The QUEEN'S HALL MURDER

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 244, 14 October 1932, Page 12

The QUEEN'S HALL MURDER

By ADAM BROOME, Author of " Crowner , * Quert," etc

CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) Let.tice had .'returned to her grandmother's chair, which she bad' left in order to look after the tea table. He offered her a cigarette which ehe accepted, and lighting one for himself, prepared to -listen. "It's got to do with this idea of music which seems to run through all these awful things. , There's Parelli himself to start with. ' Then there's; ;the commissioner, in Africa who used to play the 'cello. Then there was Paola Bianchi, the opera singer, and I've suddenly put two and two .together and remembered that somehow Mollie Crowther was mixed up with music, too. I suppose that does not sound very strange to you —and there may be nothing in it after all. But it is true that girls of her age and class don't go in much nowadays for learning anything in the way of musical instruments. To begin with it coats money, and these are hard times. Then again, away in a country village like this, there's not as a rule very mitch talent for it—or taste either. And with gramophones and-.,'wireless in nearly every cottage, there's not much actual need for it. Not; at any rate, half as much as there used to be."

She paused., Stephen Garton was a little disappointed so far.' He had expected something a little more exciting, more convincing, altogether more sensational than this. *Tt seemed to him to be rather a far cry to connect Mollie's death with the others just because she happened to be one of the few little girls in the village studying music.

"Was she exceptionally good at it then, or what?"

He thought he ha<l better maintain some sort of a show of an interest which he really did not feel.

"That I can't tell you. And I don't think it matters'very much in any case; but we'll soon be able to find out. You've heard granny speak of Harry Lawford, the village organiet?" \ "Yes—l have. She told me once that he had promised to play the piece she is writing in memory of Parelli when hie murder'is at last avenged." "That's right," continued Lettice. "And it was Harry Lawford who was teaching Mollie Crowther to play." The tone in which she uttered the last remark gave Stephen the impression that she had expected it to cause a sensation. As a matter of fact it fell rather flat. "Sorry—but I cant see that that helps very much." The girl stamped her foot in annoyance. Clearly in her. own mind she had an idea, but that this fact that she had 'just produced linked up in any way with the mysterious series of deaths they had discussed he couldn't for the life'of him guess how or why.

"I'm not saying it's, a clue for the police or anything, like that. But surely any sort of connection between these things may be of some help in straightening things out in the end ? Granny hadn't touched any music for years till she came here to live with mother. I think she'd almost forgotten she'd ever done any at all. But she was rather struck, the first time she went to the little church here, by something the organist played' as a voluntary—or the way he played it—l don't remember quite which. Anyway, she got to know that the man who played the, organ on Sundays was the, man who kept the bicycle shop in the village. It's not far from here —just opposite the church— you must have seen it often enough; you pass it on your way here from the station^"

Stephen nodded. He was beginning to wonder in his own mind whether Lettice's recent shock hadn't upset her balance for the time being. He couldn't see any real connection whatever between what she was talking about and the mystery behind the train of events which they were so anxious to unravel. "Well," the girl continued, "Granny sometimes recently used to go down to his shop to get him to blow up her tyres or- attend to one thing or other that went wrong with the works of her invalid chair. She got quite friendly with him, and they used to discuss the pieces h'e was going to play as voluntaries in church on Sundays. And then it was that she began to revive her old interest in music. She got me to buy her a book in London on harmony and counterpoint, and she started to do exercises again. And then came the Parelli murder. I suppose she must have discussed Parelli with Lawford; afteiv all, you couldn't very well discuss modern music at all without some sort of reference to him, .could you?"-

"You could not," said Stephen Gartoii warmly. X* "Well, then. The death of Parelli, I suppose, together»with the encouragement of the organist, gave her some sort of lead in the way of composition again. §he determined to write a symphonic poem in his honour. I'm sure it must have been Lawford who put her up to it. And I'm quite certain that it was his own idea to play it in church on the day that the composer's death was avenged."

It still seemed all quite insane and fantastic to Stephen Garton. What could the musical chats between old Mrs. Manton and Harry Lawford, the bicycle Viechanic-organist, have to do with the Queen's Hall murder—or any other murder? And where did Mollie Crowther come in ? He felt more strongly "than ever that Lettice must be still a little unhinged by the shock she had recently experienced. And yet she had referred to some sort of a possible clue before the fright she had received. It was better, for the present, to say nothing. He would preserve an attitude of interest—an interest which he did not feel—until she came to the end of her extraordinary story.

"J,. can see," said the girl, "that you are going to say that you don't see where Mollis. Crowther fits in. Well—l don't say I do myself—yet. But Mollie Crowther 1 was musical —Mollie Crowther was a pupil of Harry Lawford's—and Mollie Crowther must, if that note on the sweet bag has anything to do with it, have known something about the mysterious Dr. Hawkes. "And don't forget that Dr. Hawkes is definitely—and by the police themselves —connected with the ' Queen's Hall murder."

"You don't mean that you suspect Harry Lawford himself?" Stephen Garton was frankly incredulous. *"I didn't say so. I only'say that if he's handled in the right way we ,may be able to get something out of him that may or may not be of some help."

Lettice Manton was a very differeTit person now from the frightened girl : ; w]io had almost gone into hysterics whru her grandmother's books had. fallen' on the floor-of the rr^m-above.-

CHAPTER XVI. The Village Organist. They had not very far to go to the organist's bicycle shop, but the evening was • decidedly chilly—there was the promise of snow in the cold night air— and both she and her escort had put on thick coats and muffled themselves up well. •

To Stephen Garton the whole thing seemed fantastic and absurd. How could an inexperienced girl pit' herself, with any hope of success, against tne machinations of this cunning murderer —he supposed there was only one murderer—who had for months not only successfully defied the police after the first tragedy, but had actually managed to commit three other baffling crimes whilst the first was still puzzling the brains of the most astute detectives hi the force? / Garton knew that the authorities had not the very vaguest idea of the identity of the murderer of Signor Parelli, noi as to whose brain it was behind the crimes of more recent date. Nor were they convinced in their own minds that, there was any connection between the tragedies or not. The use of curare as the poisoning a<*ent in three of the cases suggested some sort of connection. But it had not been employed in the case of the little girl, Mollie Crowther. The analyst's report, given at the inquest, showed quite conclusively that it was a large dose of strychnine, given in, or in conjunction with, the sweets which had been found on her, which had caused death in that instance.

The only possible link here was the reference to the mysterious Dr. Hawkes or "Horx."

If only the elusive Hawkes, or the person whom the false name covered, could be traced—there was sufficient evidence that the curare which Branksome had pilfered from the University laboratory had reached his hands—they would have a definite starting point. But there seemed little chance so far of their getting even that distance. The post office clerk at Brightmouth had produced to the police the original authority which Mollie Crowther had presented when first she went to claim letters and packages for Hawkes at the poste restante. He hadn't seen it himself; but there had been a reproduction of it in the Press at the time of the Crowther inquiry. It had been written in ordinary ink—in block letters—and was signed "Festus Hawkes, M.D." in ordinary script, which might or might not have been disguised. It had been handed in by the girl in an envelope.

The original letter—posted in Brightmouth, but giving a London address, which had been found to be fictitioushad made the request for the receiving of any letters addressed to the writer, and had stated that either he would call himself for them, or send a messenger with a written authority on his behalf. There were hundreds of letters received weekly—often for commercial travellers —in care of the poste restante, it was extremely difficult to recall isolated transactions.

The clerk remembered that he had received various communications for the addressee —but whether there were any packages or not he could not recollect. He did not know the girl, but as she had presented an authority there was no reason for him to make any special inquiries of her.

"You see—if Harry Lawford knew the girl well—as he must have, done if ho was giving her music lessons—she may have talked to him a good' deal . . .

Oh—it's too diabolical! They talk about doing away with capital punishment. Ordinary hanging is too good for the horrible creature who could murder that poor little girl—and for'his own devilish ends."

There were tears in Lettice's eyes. Stephen feared that she might again become hysterical. It was no good trying to change the subject in her present mood; he could only try to divert her thoughts to other aspects of the matter.

"But surely," he said, as they crossed the little village gi'een and approached the church, whose ancient square tower loomed up majestically out of the winter murk, absurdly out of proportion to the present size of Shallow, "the police would have gone into everything already 1" Lettice laughed. "Haven't you ever lived in a village? Do you know anything about the cauntry police and their methods? It was quite patent that Saxby would never have been suspected—let alone arrested —at all if the sergeant hadn't been such a precious idiot—they thought they could save the puzzling of such brains as they've got. But—" and the girl paused before she went on—"music, music, always music in the background. It didn't come out in the Saxby affair —-the Crowther case; but there it Was all the time, and nobody saw it'. I didn't myself."

Stephen Garton was surprised at Lettice's fancies. He was just as much puzzled as anyone else by the series of crimes, if it was a series, which had occurred so recently, and certainly that three of them—all, that was, except the most recent—sthat< of the death of Paola Bianchi—appeared- to have some sort of connection with Brightmouth. Bui he was not quite so positive about the musical motive—or should it be motif— in the cases. "Well—and what are you going-to : do now exactly?" (To be continued daily.)