Serial Story Murder

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 23, 27 January 1940, Page 7 (Supplement)

Serial Story Murder

GET TO KNOW THESE PEOPLE. '® vo 'y orphaned narrator of the talc; her Aunt Nella Gorrv owner of the inn at Pirate's He-id = wild Massachusetts promontory soaked in gruesome tales of more adventurous days; Uncle Wylio, a "wlfe-yessor"' 0 d Man Brown (but you can't moot ,?J B r°« n ): the Rev. Jonas do Witt, visiting clergyman; Lily Kendal, fat and holiday-making: Thaddeus Quincy, taciturn invalid; Albion Potter artist; Hugh Norcross, oligible bachelor; Bessie, Hugh's clinging-vine sister; Victor Quade, mystery-story trailer-dweller; and Roddy Lane, tragic owner of a ramshackle, hideously ornate, turreted castle on the clifHops. After Judy had seen Roddy's dead hand in a trunk in the disused Quaker Church, which she later nought at auction on anonymous instructions, a group of the guests at the inn go down and find—no body! But there are other clues—a bloodstained golf club, for instance. Then the bridge connecting the Head, which is an island, to the mainland, is blow up. And an old fish shed burns furiously at dead of night. Next morning thoy find outside the ruins Uncle Wylie's pipe, and, insido them, a charred body. Quade revoals his true identity—he is Victor Quinn. famous mystery story writer, on holiday. Then it comes out that the that h« r i'M sorved gaol, also that ho (and Nella and Wylie) had lost heavily when Roddy Lane's bank failed and Roddy's father committed suicido. Judy tells Quado that Nella ana wylio aro not really relations of nors. The anonymous lettor sont Judy vanishes—and the signatures of all i the guests are torn out of the inns register! Lily is suspicious of Quade after a visit by everyone to the Pirate s Mouth, an old buccaneor's hiding placo on the coast. Evorybody helps to re-enact the auction in tho church. Later, thoy find Lily Kondall's body in tha cleft of tho Pirate's Mouth. Judy's lost purso turns up—with Roddy Lane s solitairo diamond ring in tho powder compact. Tho boats aro found to be stove in and in the middle of a discussion on the varying aspects of stars* 130 hears a stop on tho + + * + Chapter XXIII. I HELD my breath and listened. Ves, the old stair creaked. Lightly, to be sure; but someone was walking up or down. The other guests didn't appear to notice. They were probably too busy eating. Victor was saying: "The thing to do now—" "Excuse me," I said, and hurried into the hallway and looked up the stairs. I caught a swish of a woman's skirts, and presently a door closed. Bessie Xorcross, of course! Maybe her sleeping medicine hadn't worked yet. 1 glanced at the dining room clock. Why, it still lacked three minutes to one! What a day! Already I'd lived a hundred years. "How long would it take you to get one of those boats lit to cross the gap under where the bridge was?" Victor asked Uncle Wylie. * "There's be a sailboat or somep'n along before I could patch up The Eleanor. Whyn't you all just take it easy till someone turns up? Fixed me a megaphone, but don't see as I'll need it now. Wind's turned. Carry what we say across." Ho finished his last morsel of cottage pudding, folded his napkin neatly and offered, "I'll go set by the bridge and wait. Shall I?" Trust Uncle Wylie to choose "to set" instead of repairing a leaky bottom! "We'll come along and join you, t Gerry," tho minister said. "Want me to push your chair, Mr. Quincy?" "No, thanks," returned Mr. Quincy coldly. "I'll keep away from cliffs and broken bridges till the police get here." "I move we go have another look at Mr. Quade's trailer," Hugh said. "I'm remembering a few things besides the scarf," he added darkly. "Go with me, Potter?" "I Don't Trust Victor Quade!" Albion shrugged. "Oh, I might as well. Nothing to paint—now. I wish to heaven the police would coiue, so a body could settle down again." Reluctantly lie followed the leader, as per usual. Hugh stopped by 1113* chair. "Jud\ r , if my sister should come down while we're gone, tell her everything's all right, will you?" "Of course, Hugh." He smiled at me-wanly. "Damn the whole business. I told Bessie., she was a fool to come here. Old memories! Couldn't she have settled them at some other resort—Hvannis or Nantucket? No, she was hell-bent to see if she was cured of her affection for that —that bounder. • Well, she's got her —" He muttered something that sounded like bellyful, and immediately added, "Pardon me, Judy. I don't know what I'm saying." And went out with Potter. Victor was having a word with Uncle Wylie at the foot of the front steps, and Aunt Nella was coralling me to help her. "Dishes, Judy. Please!" "You bet, Auntie. Feel terribly guilty, but—" And I gave her all the dirt while we hustled through. I kept a good lookout, too. I could see Uncle Wylie's bent figure down at the bridge. In the living room, cooler than the porch, the men were gathered, still talking things over. Hugh and Potter had come back with no information about the trailer which would add to unravelling the mystery. They'd poked into every nook and corner, dreading to find they knew not what, and returned looking a trifle foolish.

t "Uh-huli." I clipped up the stairs. ° The linen closet adjoined the bathroom, c I found the faded old cloth I wanted - and was about to run down again when ii tiie sound of crying reached me from up the liall. Poor Bessie Norcross I No h wonder she couldn't sleep, t I tapped on her door. The weeping G stopped immediately. I tapped again. The least I could do was to gi?* Jior her brother's message. And the lease she could do, I thought, was to learn Y how he was. I tapped a bit louder, e "Miss Norcross!" Rap-rap-rap! "Bessie, it's Judy." d I heard her stirring and waited, but t she didn't unlock the door, r "Bessie, I've a message from Hugh. I, Open tho door." d I could hear her bed springs creaking - again. Then footsteps. She came close cl to the door. This time the crying comd meneed again. "I'm all right, Judy. For heaven's d sake go away. And give this to the police when they come."