SEVEN MEN'S SINS

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 157, 5 July 1935, Page 15

SEVEN MEN'S SINS

("The O. Henry of Crime")*

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS EPISODE

While the minutes tick past on the night before an execution, the new hangman <>t Dartpark prison faces the new chaplain in a room o* the grim building! '•There must be no leniency for murderers,*' cries the lIANCMAX, embarrassed by the CHAPLAIN'S implied policy of mercy. Vet the hangman is puzzled by his own theory. To clear his mind and to convince the chaplain he starts to tell of the five men he has hanged. A second listener joins them —the chaplain's liancee, daughter of the Home Secretary. The story began with the disappearance in South Africa of the Bloodstone, a magnificent diamond. A world limit for it failed, and the detective in charge of the case disappeared, his health broken. But the gem was thought to be in England, and a certain TREVOR was suspect. MACHIN, a burglar, seeking the diamond, murdered a man, but it was the wrong Trevor—Hangnia n Trevor. "I got the dead man's position," explains the chaplain's visitor. MATT DENT, veteran crook, thought lie was getting the Bloodstone when he wrecked a car in which Trevor was supposed to be going to London, and threw the driver over a cliff. But BBMBKIDGE, wily fence, who was behind Trevor, double-crossed both men. The jewel was still missing. An unrecognisable body was washed ashore —and Dent was hanged. Bembridge was shot dead by a night visitor. His handyman told the police that among Bembrldge's callers winr* a man name,! Trevor. EPISODE FIVE. "Well, sir, this man had said lie had some pearls to sell, and I knew that the lady upstairs wanted pearls. Mr. Bembridge had promised her some. But the man didn't want to sec anybody but the boss." "So you say this man called again to-night, and your heard him? Go on." "I expected "that Air. B.embridgc would see. to the caller. Then just a little afterwards, I heard a bang. I never thought it was a shot. It might have been the front door slamming.. Soon I heard the maids making a row. So I i went up to see what was the matter. ! Aiid there was Mr. Bembridge lying dead. That's all I L """» " The constable finished writing, and looked up. The ins pector glanced at tho handyman. "All right. That's all just now. You will sign this statement and go to your room. If I want you again I'll expect to find you there." The constable who acted as scribe soon finished writing and pushed the sheets across to the inspector, who read the statement aloud, and then asked the handyman to sign at the end and initial every page. "Send the maids in, one at a time," ordered the inspector. "1 want them in the order of their service, longest service first." The .servant who came to the dining rooiri was a tall woman, perhaps 40 years of age, attractive and selfpossessed. There was a hint of opposition in her pose as she sat down arid drew her coat over her. "Are you the cook?" asked the inspector. "I am madam's maid," she answered coldly, without looking at the inspector, her gaze fixed on the constable who was taking down her answer. "It was 1 who first discovered that Mr. Bembridge was dead." Her story was soon told, while the inspector watched her closely and shot • his questions at her. She had been in bed when she heard the bedroom door of her employer open. Then there was a noise. She put her head out of the room and saw a light in the hall; looked over the banisters and saw Mr. Bembridge lying on the floor. "I suppose your mistress heard the shot also?" "Naturally, since she knew someone was at the"front door. When I went to her she was in a state of panic..; I calmed her a bit and made her lie down. Then the priest came up, and between us we got her settled a bit. But I ought to be with her now, poor dear." "How long have you been with your mistress 1" _ than four yeaic." "Do you know whether Mr. Bembridge had any enemies?" ''How can I know that?" "If you have been four years—" "Excuse me, I have been four years in m;dam's service, not his. I know nothing about his business." "Very well," the inspector said. "Sign your statement, and go up and ask your mistress to see me when she. is able. Then come down again' and remain in the room across the hall. //By the way, tell your mistress I don't want to distress her, but I must' sne /her. I will go up to her room." She signed her statement defiantly, but with a hand that was not too steady, ' while she kept that aloofness she had adopted from the moment she entered the room. She kept her eyes off the inspector all the time, regarding him, apparently, as an inquisitor. She preferred to keep her gaze on the young constable who had written the statement and when she handed back the sheets' to him she faced him calmly, eye to eye. "Can I do anything for you?" • she asked, with a touch of pert sarcasm. "Nothing whatever, thank you," he answered with a frank smile; and she stalked from the room. The inspector looked after her, and then shrugged his shoulders as he remarked to his subordinate. "She scored one against me Women are funny, things, aren't they?'" "They are, sir," agreed the smiling . constable. . He was a very good looking constable and his inspector was grizzled and un- | attractive. \ ■ The two other servants were brought in, and in turn corroborated what the first had said. ~ As soon as they had gone the inspector turned to the constable again. "You've got your own report to write now?" -"Yes, sir." "Very well, do it while I get on to the Yard and call up the station."

.■ By Stuart Martin.

The inspector had just completed his conversation on the telephone when the maid returned to say that her mistress would receive him if he would go up. He went up leisurely, his hands behind bis back. Seated in a big armchair was the woman he had come to interrogate, and it was easy to see that she was suffering from nerves. She was wrapped in a°gorgeous robe of black silk, embroidered with a Japanese design in colours. Her blonde hair gave her a beauty that was decidedly striking; and her hands, which were clasped on her lap, were limp and motionless. She was young, too, a woman of whom any man "might be proud. Standing in the room was the clergyman who had been with her and the maid. "I have been giving her a little comfort, sir," said the priest as the inspector entered. "I shall leave you together, as I suppose you don't need my presence?" "If you don't mind." replied the inspe; tor. "But I won't be long." The clergyman went out by a door leading to a sinnil room beyond the bedroom. It was fitted up as a study, and the inspector saw at a glance that this other room had been the private apartment of Mr. Bembridge. The priest closed the door behind him. "I would have come down, inspector," said the lady, raising her hands to her face to hide" her emotion, "but it is so terrible —" "Please don't disturb yourself, madam. We shall find the murderer, 1 am quite sure." He saw that she was trembling violently, and he did his best to ease her sorrow, "Had Mr. Bembridge any enemies?" lie -asked gently. "Oh, you mean these men who called at night sometimes? Ido not know, inspector. Tt is no good hiding from you the truth that Bembridge did business with some queer characters."

"So I understand," said the inspector drily. "Not to put too fine a point on it, he used to buy goods that were — well, that might have been stolen?" "Oh, I can't say that; but I admit that ho had strange dealings. He was always a very secretive man, and would tell little to me." "You don't know who this mnn was who wanted to see him to-night?" She shook her head slow]}'. "I never met his business people, inspector." "You can think of no one else?" "Nobody at all." "Are you sure ?" "Of course, I am sure. I do not understand you,- inspector." "I have been speaking to your maid. She has been with you over four years." "Well?" There was a catch in her voice. "The police know things, madam. But I had my reasons for examining your maid. I am seeking the motive for the murder of Mr. Bembridge. You observe that I have not addressed you as Mrs. Bembridge." He said no more, for the blonde, beautiful woman shuddered, her face went livid, a spasm passed through her frame. With a low moan she sank into a swoon on the floor. ■The inspector lifted her and laid her on the bed. He walked over to the door through which the priest had made his exit, and turned the handle. There was no one in the study. The priest had evidently gone downstairs. The inspector called aloud for the lady's maid, and the maid came running. He walked down the stairs and into the dining room, where the young constable was finishing his report. The inspector stood mopping his brow, lost in thought. A knock came to the door and the priest's head popped into the room. "Are you there, inspector? May I have a word with you?" The inspector went out. The priest was clasping his hands together. "I did not know," he said in a low voice, "that's —well—that there was not the usual—well, I thought she was Mrs. Bembridge —until she admitted —" "I knew it, sir," replied the inspector, calmly. "It has been a bit of a shock to me, inspector. I came to offer my conso lations, thinking, well —you understand. I don't think I can stay now. '■'■ It is very shocking and very difficult." "That is all right, sir," said the inspector jvith a sour smile. "We are somewhat used to these things. Goodnisrht." The priest went out shaking his head gravely, and the inspector returned to the dining room. , He lifted the sheets of the report which the constable had written out, read them through, and laid them down. He glanced at the body of the murdered man" which was still in the hall. "You came to this house just after you heard the shot?" asked the inspector. . "Yes, sir. Just a few minute* afterwards. I have mentioned in my report that as I came along I passed a man walking in the opposite direction. I did not connect him with the shot at

the time, but I have given what description of Mm I can remember — The inspector turned on him sharply. "You will never rise in your profession, lam afraid. Your observation and inference aren't by any means good. If we had to rely on you the murderer would escape easily enough. Don't you see that owing to your laxity we are presented with more difficulties than we ought to have to consider?" , "I am very sorry, sir." "However, you have been in the police ess than a year, so there may be some sort of excuse for you. The great point in such crimes is to find the motive, since you have prevented U3 from taking the criminal by this time." The young constable was humbled. "Have you found the motive, sir?" "I have. Listen to me. Both of you." The constable who was in the hall drew near. The inspector mopped his brow slowly. "A few years ago," he said slowly, "there was a society wedding of some interest. It started with every hope of success, but after three years it ended disastrously. The young people separated. The young wife could have been divorced, but the young husband would not divorce her. It may be that lie loved her in spite of her unfaithfulness, and in spite of her frivolous and rather blatant disregard for her vows. Both their pictures were in the newspapers at the time. I knew them both quite well by sight." He stopped, mopped his brow again, and then continued: "The young wife, since ehe could not get a divorce, took matters into her own bands. She went to the man she wanted, because he could give her all she desired in the way of gay things and decorations. She is upstairs now. The r.ian who took her from her husband is lying there on the floor, murdered." The inspector shrugged his shoulders, and stepped towards the hall table, picking up the revolver with which the murder had been committed. "I have been upstairs," he said, "and I have been seeking the motive. The woman upstairs, whom I have talked to, is innocent. She is not to be considered. But if we only had the man who fired the shot we would have the murderer of Bembridge, who dealt in stolen goods, even in stolen wives. Now the man who fired that shot wore gloves—woollen gloves. A wisp of his glove was caught bv the trigger." The inspector looked up, his attitude of reflection changed suddenly.

"As for you," he said to the young good-looking constable, "how do you ever expect to succeed as an officer if you are so careless? You are careless in more things than observation and inference." The young officer bowed his head before the rebuke. His fingers fumbled nervously with his belt buckle. The inspector continued rapidly. "That lady's maid and you had eyes for each other. I watched you. The maid, I presume; tokl the woman upstairs not to come clown here. Now, I know I am right in that. But let me show vou something!" He "bent down suddenly beside the dead, man and opened the clenched right fist. "Look!" he cried, rising and jerking the young constable's belt upwards with his finger. "You were on this bia-t at your own request to watch Bembridge for evidence of hie dealings with crooks. But you need not try any longer to hide the button you've lost from your tunic! Here it is—clasped in the hand of Bembridge! I saw it when the doctor and I were examining the body. That look between the lady's maid and you confirmed your identity. You never saw any man walk past you on your beat. I was at the top of the street and all was quiet. The dead man convicts you!" The young constable did not move, but a faint smile- passed over hie pale face. "Put down your revolver,"sir," he said quietly. "I joined the police in _an assumed name to get him without bringing her into it. I knew he was a crook, ami when I saw her with him—well. I'm not sorry I killed him.". He held out his wrists for the handcuffs to be snapped on by his mate. Whereupon the inspector marched upstairs again muttering to himself! "And now to search for the Bloodstone!" But although he searched he did not find the jewel. How had the police been foiled? Read to-morrow of the next stage in this fateful quest for a jewel.