silks, gold and other precious
“But not the Queen,” Sin said. metals. The wealth of the Philippines,
Barselou said, “You’re right. I don’t intended for Philip the Fifth. This
hold the big Queen. But I do hold you.” ship was one of the Manila galleons
“I’m still listening,” said John Henry. that had been crossing the Pacific
“Then listen to this—I want to know every year for almost two centuries.
everything that went bn between you They came south along the coast of
and Anglin.” California and eventually arrived in
“And if we don’t feel like telling?” Mexico—with luck. It was a hard trip.
Odell moved forward, his hand fall¬ It took several months and usually half
ing into his coat pocket. the crew died of scurvy before they
Sin said quickly, “Wait! Please wait got to Acapulco.
a minute! Mr. Barselou, we have a con¬ “On top of this, there were other
fession to make.” hazards. Pirates flocked from all over
“You came to the right church,” said the world to get a crack at the Manila
Odell. galleon. Sir Frances Drake, Woodes
“We don’t know what all this is Rogers, Shelvocke, Clipperton—all of
about.” them had their try. They’d wait for
Barselou laughed incredulously. the galleon along the California coast.
“That’s right, Barselou,” said John In seventeen-hundred.and-f o r t y-f our,
Henry with angry deliberation. “And this section of the country was unex¬
we don’t want to know. All we want to plored. Then when the galleon came
do is get out of here and forget all along the pirates would jump her. The
about it. We were going home when battle was usually one-sided.”
we got sidetracked here.” Barselou let his gaze encompass
Barselou shook his heavy head slow¬ John Henry. “So the first point, Cono¬
ly. “That won’t do. Not at all.” ver, is that the particular ship that left
“Please, Mr. Barselou,” Sin pleaded. Manila in seventeen-hundred-and-forty-
“We’re telling you the truth. We don’t four was named La Reina—the Queen.
have anything you want. We don’t The Queen was commanded by a Span¬
know anything. P-Please believe us!” ish officer named Arvaez y Moncada.
A vision of a pencil in a desk drawer She carried a mighty rich cargo that
suddenly rose in John Henry’s mind. year. Old records put the value of the
But, either Sin had forgotten the pencil arls alone at four or five million dol-
or she was using her feminine guile to
throw Barselou off-balance. “Gosh,” Sin murmured.
“So you don’t know what it’s all “An English pirate named Bledsoe
about,” mocked Barselou, considering fired on the Queen off the tip of Lower
them with narrowed eyes. He reached California. But Captain Arvaez was
a conclusion. “Maybe,” he said, “Anglin lucky. A storm blew up and he was
didn’t sell you everything he knew. able to dodge the buccaneers. How¬
Maybe he didn’t think you’d believe ever, to be on the safe side, Arvaez de¬
the actual facts about the Queen. Or cided to take the Reina north, up the
maybe you’re lying. I want you to Gulf of California. I guess he figured
know what an unbelievable amount of on waiting a few days until Bledsoe got
money is at stake. out of the neighborhood.
“The story of the Queen is quite a “Well, the Reina reached the head
story, Mrs. Conover. If you’ve read of the Gulf. But as far as Arvaez
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER
could see to the north was a great in¬ somewhere in the Badlands, between
land sea. Neither he nor his navigator, here and San Felipe Creek, rocky, rug¬
a Portuguese named Ferrelo, had ged country, chopped up with a lot of
dreamed of such a body of water. But sublevel canyons.”
I don’t suppose they were too surprised. “Why don’t you
In those days, the maps were more often “Because finding something in the
wrong than right. badlands is like looking for the needle
“Arvaez decided to explore this new in the haystack,” Barselou replied cold¬
sea. So the Reina kept going north. ly. “You can find it if you’ve got the
Now and then they passed little islands time. I thought I had the tim>—until
but there weren’t any signs of life. you showed up.” His pupils showed as
After several days, Arvaez discovered chips of silvered glass. “Now I can’t
the sea was getting shallower. So he afford to wait. From here bn, you help.”
turned back, and got the shuck of his “Who killed Anglin?” John Henry
life. The water had disappeared and insisted.
only sand was left. Desperately, he “That doesn’t matter,” said Earselou
sailed back and forth. Everywhere he impatiently, ignoring the shocked faces
went, the inland sea was drying up. across the table. “I hired him last year
At last, there wasn’t enough water to to find the Queen. I was to pay him so
allow the Reina to draw. Her keel much over expenses. A week ago,
struck bottom and that was that. Anglin said the galleon was in the Bad¬
There’d been heavy rains and the lands and he wa3 figuring out a route
Colorado River overflowed its banks. to reach her. Yesterday Odell found
The overflow flooded this desert country, out that Anglin wasn’t playing all his
most of which is below sea level, any¬ cards over the board.”
way. The Queen sailed in when the
“He thought he’d play it smart,”
flood was at its height. Then when the Odell muttered.
waters receded, she was left high and
dry.” He surveyed the Conovers’ ex¬ “Anglin had wired to a Mr. and Mrs.
Jones in San Diego telling them he’d
pressions of incredulity. “It’s fact. The
floods have happened three times since. found the Queen. What exactly Anglin
had in his mind, I don’t know. However,
The last time was in nineteen-hundred-
and-five. That’s how the Salton Sea Mr. and Mrs. Conover—or Jones—I
will not play games.”
got there.”
“Oh!” cried Sin excitedly. “That’s Sin protested faintly, “But we’re not
what you were doing with those maps!” the—”
Barselou’s heavy lips curled ironical¬ “We tried to get to Anglin before he
ly. “Let me finish the story. The Reina saw you. We couldn’t. So we tried to
was stranded in the middle of the bluff you out. That didn’t work either.
desert. Arvaez and his crew were Then”—he looked at Odell—“Anglin
hundreds of miles from civilization, got himself shot.”
with a cargo worth millions and no John Henry said desperately, “You
way to get it out. know we didn’t kill him, Barselou. You
“They packed up what they could were right behind me.”
carry and hit the trail for Mexico. Only “I can’t remember, Conover.”
one man made it—Ferrelo, the navi¬ “If you think we killed Anglin, then
gator. He didn’t want to go back and turn us over to the police!”
look for the Queen, but during the next Barselou bared his teeth. “You don’t
sixty or seventy years, several parties get the point, Conover. I don’t care who
searched all over this section of the you are or what you’ve done. Anglin
country for the lost treasure ship. They had only one thing that was worth a
didn’t find her.” damn—the route I need to find the
“Maybe Ferrelo’s memory was bad. Queen.”
The important part is that the galleon John Henry was careful, “I’m not
stayed lost—until recently. That’s saying we have the route, Barselou. But
where you folks come in.” if we have—and hand it over to you—
what next? The last guy that had the
S IN ASKED unbelievingly, “You Queen information for you got killed
know where the Queen is now?” at your door.”
“The general location, yes. She’s Barselou put a mask of friendliness
 94 POP ©OG3 ©'JSEN
over his granite features. “My lifelong OHN Henry popped the pellet in his
policy has been to avoid bloodshed. mouth. Barselou didn’t stir. He said,
Give me the information, Conover, and “So you swallow it. We know your wife
as soon as I’ve verified the dope, you’re has the information memorized. What’s
as free as birds.” to keep me from letting Odell wring
John Henry looked at his wife tense¬ it out of her?”
ly upright in her chair. John Henry spoke carefully around
“I know you won’t go to the police,” the paper. “Don’t make me discuss it,
Barselou went on smoothly, “because Barselou. My wife has a freak memory.
if you did I’d have to tell Lieutenant Sure, she had the combination memo¬
Lay that there’s a handprint in blood rized. But once she repeats it, she can’t
by the door of Cottage fifteen, which remember it any more. And she’s re¬
you occupied last night. Gayner saw it peated it. Anglin’s dead, she doesn’t
this morning. We think it’s Anglin’s know the key anymore, and I never
blood. The police would be glad to test knew it. Your move.”
it for us.” “Nuts,” said Odell, and dropped’ his
Sin’s eyes were big and hopeful. hand in his pocket.
“Okay,” said John Henry. “Let me Barselou said, “Luckily for you,
talk to my wife alone for a minute or we’ve checked pretty closely on you two.
two and I’ll give you the route.” What you just said jibes with some¬
“You’ll have to do your talking in thing Gayner found out from that
this room,” Barselou demurred firmly. Loomis woman. All right. Suppose
John Henry rose and Sin followed Mrs. Conover does leave.”
him across the room. “Fifteen minutes after she’s gone, I’ll
“Johnny, what are we going to do?” give you the combination.”
Sin whispered. Barselou nodded. “You’re free to go,
“Can’t you remember that combina¬ Mrs. Conover.”
tion, honey?” Sin hugged John Henry’s arm. “I’m
“I guess so.” not going, honey!”
“Okay,” he muttered. “Start talking. “Sin, you’ve got to. Don’t argue about
Softly.” it. Nothing’s going to happen to me
Sin closed her eyes and began whis¬ with you loose. I’m ordering you to
pering the combination to him. John leave.”
Henry wrote it down and folded the “All right, darling,” she whispered.
paper into a small pellet. “Please be careful.”
“Now listen, redhead. I want you to He kissed her and mumbled, “Go to
do everything I say. Don’t argue. Just the Brawley police station. If I’m not
remember I love you.” in front of it by six in the morning, go
“Well—” inside and spill the works.” Aloud he
“Promise me.” John Henry squeezed commanded, “Now, scoot!”
her arm. There was silence in the room after
She smiled but her face was troubled. the door had closed behind her. Then
“I promise.” there was the sound of a car being
started. Tires whispered away on the
John Henry marched her back to the
two men. gravel. The desert quiet returned.
John Henry straddled a chair facing
“Got it?” Barselou queried. the other two men. Their eyes were
“Uh-huh.” John Henry held up the glued to his throat muscles.
pellet. “I’m going to give it to you, The three of them sat in the silence
Barselou—on one condition.” as the hands of John Henry’s wrist
“Conditions yet,” grunted Odell. watch crept from 3:15 to 3:30.
Barselou said softly, “Yes. A condi¬ Odell let the front legs of his chair
tion ?” come down on the floor.
“That my wife be allowed to leave “Fifteen minutes,” he announced
the ranch immediately.” sleepily.
“Oh, no, Johnny!” Sin cried. John Henry extracted the small wad
“Shut up, Sin. How about it, of paper from his mouth. Barselou
Barselou ?” stretched out an eager hand, but John
Barselou moved his eyes to Odell’s Henry backed toward the door, keeping
heavy coat pocket and said, “Why?” the big man between himself and Odell.
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 9?
He reached in back of him, found the think’s going to happen to us, Johnny ?”
handle, twisted it. she asked fearfully.
“Okay,” he said. “Catch!” “I don’t know, Sin,” he admitted
He tossed the pellet at Barselou. As gloomily. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t
the hairy hands grabbed, Conover leap¬ thought I could do better than the
ed into the hall, slamming the door be¬ police—”
hind him. “It’s not either all your fault,” Sin
There was a muffled crash. A moment said bravely, trying to control her trem¬
later, the door opened. bling lower lip. “If I hadn’t followed
“That does it,” said Vernon. Gayner to the restaurant—”
Barselou said jovially, “Good work, “I should have left Faye Jordan
Vernon. I think that takes care of that alone. Then we wouldn’t have come
Jones situation.” back here to the ranch.”
John Henry moaned and opened his
eyes. Gray light stabbed them and he HE“I THOUGHT about Faye Jordan.
don’t think she knows anything
shut them again. A slow fire was bak¬
ing one side of his face; the other was about this ship business,” he said sud¬
ice-cold. denly.
“Johnny, Johnny!” He could hear “Well, then who was it that put some¬
Sin’s voice near him. “Darling—please thing in your drink and searched you?”
wake up!” Sin demanded.
He was lying on his side with one “I thought it was Faye. But why
cheek pressed against dark concrete. He couldn’t it have been that bartender of
tried to sit up but discovered that his Barselou’s ?”
arms were bound in back of him. His “Why’d they let you go then?”
legs, too, had been tied together and a “Barselou wasn’t sure we were the
rope connected his wrist3 with his right people,” said John Henry. “But
ankles. when you got caught with Barselou's
maps, it made him sure. It just goes to
He wriggled to a sitting position,
prove that there’s somebody else mixed
groaning, to look at his wife. Sin had
up in this race for the Queen."
been similarly hobbled. Her red hair
“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?”
was mussed and her bright eyes had
“Sure. I don’t know where Robottom
held recent tears.
fits in but he thinks we’re the Joneses.
John Henry groped for memory. “Sin Barselou thinks we’re the Joneses.
—what are you doing here? Why aren’t Anglin was looking for them when he
you in Brawley? What happened?” stumbled into our cottage by mistake.
Sin repeated the gibing explanations There are two sides. Barselou on one
she had got from Vernon when he had and the Joneses on the other. Anglin
added John Henry to the basement was playing on both teams and didn’t
rison. Vernon claimed the Conovers score anywhere. So the next big ques¬
adn’t fooled him. When they had turn¬ tion is are the Joneses man and wife or
ed the Mercury toward Barselou’s a team of acrobats or what?” He was
ranch, it had just saved him trouble. staring blankly at the opposite wall.
He had followed them and listened out¬ “Look, Sin. Whoever Jones is has to be
side the casino door. When Sin came living at the Las Dunas, because Anglin
out, he had shoved a gun into her spine was supposed to meet him there. It has
and a cloth over her mouth. She had to be somebody that isn’t working for
been left, trussed, in the cellar and Ver¬ Barselou. Therefore, we can eliminate
non had driven Faye Jordan’s coupe Vernon and—”
down the road to persuade John Henry He stopped. A scratching noise came
that Sin had left. from one of the high windows in the
The story didn’t help John Henry’s cellar wall. The window was being
head. He was not cheered by the shoved from the outside. It stuck for
thought that he had not only set his a moment, then screeched inward and
own feet in the danger zone, but had upward. Crouched on the window sill,
dragged his wife along with him. peering in at them curiously, was a
Sin’s thoughts strummed the same gigantic black cat.
funereal note. The basement v/as too The cat leaped lithely to the concrete
much like a tomb. “What do you floor, stood up on its hind legs. Without
 100 POP GOES THE QUEEN
moving its jaws, it said, “For goodness part might turn the decision against
sakes, what are you doing here?” them.
The cat put a paw up to its nose, “That’s a good idea!” Faye said after
lifted its face off and the puzzled face a minute of consideration. “I don’t
of Faye Jordan took its place. know why I didn’t think of that.” She
“Faye!” John Henry almost shouted. ran forward and kneeled at Sin’s side.
“Quick! Get a knife, Faye!” John Henry started to breathe again,
“Where is that policeman and all the but softly.
cute people?” She peered at the dark Sin gave a little cry and brought her
corners. arms around in front or her, free of
“Don’t waste time with questions! the imprisoning ropes. Faye was un¬
Find a knife somewhere and cut us loosening the cords that bound her feet
loose, will you?” together. A few swift movements later,
Faye said to Sin, “He wasn’t very Sin pulled herself up. She swayed
nice to me this morning. He put some¬ dizzily.
thing in my drink!” “My fingers won’t feel,” she said.
“Oh, no!” groaned John Henry. “Just a second and I’ll let you loose.”
“You did too! And when I woke up
in a closet somebody had searched me. VIII
You should be ashamed of yourself,
Johnny!”
“I am, believe me,” John Henry said
F AYE Jordan was slinking around
the pillars, a cat in every respect except
sincerely. “But now, Faye, please for¬ that she prowled on two legs instead of
give me and cut us loose, will you?” four. She cocked the big ear to one side,
“How do you like my costume ?” Faye listening.
asked, surveying herself contentedly. “I think I hear footsteps,” she hissed.
The big black ears flapped grotesquely. “I’ll stalk them.” She glided up the
“It’s for the ball tonight, you know. concrete steps, opened the door, and was
Are you coming?” gone.
“For crying out loud!” he shouted. “Hurry up, baby,” John Henry said
“Turn us loose!” nervously. “Barselou might come down
Faye leaped back and Sin glanced here, if that screwball kicks up a
angrily at her husband. She spoke rumpus. . . . There!”
soothingly to the girl. John Henry rubbed his wrists to re¬
“How did you return to the ranch, store circulation. Then he worked his
Faye?” feet free.
“Taxi,” said Faye. “I was trying on “We’re all right now, honey! Keep
my costume and I decided to go for a your chin up.”
drive to see what an ocelot felt like.” He urged her toward the window in
Her face got unpleasant. “Then my the opposite wall. The grime-encrusted
car was stolen. Right off the hotel park¬ panes still swung half-open where Faye
ing lot, too. I thought it might be here, Jordan had left them.
so I took a taxi and it’s just where I By piling cardboard boxes against
thought it would be!” Faye’s short the wall, they achieved a perilous plat¬
upper lip curled in triumph. She got up. form that threatened to collapse if they
“Where did you say those stairs went?” breathed wrong. John Henry scaled it
“Faye, wait! Where are you going?” first, wriggling painfully through the
“I’m going to find who stole my car— window, then reached a hand down to
and then I’m going to kill him.” Sin and pulled her through the opening.
John Henry leaned an aching temple North of the orchard, the barbed-wire
against the cement wall. Sin hunched fence was only about fifty yards away.
forward and her voice was calm only Beyond that, sagebrush and scrub oak
by desperate effort. “That’s exactly promised covering. They ran like mad
what you should do, Faye. But I’ve got for the fence.
a good idea. Why don’t you untie us Not far ahead of them twinkled the
and then we can look for the thief who lights of Azure, set in an incandescent
stole your car?” halo against early evening.
John Henry held his breath while “Whereabouts you want to go this
the bright-eyed girl thought it over, time?” the burly driver of the speeding
afraid that a single movement on his truck asked wearily.
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 191
“Any place there’s a phone,” John “They think we did it!” John Henry
Henry said. He wished they hadn’t gasped in amazement. “Can you im¬
flagged the same truck that had given agine that?”
him a lift earlier in the day. “But what are we going to do?”
“Drive-in up here has one. I’m going This was a tight spot. They were
to pull in here for some chow, anyway.” present at, perhaps implicated in the
They bore down rapidly on a big first murder. Their alibi for the second
neon sign that flashed The Tomahawk. murder was Barselou. And Barselou
The driver pulled the huge truck onto was certainly no friend of the Conovers.
the asphalt. John Henry jumped down
from the high cab and held up an assist¬ H UNGER, weariness and confusion
had brought Sin close to tears.
ing hand to Sin.
“Thanks for the lift,” John Henry John Henry took her chin gently be¬
called up. tween thumb and forefinger.
“Anytime,” muttered the driver. “Calm down, baby. We’re still going
to shake loose from this.”
“Gosh, am I glad to see people again,” “How? Johnny, they think we mur¬
Sin burbled happily. “Just plain old dered those two men.”
unarmed people!” “But we know we didn’t. Don’t at¬
The phone booth was inside. A sol¬ tract attention.” John Henry noted ner¬
itary customer was' reading a news¬ vously that the truck driver had j'oined
paper near the phone booth and munch¬ them in the glass room.
ing absent-mindedly on a hamburger. Sin raised her head. “But we’re all
As the Conovers came in, he gulped by ourselves, Johnny!”
down the last bite, and squeezed by John Henry slapped the counter.
them. “We’re not either all alone, not by a
John Henry pulled the folding door dam sight! The quiz contest. Your
open, and said, “I guess you just ask for fairy godfather. He’s supposed to take
the police.” care of us.”
Sin sat down at the counter, ordered “Oh, but what can Mr. Trim do?”
two hamburgers, and scooped up the “I don’t know, baby. That’s his de¬
newspaper the departed customer had partment.” John Henry banged the
been reading. booth door to and began to call fever¬
John Henry folded the door shut be¬ ishly for the operator. . . .
hind him and dropped the coin into “This is about the right spot,” John
the slot. There was a sudden banging Henry said. The Tomahawk neon sign
on the glass. Sin was hammering flashed in back of them up the highway,
against the pane and pointing to the “I said about a hundred yards past
newspaper. the drive-in.”
John Henry pushed open the door, “Why couldn’t we’ve waited for Mr.
asking irritably, “What’s wrong, Sin?” Trim back there?” Sin complained
“You didn’t get the police, did you?” through the last mouthful of her ham¬
Her face was white and strained. burger. Eating while keeping up with
“Not yet. Why?” the fast pace her husband set had used
“Johnny—look at that!” up most of her breath.
Her pointing finger trembled over the “That driver was pretty suspicious,”
front page of the newspaper. said John Henry. “The minute he read
that story he’d have hollered for the
AZURE HOTEL MAN BRUTALLY SLAIN cops.”
SECOND WEEK-END TRAGEDY HERE “Are you sure it’s safe here?” Sin
The tall black type blurred. John asked anxiously.
Henry began to read. His lips moved John Henry thumbed toward a clus¬
and now and then a phase escaped. ter of sagebrush. “Sure. We can hide
“Stabbed to death . . . James V. Gayner back there till Trim gets here. I hope
... in one of the guest cottages . . . he has some ideas. He sounded pretty
Statewide alarm . . . Arrest of Mr. and excited.”
Mrs. John Henry Conover, occupants “What was he so excited about? He
of guest cottage . . . Automatic pencil, doesn’t have a close personal interest
believed to be property of Conovers,
found by body. . . “Sin,” said John Henry after a pause,
 102 POP GOES THE QUEEN
“We’re pretty sure this Jones person “I guess so,” Sin quavered.
killed Anglin last night, aren’t we?” Trim turned out the car lights and
“Yes,” Sin faltered. shut off the engine. John Henry could
“And it must have been Jones who hear a car door open and close, then
killed Gayner.” footsteps.
“I suppose. Gayner would have no “Where’s Mr. Conover?” Trim asked.
way of knowing we’d give the combina¬ “He’s—he’ll be back in a minute,”
tion to Barselou. So I guess he went on Sin stammered. “Let’s get off the road.
looking for it. And found it, too, since Behind these bushes—over here.”
the Eversharp was by his body. And John Henry braced himself for the
Jones surprised him and stabbed him spring. Through the leaves, he could
and got it instead.” see their heads. Trim seemed to be
“Well, why not?” demanded John wearing a three-cornered hat.
Henry. They were two yards away now. One
“But not Mr. Trim. He’s such a nice yard.
fellow. And just this morning he saved John Henry leaped like a tiger for
me from those two—” Mr. Trim’s throat.
“By gosh, it could all be part of an
act.” John Henry’s voice took on ex¬
citement. “Sin, who was it popped up
THE SMALL man let out a yelp of
terror and jumped backward. John
right after Anglin stumbled into our Henry’s hands missed the scrawny
cottage?” throat and fastened on a wide leather
“Well, he did know pretty much what belt. The two men crashed heavily.
went on with Barselou.” Sin was shouting:
“And he was the one who said it was “He’s got a gun, Johnny! He’s got
all right to move our clothes.” a gun!”
“And, Johnny, if Mr. Trim thought Trim wriggled away and got up. John
we had the combination, of course he’d Henry suddenly realized the significance
want to rescue me from Vernon and of the cocked hat. Mr. Trim was all
Gayner!” ready to go to the costume ball. He
“Honey,” cried John Henry, “I think was dressed like a pirate, complete with
we’re on the right track.” skull and crossbones cockade on his
“Johnny he’s coming out here now. hat. The long pistol was wood.
He’s got the combination and he’s com¬ Trim brought the wooden gun up as
ing to kill us!” if to use it as a club. John Henry’s
“Good grief! I never thought of hand hit his arm. The pistol sailed to
that.” John Henry squatted behind the clank on the running board of the car.
mesquite and beat one fist on his knee. John Henry launched his stocky body
“Sin. Look. You wait at the edge of into a flying tackle. The two men col¬
the road for Trim to drive up. As soon lapsed and slid along, face down in the
as he’s out of the car, I’ll jump him.” sandy earth.
“But what if we’re wrong about Sin ran up. “Johnny, Johnny!” she
him?” was sobbing.
“Then we apologize.” John Henry John Henry got up, panting. Trim
stood up and stretched. “Baby, that’s still lay crumpled on the ground.
a chance we have to take. It’s obvious “Is he—” Sin whispered.
Jones got the combination. And if “Nope. Just knocked out.” John
Trim is Jones, he’s not letting that slip Henry scooped up the limp figure in
of paper get out of his hands. He’ll the pirate’s costume. “Come on.”
have it on him. So we’ll search him.” He strode back to the shelter of the
A sedan was coming slowly down mesquite. Sin tagged along.
the road from the direction of the “I’ll pass out his things, Sin. You
Tomahawk. go through them and look for the com¬
“Now don’t be scared, Sin. Just do bination. Feel the linings especially.”
what I say and we’ll be okay.” He began to go through the little
John Henry shoved her hastily man’s costume. He passed out the
through the mesquite toward the road. cocked hat for Sin’s examination. Then,
The automobile was slowing down. over the bushes, he tossed the long
“Is that you, Mrs. Conover?” Trim’s dark-blue coat and the bright-red knee-
high-pitched voice called. breeches.
 BOB WADE AND BiLL MILLER 103
On his side of the leafy barrier, John his face and considered them through
Henry searched the white ruffled shirt, narrowed eyes.
the boots, shorts and undershirt. He said, unsmiling, “Well, you stum¬
The combination was not there. bled into everything else. Just who the
“Find anything?” he called to Sin. devil did you think I was?”
“Not a thing,” she said. Sin spoke up. “We thought you were
“Maybe he wasn’t hiding it. Try his this Jones that Barselou—-
wallet.” “Start from the beginning,” Trim
“What wallet ?” said wearily and sat down on the run¬
“In his pants.” ning board.
“There wasn’t any.”
“Maybe it fell out when I tossed them
over.”
S IN explained the tenuous reasoning
that had led them to believe that
Sin poked around in the underbrush. Trim was the mysterious Jones who was
“I found it.” leagued against Barselou in the race
“Good,” muttered John Henry. for the galleon. It all sounded pretty
Sin let out a horrified cry. John thin now.
Henry burst through the bushes. Sin “We thought we’d be smart and cap¬
was standing by the car. She had turned ture you first,” Sin concluded.
on the parking lights. In her hands Trim showed no surprise at the men¬
she held a black-leather wallet and she tion of the Queen or anything else. He
stared at it with stunned eyes. just sat there, his brown eyes as hard
“What is it, Sin?” as marbles.
“Johnny, look at this!” “We’re awfully sorry,” Sin added
Sin handed him the wallet. He held weakly. “Does your head hurt much?”
it up to the light. Something gleamed, “Never mind that,” he said curtly.
something small and golden. It was a “I’ve had worse days. Whoever killed
badge, and the lettering on it said Gayner made off with the route to the
“federal bureau of investigation. ..”. galleon.”
“Golmighty,” said Mr. Trim. “And that means two people know
Sin kept stroking his bald head. His how to get there now.” John Henry
inert form had been clumsily redressed elaborated eagerly, telling Trim how
except for pirate hat and coat, and she they had bargained with Barselou, lost,
was holding the bruised head in her and escaped from the cellar with Faye
lap. Jordan’s help. “Gayner’s murderer is
John Henry sat morosely on the run¬ headed for the Reina right now, the
ning board of the gray sedan. A vision same as Barselou.”
occupied his mind, a vision of John Trim stood up. He donned the* pirate
Henry Conover gripping the bars of a hat at a rakish angle and jammed the
cell. He had assaulted and battered a wooden pistol back into his belt. Then
guardian of the law and the law pro¬ he faced the Conovers.
vided for actions like his. “We’ll call it quits,” he said. “You
The pseudo-tooth-paste representa¬ probably thought you were doing the
tive moaned again, stirred. John Henry best thing. Besides, as the Bry-Ter
leaned forward. Trim’s brown eyes Tooth-paste man, I haven’t been any
opened and cleared. great help to your vacation.”
Sin asked, “There’s really supposed
“It’s all right, Mr. Trim,” Sin com¬
to be a tooth-paste man here?”
forted him.
Trim grimaced. “Yes. I’m taking
“Let me up, dammit!” he croaked his place for a while, so I’d have a
and spat out a mouthful of sand. reason for wandering around town.”
“Look,” said John Henry, “I’ll come “You’re after Barselou?” John Henry
along quietly.” burst out.
This was not the greeting Trim had Trim stared down at him.
expected. He got to his feet, and said, “I’ll tell you what I can, but you two
“Huh ?” warily. have to be frank with me. In answer
“Of course, it’s out of the question to to your question: only incidentally.
apologize. But I’m sorry. Things just There’s some tie-up there with Sagmon
got moving too fast for us.” Robottom and—”
Mr. Trim wiped fine white dust from “What’s he done?” cried Sin.
 104 POP GOES THE QUEEN
“Nothing yet—that we can prove. “Couldn’t we come with you?”
He just keeps popping up in key posi¬ John Henry looked up sharply.
tions. A professional organization one “What did you say, Sin?”
place—a crackpot dispussion group
somewhere else. The L. A. office thinks
there’s something off-key about him.
T RIM frowned at the girl. “Hardly.
You’d just be in the way, Mrs. Con¬
Subversive. Undercover.” over.”
“Gosh,” said Sin. “If I’d known that, Sin grabbed the little man’s hands.
I’d have really been scared this morn¬ “But, Mr. Trim, wouldn’t you like to fol¬
ing.” low Barselou and Jones and Robottom
Trim pursed his lips. “Nothing had or whoever it is to the Queen
come of my work when I ran across this “What are you talking about, Sin?”
lost treasure business. Okay—that’s John Henry interrupted.
not my jurisdiction. The two murders Trim mused, “I might find out pret¬
aren’t my jurisdiction, either. If Bar- ty definitely about the subversion an¬
selou finds the Queen, the money’s his. gle.” He laughed harshly. “But, un¬
But the government is interested if he’s fortunately, Mrs. Conover—I don’t
going to back Robottom in some sub¬ know the way. All I can do is wait at
versive activity with that money.” the ranch for one or both of them to
John Henry began to pace back and come back.”
forth. “Then Robottom could be “That’s it exactly,” said Sin, jump¬
Jones ?” ing up and down with excitement. “We
“Oh, he could be,” admitted Trim. know where to start—Walking Skull.
“But the two dead bodies belong to We heard Barselou say so! And we’ve
Lieutenant Lay—not me. I’m here to got a third copy of the combination—
cinch a subversion case. All I know me.” Sin pointed a proud forefinger at
about your Jones or Joneses is that a herself.
Barselou employee—Anglin—sent a John Henry was disgusted. “Don’t
wire to them yesterday morning. I was be silly. You’ve said it once. Now it’s
too late to find out who picked it up gone. Why should that list of num¬
at the San Diego end.” bers stick with you?”
“But how about us?” Sin wanted to “Because,” Sin explained, “they don’t
know. make sense! Just to prove it, here’s
“Oh, San Diego cleared you this the first two directions. R dash one.
morning.” L dash three.” Her words tumbled
“I know we’re not spies, too!” cried over one another. “I know I can re¬
John Henry. “Just being murderers member it, Johnny. It doesn’t have
has got us worried!” any order and I can remember it per¬
“Yes, Lieutenant Lay may be a little fectly. I knew it at the ranch, but I
hard to deal with, being up the tree he didn’t want to tell you then for fear
is. However, once the killer is found, you’d want to go after the Queen by
you should have no further trouble.” yourself. But now we’ve got help. And
“That may take months,” John Henry Johnny, honest—I can’t get the dam
hurled a stone viciously across the thing out of my head!”
highway. “It’d be too dangerous for you, Sin.”
“I’ll do what I can with Lay tomor¬ She put her arms around him. “I
row morning. I’m sorry I won’t be don’t want to go to jail and I don’t
able to run you back to the hotel, but want you to, either. This way we won’t
I better get a move on.” Trim started have to, honey. Because Jones will be
to slide under the steering wheel. at the Queen."
Sin looked at the agent quizzically. John Henry felt the tempting excite¬
“What are you going to do now, Mr. ment begin to bubble inside him again.
Trim? Or is it a secret?” “I wouldn’t mind running into the guy
“Well—” Trim squinted at the moon- responsible for all this, at that.”
painted mesquite. “I’m going to wait Triumphantly, Sin turned to the
for Barselou at his ranch. I might as wizened agent in the sedan.
well warn him about registry and tax “How about it, Mr. Trim? What do
and some other details. Then it’ll be you say?”
his move if he wants to play with Ro¬ Trim opened the glove compartment
bottom.” and took out a heavy service automatic,
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 105
checked the magazine. He shoved the vate cop, huh? Let’s have the whole
gun at John Henry, butt foremost. story.”
He said, “Stick close to your wife “It’s nothing you haven’t heard be¬
then, and come along. This may be the fore. Errant-husband stuff.”
bag of the year or it may be a wild- “Who’s the victim?”
goose chase. I guarantee it won’t be “Sagmon Robottom. Myra’s not the
any picnic.” al to take that sort of thing lying

IX “Jealous?”
“Sagmon’s quite a hand with the
A. TAN-SHIRTED cop pounded loud¬ girls. Myra’s tired of it. Last week
ly on the door to Cottage fourteen. Sagmon dashed down here without ex¬
Then he opened the door and motioned plaining and Myra’s sure there’s an¬
Thelma Loomis into the room ahead of other woman involved. If there’s to be
himself and his companion. a divorce it’s to be Myra who gets it.
Every light in the cottage had been So here I am.”
turned on and the air was hazy with “What have you got?”
cigarette smoke. The desk, the waste¬ “Nothing that’ll stand up in court—
basket and the area around the door¬ yet. But there’s a gal here at the
knobs had been dusted with a gray hotel, name of Faye Jordan, that
powder. Near the desk, the carpet bore Glamour Boy thinks is hot stuff. She’s
the dark oval of dried blood. playing him on a line right now.”
“Wait here,” the policeman said, and “Women!” said Lieutenant Lay
went into the bedroom. scathingly.
Miss Loomis was lighting a cigarette “I was looking for Robottom when
with a steady hand when Lieutenant your men put the arm on me. It’s my
Lay came in from the bedroom. In his guess that he’s off somewhere with the
horse face were tired lines. He needed Jordan dame. Now that I’ve shot square
a shave. with you, Lieutenant, how about letting
“Thelma Loomis?” he asked heavily. me go back to work?”
She nodded. Lay motioned at a chair Lay smiled bitterly. “You’re about
and sank into the one opposite. His as square as a tennis ball—all you
eyes studied her keenly. private cops. But go ahead, get back
to your keyhole. And since you’re look¬
“That your real name?” Lay asked
ing for Robottom—” He paused tan-
suddenly.
talizingly. “He grabbed a taxi this
“It’s my real name.” evening and said something about going
Lay nodded. He pulled a brown imi¬ out to the Bar C Ranch.”
tation-leather notebook from his inside
coat pocket and flipped a couple of
pages. TRIM turned off the car lights. Then
they rolled slowly toward the Bar
“You work for Fan Fare. Campbell
C Ranch. The low ranchhouse showed
Publications.
no lights.
“That’s right.” “Looks like Faye’s still here,” Sin
Lay shook his head. “That’s wrong. said, from the back seat. The Mercury
We checked with Campbell Publica¬ stood before the house.
tions. Want to see the wire we got Trim coaxed the sedan to a quiet halt.
back?” “Still want to go through with it?”
Thelma Loomis grinned. “Never he inquired.
mind.” “Sure,” Sin said.
“Okay, then. Suppose you tell me They got out. Trim led the way to
who and what you really are, Miss the stable.
Loomis.” “Now,” he began, “if we can—”
She took another slow drag on the Something white fluttered in the gap
cigarette. “If you want to know what between the sliding doors of the stable.
I really am, check the Castle-Scudder “Everybody just stand where they
Detective Agency in L. A. They’ll tell are,” Odell said, “and don’t make any
you. So should this.” sudden moves.”
He looked at the plastic-sealed card He came plodding from the dark slot,
in her wallet and handed it back. “Pri¬ the barrel of his .32 shiny over his fist.
106 POP GOES THE QUEEN
“Imagine,” Odell said pleasantly. moved out into the moonlit yard, the
“Mr. and Mrs. Conover, back again. erect little pirate leading. The crunch
“Who’s this?” He swung the revolver of hoofs on the sandy ground was the
toward the little man. only sound. . . .
“My name is Trim.” “This is Walking Skull,” said Trim.
“Where’s Barselou?” John Henry “And that’s the start of the Badlands."
asked. “There’s some questions—” He gestured into the night. Walking
“Forget it. But let me tell you, Jun¬ Skull was a rough bowl-shaped depres¬
ior, I’m mighty happy you got back be¬ sion in the desert, littered with huge
fore he did.” boulders and dotted with a few stunted
Odell gestured with the gun. “Okay, palms. Trim explained that a weathered
turn around and put your hands on the skeleton had been found leaning against
back of your head. Now start walk¬ one of the rocks years before, looking
ing.” as if it were still trying to take the few
The three began to walk slowly back steps that separated it from the water-
across the moonlit yard. Nearly to the hole. The skull had never been dis¬
ranchhouse, Sin couldn’t hear any foot¬ covered.
steps behind them. She wondered if “The legend is that the skull still
she dared peek around. She lowered roams these parts at night searching
her hands cautiously, braced for a pos¬ for water.”
sible blow. To the south and to the west, the
Nothing happened. Emboldened, she smooth desert had been carved into a
looked back. Then she whirled, grab¬ twisted labyrinth of narrow, deep can¬
bing at the two men. yons, writhing and losing themselves
“Look!” she cried. “There’s no one in the night shadows. A single canyon
following us!” cracked the side of the rough bowl on
“Where’d he go?” asked John Henry, the southwestern edge.
astonished. “I can see why you’d need a combina¬
“Let’s get out of here before he comes tion to find your shadow in a place like
back!” this,” John Henry observed.
Trim’s arm clutched her, held her “That one canyon that cuts into
back. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Conover. Walking Skull—that must be the start¬
He’s not coming back.” ing point. From then on it’s up to your
His finger pointed. Just outside the wife.”
stable’s square shadow was a mound “How about it, Sin? What’s the first
of dark and white. Something like a move?”
furled pennant stuck up from the furled “R dash one,” she announced tri¬
figure. umphantly.
John Henry ran toward it. Trim and Trim nudged his horse forward and
Sin followed. Trim’s humpty-dumpty the Conovers followed. “We turn right
face was grave in the moonlight. at the first cross-canyon. You still
“Dead, he said quietly. agree?” Trim asked.
“But how did it happen—no noise—” The Conovers agreed. The dark jag-
Sin gulped. ed walls rose higher and higher on
“He was hit in the neck by an arrow. oth sides. They rode down an incline
Death must have been almost instan¬ until the sky was a crooked slit of pale
taneous.” blue overhead, then the canyon floor
“Where—who could have shot the leveled somewhat.
arrow?” Sin asked. “Here we are,” Trim announced. “I’m
“There’s an archery range around at turning right.”
the other side of the house,” John Hen¬ The little man reined into the first
ry said. side canyon. The floor was sand and
“That’s where.it came from, then,” smooth stones. At the sides leaned
Trim ruminated. “Want to take a great sheets of shale that had evidently
look?” crashed down from above.
“Let’s get away from here,” Sin “Can you see Barselou’s tracks?”
quavered. Sin called.
The three hurried back to the stables. “I can’t see much of anything,” Trim
Horses were quickly saddled. They replied cheerfully. “But three horses
swung silently onto their mounts and kick things around more than one.
What’s the next turn, Mrs. Conover?”
“Left three. . .
g
BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER
ip in the high stone corridor. The
onovers trailed after him.
107

Trim tilted his pug nose upward,

T HELMA LOOMIS turned her spot¬ sniffing. Sin whispered, “What is it?”
light upon the timber archway and “We’re getting close,” Trim muttered.
read the twig letters. “I caught a whiff of smoke just then.
Then she clicked off the spot and Campfire.”
urged the car up the curved driveway. “Barselou?”
The Bar C Ranch house was dark, a “Maybe. Or Mr. Jones.” The FBI
somber bulk in silver moonlight. She man straightened in his saddle. “What’s
braked the automobile in front of the the next one, Mrs. Conover?”
door. On the parking lot were two The number seemed to elude her.
cars—a convertible coupe and a gray “Left—left—two,” she said doubtfully.
sedan. They passed the first gray mouth of
From her big purse she dug out a a canyon on the left. Sin caught the
snub-nosed revolver. Expertly, she scent of burning wood. Despite the
flipped the cylinder out and examined danger, the familiar fragrance abated
the shiny brass shells. Satisfied, she her nervousness. There was other hu¬
eased out of the car. man life in all this desolation.
Ignoring the brass knocker, she She frowned suddenly. They had
punched the button beside the door and passed the second left-hand canyon.
stood listening to the distant loneliness Sin called after the little pirate softly.
of chimes. When the last tone had “You’ve made a mistake. We passed
died, she tried the latch. The heavy the second canyon just then.”
door swung away from her on oiled “Oh, that,” deprecated Trim. “You
hinges. Her flashlight cut a round hole were the one who made the mistake.
into the blackness beyond. Lightly, she Your memory’s phenomenal, Mrs. Con¬
stepped after it and closed the door be¬ over. But that last direction should
hind her. . . . be ‘left three,’ not ‘left two.’ ”
John Henry squinted at the luminous He opened his fist. Lying in the palm
dial of his wrist watch. It was nearly was a strip of oiled paper, a narrow
four hours since they’d left the Bar C curling strip of directions which began,
Ranch. The moon was directly over¬ R-l, L-3, R-2_
head now, melting the shadows at the Sin’s lips moved but no sound came
bottom of the tortuous canyons. out. John Henry’s mouth hung open
Trim halted his horse and said, “No loosely.
talking, please. If Barselou hears us—” Trim plucked the wooden pistol from
“You do think we must be nearly his belt. He let John Henry stare at the
there, don’t you, Mr. Trim?” Sin asked cork on a string that was stuck in the
anxiously. muzzle.
The Federal agent was indefatigable. “Please be sensible, both of you. The
He sat erect and alert in the saddle, cork is laughable but it comes out—
apparently as fresh as when they had followed by a very real bullet.”
ridden away from the ranchhouse. His John Henry croaked, “Mr. Jones, I
narrow shoulders shrugged under the presume?”
blue buccaneer coat.
“I hope you can answer that better
than I can, Mrs. Conover. How many
N OT a soul was in the house. Thelma
Loomis was ready to stake her
more numbers are there?” professional reputation on that.
Sin pushed her eyes shut. She felt But somewhere there had to be peo¬
wrung dry. “I don’t know,” she con¬ ple. The evidence of the two cars point¬
fessed finally. “Two or three, I guess. ed that way. Of course, Lieutenant
They just seem to come one at a time.” Lay might have been wrong about Ro-
Trim grinned encouragement. “Didn’t bottom. Or he was the kind of guy
mean to hound you. I keep worrying who’d think he was funny.
over what the office would say if they She opened the back door, let herself
could see me now. What’s next?” out into a little patio and headed for
“Right one,” Sin replied automati¬ the higher boxlike building a hundred
cally. yards away. Suddenly, she stopped
Trim began to move toward the next short, her hand fumbling for the re-
108 POP GOES THE QUEEN
volver. Something dark huddled on stable. Thelma Loomis followed her
the ground, something that might have into the shadows, gun in hand.
been a man. A darker blob crouched Faye was swinging gaily on the
beside it. wooden gate to one of the stalls. Miss
“Good God!” she ejaculated. The Loomis lanced the gloom with her
second shadow had moved. Thelma flashlight. On the straw of the stall
Loomis was staring at a huge cat, its lay a man with arms and legs limply
ears erect, its eyes gleaming brightly extended. The dark hawk face was re¬
at her. She tried to level the muzzle laxed. The man’s head was lop-sided
of her .32 at the giant animal. with swelling under one half of the
“You nearly surprised me,” the cat mussed silver hair. By Sagmon Ro-
purred. “Not quite. Nearly.” bottom’s ear rested a stirrup iron.
Miss Loomis forced her legs to carry “What happened here?” the blonde
her up to the cat. asked gently. Robottom’s chest rose
“Nice kitty,” she said unsteadily. and sank regularly and an eyelid
The cat stood up and stretched. twitched.
Moonlight poured over the face of “He didn’t believe I was a cat.”
Faye Jordan and the blonde woman Faye’s mouth contracted viciously. “I
began to understand the cat disguise. think he said I mustn’t use my claws.
She had forgotten that she, too, was in I don’t like people who order me
costume, the blue uniform of a police- around.”
“Would you like to go for a ride?”
“You’re a policeman,” Faye Jordan Thelma Loomis suggested soothingly.
remarked. “Just the three of us. I know somebody
“That’s right.” Thelma Loomis felt you’d like to talk to, Faye. A man.”
her smile slackening as she scanned the
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Faye said
unmoving shadow, with professional in¬
excitedly. “Hike to talk to men!”
terest. “You certainly surprised me.
Both of you.”
“It’s pretty fur, don’t you think?” M R. TRIM howled with laughter. But
the sound was thin, not carrying
Faye said and preened her costume con¬
tentedly. “It zips down the back so I far. Though his merriment was deep,
can get out. But I don’t want to get neither his eyes nor his disguised pistol
out. I want to wear it all the time.” wavered from the Conovers.
The other woman kneeled on the san¬ “Shock can certainly produce a va¬
dy ground and looked at the man hud¬ riety of comical expressions,” Trim said
dled there. He was short and plump with a final chuckle. “And yours rank
and dead. From the back of his neck with the finest in my collection. First,
the feather-tipped shaft of a long arrow however—” his voice turned sharper
protruded. He had been dead for some “—gently toss that forty-five back to
time, she decided. me, Conover. Not that I trusted you
“Who’s this?” he asked. with a loaded gun—but you might be
“Oh, I don’t know,” Faye said. “I tempted to club me with it."
don’t think we’ve ever met.” Carefully, John Henry lobbed the
“Who killed him?” automatic to the other man. Trim
“I did,” the girl said carelessly. pounded his wooden pistol down sharp¬
Thelma Loomis got up slowly, the re¬ ly on the saddle-horn. The painted shell
volver ready. “I have claws. Not shattered. He peeled the broken pieces
everyone has claws as sharp as mine.” from around a short black revolver.
The girl crooked her mittened hands “No need for masquerade any longer,
and scratched languorously in the air. is there?” he commented.
The blonde inspected the too-bright Sin finally found a tremulous voice.
eyes, the vacuous pretty face. “Then you’re not a G-man* at all?”
“Why?” she asked softly. Trim shook his head. “Let’s say that
Faye Jordan looked reproachful. “I I’m really—” he touched the cocked
hope you’re not going to ask all those hat with a flourish of his weapon “—a
questions, too.” pirate. That’s closer to the truth than
“Who else asked you questions?” my other personalities.”
The girl assumed a mysterious ex¬ “Just one thing I want to know,”
pression and prowled away toward the said John Henry. “Then I’ll shut up.
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 109
Where did you have that combination? “No rush,” was Trim’s amiable re¬
We searched you.” ply. “I prefer to board the Queen by
Trim chuckled. “My dentures are daylight. Barselou is an excellent
false. No one thinks of that. Whoever shot.” His proud voice said, “Faye’s
heard of owning a set of false teeth taking you to the Bar C was impromptu,
that look worse than real ones ? Every¬ Conover—but it shows her flair. That
body assumes that they must be natur¬ way she was able to separate you from
al—but they’re false.” He peered to your wife and go through the only
see the Conovers’ chagrin. “Enjoy the clothes of yours she hadn’t inspected.”
joke,” he commanded. “Others among “And I let you rescue me from Ver¬
my foes have been fooled and appre¬ non and Gayner!” cried Sin in disgust.
ciated it.” “Merely protecting my investment,”
“Mr. Trim,” said John Henry earnest¬ Trim assured her smoothly.
ly. “We are not your foes. From the “Just how,” asked John Henry, “did
beginning, we’ve only—” you know Anglin had wandered into
“No,” said Sin. our cottage in the first place?”
“Nonsense. You’ve been a complica¬ “Careless Anglin,” clucked the man.
tion since Saturday night. It was an “Faye was waiting for him in the cot¬
accident that Barselou learned we were tage next to yours. When she saw you
in that game at all. But then to have turn on all your cottage lights, she
you gullible innocents mistaken for us crept over and—behold!—Anglin had
—I call that highly amusing.” left his signature by your front door.
“We? Us?” questioned John Henry. A handprint in blood. She immediately
“My daughter Faye and I,” replied phoned me. I was chatting with that
Trim blandly. “My name is Jordan— Loomis woman who told me about your
if names mean anything.” quiz contest. My mind leaped instan¬
“Oh!” gasped Sin. “Then she—then taneously to the obvious—I would gain
entree to your company by being the
“Haven’t you noticed the family re¬ Bry-Ter Tooth-Paste man.”
semblance—the Jordan nose? It’s “You must be insane!” Sin whispered.
turned up at the world—pushed into The little figure under the pirate hat
that position by generations of well- stiffened.
applied thumbs. Yes, it was Faye who “No,” said Mr. Trim softly. “Merely
insisted the cotages be switched so she irreverent.” In a gayer voice he said,
could go through your belongings for “Faye went to the Bar C Ranch tonight
this combination while they were being to discover the starting point for the
moved. Gayner didn’t suspect a thing route I gained from Gayner. It was
—he was that eager to search your stuff no error—her releasing you two. But
himself. But he searched the clothes what I commend her for is the way she
after Faye had finished and it was he waited, guessing I would come along
who mussed them.” eventually and need her.”
Sin trembled with rage. “You killed “No!” said Sin. “She couldn’t
him!” have—”
“Relax, Honey,” said John Henry “Yes. She removed Odell at the
uneasily. proper moment. Odell was stabbed with
“Yes,” chortled their captor, “you the arrow—not shot with it.” He peered
might frighten Barselou. Though he’s up at the sky. It was lightening. “For¬
probably so busy chopping into chests ward march!” he commanded cheerful¬
of pearls and emeralds that he couldn’t ly. ‘ iu, Conover, will go first—and I
hear Judgment Day. I hope he’s saving will l ng up the rear. I count on you
me the heavy work.” to realize that your first foolish move
will send a bullet through your wife’s
X spine.”
They clip-clopped around the last
tJ OHN HENRY sensed that his wife corner. A few yards away, a brush fire
was shivering, although it was not chilly had been built in the lee of a great
between the protective canyon walls. boulder. Two horses stood near the
He edged his horse closer to hers. rock, hobbled. The roan whinnied soft¬
“Let’s move on,” he said, his voice ly in greeting.
tired. “Let’s get it all over with.” Trim held his revolver poised, eyes
110 POP GOES HE QUEEN
snapping from cliff to cliff. He spurred “No,” said Sin earnestly. “We’re
forward as they came abreast of the here by accident. Don’t you under¬
mammoth boulder. His thin-lipped stand? He’s Jones.”
smile was triumphant. “Or Trim. Or Jordan,” said the lit¬
A man lay beside the fire, his big tle man. “Yes, don’t give these two
body swathed in a blanket. credit for my adventuring. The Con¬
“There is Mr. Barselou,” Trim said. overs were brought because they knew
“Signed, sealed and delivered.” He of Walking Skull and for company
gestured up the canyon. “And there is through the night. And principally”
the Queen. Another Flying Dutchman.” —his voice gained metallic edges—“be¬
The jigsaw line of sky seemed to cause I suppose a lot of their knowledge
brighten and the outline of a wooden is dangerous.”
hull slowly took form against the rosy “Jones,” said Barselou dully.
glow. The Reina had not come to rest “A mailing address only.” Trim
on the canyon bottom. Rather, the chuckled. “There’s no harm in telling
galleon was wedged between the rock you that my real name is Jordan,
jaws of the chasm, almost two hundred widower, age fifty-five, one daughter,
feet above their heads. The Queen was and that Anglin’s blunder was to dis¬
earthbound, as in some gigantic dry regard my instructions to communicate
dock. by mail when all was ready. He was
Awestruck, Sin murmured, “Poor in such a big hurry that he tele¬
lonely thing.” graphed.”
The sails and masts and most of the Barselou lifted his head. “So you
high stern had rotted away, exposing guessed I saw the wire.”
three layers of deck. Near Barselou’s “I couldn’t ignore the chance, con¬
camp, was a pile of rubble that had sidering the hold you had in Azure. I
fallen over the years. Here trailed a generally include a female companion
rustly length of chain and there jutted in my exploits—they kick up such a
a crumbling plank. blinding dust. And in this case it was
The sleeping form on the ground a sort of celebration. My daughter
stirred, moaned, and raised itself on its Faye had just been released from—”
elbows. Trim halted abruptly. “She was held
“Good morning, Mr. Barselou!” Trim illegally. Her only illness was over¬
greeted. originality !
Barselou scrambled to his feet, still “Forget that carbine!” he snapped,
half-fettered by the heavy blanket. His twisting back toward Barselou. Then
eyes widened, then narrowed at the he continued pleasantly, “So we had to
three mounted figures above him in the separate for the time being, as you
dawn. One hairy hand twitched toward were expecting a pair of Joneses. When
the carbine on the ground and Trim Anglin wired instead of writing, Faye
said, “No.” Barselou halted, warily was forced to occupy the cottage alone,
motionless, and looked at the pistol while I took a room. We didn’t dare to
muzzle. bear the least resemblance to a Mr. and
“Rude to awaken you like this,” Trim Mrs. Jones of San Diego. Anglin made
pattered on. “Particularly to the noise a stupid mistake over the cottage num¬
of a dream castle crumbling about your ber, thought I reneged, and turned to
ears.” ou in desperation. I couldn’t catch
Barselou’s shoulders hunched grimly. im, but I stopped him.”
“Odell,” he gritted. “And I blamed Odell—”
“You won’t have to worry about Mr.
Trim glanced overhead quickly. There
Odell,” Trim said. “Mr. Anglin, Mr.
was a tinge of gold on the cliff edges
Odell, Mr. Gayner—all gone. And that
above the imprisoned galleon.
young bellhop is being closely ques¬
tioned by the police. Calamity has “Light enough to work by,” he said
come.” happily. “Well, shall we join the

B ARSELOU’S rugged face turned

and his eyes glinted at the Con¬ Lieutenant Lay tossed the statement
overs. on his desk and said, “Run through it
“It was you—” he began hoarsely. again.” Leaning against the closed
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 111
door, Thelma Loomis brushed ashes keep in touch.”
from her patrolman uniform. Sagmon Robottom stood up abruptly
Robottom cleared his throat. “I’m and then went out.
an archaeologist, Lieutenant. I first “What about the girl?” Thelma
told the story of the lost Spanish gal¬ Loomis asked curiously.
leon to Barselou more than a year ago. “We agree she’s nuts. I’ll check the
Naturally, I was eager to locate it. So asylums. I don’t think she just cracked
was he and—well, we pooled our talents. —she’s been cracked before. I can’t
I discovered that Barselou regarded the make answers out of her cat talk but
ship almost fanatically but believe me, she definitely places the Conovers at
Lieutenant, I didn’t realize how far he’d the ranch last night. So the next step
go!” is to find the Conovers.”
“Go on,” said Lay inflexibly.
Robottom stared at the floor. “He
hired a man named Anglin to do the
I T took them a half-hour to climb up
to the suspended ship. Anglin had
exploration and promised to sponsor an done his work well. Steps had been
expedition later. A week ago I hurried chipped in the soft stone of one cliff,
here from Los Angeles. Anglin had leading up to the stern of the Queen.
found the ship, but Barselou phoned me John Henry, Barselou, Sin, Trim with
that a man and a woman named Jones, his revolver—that was the order. Sin
masquerading under the name of Con¬ had never been so frightened in her
over, were trying to beat us to the life. The armed maniac was terrifying.
Reina. I thought I might bluff the Then suddenly, to one side, was a rot¬
Conovers out. I thought I had succeed¬ ting balcony of sand-covered wood.
ed. I was wrong. I found that out John Henry pulled her onto the deck of
when they killed Gayner and made their the galleon.
getaway. But this time, I was fright¬ “No wonder I couldn’t spot it from
ened. I hadn’t bargained for murder.” the air,” Barselou muttered.
“So you went out to the Bar C to This topmost deck was heaped with
talk things over with Barselou,” Lay sandy dirt and small rocks. Sagebrush,
prompted. mesquite, a few struggling wild flowers
Robottom’s face flushed slightly. “I had taken root. From above, it would
was looking for him when I discovered seem a piece with the surrounding Bad¬
that Odell too had been murdered—but lands.
apparently by the Jordan girl. I tried Trim chuckled. “Down into the hold.
to remonstrate with her and—well—” That’s where the chests will be.”
“You got slugged,” Miss Loomis said. Barselou led the way, but at every
“—and your policewoman rescued step the timbers creaked and groaned.
me.” The four picked their route gingerly
The Homicide chief glanced her way down a rotting flight of steps, and into
and passed it off with a “Sure.” the low waist of the galleon. Part of
“What about this Faye Jordan, any¬ the decking had fallen away here, and
way?” Lay pressed. “I understand you Barselou landed with a heavy crash.
know her pretty well, Robottom.” The Reina shuddered under the im¬
“I met her once—this morning. I pact.
gave her a card to Barselou’s—ah—” “Careful, damn you!” snapped Trim.
“Casino,” said Lay evenly. “I konw Sin extended a trembling forefinger.
about it. You might be in pretty hot “Look at them!” Sprawled around the
water now. Conspiracy, possible ac¬ deck in haphazard piles were bleached
cessory to a murder, intimidation—” bones. A skull stared at them with
Robottom raised his tired face. hollow eyes.
“What are you going to do to me, Lieu¬ “Some of Arvaez’ crew,” Barselou
tenant?” said.
“What’ll you do if I let you go?” A cannon lay helplessly on one side
Robottom’s dull voice replied automa¬ by a roughly square hole that had once
tically. “Why—I’ll go home—my been a hatch. Two of the great planks
wife—” had sprung and almost directly beneath
Lay made a gesture of dismissal and Sin she could see the five horses in the
said, “Recognizance and this statement canyon, two hundred feet below.
will do me for the time being. Just Trim, in his red knee breeches and
 112 POP COES THE 9UEEN
long blue coat, seemed a fit commander body asked him if he sang and Mr.
for the ghost ship. His sharp eyes raced Spooner said, ‘I know only two tunes—
around the shadowy deck. Then he God Save the Weasel and Pop Goes the
let out a whoop of triumph. Queen.’ Don’t you get, Johnny? She
Against a moldering bulkhead, far just popped!”
forward, was a row of squat chests. “Stop it! Stop it!” yelled Trim. He
“There!” he ordered. “Hurry—open thrust the muzzle of his revolver al¬
them up!” most in Sin’s face. “Get over against
The four people moved cautiously to¬ the wall—all of you!” Flecks of light
ward the ironbound boxes. Barselou were dacing oddly in his eyes. “This
and John Henry wrestled with the first is high tragedy. I will not accept the
chest, prying at the lid. Together they role of clown.”
forced it open, stared into the black
depths. John Henry lifted his head and
looked at the man in the pirate costume.
S IN and John Henry backed up si¬
lently, Barselou mechanically.
“False alarm,” he said. “It’s empty.” “There!” barked Trim as three backs
“Don’t lie!” Trim rasped. touched the side of the galleon. The
He bounded forward and drove the trio stood on the gun platform. Behind
other two aside with the gun. A mo¬ them, the rectangular cannon ports re¬
ment later, he raised a face that was vealed the rock face of the cliff, blind
pale and contorted with rage. Barse- and gray. From a beam that ran the
lou’s countenance had gone dead. length of the ship’s side, several rusty
“Get back!” Trim commanded, panic iron chains dangled. Each chain ter¬
in his words as he went down the row minated in a wide iron cuff. The ship’s
kicking at the dusty ironbound tops. irons.
Most of the lids flew back instantly. Trim was addressing Barselou. “Snap
A red dust arose and sunbeams danced those chains around their wrists, if you
on flakes of rust. please.”
At the last chest, Trim uttered a howl Sin licked her trembling lips and
and pulled out a fistful of round black asked, “What are you going to do, Mr.
objects like withered marbles, staring Trim?”
uncomprehendingly. Then he pivoted “An old pirate custom, Mrs. Conover.
and hurled the tiny wrinkled balls No prisoners. By the time you’re found,
spitefully at Barselou. you’ll be indistinguishable from the
“There’s your fabulous riches!” he other skeletons here.”
shrieked. His high cracked voice “No—you can’t—” Sin choked. She
screamed curses at Barselou. almost fell to her knees but John Henry
The withered black globules lay on held her to him.
the sandy timbers. Sin gazed at them The threatening pistol motioned at
and remembered something she’d read. Barselou whose mind had been numbed
Pearls, exposed to the elements, de¬ by the loss of the treasure.
teriorate and become valueless. “Johnny—don’t let him—”
“I don’t understand,” Barselou said Conover struggled but the expres¬
dully. “I don’t understand.” sionless gambler forced John Henry’s
“Maybe you can understand this,” wrists into the iron circlets. It needed
Trim panted. “Somebody beat you to all the power in his hairy hands to press
the gold, the emeralds, all the treasure. the rusty gyves together.
Somebody maybe a century ago. An¬ Sin submitted limply. The pair
glin knew! Anglin was doublecrossing stood side by side on the gun platform,
us both!” their wrists held at ear level by the an¬
John Henry laughed. He couldn’t help cient cuffs anchored to chairs from the
it, even in the face of the maniacal beam above.
fury. Barselou’s search, Trim’s involved Barselou wheeled slowly and said,
intrigue—all had been for nothing. “What next?”
Three men had died for a chest of Trim smiled, but his mouth was stiff.
worthless pearls. “It’s your turn, Mr. Barselou. Face the
Sin laughed too. “It’s another Spoon¬ wall.”
erism,” she said, her shoulders shaking. Dumbly, the big man obeyed.
“You know—the man who always got “Put your hands up just like the
his words twisted. Remember? Some¬ others.” Trim stepped catlike acro^ the
 BOB WADE AND BILL MILLER 113
deck and shoved his pistol into the cient keel for the canyon floor. Trim’s
small of Barselou’s back. “Now just final maniacal shriek spun a thread of
hold still.” terror as the two struggling men
.John Henry felt the perspiration dropped from sight. The thin noise was
beading his palms. He lashed out with drowned by the crash of timbers into
his foot at Trim’s kneecap. The little the earth below.
man danced back, howling, and stum¬ Dust swirled in the air.
bled on the uneven timbers. Sin Sin began to cry.
screamed. Below them yawned the gorge with
Over her shriek came the blanketing its churning column of brown dust.
roar of colossal rage. Barselou jerked Most of the hull and rotten decking had
a rusty chain loose from its mooring given way, but the stout curving tim¬
and whipped it ferociously at the bers of the Reina’s sides had remained
cocked hat. Trim sank to one knee in between the canyon walls. The curb
the center of the gun deck, blood on which the Conovers huddled had
streaming from his bald head. He been part of the funnel through which
raised the revolver. the ruins of the hulk had poured. And
John Henry got one hand free of the the beam to which three of their four
loose cuff of iron. But Barselou had wrists were gyved had stayed up.
leaped, with another reverberating roar, “We’re all right now, honey,” said
for the crouched figure. The pistol ex¬ John Henry comfortingly.
ploded against his chest like a cannon “I know, Johnny,” Sin whimpered.
blast. “That’s why I’m crying.”
Barselou’s huge body enveloped the Gingerly, Conover pried at their iron
little man, his fists battering, pummel- cuffs. Two of the rusty hinges bent
ing, mauling. Trim’s revolver blasted open easily. His own gyve broke apart
again. in his hands.
The deafening noise joined the echoes The dust cloud was thinning now. He
of the first explosion. They bounded could make out the dead campfire and
against rocky walls up and down the the startled horses neighing and rear¬
canyon, until the wooden ship was a ing at the new mountain of rubble that
trembling fury. had poured from the sky. The red disk
The Reina began to move. of morning sun had just topped the
“—collapsing!” Trim yelled and tried mountains.
to claw his way from beneath Barse¬ John Henry took a deep breath. As
lou’s flailing bulk. John Henry pulled soon as Sin felt better, they’d climb
Sin close. He braced his feet as the down to the horses.
gun platform shivered. The deck tilted They looked down into the depths of
and the thrashing bodies rolled toward the canyon silently. Far below, nothing
the stern. Old timbers creaked agon¬ moved in the heap of broken timbers
izingly and sand poured from above. that had once been the Manila galleon.
Two of the great overhead planks “Funny,” Sin said softly. “I feel sor¬
parted. rier for the Queen than I do for any¬
A convulsion seized the Reina as the body.”
roar of bursting seams soughed in the “The poor old Queen,” John Henry
narrow canyon slot. With a climatic agreed. “It took a long time for the
ripping of wood, the decks of the Queen pirates to catch her. But, Sin, she put
collapsed and plunged through the an¬ up a wonderful fight.”

LOOK FORWARD TO NEXT ISSUE'S THREE TOP-FLIGHT NOVELS!

THE LIFE SENTENCE, by H. C. BAILEY

HOW LIKE A GOD, by REX STOUT

FEAR DEATH BY WATER, by STUART PALMER

The Almost Perfect Murder
There’s more

to a mystery

slaying than

meets the

eye, as proved

by this

true story of

the strange case

of Walter Bakerl

by

JACKSON
HITE

A POLITICAL-WISE police captain to pick up his daughter, Hilda. Baker

once remarked that there is more to stopped in front of the house to let off
murder than meets the eye. This is a his daughter and then drove to the
good adage to remember in approach¬ garage in the rear.
ing any true crime case. Facts may not
always be what they seem to be and a Baker Goes To Garage
perfect murder may not be that at all. Hilda entered the house while the
Take the case of Walter Baker. Police father parked his machine in the dou¬
frankly admitted that they were puz¬ ble garage. Some time passed before
zled by his death and accepted it as a Hilda and her mother noticed that
perfect crime. They even brought in Baker had not come into the house as
students of criminology to study the yet. They looked over at the garage
baffling situation. If you are surprised and noticed that the light was on.
at the solution, don’t say you weren’t Mother and daughter exchanged
forewarned. good-natured glances that seemed to
It was on a winter’s night in 1941 say, “Men and their cars!” But when
when Walter Baker returned to his another fifteen minutes passed with
suburban home from a trip to the city still no word from the man of the house,
of Portland, Maine, where he had driven Mrs. Baker became worried and asked
114
 JACKSON HITE lls
Hilda to see what was causing the aminers performed an autopsy and re¬
delay. ported that the fatal bullet had been
The girl slipped over to the garage fired from either a .32 or .38 caliber
and calling her father, entered a small revolver. The doctors said the bullet
side door. Moments later her screams had entered slightly above the right ear
rang out in the frosty stillness and po¬ and had angled upward sharply, indi¬
lice of South Portland found themselves cating that the killer had been kneeling
confronted with a first class mystery. or crouching when he fired at point
Baker was dead, his body lying just blank range. The severe powder burns
within the door, a bullet hole in his showed that the gun had been held no
head. When police arrived and moved more than an inch from the dead man’s
the body they found the dead man was head when it was fired.
lying on top of an unloaded shotgun. With the coming of daylight, police
searched the banks of a nearby river to
The Open Window see if the killer had discarded his
The investigators discovered that a weapon. No trace of the ghn was
side window in the garage, which Baker found but officers did locate several
usually kept closed, was wide open. Two fragments of a bullet in the garage.
cars were parked, the one just driven in These were carefully preserved and re¬
by Baker and the other belonging to a moved to the state police technical lab¬
neighbor who lived several doors away. oratories.
The glove compartment of the neigh¬
bor’s machine showed signs of being The Killer's Smudges
ransacked and some of its contents were One of the experts working on the
strewn about. Outside, a few feet from case was the commanding officer of the
the open window, one of the officers technical division of the state police.
picked up a plain leather holster. He supervised the dusting of both ma¬
When the officer on the post reported chines in the garage in the hopes of
that Baker complained the previous finding the fingerprints of the killer but
week that he had spotted a prowler in all the officers found were several prints
the garage near the neighbor’s car, po¬ belonging to Baker and some smudges,
lice felt they were in a position to re¬ including one which had been left by
construct the killing. somebody wearing gloves, one of which
Baker had entered in time to dis¬ had a hole in one finger.
cover the intruder searching the other As the day passed with no new clues
machine. He reached for his unloaded police lost their enthusiasm for the
shotgun, either to frighten the other prowler theory. There was nothing in
off or to bluff him into capture. The the double garage to merit the attention
prowler, however, had a gun concealed of a thief, since both Baker and the
in a holster. owner of the second machine kept no
He yanked out his weapon, fired one valuables in their cars. The machines
shot and then fled through the window, themselves were neither new nor par¬
losing the holster as he made his escape. ticularly expensive.
If robbery had been his motive he had If the intruder had intended to steal
been frightened off by his deed and did one of the cars he was making it tough
not search Baker’s pockets. for himself since the garage was deep
in the rear of the house and he would
The Unheard Fatal Shot have had to drive the full length of the
Neither Mrs. Baker nor Hilda had long driveway before he could even
heard the shot. Neighbors likewise re¬ reach the street to get away, thus
ported that they had not heard the gun doubling his chances of being seen.
nor had they noticed any strangers in Neighbors in the small community
the quiet home neighborhood. An im¬ would have spotted any stranger at a
mediate search of the area turned up glance, and no one could be found who
no clues. The thorough officers even had seen any strange figures moving
sent flashlight rays dancing about the about in the dark.
attic over the garage to make certain
that the killer wasn’t hiding there. Check Victim's Background
Various state and county experts Wondering if the murder of Baker
we-*; '■'3 work on the case. Medical ex¬ had been deliberate, officers began to
lit THE ALMOST PERFECT MURDER
cheek into his background hoping for the case, hoping against hope to pick
a lead. They soon found they had up some clue, no matter how slight, that
drawn another blank. Baker had con¬ might put them on the right trail.
ducted a restaurant for over 20 years As a test to see how it would work
in Portland and had retired only the out, the Captain brought along only a
month previous. He had laughingly told few of the students, most of them being
neighbors that he now was going to en¬ young deputy sheriffs without much ex¬
joy life after years of working over a perience in crime investigation.
hot stove. He was a quiet man who The veteran officers who had been at
got along well with people and had the scene soon after the body had been
lived at the same spot almost all of his found explained to the neophytes ex¬
mature life. actly what they had found. They chalk¬
He had taken to his life of leisure ed in the position of Baker’s body, with
with relish and was seen puttering his head near the door just under the
about repairing the many small things light switch and his feet parallel with
that constantly need attention in a the wall. The garage actually was
house. He preferred to stay home eve¬ composed of one larger and one small¬
nings with his feet in slippers, smoking er structure in a sort of L-shape. Baker
a pipe and listening to the radio. kept his car in the smaller half.
“What more could a man ask?” he The exit door was situated in the
remarked to a neighbor. larger half which was used to house
the neighbor’s car. Baker was found
Killing Stirs Public dead in the larger half of the garage
and probably was on his way out when
Yet such a man, leading a blameless he was killed, being no more than a
life, had been ruthlessly shot down step from the door.
without being given a chance. His fin¬
gerprints were found on the holster and
officers reasoned that he clutched at it Deputy Discovers Gun
when the killer yanked out the gun. While the veteran officers were going
The murder stirred not only the resi¬ over the details, one of the young tyros
dents of South Portland but of the moved about the garage examining
much larger neighboring city of Port¬ everything he could find. When the of¬
land, the largest city in the state. ficer mentioned that the body had been
Local and state police worked tirelessly found just under the light switch, the
on the case only to realize that, the way young deputy moved over to the light
matters stood, there was little chance switch for a better look.
of finding the killer without a lucky
He noticed that there was a hinged
break of some kind. door above the light switch and so he
It so happened that while the in¬ opened it and looked in. Baker evi¬
vestigation was going on, a group of dently had constructed it as a handy
local officers from various parts of cabinet in which to keep his tools in
Maine were attending classes given by place and out of sight. The cabinet
the state police at central headquarters actually was nothing more than several
in Augusta. One of the men giving the
shelves constructed in a hollow space
lectures was the captain in charge of
in the wall which went up to the attic.
the technical laboratory. He had to
give up teaching to take over active as¬ The young officer, listening to the
signment on the case. lecturer and at the same time busy with
his own explorations, noticed several
ropes hanging down into the cabinet.
Technical Students Investigate He gave an experimental yank on one.
The captain realized that the shoot¬ As he did this, the rope in his hand
ing presented an opportunity for the came down while the other ropes went
student officers to obtain practical ex- up, indicating that the cord was on a
pericence of the kind they never could pulley. As tne young deputy watched,
gather in the lecture rooms. He ob¬ a gun came floating down on the rope
tained the consent of the county attor¬ and stopped in front of his face.
ney to bring some of them along while Blinking, he pulled the other rope and
authorities continued to plug away on the gun went up the wall out of sight.
 117
By this time the other men in the bullets still remaining in the weapon.
room had turned to see what was hap¬ They were identical.
pening. Once again the young deputy Several hours later Portland news¬
tugged on the rope and down dcopped papers were carrying the story of the
the gun to dangle in the cabinet secure¬ solution of the murder of Baker. It
ly tied to the rope. He pulled it out wasn’t murder at all. Baker had rigged
and let it go and the gun went back up an elaborate scheme to commit sui¬
into the cabinet, whisking up out of cide and make it appeal that he had
silght while the hinged door closed au¬ been murdered. The moment he shot
tomatically. The veteran officers hur¬ himself and the gun fell from his hand,
riedly examined the weapon. It was a the pulley brought the weapon up into
the attic wall out of sight, the hinged
.32 with one discharged shell.
cabinet door closed tight, and police
were confronted with what appeared to
Surprise Solution be a motiveless crime.
The officers had no difficulty in learn¬
A fingerprint man applied white pow¬ ing that Baker had closed his business
der to the weapon and brought out sev¬ because business had fallen off. He was
eral distinct prints. He compared them in debt and had selected his “perfect
with those collected on the case. The murder” as a way of easing the path
prints on the gun belonged to Baker, for his wife and daughter, both of
the dead man. Ballistics experts ex¬ whom he loved deeply.
amined the bullet fragments found at It seems that there is more to murder
the scene and compared them with the than does meet the eye.

you’ll Climb the 3atal Stairway . . .

Y OU'LL be timid and vengeless. You will not want to climb the steps—or
unlock the door—or pull the trigger . . . but all the time, as if in a dream,
you’ll be climbing, climbing slowly but desperately up the fatal stairway . . .
toward the blackness of violence and death. . . . You'll run to a rendezvous with

You’ll be more than a reader—you'll be a participant in HOW LIKE A GOD, the

powerful and uncanny novel by REX STOUT which will take full possession of your
emotions! It’s a reading experience that will amaze you—as you fall under the spell
of a bewildering mystery which is a real challenge!

HOW LIKE A GOD, by REX STOUT, is one of next issue's headliners—and

one of the finest detect''" "ovels of the decade! Look forward to it.
A THATCHER COLT NOVEL

About the MURDER

^^NLY a desk-lamp was burning in enough work for one secretary today.”
that famous private office at Police “Captain Henry wants to see you, but
Headquarters. The rest of the Com¬ I told him you didn’t wish to be dis¬
missioner’s room was darkened with turbed,” I replied.
the premature shadows of a gusty win¬ “Oh, well—send him in.”
ter afternoon. Brooding over blueprints, Israel Henry marched into the office,
Thatcher Colt sat at his desk, enchant¬ a heavy-set, silver-haired police cap¬
ed with the traffic puzzle of a great city. tain, and, saluting, laid an opened en¬
Finally he glanced up at me. “You velope before Thatcher Colt.
can go, Tony,” he said. “You’ve done “Young lady brought this in. Says
A THATCHER COLT NOVEL

About the MURDER of Geraldine Foster

i
she won’t go away until you’ve looked was crisp and closely cut, his brown
^^NLY a desk-lamp was burning in enough work for one secretary today.” at it yourself.” eyes somber, and his features firm.
that famous private office at Police “Captain Henry wants to see you, but Under the lamplight, the Commis¬ Having read the letter, he picked up
Headquarters. The rest of the Com¬ I told him you didn’t wish to be dis¬ sioner was a striking figure, with his the telephone, called Captain Laird.
missioner’s room was darkened with turbed,” I replied. huge and powerful frame and soldier’s “Helloa, Captain . . . Girl in my of¬
the premature shadows of a gusty win¬ “Oh, well—send him in.” face. He was the best dressed man in fice—sent by one of my oldest friends.
ter afternoon. Brooding over blueprints, public life, and not since the days of Mind if we talk with her together?
Israel Henry marched into the office,
Theodore Roosevelt had the Depart¬ Come right up.”
Thatcher Colt sat at his desk, enchant¬ a heavy-set, silver-haired police cap¬
ment known a chief of such strength, Meanwhile, Captain Henry had led in
ed with the traffic puzzle of a great city. tain, and, saluting, laid an opened en¬
courage and decision. His black hair the girl and introduced her as Betty
Finally he glanced up at me. “You velope before Thatcher Colt.
can go, Tony,” he said. “You’ve done “Young lady brought this in. Says
of Geraldine Foster

she won’t go away until you’ve looked was crisp and closely cut, his brown
at it yourself.” eyes somber, and his features firm.
Under the lamplight, the Commis¬ Having read the letter, he picked up
sioner was a striking figure, with his the telephone, called Captain Laird.
huge and powerful frame and soldier’s “Helloa, Captain . . . Girl in my of¬
face. He was the best dressed man in fice—sent by one of my oldest friends.
public life, and not since the days of Mind if we talk with her together?
Theodore Roosevelt had the Depart¬ Come right up.”
ment known a chief of such strength, Meanwhile, Captain Henry had led in
courage and decision. His black hair the girl and introduced her as Betty
Police Commissioner Thatcher Colt Faces His

Canfield. She had an attractive, piquant Captain Laird. “And a strange one.
face, large brown eyes, and wore a George Maskell is the Robin Hood of
squirrel coat and a saucy blue hat. the radicals. He and his wife, who is
Thatcher Colt greeted her pleasantly. his law partner, represent rich clients
“So you are the niece of Frank Can- at enormous fees and work for radicals
field,” he said. “It will be a pleasure to for nothing. At the death of their fa¬
do anything I can for you. One of your ther the two sons will inherit millions.
friends is missing?” But neither has much now, I under¬
“My roommate,” said Betty, with a stand.”
catch in her voice. “What time was it when you had this
The door opened to admit Captain telephone conversation with your room¬
Laird, a tall, keen-eyed officer, who at mate?” Colt asked Betty.
Dartmouth had been a track star. “It was exactly three o’clock. There
Thatcher Colt explained to Betty Can- is a little clock on my desk and I was
field: looking at it all the time I was talking.”
“Captain Laird is the chief of our “I see. What further was said be¬
Missing Persons Bureau. He will tell tween yourself and Geraldine?”
you that our most difficult cases are “I told her if she would come home
those in which the family or friends to supper, I would go out shopping
give only a part of the truth. So tell with her. But she said, ‘Christmas
us everything.” doesn’t hold anything for me now, Bet¬
ty. I wish I was dead. I guess I soon
F OR three years, Betty Canfield said, will be.’ Then she burst out laughing
she had been sharing a small apart¬ and said she was acting like a fool, and
ment on Momingside Heights with Ger¬ promised to be home early.”
aldine Foster, a girl who worked in a “But she did not come home?”
doctor’s office in Washington Square. Betty Canfield shook her head.
Geraldine was planning to be married “No! But I wasn’t much worried be¬
in January. The last time the two had cause she often stayed away for week¬
been together had been around noon on ends. I supposed she had gone over to
the previous Saturday, Christmas Eve, her folks in New Jersey. But Monday
when they had lunched at the Hotel when I hadn’t heard from her, I tele¬
Brevoort. phoned her mother. Mrs. Foster told
“I said good-by to Geraldine at Fifth me she had expected her for Christmas
Avenue and Tenth. Suddenly she leaned dinner, and was surprised she had not
forward and kissed me and said, ‘If I phoned. But she wasn’t really worried.
don’t come home for supper, Betty, Geraldine was impulsive and had often
don’t be worried—I’ll be doing my disappointed her family. They supposed
Christmas shopping.’ And before I she had gone to Boston to spend Christ¬
could answer she was walking toward mas with the family of her fiance, Har¬
Washington Square.” ry Armstrong.
“And you haven’t heard from her “I telephoned Harry, but he hadn’t
since?” asked Thatcher Colt. heard from her either, not since Friday
“I talked with her later that after¬ night when he took the train for Bos¬
noon over the telephone and, Mr. Colt, ton. Then I called up Doctor Maskell.
it was that conversation which makes He says that when he returned to his
me feel so frightened.” office on Christmas Eve afternoon, Ger¬
“Why?” aldine was gone without leaving any
“I could tell that she had been cry¬ note or message, and without waiting
ing, and she admitted she and Doctor for her salary.”
Maskell had quarreled. But she wouldn’t “What did her parents say about
tell me why.” that?” asked Thatcher Colt.
“Doctor Maskell!” reflected Colt. “Is “Old Mr. Foster is really alarmed.
he related to George Maskell, the crim¬ He and Mrs. Foster will be at my apart¬
inal lawyer?” ment tonight.”
“They are brothers,” said Betty. Thatcher Colt sat back in his chair.
“A distinguished family,” interposed “How old is Geraldine?”
120
Sternest Challenge When An Ax Killer Stalks!

“Twenty-two.” might get despondent and—”

“Have you a picture of her?” “Never, Mr. Colt!”
Opening her handbag, Betty handed
the Police Commissioner a photograph.
As Captain Laird and my chief studied
CAPTAIN Laird looked at his watch.
“I shall get started on this at once,”
it I could see the face of an intelligent, he said.
lovely girl. “What time do you expect Geraldine’s
Thatcher Colt asked for a detailed de¬ parents?” Colt asked Betty.
scription—coloring, height and weight. “Around nine o’clock.”
Betty Canfield said that Geraldine “I would like to pay a visit to your
Foster was five feet, five inches tall, apartment tonight. Now, this doctor
and weighed one hundred and thirty that Geraldine worked for. What is his
full name and address?”
“Doctor Humphrey Maskell. His of¬
fice is at one eighty-six Washington
Square North, but he lives at a hotel
on lower Fifth Avenue. Geraldine was
his receptionist.”
“Why don’t you like Geraldine’s em¬
ployer?” asked Thatcher Colt, suddenly.
Betty’s dark eyes flashed. “I dislike
him instinctively, without any real rea¬
son whatever. But there must be some¬
thing wrong with a man whose own
father and brother won’t have anything
to do with him.”
“Thanks, Miss Canfield. Stop worry¬
ing, and we’ll try to find your friend.
Expect us about eight tonight.”
She gave him the number of the Es¬
planade, an apartment house on Morn-
ingside Drive, and had reached the door
when Thatcher Colt called:
“Miss Canfield, what did you and
Geraldine have for lunch on Christmas
Eve?”
GERALDINE FOSTER The girl’s eyes held a startled gleam.
Then she answered:
pounds. She had light brown hair, red¬ “We had snails, Mr. Colt.”
dish, and blue-gray eyes. Her hands “Thanks.”
were long, slender and beautifully kept. Thatcher Colt picked up his telephone
She wore a diamond engagement ring. as the door closed behind her. The
When last seen she had been wearing a Commissioner spoke into the transmit¬
beaver coat, an orange and brown hat, ter as the call was completed.
brown shoes, brown gloves and bag. “Doctor Humphrey Maskell? The Po¬
Thatcher Colt asked: “Where any of lice Commissioner speaking. Could you
Miss Foster’s clothes, or other effects arrange to be in your office around ten
missing from your apartment?” o’clock tonight? . . . Thank you.”
“No. Geraldine took nothing with Turning from the telephone, Thatcher
her. As a matter of fact—” Betty Colt said to me:
leaned nearer. “It may not have any “Pretty little thing, Betty Canfield,
significance, but Christmas Eve Ger¬ eh, Tony? Nice, sweet girl, from a good
aldine went to the theatre with Harry, family, but she comes down here and
and when she came home she sat down tells me lies. Too bad.”
and suddenly said she was sick of the “But, Chief, how did she—”
sight of her honeymoon clothes.” Thatcher Colt waved my question
“Do you think she was a girl who aside.
122 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
“Get your dinner, Tony, and meet me For half an hour they chatted, then
in an hour. I am taking you with me Thatcher Colt said:
tonight.” “I think I have what I want now,
What had made Thatcher Colt believe Betty—a psychological portrait of Ger¬
that Betty Canfield had lied to him ? aldine Foster. A receptionist, because
Over my dinner I puzzled that ques¬ she wanted to be in the big city, insteac
tion, but came no nearer to the answer. of the little town where her parents
It was generally that way when I tried lived. An ambitious girl who was tak
to follow the strange thought-ways of ing night courses in Columbia Univer¬
the Police Commissioner, though I sity. A good-natured girl, loyal to the
knew him better than he cared to know man she intended to marry. Sent little
himself. I had first met him when I presents home to the family every week
was a reporter on the staff of the old although her salary was small and hei
Sun. Later, I served under him in the father worth perhaps a hundred thous¬
Argonne. When he was appointed Po¬ and dollars. Kind to her mother, father,
lice Commissioner he made me his brother. Within three days of her mar¬
secretary. riage, she disappeared, after that curi¬
As I hurried through a particularly ous telephone conversation with you.”
dank and unpleasant night back to “Oh, there must be some way of trac¬
Headquarters, I was musing about the ing her!” exclaimed Betty, quivering.
pretty girl who had come to the office “Easy does it, Betty. I’ve only just
Would Thatcher Colt be able to solve started. Now, your friend’s employer.
the mystery she had laid before him? Doctor Humphrey Maskell.”
I found Neil McMahon, the Commis¬ “They call him ‘the laughing doctor
sioner’s chauffeur, at the wheel of of Washington Square’,” said Betty,
Thatcher Colt’s car, which is equipped with a toss of her head. “Geraldine
with non-shatterable glass windows and told me.”
windshields and two Thompson ma¬ “Do you think Doctor Maskell has
chine-guns. any idea where Geraldine is?” Thatcher
When we were joined by the Com¬ Colt asked amiably.
missioner, Neil drove us uptown—Neil, “She quarreled with him. And 1
who had four bullet scars from his serv¬ wouldn’t put anything past him. I told
ice in plainclothes, who cut through any you his own family won’t speak to him.
maze of traffic like a knife, and exposed His brother, George, the lawyer, has
himself and you to death a dozen times not visited him in twenty years. I think
in a simple ride across the town. the doctor did sometimes see his father,
Exactly at eight o’clock, we reached but not often. And I think Geraldine
the Esplanade Apartments in the region had a suspicion that the doctor was a
of Columbia University. The apartment little mad. He is given to unexpected
we sought was on the fourth floor. Bet¬ absences and has a passion for chop¬
ty Canfield opened the door. ping down trees—says he loves the
“Have you heard anything?” was her swing of the ax.”
first question. “But you haven’t told me why the
Told that it was too early to hope family doesn’t like Doctor Maskell?”
for any results, she led us down the urged Thatcher Colt.
entrance corridor. “I don’t know—but I do believe he
The apartment was a pleasant and could tell us about Geraldine this min¬
homelike place with its gay chintzes, ute if he chose.”
nice prints, and touches of color. Then “Maybe it is the doctor who won’t
I remembered that a girl who had have anything to do with the rest of
dreamed of her wedding day here had the family,” suggested Colt. “Betty, I
mysteriously disappeared. have a feeling that you are not being
entirely frank with me about Doctor
R eturning to the living room, Maskell.”
after roaming from front to back, She flushed slightly.
Thatcher Colt stared around as if seek¬ “I am trying to tell you everything.
ing the truth about Geraldine Foster All I know is what Geraldine told me.
through clairvoyance. Then he began She said he wasn’t as wild as he liked
to question Betty with skill, leading her to make out. But she found out last
to talk about her friend confidingly. spring that detectives were following
 ANTHONY ABBOT 123
him, and believed his family had em¬
ployed them.”
“George Maskell, you mean?”
“Or Mrs. George, the gorgeous Por¬
tia. Or the doctor’s father. They are
all frightened to death that the doctor
will disgrace them. He is a fighter when
he drinks, but he has been off liquor for
several years. Anyhow, Geraldine knew
I did not like her working for the doc¬
tor. I distrusted him.”
“Again—why?”
“Instinctively, as I told you. Ger¬
aldine would tell me how he raved
against his family, calling his sister-
in-law a money-grabbing banshee, mak¬
ing fun of her drawing and singing,
and calling his father a deceived old
man. When the sister-in-law went to
Europe last summer, I think the doctor
tried to make up with George. But it
didn’t work, and the doctor cursed so
I tried to make Geraldine resign.” THATCHER COLT
“And she wouldn’t?”
“No. She liked him as much as I
disliked him.” picture of the family background and
Colt nodded thoughtfully. history. He asked about their son,
“Betty,” he said suddenly, “you men¬ Bruce, then inquired why he had re¬
tioned that your roommate sometimes mained behind.
stayed away on week-ends. Did she “Oh,” said Mrs. Foster, “Bruce thinks
confide in you about personal matters?” he knows where she is, and he’s gone
“She talked with me about Harry’s to look for her.”
jealousy, but for the last few months “Where does he think she is?” asked
she had grown secretive. Ever since the Commissioner quickly.
she began to talk about having royal “We couldn’t drag it out of him,” ex¬
blood in her viens. Someone had writ¬ plained Mr. Foster. “He just told us
ten to her about her family tree. After he was going, and he wasn’t coming
that, she kept her business to herself, back without his sister.”
most of the time.” “I would like to have your permis¬
“Perhaps you may save her life by sion,” Colt said, “to make a search of
telling everything you know—or sus¬ your daughter’s private effects.”
pect.” “Go ahead,” said the father. “You
“I don’t know anything. And be¬ won’t find anything to her discredit.”
sides—suppose she were to come back Betty guided the Commissioner in his
and find me telling you all this ■!” search, and I, with my notebook, fol¬
lowed them.
n “Geraldine’s trunk contains most of
her trousseau,” explained Betty.
ROTESQUELY enough there came But our search of those scented gar¬
a ring at the door bell just then. Betty ments gave us no information.
admitted into the living room a well- “May I see Geraldine’s comb?” asked
dressed elderly couple. the Commissioner presently. Betty
Old Edmund L. Foster, father of the handed him an amber comb. “Not a
missing girl, was a tall, bent man, with strand of hair left in it,” he remarked
shrewd blue eyes, large, red, gnarled disconsolately. “Has she a used hair¬
hands and a helpless air. His wife was net lying around?”
quite stout; her round face was wrin¬ Betty found one she said Geraldine
kled and her eyes sparkled excitedly sometimes wore. Clinging to it were
behind double-lensed glasses. several strands of fine brown hair
Thatcher Colt soon obtained a verbal which Thatcher Colt put in an envelope
124 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
and sealed. He wrote in his precise kept his gaze fixed on the calm, in¬
hand; scrutable face of his wife.
Samples of the hair of Geraldine Foster “This is different from the mental
He opened a closet door. portrait you gave me of Geraldine,”
“Was this her coat?” he asked, tak¬ Thatcher Colt protested. “The girl you
ing down a tweed jacket, the skirt of painted for me was not a criminal.”
which was hanging nearby. As Betty “No! Never!” cried Betty.
nodded, the Commissioner began fin¬ The mother and father nodded, but
gering through the pockets and drew said nothing.
forth a key. “You are sure it is Geraldine’s hand¬
“Is this for your front door?” he writing?” asked Colt.
asked. “Yes. I saw Geraldine write that
Betty said it was not. Nor did she note. On the morning of Christmas
know what lock it fitted. The key was a Eve. All at once she tore up her unfin¬
large one, of greenish metal—a key to ished letter and threw the pieces into
fit an intricate old-fashioned lock. the wastebasket. Then she wrote an¬
Colt asked the parents if they recog¬ other letter.”
nized the key. They did not. With som¬ “But how does this fragment get way
ber eyes the Commissioner resumed his back there, behind the desk drawer?”
investigation.
“We shared this desk,” Betty pointed
out. “The two left-hand drawers were
B ETTY had no answer, and Thatcher
Colt lifted the wastebasket.
Geraldine’s.” “When did you empty this basket
Colt removed the drawers and spilled last?” he asked.
their contents on the couch. He exam¬ “This morning.”
ined the papers, insurance premium re¬ Colt called the switchboard operator
ceipts, bills from dry-cleaners and de¬ to have the janitor come up at once.
partment stores, the commonplace While waiting, Colt studied the letter
memoranda from any girl’s life. Never¬ with brooding interest. Something had
theless, Colt asked Betty to preserve occurred to him. He walked over to the
them. The Commissioner found a mes¬ desk, sat down, studied a memorandum
sage that had come by special delivery: Betty had left there, then lifted the
Dear Sis, for the love of Mike wire me twenty- desk pen from its holder and began to
five bucks, will you? write on a blank sheet of paper.
He shoved the paper from him, re¬
garded it frowningly, then lifted it and
Colt was on the point of pushing the held it close to his eyes, slanting the
second drawer of the desk back into paper to an oblique position, then com¬
place when suddenly he thrust his hand paring his own writing with the torn
and arm deep into the dark recess. Pres¬ fragment.
ently he drew out into the light a frag¬ “How long have you been using this
ment of green note paper, on which kind of ink, Betty?” he asked.
some words were written in ink. When “At least a month,” she said.
Colt handed the paper to Betty, she in¬ “Any other ink in the apartment?”
stantly exclaimed: “None that I know of.”
“That is Geraldine’s handwriting!” “Did Geraldine have a special ink
and in a low voice she read aloud: “ ‘I bottle of her own?”
will never show the white feather. You “No. Is there anything wrong with
tell me it is right. Something tells me that ink?”
it is very wrong. Once in your sleep Thatcher Colt shrugged. “I don’t
I heard you say her name. I am getting know. But the ink with which I have
married and I need the money. I must just written is not the same ink with
have four thousand dollars from you which Geraldine Foster wrote that note,
although both are purple. What is ex¬
A deep silence followed that last sig¬ traordinary is that these notes are writ¬
nificant clause. Geraldine Foster a ten in different ink, but with the same
blackmailer? And who had talked in pen.”
sleep, in the hearing of this pretty girl The door bell rang and I admitted
who could not be found? There was a the janitor.
strange look in the father’s eyes as he “Is today’s waste paper still down in
 ANTHONY ABBOT 125
the cellar?” the Commissioner asked standing at the entrance to his offices
him. and smiling affably.
“Tomorrow morning they will take it A tall, rather good-looking man was
all away,” declared the janitor de¬ Doctor Humphrey Maskell, broad of
fensively. shoulder and strong of muscle. There
Thatcher Colt turned to me. “Tony, was a patch of gray in the thick brown
I ordered Sergeant Burke to report to hair at his temples, his jaws were set
me at my car in front of this house. in a strong line, and his gray eyes were
Show him this scrap of torn note, and bright and restless.
tell him to go through all the waste “Good evening, Mr. Commissioner,”
paper in the cellar if it takes a week he said pleasantly, his voice deep and
until he finds the rest of the pieces. ...” full. “Will you step in?” We followed
I left Burke on an all-night job, and him into the reception room. “I sup¬
found Thatcher Colt impatiently wait¬ pose you want to talk to me about my
ing for me in the lobby. As we hastened receptionist.”
out to the car, Neil McMahon saluted The doors of the suite were thrown
and announced: open. In the front room were chairs
“Chief, I got some dirt for you on for waiting patients, a table heaped
this Foster case.” with magazines, and a few etchings.
“Well?” In the doctor’s private consultation
“The janitor was telling me that room I saw a desk, and therapeutic
about eight-ten a.m. on the morning of paraphernalia. Beyond this was a closed
December twenty-fourth, the Foster door.
dame and the Canfield dame were hav¬
ing a big row upstairs. He says the
fight was a lallapaloosa.”
T HE doctor invited us to be seated.
“Forgive me for an abrupt begin¬
“Thanks, Neil. Let’s go.” ning,” said the Commissioner, “but did
As we started along Morningside, the someone just leave here as we entered?”
chief remarked: “Yes, certainly,” replied Doctor Mas¬
“Now, why didn’t that charming Bet¬ kell. “A poor misshapen child who is a
ty tell us about that quarrel, Tony? combination valet and chauffeur and
And why didn’t she tell us that she was cook for a lonely bachelor like myself.
once engaged to Geraldine’s brother His name is Checkles. I brought him
Bruce?” home from the war, which broke his
“How did you learn that?” I asked body and his mind. I am gradually
quickly. giving him a new body and a new
“From the father. I got some crumbs mind.”
from him. But he is not disposed to be “I remember you in the war,” Thatch¬
communicative. ’ ’ er Colt said in a low voice. "They call¬
We drove down to Washington ed you the ‘fighting doctor’.”
Square. Doctor Humphrey Maskell had Humphrey Maskell laughed.
the first floor of an old-fashioned house “Tell me what you know about the
for an office suite. Thatcher Colt and disappearance of Miss Foster,” sug¬
gested Colt, abruptly.
I were about to mount the steps when a
figure appeared in the vestibule, a little “I don’t know anything about it,”
man, bent, as if slightly hunchbacked. replied Doctor Maskell. “I wish I did.
His eyes were sliding slyly from side to Geraldine was going to leave me to be
married, and this unexplained absence
side, as if he were watchful for a sud¬
alarms me.”
den attack.
“When did you last see her?” asked
We heard him mutter: “Get me to Thatcher Colt.
talk? Never. Think I can remember? “At two o’clock on Saturday after¬
Never. But Geraldine was kind to me.” noon, Christmas Eve. Every year I give
He fled past us without a glance. presents to my patients. I like to
“Now who do you suppose that was ?” deliver them in person, the day before
I asked. Christmas. All that Saturday morning,
“I don’t know,” replied my chief, Geraldine was helping me wrap the bun¬
“but I certainly mean to find out.” dles and attach the cards. Around noon
We were promptly admitted into the she went out to lunch, but came back
hallway and found Doctor Maskell a few minutes after one. She helped me
124 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
load the presents into my car and I He strode through the two rooms to
drove off.” the door at the back and into the rear
“Was she with you?” room. His eyes turned from one object
“No,” replied the doctor with a broad to another in the clutter of stored
smile. “I had another lady with me. material. He fingered bottles and pack¬
Miss Doris Morgan, eleven years old, ages and over one large bottle he ling¬
who lives with her mother and father ered, removed the stout cork, and snif¬
and grandmother on the floor above.” fed. Then Colt left the bottle and went
“Doctor,” Colt said evenly, “where into the consultation room. He halted
did you go on that trip?” suddenly before a closed door.
“All over town.” Colt opened it and thrust his hand
“And when did you get back ?” inside. When he withdrew it he held
“Oh, it was well after four o’clock. . . a brown fur coat.
Mr. Colt, a remarkable thing happened “Did this belong to Geraldine Fos¬
when I came home. I am sure it could ter?” he asked, staring at the doctor
have no bearing on this matter, yet I with profound melancholy.
suppose I ought to tell you. I was hold¬ “Yes. Though I cannot imagine what
ing Doris by the hand, and we were it is doing in there. I have not opened
both laughing. As I stepped into the that closet since Saturday.”
hallway, I noticed a woman in front of “Was this the coat she wore on
my office door. The hall lamp was not Christmas Eve?”
burning and I could see her only indis¬ “It was. I saw her with it on when
tinctly. But I did make out that she she went out to lunch.”
was dressed in a dark coat, with the “Christmas Eve was a cold day,” Colt
collar turned up. I asked her if she said in a low voice. “Geraldine would
wanted a doctor. She answered by need her coat. And there is her bag,
demanding to know why I did not keep hanging on the same nail that held her
someone in the office while I was away. coat. Where can she be—if she went
She said she had been ringing for fif¬ out with no coat and no purse?”
teen minutes and no one had opened the
door. I thought this peculiar, for Geral¬
dine was faithful about her duties.
J N STRAINED silence we stood there
while Thatcher Colt examined the
“I tried the door, and to my surprise purse. Compact, lipstick, a book of
it was locked. I opened the door with addresses, a roll of bills and a handful
my key and walked in. The woman fol¬ of silver. The Commissioner turned
lowed me. There were no lights on, again to Doctor Maskell.
and I called for Geraldine. No answer. “Do you suppose the mysterious
Then, to my astonishment, the strange woman who accosted you could have
woman pushed past me and walked brought back the coat and purse ?”
straight into my consulation room. Be¬ “Why—why—no,” answered the
fore I reached her, she had opened the physician.
rear door and looked into the little room
“I am sorry if I have inconvenienced
at the back. That, too, was empty.
you,” replied Thatcher Colt gloomily.
“I asked her, rather peremptorily, “And I am sorry to say that I may have
what she was looking for, but she only to trouble you soon again. For the pre¬
said she was too late and burst into sent, good night.”
tears. She rushed past me, out into the
But at the threshold, Thatcher Colt
hallway. I followed her, and saw her
paused.
drive away in a taxi and that is all I
know about it. At first I was inclined “Doctor,” he said, “I am sorry to
to think that Geraldine had played me a observe that you have not been frank
rather shabby trick. But now, I don’t with me.”
know what to think.” “What do you mean?”
“Queer,” Colt said musingly. “That “You failed to tell me that you and
mysterious lady might have been just Geraldine quarreled before you left on
a wandering person with a disordered your errand of good cheer.”
mind. On the other hand, she may Doctor Maskell shrugged.
prove to be of supreme importance. I “That is true,” he admitted. “But it
think I shall take a look through your was a private matter. Miss Foster would
establishment. Mind?” not want me to discuss the subject.”
 1lcHAPTEReMi),l9eor

“But the police want you to discuss it. Presently the familiar clicking was
What did you quarrel about?” heard, and I followed my chief to the
Again the physician shrugged, help¬ second floor where we found a woman
lessly. at an open door. Her blond hair was
“About her engagement. She had radiant in the yellow light from a lamp
broken off. I told her she was a fool. behind her.
That is why we quarreled.” “Mrs. Morgan?” asked Colt.
“Why did she say she had broken off She was a beautiful woman, beauti¬
the engagement?” ful in its finest sense. But there was a
“She did not tell me.” lifetime of suffering in her watchful
The doctor was lying. Thatcher Colt eyes, in her very tone.
knew that, and Maskell knew that he “I am Pelise Morgan,” she replied.
knew. “What is it you wish?”
in Thatcher Colt explained who he was
and why he was there. But at the men¬
I HAD started down the marble steps tion of Geraldine Foster’s name a gleam
of the house when I was suddenly halt¬ flashed dangerously from the woman’s
ed by Thatcher Colt. He was in the blue eyes.
vestibule, pressing a button near the “I know nothing about Geraldine
name “Gilbert Morgan.” Foster,” she answered.
 123 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
Thatcher Colt repeated what had just voice. “Also,” he added, “Doctor Mas¬
been told to him by Doctor Maskell. kell has left town.”
Mrs. Morgan nodded. It was true that “Where on earth—”
her daughter had helped the doctor “No one seems to know. The smiling
with the distribution of his Christmas doctor of Washington Square has de¬
presents. They had been gone about the camped. He eluded my man an hour
length of time fixed by Maskell. after he began to tail him.”
“Might we talk to your daughter?” Captain Laird arrived then and the
suggested Colt. chief of the Bureau of Missing Persons
“She is asleep,” protested the mother, promptly stated, as his theory, that the
and Thatcher Colt waved his hand, dis¬ girl was in deliberate hiding. She had
missing the notion. remained away before for days at a
We returned to the street. time.
Centre Street was deserted when we “I am certain she will return,” Laird
reached the Department building. I said.
was glad to get inside, for there was a “I hope you are right,” said the
raw wind abroad. As we walked chief emphatically. “But the unex¬
through the vaulted stone corridors, our plained absence of a beautiful girl is,
footsteps echoed on the flagstones. But to me, a danger signal. We must find
the very atmosphere of the old building Geraldine Foster, dead or alive.”
seemed to charge Colt with new life. No Captain Henry came in, saluted, and
Commissioner ever loved the Depart¬ announced that Sergeant Burke wanted
ment more. to talk to the Commissioner.
On his desk lay a stack of reports “Bring him in at once.”
and he began to finger them, swiftly Burke marched into the office, his
gathering their import. He picked up a face red.
layout for a police circular to broad¬ “I have been through all the bales
cast the search for Geraldine Foster. and I have not found the missing pieces,
With a pencil, he made a few swift cor¬ Mr. Commissioner,” he said lugubri¬
rections, then read quickly through a ously.
sheaf of notes left for him by Captain Thatcher Colt glared at the detective.
Henry. Then to our surprise, Burke laid a hand¬
“Laird has found nothing,” he said ful of green paper fragments before the
glumly. “And Burke telephoned he had Commissioner.
found none of the missing pieces of that “What’s this, Burke? You just told
note. I’ll put a tail on Doctor Maskell. me you couldn’t find them.”
That may help.” “I couldn’t, sir,” pleaded the distress¬
By noon of the following day, there ed detective. “These are pieces of a
was still no word of Geraldine Foster. note written by the Foster girl, but
Thatcher Colt told me he had done some they don’t belong to the piece you
solitary prowling in Washington showed me.
Square, after breakfast, and had learn¬
ed two interesting facts. H ASTILY, Thatcher Colt fitted the
pieces together and read:
“I talked with a girl named Lizzie
Clark,” he explained. A nursemaid. Dear Harry—
Lizzie remembers seeing two women After what has happened, I can never marry
leave the Maskell house on the after¬ you do. I love you—the you I knew before—but
noon of Christmas Eve. What fixed it
in her mind was that each of the women
carried a large bottle, almost the size “Who is Harry?” Captain Laird
of a jug.” asked.
“Can you be certain one of them was “Harry Armstrong—the boy she was
Geraldine Foster?” I inquired. to marry. Did she tear up two letters?
“No,” admitted the Commissioner. Where are the missing pieces of the
“But there was a large juglike bottle other one?”
in Maskell’s office last night, and near Burke held up his right hand as if
it some wrapping paper with a tag, taking the oath that he had personally
showing three bottles were to be deliv¬ examined every scrap.
ered before three p.m. on Christmas “Go back and try again!” said
Eve.” There was a worried note in his Thatcher Colt, and Burke departed.
 The Commissioner leaned over the that note behind the desk drawer!” he
torn pieces of paper and said: exclaimed. “Funny—I looked there, too.
“Don’t you see that this note is writ¬ Get on the extension, Tony, and take
ten with the household ink used in the down the message while she reads it to
girls’ apartment? This makes the black¬ me.”
mail note even more curious. . . Listening in, I wrote:
The nation-wide quest for the mis¬ My dear Caaanova:—
sing Geraldine seemed to be fruitless, There ii nothing you can
as day followed day. But Thatcher your^ happiness will be des
Colt stuck to the case, though what ness? I think I am letting
clues there were seemed inadequate and ticularly as I do not approv<
confusing. There was, for example, what cannot be scared by your
Colt referred to as the “Clue of Ephraim show the white feather. Y,
Foster.” This was unearthed in some eard you call her
letters Geraldine had written home. In and I need the n
them the Commissioner found why sand dollars from
Geraldine had said she had royal blood Duse on Peddler’s F
in her veins. She had got the idea from There, Betty told us, the note
letters written to her by one Ephraim abruptly finished.
Foster, of Willoughby, Kansas. He was Saying good-by to her, Colt turned
tracing the genealogy of the Foster to the inter-office telephone. To another
family and intended to write a book. division of that immense Department
“We come from kings,” wrote the old he put a question:
gentleman, in a letter which the girl “Hello—Brampton? Is there such a
had sent proudly home. place in the five boroughs anywhere as
Colt called six detective sergeants Peddler’s Road ? . . . All right, I’ll hold
into his office, read them the letter, and on.”
showed them a telephone book. He turned and looked at me.
“Divide up the Fosters among your¬ “That note sounds bad,” he said.
selves,” ordered Colt. “Find out how “Who was Casanova?”
many received similar letters.” Then he spoke again into the phone
By five o’clock the next afternoon, we and listened to the crisp voice from the
knew that none of the several hundred other end.
Fosters in New York had received such “Thanks,” he said, and cradled the
a letter. Apparently Ephraim Foster receiver.
had written only to the girl who now
could not be found. Colt dictated a wire
to the Chief of Police of Willoughby,
1' KNEW my chief would give orders
to find out about all the houses on
Kansas. Peddler’s Road.
The reply came the following morn¬ “Chief,” I said, “let me do that job.
ing: I’m all up on my work here.”
EPHRAIM FOSTER HAD POST OFFICE BOX Thatcher Colt smiled.
HERE LAST SUMMER. UNDERSTAND NOT “All right,” he said. “Peddler’s Road,
A MAN BUT A WOMAN. DROVE IN FROM Brampton tells me, is a small lane, run¬
SOME OTHER TOWN TO GET HER MAIL. ning across some undeveloped property
ANYTHING WE CAN DO ? behind Riverside Drive near Dyckman
CHIEF OF POLICE DEWYRE. Street Ferry. Hop up there and take
a look around. Report back here.”
Thatcher Colt wired him to follow It did not seem to me then that an
any trace. But before we had heard hour’s time would make an important
from the West, a new development difference, and I had invited Betty
drove all other matters temporarily Canfield to lunch. I did not think it
from our minds. necessary to break the engagement.
This was the finding of the fragments I found Betty a charming luncheon
of what I have called the blackmail companion. Of course we talked about
note. Betty Canfield phoned Thatcher the fragments of the note she had
Colt, and when he turned from the tele¬ found, then I got her to tell me about
phone, his face was glowing with excite¬ herself. She related incidents of her
ment. childhood in western Maryland. Her
“Betty found the missing pieces of family still lived in Wingsboro, a little
 130 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
mountain town, where they had been “I think this must be the place,” said
neighbors of the Fosters. Betty and Betty, pointing to a wider road, but in
Geraldine had come to New York about no better condition.
the same time. Geraldine had taken There were a few large old trees,
bight courses in accountancy while whose bare boughs cried in the wind of
Betty had been studing interior decora¬ that bleak afternoon. Skirting these we
tion. She now had a good position with came suddenly upon a lonely house, a
a firm on Madison Avenue. two-story house, a charming one, paint¬
Betty did not refer to her engage¬ ed white with green windows and door
ment to Bruce Foster, and I did not sills. Its green pitch roof and the white
ask her about it. She asked me to tell scrim curtains were pleasing and home¬
her about my work, and we lingered like.
over the table while I talked about the “Perhaps,” I said, “we can make in¬
Police Department. quiries. First, let’s take a look around.”
“I think you are a good detective,” I passed to the rear of the house,
said Betty. ‘‘But I suppose that comes where at first I detected no signs of
from your newspaper training.” life, but the next minute I came upon
“How did you know I was a startling evidence of death.
reporter?” I asked. Seven pigeons lay dead almost at my
“I know more than that,” she said. feet. I picked up one, only to let it fall
“You were in the war and served with as I saw that the breast feathers of the
the Commissioner, and you were never dead bird were smeared with red; a
afraid of anybody but him, and you’re scarlet splash. Regretting my weak¬
proud of your drinking capacity.” ness, I picked it up and examined it
I stared at her in amazement. more closely, wondering if someone had
“Who told you all about me?” been heartless enough to kill all these
But she only laughed, and I saw then pigeons out of sheer wantonness. But I
that she had talked with Thatcher Colt could find no wound upon the bird. One
when I wasn’t present. after another, I took the remaining
Betty begged me to tell her about birds into my hands, only to find the
what Thatcher Colt was doing to find same scarlet daubs, and no signs of
her roommate. So interested was she injury.
that I told her about my assignment. “Betty,” I said, “what are these red
She pleaded to go with me. stains on the poor birds? Have they
I saw no harm. Betty’s knowledge of been drinking red paint and poisoned
Geraldine Foster was valuable. It was themselves, or—”
about half-past two when we started
for Upper Manhattan.
At Dyckman Street we left the car
S TRUCK with a fantastic notion, I
stopped. Those stains—could they
and climbed a narrow path into forgot¬ be blood stains? How had they come
ten country, a stretch of land which there? Had they drunk from a brook
hid itself in a region filled with apart¬ that ran red with blood?
ment houses, stores and garages. Old With deep misgivings I followed
trees were growing there, and a few Betty to the front of the house and
abandoned frame houses. rapped on the door. There was no
As we trudged up the hill, a sallow¬ answer, although I knocked repeatedly.
faced boy passed us and I called to him: Finally I impatiently tried the knob.
“Where is Peddler’s Road?” To my surprise, it yielded and the door
“Up there by the haunted house opened.
where you can see the naked ghost,” he I stepped inside and then stood appal¬
said. led, rooted at the threshold. My first
“What’s that?” I cried, but the boy glance around the living room told me
ran down the steep slope. that a horrible crime had been com¬
Betty and I looked at each other, mitted there. Everything seemed be¬
then laughed. Being lost was ridiculous. daubed with blood. I have never seen
Was this lane the Peddler’s Road we such a spectacle of fury let loose within
had come here to seek? There seemed four walls. Tables, chairs, bookcases,
no way of telling. There were no street all were flung around as if overturned
signs, nor any living being of whom we in some life and death struggle. Blood
might inquire. was smeared everywhere, staining the
 ANTHONY ABBOT 131
drapes, spotting the walls, and clotted
on the floor.
“For God’s sake, don’t come in here,
Betty!” I called.
But she had seen, and she stood there
in the winter sunlight with her gloved
hands lifted against her cheeks and her
eyes closing with fear. Then she turned
and ran.
My hand was groping for an electric
switch-button when I suddenly heard
a noise—the sound of a footstep on the
stairs. Only a slight sound, merely the
scraping of a shoe. But it was the
sound of something moving and alive
in this house where hideous murder had
been committed.
The sound came again. Footsteps
descending a staircase.
I drew my revolver and waited. Then,
suddenly, I heard a familiar voice, yet
sharpened with an unfamiliar choler.
“Put down your gun,” said the voice.
“It is a fancy weapon, I see. All very
impressive to the young lady. But you
won’t shoot. You’re no cop—you’re too
busy taking girls to lunch to be a police-

I put down the gun and stood, shame¬

faced and guilty, as Thatcher Colt
walked into the room.

IV

jAl. S THE Police Commissioner press¬

ed a button, the lights in the wall
bracket lamps glowed softly over the
shocking confusion of the room. But I
looked only at Thatcher Colt, wonder¬
ing how and why he was here.
“Tony,” he said, “I caught a glimpse
of you and your girl friend at lunch¬
eon. While you were chatting over a
table I came up here and made the
discovery that could have been yours.”
“I’m sorry, Chief. I—”
He waved aside my contrition.
“The girl we have been looking for
was probably murdered in this room.
You remember that I carried away from
her apartment a sample of her hair?
Well, in this room I have found other
samples—soaked with blood. I found
them clinging to the blade of this.”
From a corner behind him he lifted
an ax that gleamed in the light. On the
steel blade were dark red stains.
“Geraldine Foster was hacked to
death,” he said. “Somewhere near this Under the drug Doctor Maskell, utterly relaxed, spoke
house we’ll find her body. I found a without any reserve whatsoever (CHAPTER IX)
132 ABOUT THE MURDER >F GERALDINE FOSTER
spade in the kitchen, apparently used faced Betty Canfield staring at us. She
lately. The murderer wore silk gloves, looked pale and ill.
leaving thumb and finger prints on the “Chief,” I pleaded, “may we send
handle of both the ax and the spade, Miss Canfield home?”
but no identification. Moreover, the per¬ “In the investigation of a suspicious
son who committed this crime was death,” he said, “it is the duty of the
five feet, eleven inches tall, exception¬ police to prevent unauthorized persons
ally strong. That is clear because once from entering upon the scene of a crime
the ax blade in a particularly vicious until a member of the Detective Division
swing struck the wall. We can guess at appears. But it is also essential for
the height from that.” the identification of the body of the
As he talked, he kept nodding. deceased to be made. Under one rule,
“The lock on the front door has re¬ I can’t admit you in the house, Betty,
cently been repaired,” he said. “The but under the other I must ask you to
kitchen window was broken, and the remain nearby.”
house burglarized, either by a midget “All right,” said Betty. “I’ll wait
or a small boy. The footprints in the outside until you call me.”
dust show that. And Tony, since the “One moment,” said Thatcher Colt,
kitchen window glass was smashed, and striding toward her, held out his
pigeons have taken to roosting here. hand. On his palm was a platinum
They even drank of warm human blood, wrist watch.
and then, struggling to get into the “It’s Geraldine’s,” moaned Betty.
open air, they died. I found one little “The crystal is broken,” said Thatch¬
corpse in the kitchen.” er Colt, “and the case dented. It was
“Extraordinary!” I gasped. undoubtedly struck by one of those
Thatcher Colt’s eyes were roaming blows with the ax. The hands likely
around the room. indicate the hour of death—five-ten.’
“Where did you find it, Mr. Colt?”
“I am inclined to believe that a boy
with a swallow face actually saw part asked Betty.
“In the bath tub,” he answered.
of the murder. But he thinks he saw
He put away the watch and laid a
a ghost. I didn’t have time to question
hand on the girl’s shoulder.
him fully, but I have his name and
“Brace up,” he said. “I’m afraid you
address.
have a tough job ahead of you. It looks
What a bungler Thatcher Colt would as if your roommate was the victim of
have thought me if I had told him the some brutish, yet clever criminal who
same boy had crossed my path, and I turned this pretty little house into an
had let him run off! abattoir. But the crime, I believe, was
Suddenly the Commissioner gave a premeditated and performed coolly and
low whistle and dropped to his knees. with calm intention. That’s what makes
From the floor he lifted a hair or a thin it so horrible.”
strand of fabric.
“Just a straw, Tony,” he said. “To
show the way the wind blows. Golden
H E TURNED from the girl, and
began emptying his pockets.
hair that might belong to some innocent “Take these, Tony,” he said. “They
person, yet might have dropped from may point us to the murderer.”
the head of the murderer.” He put into my hands the watch,
He put the hair carefully away, wrapped in a handkerchief, two enve¬
marked for identification. lopes, on each of which the word “hair”
“The brutality of this crime,” he had been scribbled, and a white face¬
informed me, “is the best promise of cloth on which were two scarlet stains.
its solution. It was not the result of “I’ll have more for you later,” he
sudden fury; it was neither casual nor promised. “Just now I want to—”
accidental. It was planned. The bath¬ He did not finish, for suddenly Neil
room smells of pine trees. When we McMahon towered in the doorway, a
find out why, Tony, I believe we shall gleam in his eyes.
unearth a peculiar fiendishness behind “I have the grave, Mr. Commis¬
this murder.” sioner,” he announced.
Suddenly the door knob rattled, the Thatcher Colt followed him out of the
front door was pushed open, and we house. I was close upon his heels. Betty
 ANTHONY ABBOT 1J3
leaned against the doorpost, looking stripped after she was dead. Why?”
after us with frightened eyes, as we The Commissioner played his flash
plunged into a thicket of trees. on the pillow case.
The little light that still lingered “It’s wet,” he said, “but not with
penetrated but dimly into the wooded blood. And this is dry ground. Very
section that surrounded the house. But dry ground. What is water doing in
Neil led us through the dimness, spray¬ this grave ? And the smell of pine trees
ing a stream of light from his flashlight. all around? There are no pine trees
The mystery of dusk lay over us as we here.”
came to a little open space, and Neil He put one hand on the knee, then
played his flashlight on a sinister on the shoulder of the stiff form, and
mound, covered with dried leaves. drew it away.
Colt knelt and swiftly pushed aside “The body, too, is wet,” he muttered.
armfuls of leaves. The earth laid bare Suddenly he rose.
was frozen and stiff in the grip of win¬ “Tony,” he said, “you stay here and
ter. In another moment, the most guard this body. McMahon, come with
immaculate dresser in the city admin¬
istration, on the knees of his gray- As I watched them retreat through
striped trousers, was clawing up hand¬ the trees and I stood there with the
fuls of earth. Neil and I followed suit, open grave and its dreadful burden at
scooping up clods of earth. my feet in the dark, I was very cold
Suddenly I gave a cry. My hand had and lonely.
touched something cold and stiff—the The Commissioner had taken the pil¬
bare foot of a human body. low-case with him. Why had a pillow¬
We clawed at the earth that lay case been put over the head of the
around that stiff form. The air was corpse, leaving all the rest of the tor¬
bitter cold, yet perspiration ran from tured body nude? I wondered if that
our foreheads into our eyes. But ages meant the killer could not bear to look
seemed to pass before we could stand upon the mutilated face of his victim.
up and, sick with horror, look down Suddenly, I heard the rustle of foot¬
upon that illuminated trench. steps, and a light gleamed fitfully
We had unearthed the nude form of through the trees.
a girl, the head covered with a stained “Who is there?” I called.
pillow-case, the body hideously hacked. “It’s me,” said McMahon, and covered
On one slim finger glistened the dia¬ me in the glare of his flash. He was
mond of an engagement ring. carrying a small bottle.
After the first long, appalling scru¬ He passed me his flashlight and drop¬
tiny, we turned away. Neil clutched ped into the shadows that hovered over
off the light. In the dark we stood there, the grave. Lying flat on his stomach,
men who had fought in front line he uncorked his bottle and lowered it
trenches, shaken and sick. out of sight. I heard a gurgling sound,
Then Thatcher Colt’s own flashlight then he lifted the bottle, half-filled with
was turned on the grave and he knelt some fluid, corked it, and stood up.
on the rim of the pit. Reaching down,
he pulled away the pillow-case that
shrouded the head. The cruelly bat¬
1 SAW Thatcher Colt approaching,
with Betty Canfield by his side. She
tered face looked up at him with its threw me a glance of horror, but did
sightless eyes. not speak.
The resemblance to the photograph “Just take one look and tell me,” said
of Geraldine Foster was undeniable. Colt, and put his arm around the girl
“The body is nude,” cried Thatcher as they stood together on the brink
Colt suddenly, “and yet—” of the grave.
He put his finger on one cruel wound No loud cry came from Betty, but
in the shoulder. Carefully he disen- her low moan of anguish was poignant
aged a piece of thread, imbedded in the and pitiful.
esh. “It is Geraldine!” she wailed, then
“There are these almost invisible Thatcher Colt was leading her away,
traces of cloth in several of the ax with Neil hastening after them. Cruel,
cuts,” he said. “Evidently she was but a necessary performance.
clothed when she was attacked, and I kept my lonely vigil over the body
134 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
of Geraldine Foster. I could guess what in separate envelopes, then Sergeant
was afoot in the house. McMahon, act¬ Wickes, from the Statistical and Crim¬
ing on the orders of his chief, had tele¬ inal Identification Bureau, inked the
phoned Headquarters. Already the dead girl’s finger tips and took the black
word had gone out about Colt’s grue¬ impression of her whorls and loops.
some find. Detectives from the Homi¬ Finally, the body was carried out to
cide Squad were on their way with a patrol wagon, waiting to carry it
police photographers and stenograph¬ downtown.
ers; the Medical Examiner or one of his “When can I have your final report?”
assistants had been summoned, and asked Colt, as the doctor was departing.
someone from the District Attorney’s “Some time before morning.’
office was headed for us, too. Mean¬ “Please send it to my office at Head¬
while, I knew that Thatcher Colt had quarters.”
returned to his solitary quest, the hunt¬ When the two cars drove off down
er already started on a private trail. Peddler’s Road, the hunt was already
Though it was only half an hour, it organized, with that skilful military
seemed I had stood guard for hours recision which Thatcher Colt had
before I saw the flashing of lights and rought into the Department.
heard the rumble of many voices. Colt One of the first results of the sys¬
strode forward, leading a procession of tematic search was the finding of two
officials, patrolmen, plainclothes men large bottles, several hundred feet dis¬
and others from the Department. A tant from the grave. Colt received
dozen flashes blazed around the grave. them with interest.
Colt had ordered the entire plateau of “Remember,” he said, “that Ger¬
undeveloped land roped off, so that pos¬ aldine Foster—or a girl resembling her
sible footprints and other traces might —was seen leaving the house in Wash¬
be safeguarded. A Department photog¬ ington Square, in company with another
rapher set up his camera, and blast woman, and both carried large bottles,
after blast of lighted smoke flashed up just like this, and just like another in
in acrid plumes through the trees as the back room of Maskell’s suite of
pictures were taken. offices. We’ll give more thought to
Under Colt’s orders, some of the those bottles, Tony.” He paused and
detectives began a meticulous search of smiled at me. “For your peace of mind,”
the surrounding land. Still others were he disclosed, “I have sent Betty Can-
delegated to repeat the Commissioner’s field down to Headquarters. There are
search of the house. some questions she will have to answer
Two patrolmen hoisted the body from tonight. I have also telephoned for the
the grave, carried it back to the house poor parents of the dead girl.. . Tony, I
and heaved it up on a white enameled think I hear the stentorian boom of a
table in the kitchen. Assistant Medical familiar voice.”
Examiner Multooler had agreed to
make a preliminary examination.
“How long do you think she has been
T HROUGH the door came a huge man
with curly red hair, large, bold blue
dead?” asked Colt, after perhaps five eyes and prognathus jaw. The newcom¬
minutes. er shook hands grimly with the Police
Doctor Multooler replied: “I can only Commissioner. He was that vital and
guess until I make an autopsy. But I magnetic Merle Dougherty who was
would say not more than thirty-six such a firebrand while he was District
hours.” Attorney. He and Thatcher Colt dis¬
“Thirty-six hours!” Colt repeated. agreed on almost every known subject,
“That seems impossible!” with the exception of their admiration
The doctor smiled. “Impossible, Mr. for each other.
Commissioner? The state of the body I soon learned that Dougherty had
tells me it has hot been dead more than kept himself informed about the police
forty-eight hours at the utmost.” search for Geraldine Foster.
Thatcher Colt’s eyes, staring into “Well, Colt,” he said, “your hunch
space, seemed to be contemplating some was right. It was murder—and a pretty
mystery that horrified him. messy one. I have decided to take per¬
A detective scraped under the dead sonal charge of the affair, and bring
girl’s fingernails and deposited the dirt the murderer to the electric chair so
 ANTHONY ABBOT m
quickly it will be a lesson to the whole room, with its old-fashioned woodwork
country.” and its transoms of stained glass, we
“I shall be glad to have your coopera¬ saw most of the people concerned in
tion, Dougherty,” drawled Colt. “I the mystery of Geraldine Foster staring
thought I might take a hand in solving into our faces with haggard eyes.
this business myself.” The father and mother of the mur¬
“Conflict of authority?” barked dered girl guessed the truth before
Dougherty. Colt spoke to them briefly. Among the
“Not at all. At head of the Force, others were two young men I judged to
I am merely doing my duty . . . Isn’t be Bruce Foster and Harry Armstrong.
Hogan with you?” Aloof from them all, looking pale and
“Sure!” worn, sat Betty Canfield.
A bald-headed little man stepped Thatcher Colt hastened on into his
quickly through the door, Dougherty’s private office and I followed him. On
favorite detective, assigned to the Dis¬ the desk he laid the pillow-case with the
trict Attorney’s office. He held a white dead pigeons. Then he dashed into a
package, tied with red ribbon. small retiring room and I heard the
“Hogan might as well listen, too,” sound of rushing water. Mr. Colt was
explained Colt, and gave the District taking a shower. In an amazingly short
Attorney a complete resume of the time, he came out again, as immaculate
crime, from the first appearance of as if he were just reporting to work.
Betty Canfield at Headquarters down to Meanwhile, I had laid on the desk the
the finding of the corpse. envelopes of hair, the face cloth with
“Some lover of hers did it,” said the crimson stains, the watch, and the
Dougherty promptly. “All we have to ax, which I had wrapped in a news¬
do is to find who owns this house and paper. Then I got busy on the tele¬
have a talk with some of her boy phone, for the Commissioner.
friends.” Presently the Deputy Chief Inspector
“By the way, Hogan,” Colt said, “is arrived, followed by Doctor Clesleek,
that a Christmas present you have one of the most scholarly chemists at¬
found?” tached to the office of the Medical
“Yes, a silk muffler,” said Hogan. “I Examiner.
found it under the sofa.” Thatcher Colt issued crisp orders. He
“I’ve already had a look at it,” an¬ wanted the owner of the house on Ped¬
swered Colt agreeably. “Also, I have dler’s Road found and brought down¬
found that this house is owned by a town. A detective must be sent to a
Mrs. Haberhorn. It will be simple to chemist’s shop on Madison Avenue, to
find out the name of her tenant—if the find out what had been in three large
tenant gave her his real name. And, bottles delivered to Doctor Maskell on
by the way, I am temporarily removing Christmas Eve.
some evidence from the scene.” He “You might add that those bottles
lifted the pillow-case and flung it over smelt like pine trees,” said Colt.
his shoulder. He gave instructions for examining
“What’s inside the bag?” asked the refuse from under the nails of the
Dougherty. corpse and the hairs in two envelopes.
“Seven dead pigeons,” answered Then he called Doctor Clesleek and in
Thatcher Colt. “About midnight join a low voice gave other instructions
me at Headquarters, will you, Dougher¬ about the wash cloth.
ty?” “What you ask is almost impossible,”
“Okay,” said Dougherty. “If I haven’t said Doctor Clesleek. “But I will do my
arrested the murderer before then.” best.”
“You won’t!” The Commissioner “In the pillow-case on my desk are
chuckled and led the way to the street. some dead pigeons, Doctor,” Colt said.
“Can you examine them and make a
guess as to how long they have been''
dead ?”
II l AVING eluded the reporters, wait¬ Doctor Clesleek sighed. “I’ll do my
ing for Thatcher Colt, we hurried on best,” he repeated.
toward the Commissioner’s office. As Following the officers, Clesleek, his
we entered the octagonal reception arms full of dead birds, left the room.
 136 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
“Tony,” Colt cried, “I wonder if those you are looking for motives for the
blunderers up on Peddler’s Road have murder, you have two now.”
found Geraldine’s clothes yet! I as¬ “Two, Chief?”
signed three of them to the job .. . Ask “Yes. There is the possibility of the
that poor old couple to come in, Tony.” Virginius motive—the father who
Mr. and Mrs. Foster trudged into the places such store on chastity that he
office and sat down before the Com¬ would kill a violated daughter. And
missioner’s desk, making an effort to Bruce Foster might have killed the girl
hold their composure. Gently Colt gave to get her share of the inheritance. He
them a part of the story, urging upon would not be the first brother to do
them the importance of remaining calm such a thing.”
and giving what help they could. He told me to bring Bruce Foster into
“Mr. Colt,” rumbled old Foster, the office.
“whatever happens, my daughter was a The young man who stalked in was
good girl, and don’t forget that!” tall and thin, but looked strong. He
His wife stared fixedly through her had sandy hair, ruddy complexion, and
glasses. But there were no tears on her challenging blue eyes. In his very walk
strained face. there was an air of truculence as if he
“I am sure Geraldine was a good were determined to prove to the world
girl,” returned Thatcher Colt earnestly. that he was not afraid of it.
"But, Mr. Foster, you remember the He thrust forward his head and said
key that we found in her pocket. Are to Thatcher Colt:
you sure you know nothing of that “This is a hell of a way to treat
Key r white people. You send my father and
“Nothing,” declared Foster. mother to the morgue to look at Ger¬
Colt explained then that the key ry, before they cut her up, but you
fitted the house on Peddler’s Road. He won’t let me go with them to catch
questioned the father about the friends them when they fall!”
and acquaintances of his daughter. Mr. “Sit down,” Colt said crisply.
Foster liked them all. He thought Bet¬ Bruce flung himself into the chair
ty Canfield a sweet girl, Harry Arm¬ and glared defiance at the Commis¬
strong a smart young fellow, and Doc¬ sioner.
tor Maskell had treated Geraldine fine. “Your sister has been murdered,”
The father had a good word even for said Colt. “I know it is hard on your
Checkles, for whom Geraldine had man¬ parents. But the police need you right
ifested a pitying kindness. now. To tell what you know.”
“Was Geraldine in any financial dis¬ “What I know? I don’t know any¬
tress?” thing.”
“Bunk!” thundered the father. “I “We’ll never get anywhere that way,”
have a hundred thousand dollars and Colt remonstrated. “You thought your
half of it would have gone to my girl sister was having an affair. You didn’t
when I died. She must have been crazy want your father to know. So you
when she wrote that note you found. started to settle the matter yourself.
Why, she knew I was going to give her Who did you think she had an affair
ten thousand as a wedding present. And with?”
she knew she could come to me for The young man turned pale. “Who
anything!” told you that?” he demanded.
“Who will inherit her share?” asked “I guessed it,” said Colt. “Whom
Colt. did you suspect, Bruce? Where did you
“It goes to my boy Bruce, now,” said go to search for your sister?”
Foster. The boy would not answer. Thatcher
Colt fixed him with a glance.
A KNOCK sounded on the door and “Bruce, I had one report on you from
Captain Henry announced that the Betty Canfield. She used to like you.
Medical Examiner had sent for the But she broke her engagement with
parents of the dead girl. The Commis¬ you. She said you used to be a fine fel¬
sioner shook hands with them and sent low, but turned into a good-for-nothing
them forth on one of the saddest er¬ all at once. Hitting the booze. Almost
rands that can come to mortal kind. lost your accountant’s job. Didn’t you
“Well, Tony,” Colt said to me, “if take to drinking because you believed
 ANTHONY ABBOT 137
our sister was leading an immoral brand established at the earliest pos¬
fe?” sible moment.”
“What has that to do with the mur¬ Captain Henry saluted and retired,
der?” Bruce asked. and Colt turned back to Bruce Foster.
But Thatcher Colt was relentless. “Maybe you are not telling every¬
“Does that refresh your memory?” thing,” he said. “You will, sooner or
he asked, and tossed the key on the later. Now, Bruce, get your mother and
desk. “Whose key is that? To whose father and take them home. But I want
door?” you back here tomorrow morning.”
Bruce Foster shut his eyes to avoid As Bruce left the room, Thatcher
the stare of Thatcher Colt’s eyes. He Colt’s eyes held a cryptic expression.
moved restlessly. “Tony,” he said, shaking his head,
“I never saw it before,” he declared. “I know you wish I would talk to Betty
“All right,” said Colt. “Tell me where Canfield next, so she can go home.”
you went to look for your sister.” “Right,” I exclaimed, and bounded
“I was just a fool,” said Bruce bit¬ for the door.
terly. “I’ll tell you all about it. I My heart ached for the woebegone
knew things hadn’t been going well little figure that slumped in the chair
between Gerry and the fellow she was before Thatcher Colt.
going to marry. The nearer the wed¬ “Betty,” he began, “you have not
ding came, the more miserable she been frank with me from the start,
seemed. But she wouldn’t tell me what but now you must realize you have to
the trouble was, nor Pop, nor Mom. On be. Why did you and Geraldine quarrel
Christmas Eve I was in New York and the day before she disappeared?”
I called her up. I was going to take her Her shocked expression betrayed her
home for Christmas. But she was cry¬ surprise.
ing and said she didn’t care what hap¬ “Mr. Colt, I don’t want to tell you!”
pened to her. I said I would come right “This is murder!” he reminded. “It
up, but she told me not to.” was about Bruce’s suspicion of his
“What time was that?” asked Colt sister’s morals, was it not?”
casually. Betty would not speak. I had to
“A little after two o’clock in the admire her loyalty.
afternoon.” “Bruce thought Geraldine had an
“And when you learned that your affair with Harry Armstrong—and that
sister was missing, where did you go he refused to marry her. He came to
to look for her? This is the third time you about it. You told Geraldine, and
I’ve asked you that question!” that started the quarrel.” He paused,
“I went to Harry Armstrong’s apart¬ then asked, “Betty, was Geraldine inno¬
ment. That day Pop and Mom came into cent?”
New York and talked with you. I didn’t “Absolutely.”
know what might have happened to “But the engagement was broken?”
Gerry. I was ready to have it out with “Yes, But they kept trying to patch
Harry. But I couldn’t locate him. And up whatever it was they quarreled
since I’ve talked with Pop and Mom, I about.”
know there wasn’t anything wrong be¬ “When was the last time Harry Arm¬
tween Gerry and Harry.” strong telephoned your apartment?”
“Who else did you question about it?” Colt asked.
A look of surprise flushed Bruce’s “He telephoned twice about three
face. o’clock on Christmas Eve morning.”
“Betty!” “But how is that possible? He was
A rap came at the door, Captain supposed to be on the night train to
Henry came in, and laid a small enve¬ Boston.”
lope on the desk. “I hadn’t thought of that before, Mr.
“From Doctor Multooler,” he said. Colt.”
Thatcher Colt lit his pipe, and re¬
C OLT opened the envelope, and I was sumed :
close enough to see minute particles “Now tell me the real reason why
of some dried, red, flaky substance. you meet Doctor Maskell with the
“Take these to Clesleek,” ordered the frappe glance and the glace maner?
v irnmissioner. “Tell him I want the You said you didn’t like him, but didn’t
138 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
know why. But I doubted that, Betty. day night, December twenty-third, you
What makes you dislike the doctor?” took the midnight train out of Grand
She stood up. ‘‘Because Doctor Mas- Central Station. Yet I understand you
kell told Geraldine that he believed telephoned Geraldine a few hours later.
murder justified under certain circum¬ Where did you telephone from, Arm¬
stances. After I heard that I could strong?”
never bear the sight of him!” “From Hartford. I was worried.
After Betty left, Colt remained mood¬ Geraldine and I had had several little
ily at his desk, toying with the key. misunderstandings. I decided I was all
“Our motives accumulate, Tony,” he wrong, so I got off the train, called up
remarked. “Now let’s have a look at and suggested that we elope and show
Harry Armstrong.” up Christmas morning at my mother’s
The fiance of the murdered Geraldine house as man and wife.”
was a young man of medium height, “And she refused? Why?”
with greenisn-blue eyes, curly brown “Because she was still angry. I hung
hair, and a slightly supercilious air. up. Then I got lonesome and morbid.
But a tragic, wounded expression glow¬ I had a few drinks, called her again, and
ed in his handsome eyes. we had the whole argument all over
Thatcher Colt began by trying to win again.”
his confidence. In a murder mystery the “And she still refused you?”
police place their chief reliance on the “Yes,” said Armstrong bitterly. “If
frankness of the friends of the slain she hadn’t, she might be alive today.”
person. He hoped he might count on “What did you do after the telephone
Mr. Armstrong to answer all questions call?” asked Colt.
freely. “I drank myself into insensibility.
“You may,” said the young man When I regained my senses I was in
laconically. Grand Central Station. That was around
"All right. Now, tell me about your¬ six o’clock Christmas Eve.”
self.” “What had you been doing mean¬
Armstrong was a bond salesman in while?”
the Wall Street district. He had met “I don’t know.”
Geraldine Foster two years before, Thatcher Colt looked sharply at the
their friendship had ripened until they young man.
finally became engaged. They had plan¬ “Do you mean to tell me you cannot
ned to be married the day after New account for your movements from the
Year’s. time you called Geraldine, and six
“Were there premarital arrangements o’clock Christmas Exe?”
between you and Geraldine Foster?”
“That is correct, Mr. Colt.”
Colt asked.
“Bruce Foster has been talking to “Do you realize that the girl vanished
you!” cried Armstrong angrily. within that time?”
“You know, Armstrong, Colt said, “I certainly do. But can you think
“I am glad to find such sensitiveness of any sensible reason why I should
about such matters. Lots of people to¬ kill the girl I loved?”
day consider trial marriage wholly “Well, Armstrong,” the Commis¬
respectable. Apparently that isn’t true sioner said, “I’m sorry you cannot give
of Bruce Foster, old Mr. Foster, or a clearer account of your movements.
yourself.” What was the cause of your disagre¬
“Or Geraldine!” exclaimed Arm¬ ement with Geraldine?”
strong vigorously. “I can’t answer that—fully. I will
“Suppose she had been intimate with only tell you this, Bruce is not Geral¬
another man?” Colt said suddenly. dine’s brother. I quarreled with Geral¬
dine because I was a snob, and I regret
D EEP pallor crossed the young face, it. Bruce is an adopted child.”
and beads of perspiration stood on Thatcher Colt looked at the young
his brow. man inscrutably.
“I won’t discuss that,” he said “You are not telling me the whole
huskily. truth!”
“Good!” agreed Colt. “Now about “No—and I don’t intend to.”
your own movements recently. On Fri¬ “Then I am sorry. I shall have to
 ANTHONY ABBOT 139
turn you over to some of our men for “What was the name of the tenant,
questioning.” Mrs. Haberhorn?” asked Colt.
Colt spoke into the inter-office phone. “He said he was a Mr. Bigsbee. Hut
Soon Captain Henry led Harry Arm¬ why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s
strong away. As soon as we were alone, right outside your office.”
Colt was on the phone, calling the Chief “Here?” cried Thatcher Colt, spring¬
of Police of Wingsboro, Maryland. He ing to his feet. “Show him to me f”
held a long conversation, during which We followed Mrs.Haberhorn to the
I caught the name of Bruce Foster. door and she pointed to a man, smiling
Presently, there was a lull and Colt blandly at us in the outer room.
turned to me. He was the missing Doctor Humphrey
“The Chief of Police has a brother Maskell.
who knew the Foster family well when
they lived in that town. He is getting VI
the brother to the telephone. Get on
the extension phone.” Mn SPITE of the grimly controlled
Listening in, I heard: expression on his face, Thatcher Colt
“Helloa, Mr. Colt . . . I’ve found out was taken by surprise that the “laugh¬
about the Foster family adopting that ing physician of Washington Square”
child . . . They named him Bruce . . . had returned to New York.
Yeah, his mother died when he was “Good evening, Mrs. Haberhorn,”
born. His father was hung down here Doctor Masked said urbanely. “You
for an ax murder—one of the worst seemed as if you did not want to recog¬
murders in the history of this state . . . nize me when you passed me going in
Yeah! People always said Mr. Foster just now.”
was the boy’s real father . . . Anything “I shad want to talk to you in just
else?” a minute, Doctor,” said Thatcher Colt.
“Thanks, nothing else,” said Thatcher “I felt sure of it,” replied Masked,
Colt. with a wide and complaisant smile.
As he hung up the receiver his eyes
The Police Commissioner backed into
were grave. I was about to ask several his office, and Mrs. Haberhorn followed
questions when Captain Henry came in. him.
“The woman who owns the house on
Peddler’s Road is here,” he announced, “How long did you say that man has
rented your place, Mrs. Haberhorn?”
and at a quick nod from the Commis¬
sioner, he hastened to admit her. “About two years ago.”
Mrs. Haberhorn was a shabbily dres¬ “What dose he use the house for?”
sed old woman, with a voice like a tug¬ “What should he use it for?” count¬
boat captain’s, and a breath like a still. ered the landlady indignantly. “What’s
But she did her best to be a lady. Her he done wrong up there? Not arson?”
hair had recently been dyed brown, and “No—just a little murder. Pretty
her blue eyes glittered suspiciously. girl chopped up with an ax. You don’t
“You don’t expect I can ask for the want to get mixed up in that, do you?”
marriage license of everybody I do Mrs. Haberhorn suddenly paled,
business with, do you?” she asked threw out her hands and fed in a stupor
Colt. “If you don’t think I am honest, on the floor. Captain Henry and I had
ask any policeman on our beat. They’ll to carry her out. Instructing the Cap¬
tell you.” tain to restore her, but to keep her in
After we had calmed her down, we the building until further orders, I
learned that she kept a rooming house hurried back to the office. There I
on West One Hundred and Twenty- found that the questioning of Doctor
second Street. Apparently she was Masked was, for the moment, delayed.
miserly, dressed poorly to hide her afflu¬ Thatcher Colt was shaking hands with
ence. She also owned the plot of Dougherty, who seemed bursting with
ground on Peddler’s Road, which she excitement. Behind the District Attor¬
had held for twelve years as an invest¬ ney stood Hogan, smiling secretively.
ment. Two years ago she had rented “I’ve gone over nearly everything up
the ground to a tenant who put up the at the house,” announced Dougherty.
portable house in which Geraldine Fos¬ “And Colt, I think our work is nearly
ter had been slain. done.”
140 ABOUT THE MURDER F GERALDINE FOSTER
“Really?” Colt looked startled. “I can’t tell you everything just yet,”
“Yes,” boomed the District Attorney. stipulated Colt, then gave the District
“We have come pretty close to the solu¬ Attorney a resume of what had hap¬
tion. All we have to do now is to find pened since our return to Headquarters.
the guilty man and put the handcuffs
on him.”
“Is that all?” sighed Thatcher Colt,
as he dropped back into his chair. cal.
“You remember the package wrapped “The muffler is the real clue,” he said.
in red ribbon and white paper?” “If we could only find Maskell.”
“The muffler that was a Christmas “The Police Commissioner’s office,
present?” however, will want to know what Geral¬
“Yes. That parcel came from a Fifth dine Foster did, where she went, and
Avenue haberdashery. Hogan traced with whom, from the moment she left
the sales slips and found the name of Washington Square on the afternoon
the purchaser. Is that quick work, or of December twenty-fourth until she
isn’t it?” died,” Colt stated crisply.
Dougherty’s eyes were glittering with “Maskell can tell you all that,” cried
triumph. Dougherty. “Why don’t you find him?”
“And the name was Humphrey Mas- Thatcher Colt stared at him earnestly.
kell,” supplemented Thatcher Colt “I know we can build a case against
softly. Maskell,” he conceded. “Most likely we
Dougherty glared at the Police Com¬ shall have to. But on the other
missioner. hand . . . Dougherty, stand by and let
“Who told you that?” he demanded. me finish the rest of the job. If Maskell
“There was a card attached to the is guilty, let’s cinch the case.”
package, signed by Doctor Maskell, and “If Maskell were under surveillance,
wishing one of his patients a Merry I wouldn’t mind delaying, but—”
Christmas.” “All right, Dougherty. Would you
Taking the card from his vest pocket, like to talk to him?” Colt turned to me.
the Commissioner tossed it on the “Tony, bring in Doctor Humphrey Mas¬
table. kell.”
“Is this what you call cooperation?” While Dougherty stared in dumb
shouted Dougherty. “Why didn’t you amazement, I led Maskell in.
tell us about that card ?” “Sit down, Doctor,” invited Thatcher
“Because I first wanted to find out Colt, after presenting him to the grim
what it meant,” answered Colt. Dougherty and to Hogan.
“It means that the doctor was on the The physician sank easily into a chair,
scene—and it probably means he is as and Colt began to question him. “You
guilty as hell!” know that Geraldine Foster is dead?”
Thatcher Colt lifted a deprecating “I heard some talk while I was wait¬
hand. ing outside. I gather that she was mur¬
“Perhaps he is. At least there is dered, poor girl! Will you tell me how
more evidence besides your muffler to she was killed and where she was
point that way.” found?”
“For instance?” snapped Dougherty. “Do you know anything about it.”
The door opened to admit an attend¬ “No—certainly, no!”
ant, who spread out on a side table the “Haven’t you any suspicions?”
damp prints of the official photographs “None,” answered the doctor heartily.
taken at the grave and in the house. “Where have you been since I talked
Thatcher Colt stood beside Dougherty, to you in your office?”
his hand on the shoulder of his impetu¬ “Traveling in the West. Since I re¬
ous friend, as they studied those grisly turned, two days ago, I have been visit¬
scenes. ing my father in Scarsdale. Tonight I
“Dougherty,” said Colt, “I am begin¬ returned home and found a detective
ning to believe this is a crime far more who told me I should come here, that
awful than we have for one instant sup¬ something had happened.”
posed. We must not be in a hurry.” “Can you account for your time since
“Tell me what you have found out,” your return?”
proposed Dougherty. “Surely. I arrived in town early
 ANTHONY ABBOT 141
Thursday morning and went to my of¬ asked Colt. “A hide-away for week¬
fice. All day I was busy with my pa¬ ends that required privacy?”
tients. But about three o’clock in the Doctor Maskell shook his head.
afternoon, I received a telephone call “No. I hope that you do not as¬
that gave me the shock of my life. Mr. sume—”
Colt”—Doctor Maskell’s voice vibrated “I am not assuming anything, Doctor
with conviction—“I talked with Geral¬ Maskell,” Colt assured him. “Did you
dine Foster.” ever take Geraldine Foster to that
“Oeeraldine Foster!” place?”
Dougherty’s voice was a shout of “Absolutely never,” said Doctor Mas¬
surprise. We were all astonished. kell.
“She said it was, and it sounded like “Did she know of its existence?”
her voice,” the doctor added calmly. “I don’t think so.”
“But the connection was bad.” “Doctor,” suddenly barked the Com¬
“Go on,” urged Colt. “What hap¬ missioner, “do you realize that you are
pened?” in a nasty fix?”
“She informed me she was in some Maskell drew himself up with dignity.
terrible trouble, but she could not tell “Will you tell me what my property
me about it over the telephone, so she on Peddler’s Road has to do with all
begged me to come to her at once. She this ?”
asked me to meet her at the entrance of “Did you keep an ax on that place? A
Bronx Park on the Pelham Parkway. short-handled ax, with a double blade.”
I drove out there alone, waited two “Why, yes, I did. For firewood.”
hours, and saw nothing of her. Then I “Someone used it for something else.
came home.” Doctor Maskell, Geraldine Foster was
“Did anybody who knew you see you hacked to pieces in your house with
there?” asked Colt. your ax.”
“Nobody, I am sorry to say.” Doctor Maskell leaped to his feet.
“And when was this?” “This is a trick!” he shouted. “You
“This was Thursday last, in the after¬ are trying to scare me!”
noon.” Colt thrust near the man’s face a
“The time she was murdered!” thun¬ photograph still wet, showing the girl’s
dered Dougherty. “And that is your nude body stiff in the grave. The doc¬
alibi?” tor stared at the print.
“You knew the police were looking “Poor Geraldine,” he muttered. He
for Geraldine Foster,” Colt resumed. swung on the Commissioner. “Who was
“Why didn’t you tell me about that the monster that would commit a crime
telephone call?” like that—and in my little house?”
“I wanted to talk with her first.” “Never mind that,” snapped Colt.
Dougherty snorted and winked at “You must realize now that you have
Hogan. Colt veered to another tack. a lot to explain.”
“Doctor, you have an office in Wash¬
“When was she killed?” demanded
ington Square, and an apartment on Doctor Maskell.
Fifth Avenue. Do you rent or own any
other property?” “I am asking the questions, Doctor.”
“A good deal.” He enumerated some “It does not matter. I’ll prove my
farming land he owned in upper New innocence.”
Yory State, a house on the West Side “If you can do that, fine—in the face
which he rented, and a fishing shack on of what we can bring against you.”
the eastern shore of Maryland. “Nevertheless,” cried Doctor Maskell,
“But you and I both know you also “you will be unable to bring a single
have a bungalow on Peddler’s Road?” witness to place me on the scene of the
“Right you are,” Maskell admitted. murder! And surely someone will come
“I guessed you knew when I saw Mrs. forward to bear me out that I waited
Haberhorn. But why do you bring that at the entrance to Bronx Park for a girl
up?” I believed to be alive!”
As he was speaking, the door was
I NOTICED a note of anxiety was in
his voice.
opening for a patrolman who stamped
in with a sheaf of notes.
“What did you use that house for?” “Just a moment,” Colt murmured.
142 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
“These are the reports from the eight of a genius, Doctor Maskell—only it
autopsies.” didn’t work.”
“Eight!” exclaimed Dougherty. “Bunk!” snorted Doctor Maskell.
“One girl, and seven pigeons.” ex¬ “Don’t you see that only a feeble-minded
plained Colt. “Ah, and here is Doctor person would think of such a scheme
Multooler.” as that? The alibi would be no good
The Assistant Medical Examiner nod¬ for the murderer for the last forty-eight
ded wearily. hours, unless he had an accomplice.
“How long had those pigeons been Somebody had to go up there and bury
dead, Multooler?” the body. He was on the scene! So
“At least ten days,” replied the As¬ such an alibi would be worthless to me
sistant Medical Examiner. or any one else. Christmas Eve I was
“The girl was supposed to be dead distributing gifts to my patients, accom¬
two days but the pigeons were dead ten panied by my chauffeur and little Doris
days, eh?” Morgan, who lives upstairs. For Christ¬
“Well, we don’t suppose that, any mas Eve I have a perfect alibi.”
more. Somebody tried to fool us. The “Good!” Thatcher Colt said emphat¬
girl also was killed about ten days ago.” ically. “You have the rest of the night
Thatcher Colt did not look at Doctor to prove it.”
Maskell.
“Was there any food in her
stomach?”
A HAGGARD look crept across Mas-
kell’s face. He forced a chuckle of
“Snails.” defiance, confidence, or else malevolence.
About how far digested?” I could not tell whether he was brave or
“Not more than five hours.” cocksure.
“Then Geraldine Foster unquestion¬ “I have an alibi,” he repeated. “I
ably met her death about five o’clock on did not kill Geraldine Foster.”
the afternoon of December twenty- “Just tell the truth,” said Thatcher
four,” Colt declared feelingly. “Thanks, Colt.
Multooler. What did the chemist find Hogan seized the doctor by the arm.
in that bottle of water we took from the “Step lively,” he said. “There’s a gang
grave?” waiting for you downstairs.”
“Tannic acid. The body had been Hogan led him hurriedly away.
soaked in it, and a quart of it forced “A hundred to one that fellow breaks
down the throat after death.” before morning,” said Dougherty.
“Tannic acid! Of course! Made from But Thatcher Colt only smiled.. . .
the bark of trees! Used in tanning Doctor Maskell was not under arrest,
leather, Dougherty. That’s what pre¬ although there was more than sufficient
served the body!” evidence to hold him under a short affi¬
Colt dismissed Multooler. davit, or to jail him as a material
“It is simple,” he explained to the witness.
District Attorney. “Geraldine Foster Hogan led the suspect downstairs to
was killed. Then she was put into a a brightly lighted office, where a battal¬
bathtub filled with water loaded with ion of questioners awaited him. The
tannic acid and that preserved the attack upon him began at once, launch¬
body.” ed by three of the most experiencd men
“But why preserve the body?” in the Department. But the dark hours
“It seems obvious enough. She was passed and a calm man, with ready
killed ten days ago, but she was buried answers, still faced the onslaught of
in the last forty-eight hours.” investigators, grimly intent on a break¬
“I see!” cried Dougherty. Pushing down.
back his chair, he stood up, striding At three a.m., when Thatcher Colt,
back and forth. “It was a slick alibi. Dougherty and I joined them, they had
We are supposed to believe the murder got nowhere. They could not seem to
took place during the last forty-eight break this man’s iron nerve. Maskell
hours. And, of course, the murderer had answered all their questions over
hoped to account for his movements. and over again and not once had they
He thought he would never be asked to tripped him. True, he had a higher de¬
show where he was when the murder gree of mentality than most of his ques¬
was really committed. This is the crime tioners, but they had the strength of
numbers, of reserve force. First, one de¬ tor Maskell retell his story, the oldest
tective would question him for fifteen and one of the most effective devices
minutes, then another would begin, known to police—the trapping effect of
while the first checked up on any doubt¬ repetition. Make the suspect tell the
ful information the doctor had given same story often enough, in wearying
him. repetition, until he is sick of the very
During the night at least a dozen lies that he is telling, and eventually he
detectives, from the Deputy Inspector lets fall some significant little detail
down, asked the man questions. At five which may break his story altogether.
o’clock, when they gave Maskell a glass Colt tried to reach Maskell from a
of milk and a sandwich, his story was different angle.
still unbroken. It was one of the most “Do you believe in justice, Doctor
desperate attempts to break down a Maskell?”
denial in my experience in the Depart¬ “Yes,” he replied.
ment. “And do you want to see justice done
Outside the door of the examination in this case?”
room, two newspaper men were playing “Certainly. But what is justice?”
seven-up. When we led Doctor Maskell Thatcher Colt then told him he was
out of the office to the washroom, one overbearing and conceited, that most
of the reporters remarked that the doc¬ people disliked him. That did begin to
tor appeared to be standing the ordeal get under the suspect’s skin. Maskell
of grilling much better than his tor¬ never had been unpopular. The dislike
mentors. of people affected him painfully.
We took him back, and the Commis¬ “If you want to know how you stand,”
sioner took charge. the Commissioner told him, “let me call
Betty Canfield in here. She will tell you
VII quickly enough. She believes you chop¬
ped up that beautiful girl with an ax.
FIRST, Thatcher Colt reasoned with Maskell paled, but made no answer.
Doctor Maskell. Over and over he took Dougherty, springing forward, shook
him through his story, but Maskell his finger in the doctor’s face and cried:
stuck to it without the slightest signifi¬ “Doctor, you are going to be electro¬
cant change. At six o’clock in the morn¬ cuted, because you’re guilty! So why
ing, he was still far from being a broken don’t you take your medicine like a
man. His energy was equal to Thatcher man?”
Colt’s restless vitality. Finally, Dough¬ Doctor Maskell stood up and began
erty whispered to Colt, and the Com¬ pacing around. But he was still in
missioner nodded. thorough command of himself, though
“Now, Doctor,” proposed Dougherty, he looked weary when a new detail of
“I want you to come with me.” detectives came in to take over the job
In the dark hours of that morning, of questioning him. At dawn, they were
Dougherty, Colt, Doctor Humphrey still at it, and the doctor was undaunted.
Maskell and I drove to the morgue, at I was transcribing my notes when
Bellevue Hospital. There the doctor the sleepless Captain Henry came in
was confronted with the body. He with the astonishing announcement that
could not remain unmoved. He betrayed some indignant kinfolk of Doctor Mas¬
signs of nervousness and repulsion. But kell were demanding to see the Com¬
who could say they- were indications of missioner at once. They were Mr. and
fear or guilt? Mrs. George Maskell, the criminal law¬
Finally the police brought him back yer and his wife.
to the examination room, after the Ever since my reporting days on the
night’s inquisition, but secretly they Sun I had known George Maskell and
marveled at the undaunted vitality of had admired him for the good-hearted
their prisoner. buccaneer that he was. The brother of
Detectives were checking up on all he the man we suspected of murder trained
had told. Colt had a whispered confer¬ with a clever group of skeptical think¬
ence with Dougherty, and a messenger ers, considered himself a sophisticate,
was dispatched to the doctor’s offices. while being naive and sentimental en¬
But Thatcher Colt was not ready to ough to believe that the oppressed and
give up. Again and again he made Doc¬ the downtrodden had rights.
144 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
George Maskell was one of the most One could not resist the gentle and
picturesque figures in New York. Al¬ earnest manner of Natalie Maskell. I
ready a rich lawyer, and half-heir to his do not regard myself as impressionable,
father’s considerable fortune, he es¬ but it did seem my duty to let Thatcher
poused all causes where an issue of Colt know they were in his office. I was
justice was involved. This had not about to buzz for Captain Henry when
made him too popular in the Police my chief came in, with Dougherty,
Department, although Thatcher Colt blotched-eyed and weary, trudging be¬
always admired George Maskell. hind him. I could tell from the slump of
As the lawyer was ushered into Colt’s the District Attorney’s shoulders that
private office, I was reminded of my Maskell had not confessed.
chief’s description of him—“an old war There was an exchange of greetings,
horse.” He was a short man, with a then George Maskell demanded to see
bald head, a shrewd face, wrinkles of his brother.
thought in his forehead and furrows in “Now, George, you know we can’t
his cheeks. Only in his eyes was there do that just now,” protested Dougherty.
a likeness to his brother. I noticed the Climbers like Dougherty like to call
same twinkle, or gleam of inscrutability famous men like George Maskell by
in those hazel eyes. their first names.
My eyes turned from his familiar “Why not?”
face to study his companion. That was “Doctor Maskell is not under arrest,”
the first time I had ever seen Natalie explained Thatcher Colt. “But he is
Maskell, though I had read of her, and being questioned.”
had listened to reporters tell of her. The “Humphrey is innocent of any crime,”
one thing agreed upon in all quarters declared Maskell, “and I would appre¬
was that Natalie Maskell, in spite of her ciate it if you would let him know we
beauty, had one of the best legal minds are here.”
before the bar. She and her husband Thatcher Colt looked the lawyer
were inseparable. squarely in the eye.
“I have always understood,” he said,
S HE WAS tall, pale and august—a “that you did not approve of your
woman with dark-red hair, lovely brother!”
features, and tragic eyes. I do not think “In a time like this, blood is thicker
I have ever seen a sadder or more than water,” replied Maskell.
beautiful woman. Natalie Maskell took an impulsive
She looked around inquiringly, and step forward.
I explained that I feared it was impos¬ “May we leave him a note, at least ?”
sible to see either the Police Commis¬ she asked.
sioner or the District Attorney. Nod¬ Dougherty bowed, and her husband
ding sagely, George Maskell said con¬ scribbled hastily on a scratch pad:
fidently : W« are standing behind you. Send for us when
“Nevertheless, they’ll see me. Tell
the Commissioner I’ve come here to sit George and Natalie and Dad
alongside my brother while he is being Thatcher Colt seemed nervous. He
questioned.” walked up and down the room, like a
“Did Doctor Maskell send for you?” man possessed with impatience. Sud¬
I inquired. denly he reached on a high shelf and
George Maskell looked at his wife pulled down two file boxes of old corre¬
with eyes that seemed to hold a conver¬ spondence, raising a cloud of dust. He
sation in a secret language. It seemed was full of apologies, but Dougherty’s
to me that George had conveyed to his face was discolored with dust, and Mrs.
wife the suggestion that she, better Maskell needed to repair the damages.
than he, could prevail over an impres¬ “I found it!” exclaimed Colt, after
sionable young man. opening the first file box. “Here is a
“No, my brother-in-law did not send letter of congratulation I wrote you, Mr.
for us,” she explained, with a friendly Maskell, on the Scopes trial. You never
smile. “Mr. Maskell and I were starting replied to it.”
this morning to drive to Florida. We “Careless of me,” said George Mas¬
heard about Doctor Maskell’s difficulty kell, with a bleak glance.
over the radio and came right back.” The curious behavior of the Police
 ANTHONY ABBOT 145
Commissioner had perplexed us all. But called the Commissioner, taking his
there was no further apology from place beside the child and motioning me
Colt, as with great dignity, the Maskells to a folding seat.
took their departure. “Good mornings and good nights and
The minute the door closed, Dougher¬ good fellows and good gods,” said
ty exclaimed: Checkles. His head bent over the
“What a trial this will be! But I will wheel and he pushed the horn button
beat him, Colt. This is one time that with his long, peaked nose.
all the genius of George Maskell won’t Doris laughed.
cheat justice.” “Isn’t Checkles funny?” she asked
“Oh, stop making speeches,” said Thatcher Colt. “He always blows the
Thatcher Colt. horn with his nose.”
Hogan threw open the door and led The Commissioner nodded, as he
Doctor Maskell into the office, haggard, drew a slip of paper from his pocket,
disheveled, but his eyes were still in¬ and read off the names and addresses
domitable. of the patients of Doctor Maskell to
“Did I see my brother down the whom, the suspect had declared, he and
hall?” he demanded, looking at Colt. Doris and Checkles had delivered the
The Commissioner told him frankly presents.
what had happened. “You were with the doctor every
“I would have liked at least a glimpse part of the time on Christmas Eve?”
of Natalie,” said the doctor. Commissioner Colt asked the child.
“Come to this window,” said Colt. “Yes, sir, every part,” said Doris.
“There she is at the wheel of their car.” “Now,” continued Colt, “you went
For a thoughtful moment, Doctor first to Patchin Place. Is that right?”
Humphrey Maskell stared down at his “Yes, certainly,” replied the doctor.
sister-in-law. Some powerful emotion Colt gave Checkles his orders and
possessed him. I wondered—did the immediately we started in the direction
doctor love the beautiful Natalie? Was of Greenwich Village. There was no
it because of her that the brothers had conversation during that journey, until
quarreled? we reached the narrow impasse behind
the Jefferson Market Court, where ar¬
T HEN came the suspicion—could a tists and poets live in the little red
woman have committed this awful brick houses, rejoicing in the air of an¬
crime? Was Natalie Maskell jealous of other century that hovers over the
Geraldine Foster? place.
“Now,” said Thatcher Colt, suddenly “Doris,” said Thatcher Colt, “do you
breaking the silence, “I have made some remember anything about your last
arrangements for our morning, Doctor. visit here?”
There is another car downstairs, in “Oh, yes,” said the child. “We
which you will find some of your brought a parcel to an old lady who lives
friends. We are going on a journey.” in that third house over there.”
Dougherty shook hands with my “Who delivered the package?”
chief, and he and Hogan departed. “The doctor rang the bell, and sent
We went out into the fresh air of me up to deliver it.
the young morning. Banks of rain “How long did that take?”
clouds were massing; the air was damp “Oh, not more than a second or so.
and cold. The doctor had so many other places to
In front of Headquarters a maroon- go. I was awful tired by the time we
colored car was drawn up at the curb, got home.”
with that strange little fellow Checkles As we started off again, Colt asked
at the wheel. In the rear seat was a Mrs. Morgan:
woman and a child—Felise Morgan, and “You were a close friend of Geraldine
little Doris, Doctor Maskell’s alibi. Love Foster?”
and tenderness were in Doctor Maskell’s "Oh, no. Doris and Geraldine met in
eyes when he looked at Doris. I think the halls. The doctor took a fancy to
the sight of her unmanned him. He Doris, and soon we all got to know each
caught her to him sis she rose with a other. . . .”
squeal of joy and kissed him. We fully understood the weariness of
“Hello, Doris! Hello, Checkles!” little Doris on Christmas Eve before we
 146 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
had finished our itinerary. In and out gerous implications of this disclosure.
of crowded New York streets we drove, Thatcher Colt had his finger on the first
while Checkles pushed the horn button weak link in the chain of Doctor Mas-
with his nose, and heaped maledictions kell’s alibi.
on taxi drivers and pedestrians who “What were you doing, Doctor, when
tempted death under our wheels. From they were in the confectioner’s?” he
house to house we drove, from a broker asked point-blank.
in East Twelfth Street, to an actor who “I distributed seven presents in the
lived at the Chelsea Hotel. neighborhood,” replied the doctor
Farther north, our journey was con¬ promptly.
fined largely to the West Side. When “That’s right,” said Doris innocently.
we stopped in front of the Sherman “We had to wait for him a long, long
Square Hotel, Doctor Maskell reminded time.”
us that it had been just three o’clock I could almost see the lightning of
on Christmas Eve afternoon when he suspicion flashing across the stormy
had been there before. He knew be¬ sky of the Commissioner’s thoughts.
cause he had been wondering if he Geraldine had gone to the house on
would be able to complete his trip be¬ Peddler’s Road. From there she might
fore it was time for Doris to be home. have telephoned Mrs. Westock. She
The doorman knew the doctor, who would know all the places the doctor
often called to visit a patient in the was planning to visit, and how to reach
hotel. The doorman recalled Doctor him. He might have left Checkles and
Maskell asking the time, and that it was Doris and rushed off to kill her and
three o’clock. get back. Such at least was the theory
At the next place we stopped, a small suggested by this gap in the doctor’s
hotel apartment house near Central itinerary.
Park, the patient to whom Doctor Mas¬ And still the doctor smiled, as if he
kell had delivered a present there was a knew there was still something miss¬
Mrs. Westock. She told the Commis¬ ing, before they could bind him to the
sioner that, on Christmas Eve, before crime.
the doctor reached her house, someone “There are only seven more addresses
had called on her telephone and asked on your list,” remarked Colt. “Can any¬
for the physician. one identify you as having delivered
“It was a woman’s voice,” said Mrs. these seven presents?”
Westock. “She seemed anxious to get “No. I was hurried. I merely dropped
word to him. The message she left was: them on hall tables. I saw no one.”
‘Please come at once to Peddler’s Road. “Yet you took an hour to deliver
Something terrible has happened.’ She them?”
did not leave any name. When I told “I do not know how much time I
him he looked surprised, but all he said took.”
was ‘Thanks’.” “Well, you must know this blows your
alibi to smithereens.”
D OCTOR Maskell did not hear this, Colt sent Mrs. Morgan and Doris
for he had remained in the car, home in a taxi. Burke went with them.
with Detective Burke guarding the par¬ “Checkles,” said the Commissioner,
ty. Colt did not tell the doctor. “drive us up to the house on Peddler’s
On Park Avenue, we stopped in front Road.”
of a large apartment house. Checkles laughed, a low-pitched chor¬
“Oh,” exclaimed Doris, “here is tle.
where I had the ice cream! Checkles “Peddler’s Road!” he chuckled.
and I had ice cream while Doctor Mas¬ “Whew!”
kell delivered some presents by him¬ I have seen a guilty man look upon
self.” She pointed to a confectioner’s the scene of a crime, and remain quite
on the opposite corner. unmoved. I have also seen an innocent
“Did you have more than one plate?” man go into hysterics at the sight of a
asked Thatcher Colt. butchered body and actually confess to
“Three!” cried Checkles gloatingly. the crime. In a sufficient number of in¬
“I had three! But Doris took only one.” stances, a criminal cannot endure to
I could follow the rapid calculations look again upon his work.
Colt was making. I could see the dan¬ But it was not with any hope of un-
 ANTHONY ABBOT 147
nerving the doctor by horror, that “Where were you, then, when
Thatcher Colt was taking him back to Checkles and Doris were eating their
Peddler’s Road. My chief had the idea ice cream?”
that some sentimental remembrance “I told you.”
might unexpectedly upset Maskell’s “You told me a cock-and-bull story.
poise. Do you expect any jury to believe
VIII that?”
Instead of replying the doctor was
E VERY path approaching Peddler’s looking mournfully around the room ...
Road had been roped off and put under Colt sent me home to snatch a few
guard, and crowds of the morbidly curi¬ hours’ sleep. But after bathing and
ous strained against the ropes around shaving I had tea with Betty Canfield.
the base of the hill. Inside, reporters Every time we met we liked each other
were snooping, and it seemed as if there better.
were plainclothes men and patrolmen It was five o’clock when I reached
behind every tree. The search for clues the Commissioner’s office where I found
was still going forward relentlessly. Thatcher Colt in deep conversation with
We climbed the hill, and as we ap¬ Dougherty. Neither the District Attor¬
proached the house, Thatcher Colt said: ney nor my chief had been in their beds
“You know, Doctor, the body had a since the case “broke.”
pillow-case over the head, as if the From their conversation, I learned
murderer could not bear to look upon that Doctor Maskell had been permitted
the dead face, after what he had done.” a few hours’ sleep in his apartment,
“Yes?” said Doctor Maskell, in a tone with a policeman guarding his doors.
of inquiry. Bruce Foster had returned to Head¬
“It was a pillow-case with rosebuds quarters and had given Colt a complete
embroidered on it. I could not find its statement of his movements. The de¬
mate in your bungalow. Do you hap¬ tails had been checked and seemed to
pen to know what happened to the other exonerate him from suspicion. The Dis¬
one?” trict Attorney declared that Armstrong,
“I know nothing of that,” replied too, was above suspicion. But Thatcher
Doctor Maskell disdainfully. Colt did not agree.
The doctor removed his hat as he en¬ “There is a theory that may involve
tered the door of his little house, pro¬ Armstrong,” he declared.
foundly moved. He looked at the dis¬ “Why don’t you spill it to me?” de¬
order, and at the detectives still search¬ manded Dougherty.
ing, and looked miserably upon the “Because you would disbelieve in it
wreckage, the carnage, the stains. so much you might block me,” said
“You can see, Doctor,” said Thatcher Colt. “No—give us the rest of this
Colt quietly, “that a great deal of blood day, Dougherty.”
was spilled. Isn’t it extraordinary, how “I promised,” sighed Dougherty.
much blood there is in a human body, “And while I have all the evidence in
Doctor Maskell ? Your dissection prac¬ the world to justify the arrest of Mas¬
tice partly prepared you for that, of kell, I’ll live up to my word. The doc¬
course, but when you start to let it tor is guilty. Why don’t you let me go
run out of a living person, there’s a lot ahead?”
of it, isn’t there? Like a red Niagara “I believe,” replied Colt, “that before
coming from sweet young veins and midnight, you will agree that there is
arteries.” something much more surprising yet to
“Thatcher Colt,” said Doctor Mas¬ be found.
kell, “I have to listen to you, but my “All right,” Dougherty growled.
mind cannot be shocked into a break¬ “Where do we go from here?”
down, or a fake confession.” Thatcher Colt stood up, smiling.
“No,” agreed Colt. “But I do know “To the home of the Police Commis¬
one thing—that reason is the certain sioner of the City of New York,” he
method that can appeal to you. Doc¬ said. “To get the truth out of Hum¬
tor, you know there is a perfect case phrey Maskell.”
against you.” Colt’s proposal seemed incomprehen¬
“No. I had no opportunity to do all sible. Why should we have to examine
this.” Doctor Maskell in the home of Thatcher
148 ABOUT THE MURDER F GERALDINE FOSTER
Colt, the Commissioner? Why not “A what, Mr. Commissioner?” he
at Police Headquarters, where we eould purred, as if he regretted the absence
have information, check-ups? of an audience to laugh at his comedy.
But we left the office and soon were “A lie detector,” said Colt.
uptown. Dougherty laughed uproariously.
The Commissioner lived in a house “Have you fallen for that piffle ?” he
in the West Seventies. There were cried. “Well, you’ll have to show me.”
flower boxes before the windows, and “Very well,” said Thatcher Colt.
bright green paint on the wookwork. He opened a door in the rear of the
It was more like a house in some dozing room and a good-looking young man,
little Southern city than in the heart slender and serious, entered.
of Manhattan. “Let me present Mr. Carl E. Leonard,
an assistant state criminologist for Il¬
WErunning
were led to the library, a room
the entire stretch of the
linois, and one of the recognized experts
in this line. Mr. Leonard flew here at
third floor, and shelving a collection my request so we could go through
of more than fifteen thousand books on with this test.”
crime and related topics, more than “It’s childish,” said Dougherty frank¬
half of which would not be found to¬ ly. "No one has ever really taken that
gether in any ordinary library in the thing seriously.
world. Waving us to comfortable The young expert from Chicago only
chairs, Thatcher Colt retired. smiled and nodded as if he understood
Dougherty and Hogan looked around the District Attorney’s skepticism. Colt
in bewilderment. Their very glances pressed a knob on the edge of the chair
seemed to say that Thatcher Colt could which registered a signal in some dis¬
not be a practical man. Presently, the tant part of the house. Soon the door
Commissioner reappeared, wearing a was opened and two uniformed men
dressing gown of a flowered paduasoy. led in Doctor Maskell.
From a recess in the library wall he With the wraith of his familiar smile
drew out a tray on which reposed glass¬ playing over his pale and haggard face,
es, and a bottle of old port. He called Doctor Maskell glanced at the table on
our attention to a filmy crust of scales which the lie detector lay exposed.
of tartar on the top, the beeswing of “Do you know what that is?” asked
a rare old wine. Colt.
“There is not much wine like this,” “Yes, certainly,” said Doctor Maskell,
he said. “Gentlemen, your health!” with magnificent indifference. Was he
That precious liquor warmed the in¬ such an egoist that he felt confident he
ner lining of my soul. could beat the machine?
Leaning back in his chair, Thatcher It took little time to adjust the ap¬
Colt said: paratus to his chest and bared arm,
“I must begin by explaining that this as he sat in his shirt sleeves. Then
is wholly an extra-legal proceeding. I Thatcher Colt began asking again the
must also make that clear to Maskell. same questions with which Maskell had
He has the right to decline to have been battered for so long. For an hour
anything to do with these experiments.” Colt talked calmly about the same old
“What kind of bunk have you fallen story, but after that first hour, the tone,
for, Colt?” Dougherty asked. the pace, the accent of the questions
‘‘Two things,” replied the Commis¬ changed. Colt’s voice became brittle,
sioner. “The first is this!” harsh, commanding. He stood tower¬
On a table was an object covered ing above the doctor, as the very air of
with a green cloth. Lifting this, Colt the room became tense and charged.
disclosed a drumlike electrical instru¬ “What are you most afraid of in life,
ment. Doctor Maskell?”
“What is that?” mocked Dougherty “I am afraid of nothing.”
quizzically. “What are you most ashamed of in
“A pneumo-cardio-sphygmometer,” your life?”
answered Thatcher Colt. We could almost hear the agitation
Dougherty blinked. He was a well- of the electric pens, recording the heart
educated man, but had cultivated a pub¬ and blood secrets of this erect and de¬
lic pose of roughness and readiness. fiant man.
 ANTHONY ABBOT 149
Both Dougherty and Colt were study¬ “No.”
ing the tapelike stream of paper emerg¬ The chart lines during these last few
ing from the drum with the telltale questions were quite unimpressive. The
graphs drawn upon them. Until this emotional excitement in the doctor
moment, the tracings had shown only seemed to pass away when Geraldine
indifferent variations. But the latest Foster was brought into the question.
question had caused tremendous excite¬ It was on some obscurer point that he
ment within the dark spirit of this trembled.
mysterious physician. “Do you believe that murder is ever
justified?”
U P SHOT the graph of the heart line “Yes. I believe in euthanasia. But
and with it leaped the diagram of I do not practice a philosophy opposed
the blood pressure. Why ? Doctor Mas¬ to the laws under which I live.”
ked pondered his answer, while the Po¬ “But doesn’t your philosophy hold
lice Commissioner and the District At¬ that murder is justified even if it is op¬
torney waited with growing interest. posed to those laws ?”
“What are you most ashamed of in “Theoretically, yes.”
your life?” repeated Thatcher Colt. “If sufficiently justifiable grounds
“Of nothing,” declared Doctor Mas¬ arose, would you commit murder in
ked, finally. But we knew from the lie spite of the laws?”
detector that he was laboring under “I don’t know.”
great excitement. “Why did you quarrel with your bro¬
“Come, Doctor,” urged Thatcher Colt ther George?”
patiently. “Are you ashamed of some¬ “Because he did not approve of my
thing in connection with the house on private life.”
Peddler’s Road?” “Did his wife also disapprove?”
Again the jiggle of emotions, traced “She did not know anything about
by the electric pens, showed that the it. What happened took place before
Commissioner had struck a sensitive she married my brother.”
vein in the doctor’s emotional system. “Does she dislike you now?”
“No,” he said. “She does not know me. We have
“Why did you keep that place on never met.”
Peddler’s Road?” “Will you look at this?”
With every reference to the little cot¬ Thatcher Colt for the first time gave
tage of blood and death the charts into Maskell’s hands the note which
leaped into high peaks of emotional ex¬ George Maskell had written that morn¬
citement and descended into valleys ing. The physician was plainly de¬
that might have recorded shame and lighted.
despair. “That’s the silver lining for all this,”
“I like to have a place to hide away he remarked, with unsteady voice.
“There is nothing to indicate she
“Alone?” doesn’t know you,” prodded Colt.
“Yes!” “No,” said Masked, smiling broadly.
The District Attorney was solemn “No—that’s what’s so wonderful about
and serious now, beginning to have it.”
some respect for this apparatus. Certainly, if the lie detector was to
“When were you last in the house on be trusted, the doctor was telling the
Peddler’s Road?” truth.
“About three weeks ago.” “Your brother is a clever lawyer,”
“Anyone with you then?” resumed Colt, “but how do you intend
“No.” to explain to him the lies you have
“Had Geraldine Poster ever been been telling me—about your where¬
there ?” abouts on Christmas Eve? You know
“I have no knowledge that she was you have concealed the truth about
ever there.” that.”
“But she was murdered there.” “I do not conceal the truth.”
“I mean previously.” “You did not deliver those seven
“Did you know she was going there presents while Checkles and the child
this one time which resulted in her were eating ice cream. No one at the
death ?” addresses you supplied can remember
150 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
your delivering them. Where were “I am not,” he answered firmly. “I
you?” have a small private fortune, and I am
‘‘I was where I said I was—delivering heir to one-half of my father’s estate
those presents!” which will make me something like a
millionaire.”
A LL passivity of the chart vanished Thatcher Colt hesitated. Judging by
when the ice cream episode was the lie detector, he was on a cold trail.
mentioned. We had an almost unmis¬ He decided to try a new tack.
takable accusation that Maskell was “Have you any explanation for the
lying. fact that Geraldine Foster’s coat and
“You know that your insistence on purse were found in your office, days
this falsehood, which even this machine after the murder?”
proclaims, subjects you to the gravest “No, but if I had murdered her,
suspicions?” would I have left them there?”
“Unjustly so.” “Have you formed any theory in your
“Had you quarreled with Geraldine?” mind as to who that woman was—the
“No—except about her marriage.” woman whose face you never did fully
“She hadn’t tried to obtain money see, and who came to your office door
from you?” late in the afternoon of the murder?”
“Blackmail? Why, of course not." “No.”
Colt pulled the paper ribbon over far “Could it have been Betty Canfield?”
enough for the doctor to see it. “No.”
“Look at that graph and admit that “Could it have been any of your pa¬
you lied, Doctor Maskell.” tients ?”
“You’re showing yourself guilty as “I don’t think so.”
hell!” roared Dougherty. The chart rose and fell with palpita¬
Doctor Maskell shrugged and lit a tions of manifest concern.
cigarette. “I repeat—could it have been one of
‘‘What are your next questions?” he your patients?”
demanded. “I tell you that Geraldine “No,” Maskell answered deliberately.
Foster was above trying to blackmail But by the machine we knew again that
anybody.” the doctor was not being honest with
Thatcher Colt had been holding back
the evidence of the blackmail note, res¬ “Suppose,” Colt said, “that you were
cued from the waste paper. At the trial in love with a woman whose name you
it might easily seal the doctor’s doom. are protecting.”
“Why do you suppose Geraldine told The telltale chart told that the doctor
Betty Canfield she wished she was dead was in emotional agitation.
and that she might soon be dead?” “Suppose,” went on Colt relentlessly,
“I don’t know.” “that you and she hid yourselves in the
“You told us you were surprised house on Peddler’s Road.”
about the bottle of tannic acid delivered Now the doctor’s graph was maniacal
to your office.” in its weird convolutions.
“I was.” “Suppose that Geraldine Foster had
“But you didn’t call up the chemist some hold on you, and you killed her
and ask him to explain?” to remove an obstacle. Would that be
“I did. I talked to his clerk, who told far from the truth, Doctor Maskell?”
me that Geraldine called up and said “No!” said Doctor Maskell. “No! I
I needed the stuff in a hurry. She or¬ did not kill Geraldine.”
dered several bottles, three of which “Where are the dead girl’s clothes?”
were left at my office.” demanded Thatcher Colt.
All this time the graph was as calm “I don’t know. I did not kill her.”
as the waves of a summer sea. No “Do you know that the refuse cleaned
sign of excitement in the doctor at all. from under Geraldine’s nails contained
“You don’t know if Geraldine was bits of small hair left after a recent
having a secret affair with anyone?” barbering, and that those hairs cor¬
“I do not. Nor do I believe it.” respond to your own ?”
“Are you in need of money, Doctor?” There was a wriggle of lines on the
Again came that flashing smile, un¬ chart, and the doctor gave a deep sigh.
forced and genuine. Dougherty sprang forward shouting:
 ANTHONY A330T 151
“Why did the murderer use an ax, his head and barked: “What makes
Doctor? Hacking away her life, and you think Maskell might be innocent?"
laying her naked In that shallow “This lie detector, for one thing.”
grave?” “Why, if it proves anything at all, it
proves his guilt!” howled Dougherty.
T HE LINE of the heart and blood “No, it proves merely that he lied,”
pressure showed no trace of excite¬ corrected Colt. “And look here—the
ment. Colt looked puzzled. But the reactions of Doctor Maskell to questions
District Attorney’s voice was trium¬ about the murder itself were negative.
phant. See, where we mentioned ax, blood,
“I’ll tell you why an ax was used!” body, grave—everything gruesome—
he bellowed. “You knew Burce Foster’s the chart remained normal.”
father had killed a man with an ax and “The fellow has himself in hand,
swung for it! You thought you could that’s all.”
throw the crime on him. Doctor Mas- “But no—at other questions he has
kell, isn’t it time for you to come not himself in hand at all. Every refer¬
through ?” ence to the house on Peddler’s Road, for
The doctor shrugged his shoulders instance, makes him nervous.”
and made no reply. Then Thatcher Colt “You caught him off his guard.”
interceded. Thatcher Colt shook his head.
“I would like the doctor to leave the “No, Dougherty. I went over the
room for a minute,” he said. “He needs same ground not once but several times.
a rest anyway.” Undoubtedly the doctor is hiding some¬
The District Attorney looked con¬ thing from us. I don’t think it would
founded. Certain that he was on the take a mind reader to guess it is a mys¬
point of getting a confession, he stared terious lady, whose very existence the
at Colt in indignation. physician is prepared to deny. Suppose
Then he saw the significant expres¬ that rather than involve her in the mat¬
sion in Colt’s eyes. ter, the gallant doctor has lied. He has
At a sign from Colt, the young man involved himself dangerously, yet he
from the West removed the plates and seems determined to go to the electric
tubes and covered up the lie detector. chair, rather than snitch.”
Two policemen led the doctor off, and Dougherty shook his head.
Leonard followed. “The house was a rendezvous, all
The moment we were alone, Dough¬ right, but the lady was Geraldine Fos¬
erty exploded. ter, and when Maskell got tired of her,
“Good God, Colt!” he cried. “You he chopped her up.”
shouldn’t have done that. We’ve clinch¬ “But just suppose it was another
ed this case now. Maskell is guilty!” woman. Then what?”
But Thatcher Colt shook his head. “Why should any man go to such pre¬
“We are making progress,” he con¬ posterous lengths to shield any woman?
ceded. “But we have still not reached Why not arrest Maskell here and now?”
our goal. We must turn to a truth drug, Thatcher Colt gravely shook his head.
I’m afraid.” Out of a wall closet he brought a small
black bag which he placed on the table.
IX Then he had Doctor Humphrey Maskell
brought in again.
Dougherty ran his thick red Colt held out his hand.
hands through his mop of ruddy curls. “Doctor Maskell,” he exclaimed, “if
His eyes rolled upward, and he swore. you are a murder, you are a wonder.
“More bunk!” he moaned. “Are you You have shown colossal nerve to sub¬
out of your senses, Colt? We have a mit to this examination. Is your nerve
case against that Maskell fellow now— still good?”
one that will convince any twelve men “What is it now?” asked the doctor,
you pick. The guy is just about ready the contempt again coming into his
to kick in and then you—” tone. “The trial by fire and water, like
“Suppose Maskell is innocent?” said the ancient savages? Or divination by
Colt. birds? Or what?”
“Innocent as Cain! Innocent as Jack “A truth drug,” said Colt.
the Ripper!” Dougherty thrust forward “Why should I subject myself to a
132 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
drug?” the doctor snapped. ‘‘I think I —when I saw that Geraldine was really
have been too acquiescent. I’m fed up.” missing.”
“Correct,” Colt admitted. “You are “What did Geraldine threaten?”
not compelled to do what I ask. “To expose a beautiful love—drag it
“Do you think that District Attorney through the courts—blacken the name
Dougherty would be convinced if I of the one I love.”
maintained my innocence under the “Who is that?”
influence of the drug?” Maskell asked “I—won’t—answer—that.”
mockingly. “How did Geraldine Foster know
“I’ll try anything once,” declared about your wife?”
Dougherty. “I don’t know.”
Suddenly Doctor Maskell stood up, Thatcher Colt came back to that sen¬
took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, sitive spot in the doctor’s mind.
and bared his heavily muscled arm. “Why are you so stubborn about
“Let’s go,” he said. where you spent the time when Check-
After the needle was plunged into the les and Doris were eating their ice
doctor’s arm and he was stretched out cream?”
on a couch in Thatcher Colt’s library, “Because I will not drag her into it.”
he spoke without any reserve whatever. “Who?”
He was utterly relaxed. His eyes were ‘ ‘I—won’t—answer—that. ’ ’
closed. His breathing was deep and Thatcher Colt gave Dougherty a swift
regular. His voice gradually sank into glance, and the two men bent low.
a monotone, like the murmur of a sick “Why were you with her?”
person talking in a fevered sleep. “I was not with her. I was'waiting
“Doctor, did you kill Geraldine Fos¬ for her. It looked like an attempt had
ter?” been made to trap us.”
“I did not.” “Tell me.”
“Did you hate Geraldine Foster?” “Mrs. Westock said I was wanted at
“No.” the house on Peddler’s Road.”
“Did you love her?” “Yes. Well?”
“No.” “It seemed strange to me. The lady
“Did you have any reason to kill —I very deeply adore and respect—do
Geraldine Foster?” you understand that?”
“Yes.” Colt said, in a voice full of conviction:
We all leaned forward as the doctor “I fully understand that, Doctor.”
made that confession. Thatcher Colt’s “Well I called up the lady at her
brittle voice broke the silence. home. Fortunately, she was alone. I
“What reason did you have to kill explained what had happened. She
her?” said she would come and meet me, and
“Because she threatened someone I told me of a note she had from Geral¬
love.” dine, demanding blackmail. But she did
“To whom did she threaten to betray not appear. Later I learned it was im¬
you?” possible for her to leave the house.”
“To my wife!” “And you spent the next hour waiting
W E LOOKED at each other in com¬
plete astonishment. I felt compas¬
for her?”
“I did. More than an hour.”
“In that time, you could have gone
sion for this strong man, who lay like to Peddler’s Road and committed the
a fevered child, telling on himself. But murder.”
Colt boldly shot the next questions. “I didn’t.”
“Your wife! How long have you been
“The lady will testify to these facts ?”
married?’
“Fourteen years.” “I will not permit her.”
“When did you separate?” “You would rather die than involve
“Ten years ago.” her?”
“You were not divorced?” “Undoubtedly.”
“No!” The voice of the doctor had “Don’t you realize, Doctor, that if
become very weary. “She will not give there is such a lady, the police will find
me a divorce. That was why I went her?”
away. To Reno. But I came back when “I do not have any fear of that.”
 ANTHONY ABBOT 153
"Do you believe your wife was laying the two police attendants carried the
that trap for you?’ unconscious prisoner out of the library.
"Perhaps.” Then Thatcher Colt faced Dougherty.
“Could she have killed Geraldine and “You think this was a crime of pas¬
tried to put it on you?” sion. It was not. It was a cold-blooded,
“She is cunning and cruel.” business proposition, and I do not be¬
"Do you know this key?” lieve that the murderer and the victim
Thatcher Colt placed in the doctor’s were even acquainted with each other.”
hands the key that had been found in “Colt, sometimes I think you are mad.”
Geraldine’s coat pocket. “Because I do not believe Maskell is
"Yes. It is the key to the house on guilty ?”
Peddler’s Road.” “He will bum before Thanksgiving,”
“How did Geraldine get hold of it?” predicted Dougherty.
"I don’t know.” “For heaven’s sake, listen to reason,
“Why was the pillow-case put over Dougherty. Maskell is as innocent as
her head?” you are. And if you give me time, I’ll
“I don’t know.” prove it and deliver the guilty person
“Was the pillow-case the property of into your hands.”
the lady you are protecting?” Dougherty put his hands on his hips.
“I don’t know.” “Colt,” he remonstrated, “I have been
“What is your wife’s full name and more patient with you than any man in
where does she live?” my position should be. But now I’m
There was no answer. At that mo¬ through. Maskell killed Geraldine Fos¬
ment, there came a hasty rapping on the ter, and he’s going to fry for it.”
door. I went to the door. As I opened “And what if I prove you wrong?”
it, Hogan burst past me and held in “I’ll be the first to apologize.”
front of him a filled pillow-case em¬ “But suppose Doctor Maskell has been
broidered with rosebuds—a duplicate of electrocuted by that time?”
the one found over the head of Geraldine The District Attorney shook his head
Foster. Hogan dramatically removed sadly.
the contents and held them up for in¬ “He’ll be electrocuted a long, long
spection. time before you or anybody else proves
They were the blood-stained clothes him innocent,” he retorted confidently.
of the murdered girl. “You’re through with this case now.
“Where did you get these?” asked Hogan will clear up the details for me
Colt crisply. and we’ll rush the case to trial.”
“In a closet in the office of Doctor Thatcher Colt folded his arms, and
Maskell,” said Hogan. said quietly:
“Now we’ll talk turkey!” exploded “Nevertheless, the Police Department
Dougherty. will go on with the work. It does not
regard this case as closed. Dougherty,
B UT COLT, even then tried to stay before you can convince me of the guilt
the determination of the District of Doctor Maskell, there are four ques¬
Attorney. tions you will have to answer.”
“Doctor Maskell has fallen asleep,” “And they are?”
he protested. “Why was Geraldine Foster killed
“This man killed Geraldine Foster! with an ax? Would it not have been
answered Dougherty. “Wake up, Mas¬ simpler to shoot her, poison her, instead
kell.” of all that blood-letting? Why was she
The District Attorney seized the stripped nude, after the murder? Why
sleeping doctor and shook him roughly. was the pillow-case over her head ? Who
Blearily, the prisoner opened his eyes was the mysterious woman the doctor
and peered up at his captor, who drew found at the door?’’
a document from his pocket. Dougherty laughed as he shook hands
“Doctor Maskell.” he said. “I arrest with Colt.
you for the murder of Geraldine Foster. "Come to the trial,” he shouted, “and
Here is the warrant!” you’ll hear the answer to all your ques¬
The doctor closed his eyes and fell tions. . . .”
instantly back into slumber. The midnight arrest of Doctor Hum¬
At 3 "’"gnal from the Commissioner, phrey Maskell, made in the home of the
 154 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
Police Commissioner, set the gapers Just as Colt had predicted, within a
frenzied with excitement. few hours the Grand Jury handed down
Unmoved by George Maskell’s denun¬ an indictment.
ciation of the methods of the District Promptly, the prisoner was taken to
Attorney, Dougherty appeared before the Homicide Court. There, with great
the grand jury the next morning, bring¬ dignity and assurance, he pleaded not
ing with him a parade of witnesses. On guilty to the indictment and waived
our way to lunch, Thatcher Colt and I examination. With that formality, Doc¬
passed by the closed door of the Grand tor Humphrey Maskell passed com¬
Jury room and my chief said in a low pletely out of the jurisdiction of the
voice: police, being taken over officially by the
“Observe the two old men at opposite Department of Correction, who put
sides of the door?” him into a cell in the Tombs.
I instantly recognized Edmund L. During his brief examination in
Foster, the father of the murdered girl. Homicide Court, with his brother and
But who was the other—the short, neat sister-in-law standing by his side, I saw
and feeble old gentleman with the walk¬ the doctor’s gaze roving over the crowd
ing stick and the gardenia in his button¬ in the court room, as if searching in
hole? vain for some well-beloved face. Was
“That is old Alexander Maskell, the he looking for a woman whose name
millionaire architect,” said my chief. he had refused to give, even when under
“The father of the victim, and the the influence of the truth drug ? Or was
father of the accused face each other there no such person—except the slain
at the grand jury’s door. Nice touch for Geraldine?
the tabloids.” The secret activities in the office of
Thatcher Colt, during the busy days
C OLT was not amused. As we has¬ that followed, are probably without
tened away he talked of his disa¬ parallel in the history of police pro¬
greement with the District Attorney. cedure.
“But think of the evidence,” I ven¬ So far as the public was concerned,
tured. Colt had solved the murder of Geraldine
“The Grand Jury will eat it up. That Foster. Yet, secretly, the Police Com¬
is what is the trouble with our Grand missioner of New York City set to
Jury system. There you have a bunch of work, bending all the energies of his
men, twenty-three of them, with sixteen Department to undermine the very case
constituting a quorum, and if only he had presented to the District Attor¬
twelve of these men think that Maskell ney, and to find, instead, the really
is guilty, they will vote a true bill, find guilty person.
an indictment, and leave a stain on his The police and the District Attorney,
character for the rest of his life. All the Grand Jury, and everyone connected
this, and remember, Tony, that only with the case were being complimented
one side will be heard by those grand by the newspapers. Everybody seemed
jurors. Almost always, Dougherty, or to expect the conviction of Doctor Mas¬
any other district attorney, can get the kell. By the man in the street he had
indictment he wants. already been condemned to the electric
“I know, and you know, that an in¬ chair.
dictment is not supposed to count After reading an interview which
against a man’s character. But it does, Dougherty had given the papers, the
just the same. The general public al¬ Commissioner laughed softly and said
ways believes the indicted man guilty to me:
and if he eventually is discharged, they “It is amazing what a convincing
generally think it was due to influence. case Dougherty had in his hands. But
Even if Maskell gets out of this, the he explains only one of the cardinal
indictment will ruin him. The Grand mysteries that I saw in the affair from
Jury acts upon a superficial knowledege the beginning—and I am convinced
of facts and little knowledge of the law: that his explanation is not the correct
And so, I am ashamed to say, in this one. Why was an ax use? Because,
particular case, does my old friend, says the District Attorney, Maskell
Dougherty. He is making an ass of wanted to throw suspicion on Bruce
himself, and a martyr out of Maskell.” Foster, whose father was hung for an
 ANTHONY ABBOT IBS
ax murder. If Geraldine dies, Bruce third. That probably was the night
gets twice as much inheritance, so Mas¬ of the strange burial. Well, we have
ked is supposed to have found even a two means of attack. One is to elim¬
motive for the man he meant to be inate the suspects.”
suspected. “There is first the doctor himself,”
“If Masked figured all that out, and I said. “After him Bruce, then Arm¬
tried to involve Bruce Foster he was strong, who still can’t account for his
a thirty-third-degree blunderer. On the movements. Even the father had a
other hand, why does not Dougherty motive, as you pointed out.”
just as well suppose that Bruce Foster “Tony,” said my chief, “you have
really did it and planted evidence to left out some of the most important
convict the doctor?” suspects. But no matter. They are all
Every detail filled the papers, and innocent.”
was given in the radio news broadcasts. “How do you know?” I insisted.
The reporters even recounted gleefully Irritatingly he paused to light his
that on his second day in the Tombs, pipe.
Masked ordered green turtle steak, “Because,” he said then, “I have been
cooked in Spanish fashion, brought certain from the first, that not only
from a Sevillian restaurant on Pearl was another woman involved, but that
Street. Geraldine Foster was killed by a
Dougherty was pressing for an early woman!”
trial. He was an holiest civil servant, From a drawer in his desk he took
but by no means blind to opportunities the embroidered pillow-case which he
for spectacular public impression. had found over the head of Geraldine
The prisoner made few statements, Foster.
but gave one interview that was widely “I believe a woman did this crime,”
discussed. repeated Thatcher Colt. “And I have to
“I am proud,” said he, “of the way find that woman by means of this pil¬
my family is rallying to my support. low-case.”
My father told me here this morning, “No laundry mark?” I asked.
with this steel door between us, that “It was new,” Colt said. “Come with
I was the apple of his eye. I found me, Tony.”
tears in my eyes when my father said He marched into a small room, where
that. And my brother George has un¬ there were thirty detectives. On a table
dertaken my defense.” lay a pair of shears. Colt cut the pillow¬
case into thirty segments and gave one
T HAT night Thatcher Colt and I piece to each man.
worked late in his office. Toward Then in a brief speech to the detec¬
midnight, he shoved aside his papers tives, he said the slip was of fine texture
and said: and shoud have come fromva shop that
“The Foster case is still anybody’s dealt in the finest quality of linens. The
puzzle, Tony. When I eliminate some detectives were not told they were
of the clues tomorrow the choice of the working on the Geraldine Foster case.
killer will have narrowed down greatly. Each was assigned to a section of the
Some other essential clues are lacking— city in which were located the lofts
trifles, yet containing the vital evidence and sample rooms of manufacturers—
we want.” dealers in bedding and bed linen.
He drew thoughtfully on his pipe. Off they went, each with his own
“Dougherty has muddied the waters,” sample.
he complained. “There is still the mys¬
tery about why that crime was commit¬ X
ted with an ax. There is still the ques¬
tion of who that mysterious woman was LL day long, day in and day out,
at the doctor’s door. Doctor Maskell for the next three days, the detectives
has been lying, but not about that. . . went from building to building, ques¬
When was the girl’s body buried? I tioning every maker and distributor
wish I knew that. Why did they bother of pillow-slips, exhibiting the samples
to bury it at all? I have found a in an organized effort to track this
motorist who remembers seeing lights unmated pillow-case to its source
on the hill on the night of January I could not guess the purpose. What
156 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
could be proved, even if they did locate We drove first to a little dry-goods
the wholesaler from which it came? and notions shop on Third Avenue. The
Each night the thirty men reported proprietor was a loud-voiced Irish¬
not the slightest results. But Thatcher woman who called down a pox on the
Colt refused to be discouraged. maker of those pillow-cases. She had
“If we don’t find some jobber in New never been able to sell one pair of them.
York who recognizes this pillow-case,” We checked them against the quality
he declared, “we’ll visit every mill in indicated on the delivery sheet and
the country.” found that she still had them all.
Stolid, reliable Detective Sergeant At the store of one Joseph Schnutz,
Gemsback finally came proudly to the a dealer in household furnishings, in
Commissioner’s office to report that he Fourteenth Street, Thatcher Colt
had taken his piece of pillow-case into learned that Mr. Schnutz was a careful
the office of a manufacturer’s agent merchant who had exhaustive records
who had identified it as part of his own of all his transactions.
line. “Did you buy any pillow-cases like
“I remember it well,” he had told this one?” asked Colt thrusting the
the detective. “It cost me a lot of piece Gemsback had used, under his
money.” eyes.
He had told Gemsback that these He had, Mr. Schnutz declared, the
expessive pillow-cases had been sold to most beautiful pillow-cases he had ever
a number of stores throughout New handled.
York City. Despite their excellent “Did you ever sell any of them?”
quality, their gaudiness had made them asked Colt.
almost unsalable. The manufacturers Mr. Schnutz shook his head.
had been left with almost the entire “Only one pair,” he replied. “People
output on their hands. Finally, to pre¬ don’t appreciate beautiful things.”
vent a total loss, they had been sacri¬ But did he know to whom he had
ficed to a lot of little stores. sold them?”
“Has he got the sales slips?” asked “Yes,” said the merchant. “It was
Colt. a lady with a little girl—pretty little
Detective Gemsback couldn’t say. girl. She bought that pair of pillow¬
The Commissioner hadn’t ordered him cases, after she saw them in the win¬
to find out anything about sales slips. dow. Had them delivered. Here’s the
“Come on, Tony,” said Colt. “Let’s record.”
go down there and see what we can He read from one of his slips:
find.” “Mrs. Felise Morgan, one eighty-six
The office of the Wig^lestaff Pillow Washington Square, North.”
and Case Factory was just off Fifth The pillow-slip which was found over
Avenue in the Thirties—a crowded the head of the buried Geraldine Foster
region, with trundle wagons dodging had been purchased by the mother of
through the trucks and limousines. little Doris Morgan!
Mr. Pearlman, the Manhattan agent At first it seemed to me as if this
for the Wigglestaff Company, greeted latest discovery completely shattered
Thatcher Colt, who explained what we all possibility of Doctor Maskell’s inno¬
were looking for. Did Mr. Pearlman cence. Then came an entirely different
keep records of all his sales? Mr. Pearl¬ and unthinkable accusation.
man said that since these particular Had Felise Morgan killed Geraldine
pillow-cases had been sold for cash the Foster?
duplicate delivery slips might have Even after what Colt had said, I
been destroyed. However, he would rejected the idea as impossible. A
investigate. woman wield that murderous ax, deal
Presently he returned with the dupli¬ those awful blows, and then, unaided,
cate delivery slips which he placed in bury that body after soaking it in a
the Commissioner’s hands. Seven stores bathtub full of tannic acid?
had bought those cases. I quickly made
notes of the names and addresses, and T HATCHER Colt, beside me in the
Department car, was watching me
we hurried off to make the round of
the shops. with an amused smile.
They were in widely separated areas. “It’s hard to figure out, isn’t it?” he
 ANTHONY ABBOT 157
said banteringly. “But one thing now is you ?” she croaked. We promised, won-
clear. Doctor Maskell is in love with deringly. She came nearer to Thatcher
Felise Morgan.” Colt, and with her palsied fingers on
“You think that a woman as lovely—” his wrist, she said:
“Women have killed women before, “Make Felise tell you the truth. She
and have not scrupled to use an ax, if stays here because of me. I am not
it suited their purpose.” worth it. Tell her to follow her heart. I
“Is that why Doctor Maskell is so can take care of myself.”
secretive ?” “Who are you?” asked Thatcher
“Did you notice the way he looked at Colt.
Doris, the day we rode around town in “Her mother-in-law.” The old woman
the car?” retreated to the door, then added: You
“I did.” make her do it and you may prevent
“For that child he would do anything. another murder!”
Maskell would rather take all the blame, The hard-featured woman who had
even if innocent, than ruin the life of admitted us returned hurriedly and
that little girl. He may even think seemed to whisk the old woman bodily
Felise is guilty.” from our sight. As I looked at Thatcher
“Do you think Mrs. Morgan is Colt, he put his finger to his lips.
guilty?” A few minutes later Felise Morgan
Thatcher Colt shook his head. entered the room.
“That is what I have come here to Her blond hair fell around a pale
find out,” he replied. and fragile face, characterized by re¬
We were once more in front of the finement, taste and delicacy. She looked
house in which Doctor Maskell had his ethereal and lovely in a soft lavender
offices, and where Doris Morgan and her negligee, her eyes studying us, as if
beautiful mother lived. sensing that we were here to pry into
As we started up the stairs, a man the most secret chapters of her life.
was coming out, a thick-set, heavy¬ The Police Commissioner rose and
shouldered man, in a heavy overcoat. bowed.
As he passed us, he gave us one dis¬
“Mrs. Morgan,” he said, “I came here
dainful glance. The next moment, some¬
on a most unpleasant duty.”
one else ran down the steps, chattering
in a low voice to himself. It was Check- “So the police have found out about
les, the doctor’s hunch-backed chauf¬ Humphrey and me at last,” she said
feur, plainly bent on following the first with a sigh. “I intended going to you.
man. I was resolved to do so, no matter what
“Just seeing where he goes—I sus¬ the cost.”
pect him,” cried Checkles to Thatcher “Hasn’t the doctor forbidden you to
Colt, as he hopped away. speak?” Colt inquired. He held up a
“Who on earth is Checkles follow¬ protesting hand. “Don’t be under any
ing?” I asked. misapprehensions. Doctor Maskell does
“That is Gilbert Morgan, Doris’ not know I am here. He has no idea
father and Felise’s husband.” that his relation to you is discovered.
The door of the Morgan apartment Only by keeping that quiet have I any
was opened by a tall woman with severe hope of saving him.”
features and black hair brushed tightly “Saving him?” echoed Felise Morgan,
over her head. She recognized Colt at slowly rising. “Why, you are the man
once. who wants to kill him!”
“Mrs. Morgan will see you in a mo¬ “I am the man who gathered all the
ment,” she said. “Please come in.” evidence on which the indictment was
She led us to a charmingly decorated brought,” Colt corrected. “But I have
small room off the living-room. Here never believed him guilty. The District
we were left. I was about to speak, Attorney took the matter out of my
when a scraping footstep made me turn. hands and has gone ahead on his own
I saw an old woman creeping into the course. I want to arrest the right per¬
room. For all her age and feeble con¬ son.” He went on swiftly: “Did you
dition, she was looking from me to or did you not receive a letter from
Thatcher Colt with eager curiosity. Geraldine Foster shortly before she
“Don’t tell her I came in here, will died?”
158 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
PALLOR suddenly swept across the
beautiful face. Stark terror came to
“Felise, who are these men?” he
asked.
her eyes. Colt did not wait for her to “I am Thatcher Colt, the Police Com¬
answer. missioner of the City of New York,” my
“It demanded blackmail?” chief suavely explained.
“Yes.” Was it fear that leaped into the face
“Have you the letter?” of the fat little man? Or was it sus¬
“No, I destroyed it.” picion ?
“What did the doctor say?” “The Police Commissioner?” he re¬
“He was very angry.” peated. “To what—”
“And ever since then, Mrs. Morgan, “It is a difficult matter,” interrupted
you have been afraid. And when her Colt. “The police have received com¬
body was found, you believed—” plaints against this apartment. Of
“No! I didn’t believe it. Doctor Mas¬ screams, quarrels.
ked was not capable of such a crime.” “Preposterous!” grated Felise Mor¬
Thatcher Colt nodded. gan’s husband.
“I believe you,” he said. “Now, on “I felt so,” agreed Thatcher Colt. “I
the afternoon of Christmas Eve, did the know a man of your position would
doctor telephone you?” not create disturbances. However, I
“Yes. He said he had a message, could not ignore the matter. Mrs. Mor¬
apparently from me, to meet me at the gan has already assured me it must be a
house on Peddler’s Road. He tele¬ malicious practical joke. Good day,
phoned here to confirm it. We both saw Mrs. Morgan. Good day, sir.”
there was something wrong, and I pro¬ When we were on our way back to
mised to meet him. But I was prevented Headquarters, Thatcher Colt said:
from leaving the house—by my hus¬ “How did a fine woman like that ever
band.” marry such a man?” After a moment’s
Thatcher Colt stood up and came pause, he added: “Why should Hum¬
closer to Felise Morgan. Bending over phrey Maskell want to kill Geraldine
her, he asked in a low voice: Foster? If he wanted to kill anybody,
“You are sincerely in love with Mas- there was a ready-made victim for him
kell ?” —his beloved’s husband. . ..”
“I am.” An hour after dinner Colt and I left
“Would you divorce your husband Police Headquarters and drove to
and marry the doctor if you could?’ Greenwich Village. Where Fourth
“Gladly.” Street crosses Seventh Avenue, we left
“Why haven’t you done it, then?” the car and proceeded on foot. The
Felise Morgan’s eyes were tragic. Commissioner led halfway down the
“You don’t know all, then?” block to a basement barber shop. We
descended and found the shop deserted
“No, indeed, I do not.”
of customers. The barber was reading
“The doctor went to Reno. He was a newspaper account of Doctor Mas¬
to make arrangements. I was to follow ked's arrest.
with my little girl and also—” Thatcher Colt sat down in the barber
“I know,” said Thatcher Colt, “that chair and asked for a hair trim and
your husband has been a drug fiend shave while I slouched in a chair.
for years. Now, who else did you “Good evening!” said the barber,
mean to take with you?” adjusting a cloth around the neck of the
“His mother,” she murmured. “A Police Commissioner. “Nice night.”
poor old woman with no one—”
She halted, all her body trembling.
We heard a key, and heavy footfalls
C OLT conceded this point with affable
good nature. Encouraged by his
after the slam of the door. Down the friendly customer, Marinelli, the barber,
hall strode the man Checkles had like so many others in town, began to
followed. talk about the Foster murder.
Gilbert Morgan was spherical and “Ah,” said the barber, “but that is
plump. His shiny bald crown was like a very sad.”
hemispherical roof over his head. His “How so?” asked Colt.
little black eyes looked at us malevo¬ “That Doctor Masked. He is one of
lently. my best customers. He come here often.
 ANTHONY ABBOT 15?
But he is too damn attractive to the against the doctor is leading to that
girls.” conclusion. Imagine collecting the doc¬
‘‘It’s a great way to be cursed some¬ tor’s hair cuttings, just to fake the re¬
times,” Colt jested. fuse under the dead girl’s finger
“No. It was the doctor’s ruin. The nails. . . .”
women followed him. Even into my We came to a halt in front of a walk-
shop they followed him.” up apartment on upper Broadway, not
“So women followed the doctor into far from the scene of the crime. Colt
this very place!” exclaimed the Police mounted four flights and rapped on a
Commissioner. door. A woman opened the door and
“One did. She just wanted to be stared at us.
near him. She admitted it to me when “Mrs. Planzen?”
he was gone.” “Yeh.”
“Pretty girl?” asked the Commis¬ “Has your little boy gone to bed?”
sioner carelessly. “What’s he been doin’?”
“Not so young—very pretty—not so “Nothing. I want to talk with him.
bad,” chortled the voluble barber. I want to reward him, in fact.”
“Blond hair, nice shape, sweet voice. “Oh, yeh? And who are you?”
Just a married woman—I saw the ring “I’m from the Police,” said Thatcher
—with a yearning for a strong, good- Colt, in his friendliest voice. “Now,
looking man. She said she did not even Mrs. Planzen, you are not in any trou¬
know his name. But she confessed her ble. It happens that your little boy
feeling to me. She wanted a lock of his plays near Peddler’s Road and I am
hair. I gave it to her.” hoping he can help me in an important
The Commissioner laughed. No one case.”
could have guessed that now the hunter “Oh, gee, Mom, lemme talk to him!”
had sniffed a scent. There came under the mother’s el¬
“Does she come here often?” he bow the same sallow-faced urchin who
asked. ran from me that cold day when Betty
The barber shook his head. Canfield and I first came upon the house
“No, she never came back. Why? on Peddler’s Road.
You are not that silly lady’s husband?” “Hello, Warren,” said the Commis¬
“No,” said Thatcher Colt. “But I am sioner. “Remember me?”
a friend of Doctor Maskell, one of the “Sure.”
few men in the city today who believes Mrs. Planzen said: “Any reward that
him innocent.” would go to my child comes to his
“Si, signor." mother what needs it to keep soul and
“The lady wore a wedding ring. What body together, and not to his father
did it look like?” who drinks up every cent that he lays
The barber’s liquid eyes turned up¬ his hands on.”
ward. “Exactly,” agreed Thatcher Colt, and
“The ring,” he said at last, “was of we were admitted into the shabby lit¬
platinum, set with diamonds, and two tle living room.
big pearls.” “Now, Warren,” he said, “you told
Thatcher Colt, who remained silent me a wild story about a ghost without
while the final touches were given his any clothes in the murder house. What
face and hair, had one question held in made you say that?”
reserve. He put it casually, as he rose “I saw it. Inside the house. Christ¬
from the chair. mas Eve.”
“Would you know that woman if you "What were you doing there?”
saw her again?” he asked.
“Yes—yes. Sure.” T HE boy turned red and hung his
head.
We emerged into the street.
"Now,” said Thatcher Colt, when we “I broke in the house,” he confessed.
were driving uptown, “it is becoming “But I didn’t steal anything. I was
more apparent that the killer had no playing robber’s cave.”
grudge against Geraldine Foster. That “Did you break the window?”
poor girl was merely a pawn to be sacri¬ “No, sir. That was broke a long time
ficed in a larger game, in which millions ago.”
were involved. All the evidence planted “Did you find anybody in there?”
 160 ABOUT THE MURDER OF OERALDINE FOSTER
“No, sir—not right off. Then I heard field had moved from here now.
a noise and I got awful scared, and final¬ Thatcher Colt sought out the janitor.
ly, just to prove I wasn’t scared at all, “Who showed Apartment Four D to
I sneaked up the back stairs. It was prospective tenants ?” was the Commis¬
getting dark and I got more scared. I sioner’s question.
was sure there was somebody up there. He said there had been only one per¬
I was afraid to go upstairs or down, son interested after the girls decided to
so I climbed out on the window sill. I sublet, because Geraldine was planning
let myself down by my hands when I to be married.
saw the ghost coming down the hall.” “Do you remember who it was?”
“What was it like?” asked Colt.
“It didn’t have any clothes on, and “It was a lady,” he said, “with blond
it was all covered with blood.” hair.”
“Warren, was it a man or a woman?” “Can you remember her more ac¬
“A woman,” answered the boy, begin¬ curately? Was she pretty?”
ning to whimper. “I ran home.” “I didn’t get a good look at her,” said
“Did you tell your mother?” the operator. “Sne kept her coat muf¬
“Not a word,” said Mrs. Planzen bit¬ fled up about her face both times she
terly. was here.”
“Did you see anything else up there?” "Oh, she was here twice?”
persisted Colt. “The first time was about two or
“No, sir. But I hung around. That’s three weeks before Christmas. The
why you found me.” girls were not at home, but I showed
When we emerged from the house, her around.”
Thatcher Colt asked the patrolman on “Did you leave her alone in the apart¬
the corner: ment?”
“Is there a locksmith near here?” “Well—”
“Yes—right there.” The patrolman Colt turned to me.
pointed to a basement shop where a “That was the time she had the op¬
light was still burning. portunity to steal the pen and paper,”
The locksmith was a thin, weazened he said.
old man. “Nothing was ever reported missing,”
“Ever see that before?” asked protested the man, but Colt waved that
Thatcher Colt, throwing down the old- aside.
fashioned key. “When did she come again?”
“I made it. For a lady. I don’t know “About two in the afternoon, Christ¬
her name.” mas Eve. She said she thought she
“Describe her.” would take the apartment, but wanted
The description given by the lock¬ another look at it.”
smith differed slightly from the one “This time she brought back the torn
furnished by the barber, but her method note she had forged,” muttered Colt.
of obtaining the key seemed to interest “Tony, this woman was clever enough
the Commissioner. The woman had to be a forger. Probably she obtained
taken the locksmith up the hill to the a sample of Geraldine’s writing as
house on Peddler’s Road. The door was Geraldine’s mysterious correspondent,
open. It was fitted with an old-fash¬ wanting genealogical information. She
ioned lock and the woman said the key planted those tom papers on the second
was lost. Could he make her another? visit. Then she went down to Doctor
As Colt later pointed out, she must have Maskell’s suite. I wonder what she did
broken the kitchen window to enter. there?”
The mechanic had taken the lock to the Early next morning, Colt sent for
shop and found an old key which fitted. Clesleek, and had a long consultation
“Thanks,” said Thatcher Colt. “You with him. When Clesleek left the Com¬
will hear from me later.” missioner’s office, he carried a sealed
envelope, and a small gold object, and
XI he promised to see the perfumers.
I was deep in my work, late in the
W« drove downtown and stopped afternoon, when Thatcher Colt came in
in front of the Esplanade Apartments and touched me on the shoulder.
on Momingside Heights. Betty Can¬ "Tony,” he said, “stop your work.”
 ANTHONY ABBOT 1&1
I looked up and he smiled. “The killer of Geraldine Foster,” re¬
“I have the honor to report,” he said, sumed Colt, “did not know her. Slayer
‘‘that I have finally solved the Geraldine and victim were total strangers. Hate
Foster murder case. . . did not enter into the crime. Neither
A strange meeting was held that did love, jealousy, or fear. The murder
night in the Commissioner’s house on of Geraldine Foster was a cold-blooded
West Seventieth Street. proposition.”
All the witnesses in the Foster case “A cold-blooded ax-murder,” scoffed
were in one of the rooms on the second Dougherty.
floor. In the Police Commissioner’s li¬ “From the outset,” Colt went on,
brary sat George Maskell, and across “there were three major questions in
from him sat his wife, Natalie, looking this murder. Why did the murderer use
pale and beautiful. Between them, an ax? Why was the corpse denuded of
grim and thoughtful, sat Doctor Hum¬ all clothing, except for a pillow-case
phrey Maskell. over the head? Who was the mysteri¬
Facing this trio stood District Attor¬ ous woman who met Doctor Maskell at
ney Dougherty. He found it difficult to his office door, within an hour after the
contain his indignation at these bizarre murder was done? Those questions
and unnecessary proceedings. were vital. Through them I felt certain
Looking somberly upon them all, I could grope my way to all the other
Thatcher Colt suddenly appeared at the necessary facts.”
little private door. “Did you?” asked George Maskell.
“I want to say,” Dougherty blurted, “I did. We will call our criminal ‘X’,
“that I regard this entire proceeding as a person who is money-crazy, for the
entirely irregular! Why are we here?” murder of Geraldine Foster was done
Colt replied, “To rehearse the murder for money and nothing else.”
of Geraldine Foster, and to accuse the I could feel a cold chill crawling
actual criminal, whom I now have safe¬ through my veins.
ly under lock and key.” “How do you know that?” asked
“The actual criminal ia under arrest,” Natalie Maskell. “It is hardly a plausi¬
Dougherty snarled. ble theory.”
“Sit down, Dougherty,” counseled “I would like to hear the facts,”
Colt, “and let me explain.” purred Dougherty.
Dougherty sat down. “Nevertheless, assume that X was
“Shoot!” he exploded. money-crazy. X suddenly conceived a
“I know who killed Geraldine Fos¬ brilliant scheme. By the death of Ger¬
ter,” began Thatcher Colt promptly, his aldine Foster, X foresaw gain. The
voice quiet. “I know how Geraldine temptation was irresistible. The blood¬
was killed, and why. I am prepared to thirsty notion of the most consummate
prove every statement I make about schemer finally was ready for execu¬
this bloody business.” tion.”
He turned directly to Dougherty. “All sheer assumption!” remarked
“Doctor Maskell,” he said, “is the Dougherty.
victim of an unfortunate marriage. He “It became necessary for X to obtain
never tried to free himself until he fell a sample of the handwriting of Ger¬
in love with Felise Morgan. Her mar¬ aldine Foster. Out of the West came
riage, too, was unfortunate but she a letter for Geraldine, a genealogical
stayed on, out of pity for her mother- inquiry from one Mr. Ephraim Foster.
in-law. It is true that this man and He assured Geraldine that she was
this woman broke the laws of conven¬ descended from kings. Geraldine replied
tion. But that was the only offense to the letter. Then Geraldine heard
Doctor Maskell committed—except that from the genealogist no more.
he left for Reno, to make arrangements “I sent a wire to the chief of police
for a double divorce, to be followed by a in Willoughby, Kansas, whence the let¬
marriage. That was why this crime was ter came. Through the local police, I
committed.” learned that a box had been rented in
the Willoughby post office by a tran¬
T HE three Maskells looked at Colt sient visitor to a nearby town, in Au¬
with eager interest. Dougherty gust of last year, and that the so-called
sulked. Ephraim Foster was a woman!
 162 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
“I was not surprised. From the first sible further to entangle Doctor Mas¬
I suspected that the murderer was not ked. That might be days, yet when the
a man. And I learned that the one per¬ body was found, it must have the ap¬
son to whom I might ascribe a motive— pearance of being freshly killed. Tan¬
a woman—had been away from New nic acid would do that.”
York during August. Forgery is by no
means the rare and delicate accomplish¬
ment generally supposed. So between
S HOCKED murmurs came as Colt
paused.
August and December twenty-four, X “Later,” he said then, “one could go
had ample time to copy the handwriting back, bury the body, then contrive to
of Geraldine Foster. involve the doctor with a difficulty in
“Geraldine was about to be married. proving his movements. But he must
She was leaving Momingside Heights, not get into the house, otherwise he
and the apartment was for sub-let. Ger¬ would discover what had happened,
aldine and Betty worked during the day perhaps notify the police himself. Here
and X called to look at the apartment was a real problem, yet X met it with
during the day. On the first occasion, skid.
X stole stationery and a pen, but over¬ “But let me leap ahead for a moment.
looked the important detail that all pur¬ A few days after Christmas, Doctor
ple inks are not the same. That aroused Masked leaves town suddenly, without
my first suspicion. an explanation. Why? X knew—the
“The note which demanded blackmail trip to Reno preparatory to getting a
money from Doctor Maskell was forged. divorce. It was this romance which
It was brought back to the apartment hastened the crime. If Felise and the
on Morningside Heights by X who, left doctor got married, the reason for the
alone in the living room, tore it across crime itself would cease to be.
and thrust the pieces into the desk “X knew that the doctor would return
drawer, certain that they would be on January fourth. No one would be
found. Betty Canfield saw Geraldine visiting the house on Peddler’s Road.
half-finish a note, then destroy it— A11 that time the body of Geraldine Fos¬
which threw us all off the track, until ter lay in the tub of tannic acid. But
detectives found the fragments of both on the night of January third, someone
notes. saw a light in the house. That was the
“It was also on the second visit that night X buried the body. The pigeons
the key to the house on Peddler’s Road gave me a clue, which the autopsy sub¬
was left in Geraldine’s coat. This was stantiated. The girl had been in the
not the only note written by X. An¬ grave thirty-six hours but she had been
other was sent to Felise Morgan, to killed on December twenty-fourth. It
create in her mind a doubt of the doc¬ had been the design of X to make it
tor’s innocence.” seem that Geraldine had been killed on
“You have not explained why Hum¬ January third, when Doctor Masked
phrey was selected as the victim of this could not account for his movements.
mysterious X,” said Natalie Masked. “On January fourth, he received a
Thatcher Colt smiled. telephone cad. He was told that it was
“Doctor Masked was the only possi¬ Geraldine talking, that he could save
ble victim. X had been finding out her from great trouble. The doctor
about the private affairs of the doctor, went to meet her at the Pelham en¬
everything that he would wish to keep trance to Bronx Park. He waited two
hidden. He had been followed to the hours and no one who knew him saw
house on Peddler’s Road, and his secret him there. That made the doctor’s
love affair was known. story look fishy, and the District Attor¬
“X broke into the house, studied the ney laid stress on it, just as X intended
layout, and had a key made for the he should.
front door. And X’s all-seeing eyes had “But the tannic acid ruse had not
fallen upon Doctor Maskell’s ax. worked. The snails in the stomach of
“By now, you must see that Geraldine Geraldine Foster were conclusive. We
Foster was only an incident in the now knew that Geraldine had been
scheme. The doctor was to be the real killed on Christmas Eve. But that did
victim. X would murder the girl, then not help the doctor, for his Christmas
preserve the body until it would be pos¬ Eve alibi was just as defective as the
 ANTHONY ABBOT 143
one for January fourth. The killer had “The murderess drove back to Wash¬
first meant to lure him there directly, ington Square, opened that office with
in which case no tannic acid would Geraldine’s key, carried the girl’s
have been necessary. clothes inside, where they would
“After Mrs. Westock delivered the eventually be found, and hung the coat
message, the doctor called Mrs. Morgan, and purse conspicuously on a . hook.
because he was suspicious. They ar¬ Then she came out, locked the door and
ranged to meet, but Mrs. Morgan could was about to leave when suddenly—and
not leave her apartment. Doctor Mas- here I guess—she remembered having
kell had no alibi, and would not betray left something distinctive inside. The
the lady. We had to find her through doctor came before she could unlock
the pillow-case which had been deliber¬ the door and get back. The doctor,
ately put over the head of the victim, however, did not recognize her. But I
to lead to the doctor, through Mrs. found traces which led me to her. The
Morgan.” first clue was a hair.”
“A gruesome scheme,” remarked
George Maskell.
“X decided to leave nothing to chance.
F ROM his desk drawer, Thatcher Colt
drew out two envelopes, marked
It must be shown that Doctor Masked “Hair.” Dougherty bent over the desk,
had bought the chemical. A telephone his face almost free of doubt.
cad was made to a druggist who was “This first envelope,” said Colt, “con¬
told that Doctor Masked wished three tains a hair I took from Geraldine’s
large bottles of tannic acid delivered be¬ hair-net the night I first visited her
fore two o’clock. A witness saw Ger¬ apartment. I thought I might need it
aldine Foster leaving the office carrying if her body were found and identifica¬
a bottle—her own embalming fluid. A tion proved difficult. This other hair
woman with her carried another. I found on the floor, where it had fallen
“At a little after three o’clock that from the head of the murderess, prob¬
afternoon, X arrived at the office of ably during the struggle.”
Doctor Masked. She accompanied that Opening the second envelope, Colt
woman, bringing the bottles the doctor drew out a long strand of medium
supposedly had requested—to her place blond hair.
of execution. “The murderess has since had her
“Now we have to draw upon our de¬ hair dyed,” added the Commissioner.
ductive powers. X and Geraldine en¬ “Now I’ll show you a third exhibit.”
tered the house. The woman went up¬ Colt drew out a third envelope. Then
stairs, taking the bottles. She took off from a drawer he took out a long, thin
every inch of clothing and came down¬ glass tube filled with a colorless liquid.
stairs naked, ax in hand. Her clothes “Recently,” explained Colt, “I man¬
must not be spattered. So she was aged to obtain several hairs from the
nude.” head of the woman I suspect of killing
“Good God!” breathed Dougherty. Geraldine Foster. I went to her own
“At the time exactly fixed by the bat¬ beauty parlor—just as she had gone
tered wrist-watch, X, the bloodthirsty to Doctor Maskell’s barber and ob¬
woman, without warning fed upon poor tained a cutting for deadly purpose.
Geraldine with the ax. The girl was Here is one of her hairs—a dark, lovely
literally hacked to death. Lifting the auburn. But when I drop it into this
bloody body, the naked murderess car¬ chemical see the dye fall away.”
ried it upstairs to the bathroom. Cross¬ The strand of hair fell into the chemi¬
ing to the bedroom X saw a boy looking cal, and the liquid became discolored.
in the had window. The room was dark. After a moment Thatcher Colt drew
Identification was hardly possible. In¬ out the hair and beside it he laid the
stantly the clever mind of this mad one found on the scene of the crime.
creature worked out the solution as the They were a perfect match.
boy fled. The body would be stripped “God God!” cried Dougherty again.
anyhow, for the soaking in the tub, so “Who is this woman, Colt?”
would be buried nude, and if that boy The Police Commissioner shrugged.
ever testified, he would believe that it “This might not convince a jury,” he
was Geraldine he saw, and not the mur¬ said, “but in the bathroom of the mur¬
deress. der house was a face cloth. It had lip-
164 ABOUT THE MURDER OF GERALDINE FOSTER
stick on it. I had those stains analyzed “You are clever, Mr. Colt. But you
and compared them with the lipstick have not won yet.”
taken from the lips of Geraldine Foster. Natalie Masked sat down and began
The lipstick used by Geraldine was a quivering. Humphrey Masked sprang
Corday product, but the one used by to the side of the woman who would
the murderess was from Coty. I saw have destroyed him. But she was al¬
her stick one day when she dropped it ready beyond the need of a doctor—and
in this room.” not one of us had noticed when she
Natalie Maskell, rising, was as pale swallowed the poison tablet.
as snow. The murderess of Geraldine Foster
“Do you accuse me of murdering Ger¬ was dead. . . .
aldine Foster?” she cried. - When finally ad the others had gone
“I do,” said Thatcher Colt. “And I congratulated my chief, and he smiled
you did it with an ax because no one a little sadly.
would connect a woman with such a “Tony,” he confessed, “I feel lone¬
weapon!” some tonight. Everybody has gone
“I have yet to hear the motive,” she home except you and me—and a little
mocked. girl waiting downstairs. Betty.”
“Your father-in-law has not long to “Really?” I said.
live. He will bequeath millions of dol¬ “Will you two join me in a little sup¬
lars to each of his two sons. But if per, or would you rather be to your¬
one son dies, the other gets all. You selves?”
wanted all. You are mad—money-mad.” We ate our supper, Betty and I, as the
She laughed balefully. guests of Thatcher Colt.

“3 ll Stop -Meddling 3n Police cd^air^! ”

T HAT was what Hildegarde Withers promised Inspector Oscar Piper. It looked
as if she meant it, too, for when Pat Montague’s friends asked her help in clearing
Pat of suspicion of murder, Hildegarde turned him over to the police.

But from then on Hildegarde alternated between investigating suspects, snooping

for clues, and watching her tank of tropical fish. Oddly enough, it was the fish that
finally gave her one of the most important clues and helped her find the way down
a devious trail to the murderer.

Hildegarde is a delightful character, and you won't regret that she mixes into
something that, basically, is none of her business—in FEAR DEATH BY WATER, a
baffling and exciting novel by STUART PALMER which is one of next issue’s trio of
top-flight mysteries!
MURDER STAMP
by LEWIS LITTLE

Cabbie Zotter had his eye on easy douyhl

IT WAS a wet, muggy summer night,

but there weren’t many fares around.
down the block. He got out of his cab,
pulled his cap lower over his eyes, and
The long week-end was on. The walked back to Eighth.
crowd that usually rides in taxis was He turned down the avenue and
up in Connecticut or on the Jersey walked casually past the Empire Hard¬
shore, complaining about the weather. ware Store. Sure, Anderson was still
Week-enders kept their fingers crossed there, grinding out quarters and dollar
that the sun would come out next day bills. Other store owners would know
and dry up the beaches. when to close up shop and go home, but
The rain didn’t bother Zotter, though. not Uncle Walt Anderson. As long as
Nor did he envy his holidaying fares. there was a loose penny around, Ander¬
And swimming was farthest of all son would be there to grab it.
from his thoughts. Zotter was out to Zotter walked inside. He had been
do a job, the profits from which he there a week ago, to have a key made.
would never report on his income tax. He had paid for it with a five-dollar
Zotter cruised up Eighth Avenue, bill, and Anderson had made change
waited for the light at Fifty-fifth Street, from a roll that had widened Zotter’s
then turned left and parked midway narrow blue eyes.
165
144 MURDER STAMP
“Business must be good,” he had com¬ “For the key, Granpa. I like to pay
mented casually. my bills.”
“I don’t trust banks,” Anderson had He threw the quarter in Anderson’s
said curtly. face. It was a smart-aleck touch, a
The old man was putting some stock mean gesture, but it was not wise. The
on a shelf as Zotter came in now. old man got mad. He got furious, and
“Yes? What can I do for you?" the blood rushed to his head. With
“You can do plenty for me, Pop,” surprising speed, he reached for the
Zotter thought. “You should just know key block on the work bench, and slam¬
all you’re going to do for me. He said med it against Zotter’s chest, almost in
aloud: the same motion.
“It’s that duplicate key you made for Zotter’s reaction was partly reflex,
me last week.” partly rage. He squeezed the Luger’s
Anderson frowned. “Well, if it broke trigger. The bullet smashed the old
off in the lock, that’s not my lookout. man in the throat and went out the
The kind of metal we get nowadays, back of his head.
what can you expect?” He was dead before he hit the floor.
Zotter’s mouth twisted. “I don’t want Zotter broke out in a cold sweat. He
a refund. The key didn’t break off. I scooped the quarter off the floor, made
just lost It, and I want a duplicate.” sure he had both keys in his pocket,
“Oh, that’s different. Say, I remem¬ and stepped gingerly around the body,
ber you. You’re a taxi driver.” just in time to keep blood from his
“I don’t own the Third National shoes. The murder had taken place in
Bank.” the back of the store.
Anderson glanced at the hard face, Even if someone had heard the shot,
took the original key, and sat down at it wouldn’t matter much now. Zotter
his work bench. He took a blank from was already through the door, and head¬
a rack, compared it with the original, ing back to his taxi. . . .
and had the duplicate ready in a few They found the corpse two hours
minutes later. later. Patrolman Joe Tule, that is,
Zotter handed him a five-dollar bill. and half the peolpe in the neighborhood.
“I had to change a five last time,” Tule made the discovery when he found
Anderson complained. the door open and lights still on. The
“This time just don’t bother, huh?” neighbors found out when the ambu¬
lance and the Medical Examiner drove
up, minutes behind a couple of plain¬
A NDERSON stopped peeling ones
clothes detectives.
from his thick roll. His head jerked “Murder,” said the M. E., after a
up at the other man’s hard tones. His quick, professional examination. “Man’s
mouth gaped when he saw the Luger been dead since about seven-thirty, I’d
in Zotter’s right hand. say. A gunshot wound, obviously. Any
“You catch on quick, Granpa. We’ll trace of a bullet?”
just make a little exchange, see? You Patrolman Tule reached into his
give me your bank roll, and I’ll pay pocket and came up with the slug.
you a quarter—for the key.” “When I first found him,” he said,
Anderson began to tremble. His “I noted the position of the body, and
breath became quick, short, and his figured out the trajectory. The slug
face was white. wound up in that shelf—over there.”
“You get out of here! You get out One of the detectives took it. “Good
of here right away! There’s a police work. Hmm—it may have come from
station just a couple of blocks away. I’ll a Luger.”
call the cops!” Tule nodded. He was a stocky fellow,
Zotter jammed the gun against the about twenty-seven, on the force two
old man’s stomach. “Go ahead. “Call.” years since the war. He seemed to take
Anderson backed up, shaking. The things as they came.
taximan wrenched the roll from his fin¬ “Yeah,—if the killer hasn’t thrown
gers and stuck it in his pocket. Then the Luger away by now,” he observed.
he transferred the gun to his left hand They put a sheet around old Uncle
and fingered his change. He came up Walt Anderson and took him away. Tule
with a quarter. accompanied the two plainclothes men
 LEWIS LITTLE 147
over to the precient station, to file his third floor, Tule turned right and walk¬
report. And make four phone calls. ed to the end of the corridor. He knock¬
Just before he left the store, he took ed on a door—loudly.
the key block from the work bench— After a minute or two: “Who’s
where he had put it when he’d found it there? What do you want?”
on the floor. And his fingers held onto “Ish thish where Dunbar lives? He
it like a vise. . . . shaid I should come up for a li’l drink
“Say—what’s that you got, Joe ?” shometime.”
They were in a patrol car outside the The man inside swore. “Beat it!
station. Pete Wright, one of the two Ain’t no Dunbar livin’ here.”
detectives on the case, examined the Tule strained for the effect. “There
key block rather casually. ish too! Maybe you ain’t Dunbar, but
“Old Anderson threw it at his mur¬ I know he’s livin’ there. Fifth place
derer,—I think,” said Joe Tule. from the comer, third floor. Shaid 1
Wright frowned. “Why didn’t you should come up any time—any time at
hand it over to the desk sergeant?” all!”
“I will, later. Let’s head for the The door opened a crack. The mom¬
cab stand on Fifty-seventh, huh?” ent the tenant saw Tule’s uniform, he
The uniformed driver turned his tried to slam the door shut, but Tule
head. “Aren’t you supposed to be had his toe in the crack.
walkin’ your beat?” “Stop horsing around, Zotter,” he
“Isn’t the City of New York supposed ordered, and put your hands up!”
to catch loose killers?” Zotter swore viciously. He put both
The driver said something sour, and hands up—but one threw the wall
they drove up to the hack stand. switch, darkening the room, and the
Tule had his hand on his gun as he other squeezed a gun trigger.
jumped out of the car. He spoke quickly “Ow!” Detective Wright clapped a
to the two hackies on duty. The second hand to his shoulder, dropping his
man told him what he wanted to know. pistol.
Tule got back in the patrol car. “I Joe Tule and the patrol car driver
thought our boy might be working. He brushed past him into the room, guns
isn’t. He’s home. Let’s go get him, blazing.
huh?”
Zotter had already smashed a window
He told the driver to head for an
and was out on a fire-escape. He fired
apartment house—an old brick tene¬
once, twice. Tule heard two slugs
ment—on West Third Street, in the
whistle past his head. Then feet could
Village.
be heard, clambering up the fire-escape.
“What’s this all about?” Detective
Pete Wright demanded. “Follow him!” Tule shouted. “I’ll go
Tule glanced at him, but his face was up on the roof!”
§ rim now. “Maybe it’s a chase, Pete. He ran from the room, up the cor¬
et your gun out. Maybe our boy ridor to the staircase, and up that to a
hasn’t got rid of his Luger yet.” skylight. An impartial moon was out
On Tule’s instructions, the patrol car now, as the sky cleared. Tule thought
parked midway down Macdougal Street. he saw a dark outline behind an air
The usual Saturday night gang saw the shaft.
two uniformed men and the detective He fired. The outline, materializing
as they approached the brick tenement with a string of oaths, fired back. Tule
on West Third. People began to gather. shot instantly at the flash, and struck
Tule turned to face them. “Mum’s the pay dirt. There was a loud scream of
word, folks. We’re just checking up on pain, and presently another shot.
a guy. Don’t block the doorway, huh? “We can keep this up all night!” Joe
This is just a routine job.” Tule called. “Can you?”
Just then he heard cautious steps
D Y THE time the three lawmen were from the fire-escape, then two quick
u inside, the crowd was drifting away. shots. The patrol car driver was right
Tule glanced at the letter boxes. on the ball.
“Third floor, it says here.” Zotter screamed in pain and frustra¬
They drew out their guns and follow¬ tion. He came out, firing wildly, blind¬
ed Tule up the narrow stairs. On the ly, and they brought him down with two
168 MURDER STAMP
slugs—one in the leg, one through his roll. “He got sore. He got so mad that
gun shoulder. .. . he forgot all about his life, and picked
Zotter passed out on the operating up that key block. He hit you across
table, but he was lying propped up in the chest with it—right on your hack
bed when Patrolman Joe Tule and De¬ badge.”
tective Pete Wright, his arm in a sling, Tule held up the key block so Zotter
came in the next morning. could see it.
“You ain’t got a thing on me!” Zotter “Inside this block is a bed of wax,
snapped. Zotter. That’s how you take the impres¬
“We had three slugs in you last night, sion of a key. Well—and I doubt if it
before the doctor took ’em out,” Tule was deliberate—Anderson smacked you,
reminded him. and the raised letters on your cab badge
“Wise guy!” Zotter snarled. made an impression in the wax. Not
“Sure, why not?” Tule grinned as he only the letters, but your badge num¬
lit a cigarette. “Smart enough to track erals—two-six-three-o-nine. Look.”
you down, anyway. Although I will say Zotter looked, his body in fear-sweat.
this much. You didn’t make any mis¬ The badge letters “HA” and the num¬
takes.” erals. Plain as day. Plain, in fact, as
Zotter’s small eyes widened. “Huh? death.
You mean this is all a bluff? Why, you “H-A,” Tule said. “ ‘Hack’, of course.
big—” The rest was comparatively easy, after
“Shut up!’ Detective Wright snapped. I’d phoned around to the neighborhood
“And listen.” cab stands.”
Jos Tule took the small oblong key Zotter couldn’t talk for a couple
block from his pocket. minutes. Finally he said, hoarsely,
“This is a key block, Zotter,” he said. viciously:
“Maybe Old Man Anderson was making “So that makes you a detective, flat-
a key for you, huh? Okay—it doesn’t foot!”
matter. But the murder took place near On Joe Tule’s face broadened an
his work bench. I’d say that you pulled infectious grin.
that Luger on him and demanded his “That’s what they tell me,” he said.

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 THE READERS' JURY
(Continued from Page 10)
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Then, while Rosalind was recuper¬

ating in the hospital, Reggie was called
away to investigate the apparently un¬
related murder of an octogenarian • in
Manningham. The police suspected the
old man’s daughter-in-law, who had re¬
cently been paroled from a life sentence
for the murder of her husband.
Reggie made it his business to meet
the pretty suspect and decided the
woman was innocent. But he found
something else. He found that there
was a link between the old man’s death
and the devilish persecution of Rosa¬
lind Bruce. And, by the time he raced
back to Bridcombe to follow up his new
leads he learned that even the hospital
wasn’t safe for Rosalind!
Battling against time and a killer
made desperate by circumstances and
fear of exposure, Reggie Fortune shoul¬
ders through a baffling sequence of en¬
tanglements that make “The Life Sen¬
tence” by H. C. Bailey one of the best
in the long-established Reggie Fortune
series.
An Intriguing Experiment
“How Like a God” by Rex Stout
marks a distinct departure from the
type of mystery we have been accus¬
tomed to running in TRIPLE DETEC¬
TIVE. Frankly, it is an experiment with
us, but we think you readers will be in¬
trigued by it.
“How Like a God” is no whodunit
in the ordinary sense of the word. Clif¬
ton Fadiman says this about it: “Real
[Turn page]
169
 and exciting ... an unusual book.”
Dangers Of Delay That sums it up. It is a story that will
possess you not as a reader, but as an
On Chronic Ailments actual participant. You will be pulled
into an irresistible vortex of events
that had their beginning in one man’s
abnormal boyhood and culminated in a
grim vendetta of vengeance.
Bill Sidney, a stranger to himself as
tv,: .„ well as a stranger to others, was a
ytudiiwdrf 1
timid and vengeless man until one night
a woman drove him too far and he
climbed the dim, shadowy steps of her
apartment house with a gun in his
pocket and murder in his heart.
Always he had been a victim of weird
desires and impulses. During his early
school days when his family despaired
of him it was his sister who always
shielded him. Later, one of his teachers
shielded him—but in a different way.
Then came college and Dick Carr.
That was one of the few times when he
managed to break out of his shell. A
harsh, taunting word and suddenly
timid Bill Sidney was fighting big Dick
Carr, a rugged football star and getting
the beating of his life.
Oddly enough, that scrap led to an
enduring friendship between Carr and
Bill. It also led to Bill’s going into
business with Carr. Soon he began to
prosper. But, despite all the money he
made he was still only a shadow, a
wraith—and the knowledge was like a
poison in him.
He was still timid and vengeless when
8EWP^ HO MOHEY il? he married Erma Carr, Dick’s sister,
and let her run his life. And he was
LINCOLN TAILORS Dept. TF-10, Lincoln, Nebr. timid and vengeless when he met Milli-
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Millicent was a lure he couldn’t es¬
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Erma had used him—until one night
she crowded him too far.
f the new and different Rice Method
». Without hard flesh-gouging pads or ton That was the night he crept into Mil-
here's a Support that has brought joy and licent’s apartment house. He had the
key to her apartment in his hand. His
mind was a-whirl with strange, con¬
flicting sensations. His nerves were
wires humming with pain and fear and
distress. He could picture Millicent
sitting in the blue chair in her fadded
dressing gown.
He didn’t know if he’d have the cour¬
age to go all the way up those stairs.
But still his moving legs carried him
up step by step—toward a black tunnel
of violence and death.
We defy you to put this sensational
novel down until the last page has been
turned. You meet Bill Sidney on that
fatal stairway in the very first page of
“How Like a God.” In between that
first compelling sequence and the
smashing conclusion on the final page is
an uncanny and memorable psychologi¬
cal story of suspense and vengeance!

The Crucial Clue

“Fear Death by Water” by Stuart
Palmer, third of the trio of novels
scheduled for the next issue of TRIPLE
DETECTIVE, provides another vehicle
for the incomparable Hildegarde With¬
ers to joust with crime. In this one
a queer example of cannibalism in a
tropical fish tank suggests the crucial
clue that helps Hildegarde trap the
murderer of a wealthy socialite on his
Long Island estate and save an innocent
man from the electric chair.
The tale begins with Pat Montague,
ex-GI, walking along a curving high¬
way toward the palatial estate of Hunt-
ley Cairns. He wasn’t expected and he
wasn’t sure if he would be welcomed.
But one thing he knew: he had to see
Helen Abbott, who was now Mrs.
Cairns.
Helen’s picture had been with him
all during the grim and dirty days of
the war. There had never been anyone
else for him. And for a time, after he
saw the newspaper clipping announcing
her marriage to Huntley Cairns, he
hadn’t cared much about living.

Another Man's Wife

Yet, here he was, still hungering for
her, though she was another man’s
wife.
He came to the gateway to the estate
and some odd impulse carried him be¬
yond it. He came to the crest of a hill.
[Turn page]
 Below him he saw the green-blue shim¬
mer of water in a swimming pool.
Beside the pool there was a flash of
white which vanished at once. He
crawled through the fence, the blood
pounding in his temples. As long as he
had known her, Helen had always worn
white bathing suits.
He hurried down to the bathhouse
and stopped. Nobody was there. He
wondered if he had been seeing things.
He moved to the pool. Then a station
wagon pulled into the service driveway
and stopped. A gardener got out and
came over to Pat who was staring down
into the pool.
“Lose something, mister?” the gar¬
dener asked.
Pat didn’t answer. He was looking
into the greenish depths of the water
under the diving board. Staring back
at him was the round white face of
Huntley Cains.
The gardener ran for a rake. To¬
gether they hauled the body out onto
the tiles. The gardener directed Pat
to the bathhouse and told him to use
the telephone and summon an ambu¬
lance.
Suspected of Murder
Pat ran inside. As he did so the
door slammed shut and a key turned in
the lock. When he went to the phone
he heard the gardener’s voice talking to
sopieone on an extension. The gardener
was reporting the murder and stating
that he had caught the young fellow
who did it.
With a sinking heart Pat realized the
gardener was speaking about him. He
was throwing himself breathlessly at
the door when the lock clicked and he

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found himself face to face with a girl.
She was Lawn Abbott, Helen’s strange¬
ly beautiful sister. Without listening to
his frantic explanations, she told him to
clear out as fast as he could.
Pat didn’t need any urging. He ran
as he had never run before. But it
didn’t do him much good. It wasn’t
long before he found himself in the
hands of Inspector Oscar Piper and a
prime suspect in a nasty case involving
the twisted, tangled lives of Huntley
and Helen Cairns, Lawn Abbott, hot-
shot lawyer Jed Nicolet, Harry Rade-
baugh, a young surgeon and others.
Pat had about given himself up for
lost when he appealed to Hildegarde
Withers for aid. Hildegarde, reluctant
to interfere with Piper, remained aloof
—but only for a time. Before she real¬
ized it she was picking up clues and
finding herself believing in Pat’s in¬
nocence.
As for the others, they all had mo-
_ _ [ Turn page]

CAPTIVATING!
 tives for killing Huntley. It wasn’t
and Tighten? easy to sort out those motives. And it
was still more difficult to find the vital
S^^fauk) clue. When Hildegarde did find it she
took some hazardous steps that led her
dangerously close to destruction.
: TEETH? You’ll have to read “Fear Death by
Water” to learn the full details of Hil-
degarde’s gray-haired escapades and
adventures. The old girl really has to
use her wits to save her skin as well
as Inspector Piper’s reputation. How
she does it is an exciting experience!
r.r and lower -or .end monw now. s»e C O.D.^ch.rB». £ All three of the novels we have been
discussing will be carefully abridged to
make for faster and more entertaining
reading. And, in addition, we have
scheduled some unusually fine stories
and features.

BSIHUIE OF APPUED SCIENCE, 1920 ! JURY JOTTINGS

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details today. B. LOWE, Holland Bldg., St. Louis, Mo. TFG again the comments are overwhelming¬
ly favorable. Our cases have been rated
top-drawer and the verdict by The
Readers’ Jury is one of great pleasure
and enjoyment.
For example, here is Milton Papayi-
anis of Barstow, California, who puts
in a strong vote for “The Night Before
Murder” by Steve Fisher, which ap¬
peared in our Spring issue.
Dear Editor: Steve Fisher I That versatile mas¬
ter of the pen is continually consistent. He has
depth, spine-chilling atmosphere and terrific sus¬
pense that he weaves into all his murder classics.
“The Night Before Murder” in your Spring issue
was only another example of his thrilling work.

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 in TRIPLE DETEC¬
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Well, Milton, we’re glad you like
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same way. Not only is he a top-rank¬
ing writer, but he happens to be a good
friend of ours. If he can find any spare
time away from his scenario writing on
the Coast maybe he’ll buckle down to jWlieo the burning, itching misery of prickly!
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also liked our Spring issue and while he from a doctor’s prescription, Hobson’s
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is at it, puts in a bid for our Summer folks for'SO-years to overcome prickly heat,
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Dear Editor: The Spring issue of TRIPLE DE¬ and rub in Derma-Zema. You’ll feel just
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was a truly bang-up job. I enjoyed every bit of means, get Hobson’s Derma-Zema Oint¬
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three novels by Dana Chambers, Constance 8s (department store—59c.
Gwenyth Little and George Bagby were tops. The
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What To Do For Pains of
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175
 THE TELL-TALE
TURKEY
jd _ ^ented CARDIWASTER.'Your^"todays* or. How a Counterfeit Ring
Not toy, but a sturdy advertising machine. Was Smashed!
Guaranteed for five years. Send name today!
By SIMPSON M. RITTER
SENDNAMEI';!Ir?D^Es^l'V.^-^tV„7^:
I F the counterfeiters hadn’t used some of
their bogus money to buy a Thanksgiving
turkey they might still be at large. In¬
stead, the members of the largest counterfeit
organization in the country in more than a
decade are now behind bars!
The farmer, whose name Harry D. Anheier,
Chicago chief of the United States Secret Serv¬
ice, wouldn’t reveal, didn't like the turkey
START YOUR OWN BUSINESS buyers or their money. He called in the au¬
thorities and with one note to go on they
trapped the largest outfit to operate since 1934.
The ring’s members had printed and "passed”

Relieve if I'll
more than $600,000 in worthless five, ten, and
Misery of 11 la HI
fK - Relieve itching caused by eczema,
tweny-dollar bills.
When Secret Service men apprehended Jo¬
£ lgL athlete's foot, pimples—other itch- seph Moschiano, an ex-convict, at his West Side
ing troubles. Use cooling, medicated
Chicago home, they also found $350,000 in
tie proves it—or money back. Ask fake money hidden in the walls of his garage.
Was. yourdruggist for D.D.O. Prescription.
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176
All five men in the ring were traced and ar¬
rested and most of the $600,000 was recovered AD DELS. Carpenters
by the Secret Service.
In 1934 the United States Secret Service
and Bilik lers Guides
broke up an even larger organization. A 4vols.$6
InsIdeTrade Information
"Count” Victor Lustig had brought more than
$1,000,000 in spurious bills into this country
from Europe, where they had been made.
Lustig and his cohorts were doing nicely '
until they got greedy and started pushing the
fake bills a little too fast and too often in the
same convenient places. Here, too, the Secret
SUSil
arimursdiraih*.
Service had almost nothing to work with at
first; but digging diligently they built a chain
that eventually linked every member of the
gang and rounded up all the bogus money. g{ _
According to the Secret Service, Europe has !°&__
Bettings 12,13 and 17 on the steel square—How
always been and is right now a very fertile to bulM hoists^gd^caffQJds^kyllghte^How J
field for counterfeiters of American green-

Dollar-hungry Europe, anxious for Ameri¬

can money, has perhaps $2,000,000 in worth¬
less notes hidden in private caches by unsus¬
pecting buyers, many of whom paid black
market prices of as high as three to one for
these American dollars!
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#150 Crossword Puzzles, Book Two
i 102 Duel In The Sun, by Niven Busch
POPULAR LIBRARY MYSTERIES I 94 The Mortal Storm,
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• 137 Six Times Death, by William Irish
• 120 The Spiral Staircase, by Ethel Lina While % 91 The Sea-Hawk, by Rafael Sabatini
• 121 A Losing Game, by Freeman Wills Crofts
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