Clip the Cemera Clues.

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 101, 2 May 1939, Page 17

Clip the Cemera Clues.

"Yee, a. Graflex focueed on the evidence table." Allenby made no effort to conceal his elation. "See that black covered box on the reading table? No, over yonder, camouflaged amonjr some magazines. Know- what's in there! And in that other box on the wastebasket beneath the desk?" Lunt paesed a puzzled hand over his sun darkened brow. "2io, sir. All J ran see are wire*." "They furnished light for a picture of the person who came to steal the belt I" "Then, sir," Lunt looked very troubled, "you didn't get no picture. If any light* had gone off I'd have s»een them. The room's been pitch black all along." "The strange part of it is, constable, that you're quite right—and I still have my picture." Roger Allenby emitted a satisfied chuckle on testing flret one box and then the other. Both of them were warm. "It's ell right; with any luck I've got what I want." Hurriedly* he added, "Prop a chair under that door with the broken lock. Good. Now make sure that all the windows are tight, then you can make yourself comfortable till I come back." Aβ he stepped out into the night, soft, wind-driven rain slapped at Allenby's feature*, already damp with the perepiration of intense anxiety. Had he calculated hie exposure correctly? Had the thief been facing the camera? Doubts harassed his progress down to the boathouse. There he ehould find

the developing material he bad requested. Funny, lie recognised the fierce impatience of a fanner's boy Uurrying out to inspect a promising line fit' woodchuck traps. WJiuse ? Whose 1 Whose face would materialise oil the plates? <iood thing the thief never hud guessed a picture had boon taken. Twice Allenby stumbled in his headlong eagerness, but he wax encouraged to behold a dim light in the living quarters above the boat shed. "You're just in time," Inspector Boyd jrieett'd. glancing up from a little; alcohol stove. "I'm .ju«st fixing a of tea. Any luck?' , "Yes, by jove!" Allenby held up the camera. "It worked, inspector, it worked! Hairing accidents, we'll know in a very few moments who wanted that belt!"

The last trace of sleepiness departed from Inspector BoydV manner. He turned to wiry, shrewd-looking Constable Turner. ' - Go and wake lip Mr. Tyson."' Then Boyd added in an undertone, "The old man's worried sick about this. You realise, of course, he's assumed a hit of responsibility, giving you such, a free hand?" "I appreciate his confidence, inspector—very much." "Hear you've bad luck, Major. That's capital, capital!" Tyson'appeared pulling on his coat as be came. "Satisfactory, wouldn't it, if we could have the criminal off the island before daylight without any fuss or nonsense *"' J>onning an acid marked emock and removing his necktie, Roger Allenby entered a small improvised dark room, measured out his developer, filled an enamel pan with fixing fluid, then proceeded methodically with other preparations. Turner and Tyson remained to watch, though Boyd departed to make a hurried examination of the porch outside the damaged French door. "No use taking chances," Allenby announced, switching off a small eafe-light

rigger! overhead. "I'll have to work in complete dark. This type of film is particularly sensitive." To the end of his career Roger Allenby could always recall those tenee moments, the smell of the chemicals as he removed the glass plate's covering , , the soft elobbery swash of the developer surging back and forth over the precious plate. It sounded loud as a raging sea. Ktcrniließ seemed to drag by ere Allenby thought it safe on switch on his safe-light and glance at the negative. "Is—us* it all right?" breathed Tyson, crowding close. He needed no answer. Everyone could see that the negative was sharp and its subject well centred, but since it -eemed a little lindeiTixed. Allcnbv hastily switched out the light and continued the developing process. At last he dipped the plate into distilled water, then turned on the bright light. "Iβ it okay now?" Turner was panting a«5 if lie had run a race. "Yes. Let's see what we've got," Allenby said, raising the plate to the light. "Heavens, it's a woman!" Tyson buret out. "But which one is it, sir?" Turner demanded. Allenby stepping back, felt a small trickle of ice water descend his spine, .-o great was his astonishment. Through lips that felt tight and very dry, he said, "It's a fairly clear picture, but from the negative it's hard to say just who it might be." 'How soon can you get a recognisable [Hint "'.'' Tyson demanded. "Oil, about four minutes after the plate <hies." "How long will that take?" "Three-quarts of an hour if you brought that eleelric toaster I a«ked for. —And did you locate a fan?"