THE GREEN GHOST

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 32, 7 February 1934, Page 17

THE GREEN GHOST

By STUART MARTIN (Author of "The Fifteen Cells," "Babe Jardine," "The Surf Queen," etc.)

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. JAMES BARRON "H.S been found dead in the study of his West Indian house, with a pistol at his feet, ids daughter MAUD having heard a scream and seen a flash at his window. The local doctor, examining: the body, is joined by Dlt. SIDNEY FOSTER, of the s.s. Meridiin., the ship in which Barron and his daughter usually travel between England and Jamaica, and which vessel is now in harbour. The doctors disagree about whether the fatal wound was selfinflicted. Foster decides to stay the night, when a one-eyed mulatto appears. He is DETECTIVE "OXE-EYE" UTTOCK, from the police. Foster has heard of Uttock as a detective who has never lost a man. His only weapon is an extremely hard cudgel, in which he cuts notches denoting men he has caught. "One-Eye" takes charge of the house, and, during Hie night, a hideous apparition appears before Maud Barron's window. Foster linds her inarticulate from shock. She is being attended by MRS. GIBBS, her companion. Foster soothes her, then he and "One-Eye" have a consultation with her. She tells them the story of the Green Ghost —how her father had been haunted by it for some time, and how she had considered it merely the outcome of his own Imagination. ' The ghost, her father believed, was that of an enemy of his, believed to be dead, who, before lie died, had been working with Vootlooists, or witch doctors. To relieve him of some of his business worries, a young man, WILLIAM HUGHES, had been appointed as assistant, but had not been a great success. After this consultation, "OneEye" sends Foster back to his ship to ask the captain for more leave, saying they will meet at the inquest on the morrow.

CHAPTER IV. 'The Inquest. It was just before mid-day when Dr. Foster arrived at the Barrons' home. The door was opened in answer to his knock by One-eye. The mulatto showed him into the large dining room, where lie found the arrangements for the inquest all complete.

The coroner was in the chair, the jury were seated ready to hear the evidence. The old doctor who had been called during the night was seated beside the coroner. The proceedings opened quietly enough. Maud Barron came down to givo her story. She sat white-faced and stricken on the coroner's right while he asked his questions and wrote down the answers. Then she was allowed to go. It was with a sigh of relief that she vanished from the room. The servants were called, and as they camo and told what little they knew the mulatto detective moved from the window where he had been gazing out on the lawn and took his position beside the coroner. He scrutinised every witness coldly and deliberately. The negro butler was first to give his evidence. The coroner asked One-eye if he had any questions to ask the witness. The mulatto stared at the negro. "Ever heard whether Mistah Barron had any enemies?" he asked calmly. "Enemies, suh? No, suh. Never a ono as could say a word against de boss." "Yo' ever bin in Barron's study when he was Uikin' photographs ?" "No, suh." "Yo' ever seen de pictures he took?" "No, suh." "Yo' ever know where he kept de pictures he took?" "No, suh." "Yo' bin long in de employ of dc lato Mistah Barron?". "Four years, suh." "Yo' native ob dis island?" '.'Yaas, suh." "Yo' Christian?" "Yaas, suh."

*'Yo' doan worship dc green snake of de Obeah?" "Me, suh? Oh, dear no. Ah'm de good Christian, baptised in de church." "Yo' neber tell lies?" "Nebcr, suh!" "Yo' air one big liar. Yo' tellin' lies now." The butler turned ghastly and his hands fumbled on the back of the chair behind which he stood. The jury leaned forward, but One-eye continued to stare at the negro coldly and without anger, though his words had been snapped out like the crack of a whip. "Lissen, yo'," he continued, fishing out a notebook from his pocket and turning over the leaves with his thumb, and addressing the trembling butler with studied contempt. "One nigger from de Black Republic, dat's what yo' air. Yo' came from dat island ob niggers ten years ago. Yo' may bp 'baptised in de Christian ch'uch, but yo' air one ob de small papaloys ob de debble worship. Ah kin gib yo' de dates when Ah saw yo' wid yo' fellow niggers in de forest doin' yo' silly dancin' and fire manoeuvres. Yo' attended a mcetin' ob dat same in a hovel up Spanish Toon way less'n a month ago. Yo' maybe wonderibi' why Ah doan ■ arrest yo' ? Yo' too small fry f'r me to arrest. Got anyt'ing to say agen what Ah tell yo' now?" The negro butler had to hold on to the back of the chair or his legs would have given way. Twice he lieked his lips before he could make any answer, and then his words came in almost a whisper, .

"No, suh, All ain't got nuttin' to say." "Stand obcr dere and behave yo'sel, nigger." One-eye laid Lis notebook on the table and nodded to the coroner that he Was finished with his examination. His jaws began to chew as if he had merely been talking on the weather, and Dr. Foster, sitting at the end of the room, could not suppress a smile at the complete way this mulatto handled his facts. The other servants were taken in turn, but they had little to add to what was already known. One-eye did not question any others, but when the old doctor was called and started to replv to the coroner's questions the mulatto raised his face and gazed fixedly, at the medical man. "You were called early this morning to this house 1" asked the coroner in a droning tond. . "I was," replied the old doctor, mopping his bald head with his handkerchief. "You found Mr. James Barron in a state of collapse, did you not?" "I found Mr. James Barron dead." "Dead 1" "Dead." _ The coroner wns writing this information when the door o' the room opened and a young man slipped inside. He was a dark-haired man, stoutly built, with a slender black moustache, his hair very glossy and parted in the middle. He was dressed in a dull grey tweed suit and wore a Gladstone collar with a black ' bow tie. He bowed to the coironer

quietly, and the latter returned his j salutation, whereupon the young man sat down on a chair beside Dr. Foster. The coroner continued his questioning. "Did you come to any conclusion as to the cause of death?" "I did." "What was it?" "Mr. Barron had died from the effect of a revolver shot." "Dead from the effects of a revolver shot," droned the coroner as he wrote rapidly. "How in your opinion was the fatal wound indicted? Have you formed any opinion '!" "I have. The wound was one which, I judged, could only have been inflicted by Mr. Barron's own hand. The revolver was lying on his crossed feet, having evidently slipped from his grasp after die had fired the shot. His clothing was singed just above the heart, which the bullet had penetrated." The coroner wrote a line or two. "That will be all, doctor," he said. "I take it that what evidence you have given is pretty conclusive—" "Ah Manna ask the doc a word, suh." "What, did you want to ask the doctor?" queried the coroner. "Ah wanna ask him what right he has to conic to the conclusion dat Mistah Barron killed hisself?" "I came to the conclusion because everything pointed to it," snapped the doctor, polishing his head rapidly. "The man was dead, killed, by a bullet, the revolver was at his feet—" " 'Sense me, doc. What yo' gotta say at dis heah inquest is how dis man died, dat is where do bullet killed him, not who fired dc shot." The doctor frowned, and the coroner made an effort to pour oil on troubled

waters. "Of course, wo realise that it is the privilege of the police to add the circumstantial details —" " 'Scuse me, suh, it ain't de privilege ob de police at all. It is de duty ob dc police." "Quite so, quite so. Well, if you care, f shall call you for the matter of detail—" , . , "Not for no detail. . I am hcah to show yo' all dat Mistah Barron did not kill hisself." As he spoke. One-eye rose to his feet and moved round to the chair in which every witness had sat. He glanced round the room as he moved, his eye taking in every person, and resting for a moment on the youiio: man with the dark hair who had seated himself beside Foster. He hesitated and made a motion towards the young man. "Ouess, coroner, yo' expected some Oder evidence to de effect dat Mistah Barron killed hisself?" "All, ah, yes, there was some evidence volunteered, but if you have anything to say that will upset such a point of view—" "Ah have, hut Ah kin wait.'' And once more the mulatto's gaze went to the young man with the dark hair. "Bettah git all evidence yo' want, coroner. Dis young man hcah—"

The young man rose and stepped forward. Bowing profoundly, lie took the oath. "I merely mentioned to the coroner, gentlemen, that in my close connection with the late Mr. Barron, I have had opportunities in plenty of knowing him and his unhappy moods. He had spoken to mo more than once about the possibility of taking his life, because he was so depressed and neurasthenic." "You are Mr. William Hughes?" said the coroner. "Perhaps I had better add your evidence in a few words. You are employed in looking after Mr. Barron's affairs'?" "I am." Foster had fourid himself studying this young man attentively. So this was William Hughes; who had not proved so efficient as he had been expected to prove. "Was there any financial reason for depression?" asked the coroner. "Well, none that I know of so far," replied Hughes, but giving somehow the impression that it was not by any means unlikely that such a state' of affairs would bo the "case. The coroner looked at One-eye, who had remained strangely stiff during the questions and answers. "What have you got to say, Detective Uttock?" One-eye's face lit up. He drew an oblong box from his hip pocket, and placed it on the table in front of the coroner. Then he glanced at the jury with a faint, ironical smile. "Ah jest wanna say dat Mistah Barron did not kill hisself."

"Can you prove it?" demanded the coroner, and every face was turned towards the mulatto. "Yo' bet. If a man shoot hisself his finger prints are on de gun. Dere were no finger prints a-tall on de revolver ly 11* on Mistah Barron's feet." He opened the oblong box on the tab!© and, with a pair of tweezers lifted out a revolver and placed it in front of the coroner. "Ah have tested de distance, suh, and it was quite possible for someone, or something, to lean in de open winder and shoot Mistah Barron close as if he shot hisself, an' den to lay de gun on his feet. Whoever, or whatever, did dat wore gloves—if it was a pusson." The jury gasped, and Dr. Foster leaped to his feet' and .advanced towards Oneeye, listening to every word. The mulatto went on, as if he were speaking to himself. "An' moreover, suh, ah guess I kin show yo' all what it was dat caused Mistah Barron to yell in fright, an' what it was dat Doe Foster an' myself seen not many hours after de death. If yo'Wanta know what killed Ijfistah Barron —I guess dis is de culprit." He plunged his hand into his pocket and laid down on the table a photographic print, over which every man bent, all piling on top of each other in their eagerness. A series of gasps and exclamations broke out, some in horror, some in sheer amazement, some in utter bewilderment. Dr. Foster struggled into that amazed group and saw, lying on that table, a print of the most frightful gargoyle of a face he had ever contemplated. The sight of that face for an instant stiipificd, paralysed, him. He uttered a shout of startling intensity; but the men who craned their necks beside him were too engrossed to heed him, for everyone was struck to his soul by the demoniacal features on the print. Dr. Sidney Foster stepped back, catching at his throat as he gasped at this unexpected, dramatic climax. The face on the photograph was the face of the green ghost. (To be continued daily.)