Clip the Camera Clues.

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 80, 5 April 1939, Page 26

Clip the Camera Clues.

That Inspector Boyd knew his job. Allenby appreciated immediately. The C.T.I), man said little, made no effort to touch the corpse, but studied the ground with care. In concluding his survey he picked his way to the summit of that little cliff over which Patricia Fortier had fallen to her death. "Accident, all right," Grafton sMied. "See?" And indeed the three other men could very clearly discern a scraped place made by the unfortunate girl in falling. Somewhat lower a broken branch at-tested-Patricia's frantic efforts to stay her fall. They all could see a brokeiioff cedar branch tip lying among a clump of larkspur. "Careful!" Allenby warned when, under Constable Lunt's weight, the brink commenced to crumble and send a small shower of coral pebbles down into the old quarry's bottom. "Does look like an accident, pure and simple," Constable Lunt remarked, mopping hie forehead. "That ground crumbles very easy. You can even see a sort of path where she knocked the dew off the bushes as she came up here." He peered over the edge, "Quite a drop." "It is high." agreed the C.T.D. man and. closing his notebook, he turned to (•rafton. "That's all for the moment, sir. Will you have a sheet fetched from the house? Well cover the remains and wait for l>r. (.'osling's verdict." "How soon can he come over to the island?" Allenby queried casually. ' "As soon as I can reach him. You know the law heref "Why, no." "I do," Grafton grimly interpolated as they regained.the front hallway of Freebooter's Hall. "A dead body must l>e buried before sundown of the day that person died; unless the death occurs after noon. Am I right, constable?" "Quite," returned the other man. "Bv the way, Mr. Grafton, was that your sailboat we eaw anchored in Treasure Cove?" An observer far lees astute than Roger Allenby could not have escaped Grafton's wide-eyed astonishment. "Why, no. What's the name on it?" "Couldn't make it out. but she's a dark green, one-design sloop; looked like Stanley Gibbons' rig. ,, "That's the Bonita all right," Grafton replied thoughtfully. "Young Gibbons and my daughter'went fishing

yesterday afternoon—got Gibbons probably spent the night aboard her." Allenby's host slipped a telescope from a case lying on the calling card table. ''Here, you can see him plainly through this glass."

"Why didn't he come ashore" Allenby queried.

("■rafton looked aside, considering with absurd interest a perfectly commonplace begonia. "Well, you see, he's a very sensitive fellow; probably doesn't want to wear out his welcome."

Inspector Boyd queried politely, "Will you send someone out, Mr. Graf ton, or shall we ask him to come ashore"'

"Suppose we bring him in?" Orafton suggested. "I'm going to waken the rest of the guests and tell them the news and get it over with."

'"[ wouldn't rouse them yet," Inspector Boyd commanded rather than advised. "The Coroner may be able to reach a decision before they get up. You sec our procedure will necessarily be different if J)r. Gosling feels death wasn't —er—accidental." The group broke up, Constable Ltint departing for the police boat, Graf ton to his loom, and Allenby and the C.I.D. man to the telephone. Here the latter spoke briefly and to the point with the result that Dr. Gosling promised to reach Plunder Island as quickly as possible. Replacing the receiver, Inspector Boyd glanced up, eyes narrowed in thought. ''Major—to my mind—there's only one thing out of the way about this business." "Yes." ''Yes. It's that little clump of feathers with the needle in them. Why is it there? What were they for? Otherwise it seems like an open and shut case of accidental death—certainly all the evidence points that way." '"It does look very much like it," Allenby admitted. "The feathers bother me. too." The dark young inspector looked up suddenly. '"Bet J. know what it was— it's the beginning of a hat or dress ornament of some kind. Any further observations, sir?" "Yes. the poor girl must have been killed instantly." '•How could you tell that?" '"Her chest looked inflated—as if she'd drawn breath to scream, but had died before she could cry out. Another thing, she died somewhere between 4.0 and 4.30 a.m. She hadn't been lying there long wheu I found her." "Whv?' ,

"T raised her wrist and there was no trace of rigor mortis, although she had been lying on the cold rocks and was wet with dew."

Into Inspector Boyd's brown features crept a new interest. "Did you say you were a banker. Major?"

"Come -outside," begged the grevhaired investigator in a lowered voice, "and I'll tell a few things about myself it's best you know."

A few minutes later Boyd was gazing nn his companion in astonished awe.

"(iood lord. sir. you're not the Major Allenby who recovered the Loft us emeralds?"

''Gliilty. your honor." Allenby ad mitted, applying a match to his pipe.

of feet and Peter, freshly scrubbed and pink-cheeked, dashed out to assume an Horatius-at-t he-bridge stance. '"Hello, Uncle Roger," lie greeted. "I've been fine, only Trumps got away. Have you seen Trumps?" 5 "Yes. He's all right." "Oli-b, you've got your camera! Will \'ou take another picture of me V Trumps said lie wants one with him."' A pleasant let-down, this moment. Allenby nodded. "Why sure, Pete, I've got a couple of exposures left, so suppose we go down to the back garden. We can get some good ones there and Trumps won't see any cats to chase." '"That's a good idea." Peter agreed. "My Mummy will like it on account of she always likes pictures of me."