THE LAUGHING GIRL MYSTERY

Gisborne Times, Volume LXXXIV, Issue 12869, 23 May 1936, Page 2

THE LAUGHING GIRL MYSTERY

SUMMARY OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. Sheridan Din am, a young expert at a museum when on a visit to his fiancee who lives in an apartment house, is amazed at finding a replica of a statuette recently excavated in Egypt as a door-knocker in one of the apartments occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Foggs, an elderly couple. Ho hears laughter inside but it stops suddenly. Re pictures the person laughing as a beautiful blonde. That night a blonde girl is found murdered in the room and A 1 r and Airs Coggs who had been absent, know nothing of the girl. Sheridan rings up Atari in, the caretaker of the museum, who after a' search states that the statuette is missing from the museum. Marlin then disappears. The police find that the hole inside the door' in which the strange knocker rested has been closed up with putty. Sheridan takes his fiancee home and in procuring her a smock sees a long new scratch at the hack of the cupboard. .Next day he finds a Florentine dagger at the musuem missing. The police arrive at the museum for signs of Marlin and ascertain that he had been keeping company with the landlady’s daughter hut had informed her that ho was married, and as his wife was insane lie could not get a divorce. At the apartment house next day Sheridan’s fiancee tolls him that on the papers on her desk in her room she found a strange baggage check, and threw "it away, though she remembered the number, S—l!—663. Next day the police find the dagger in another case in the museum and discover that the murdered girl had arrived from England. In the course of questioning Sheridan’s fiancee she discovers they know of the baggage check she destroyed. Sheridan wants to marry his fiancee but to his consternation finds the marriage license missing. The caretaker Oswald tells the police that he and his wife decided that as the Coggs’ appartment was vacant they would use’ the room to have a quiet conversation. He got the key from a nail and it would not fit. Later he tried again and found that on this occasion the key fitted and he and his wife became terror-stricken. Tie states that no one else knew where the key was kept.

INSTALMENT XVII

rpHERE was a moment’s silence. Then Alby pressed a button on his desk, and Stevens entered, in his dark glasses and walrus moustache, carrying a stack of pads and pencils. Alby cleared his throat. “Y r ou all know,” he began in a low but clear voice, “that a murder has been committed. You have all liad some relation to circumstances either immediately or distantly connected with the murder. I do not say that the murderer is among you. I do say that it is within the power of each of you to contribute your co-operation in helping solve this murder.”

There was a murmur as he paused. “I have, therefore,” he went on. “prepared a pledge of secrecy as to what goes on here. Mr Harrod will dictate it slowly. l T ou are all to write it, read carefully what you have written, and then sign it.” He nodded to Stevens, who passed the tablets and pencils. JDr. Coo said, “No thanks. This doesn’t concern me.” “You certainly can write what is dictated,’’ Alby snapped. '“You may use your own judgment as to signing it.”

Dr. C’oe’s eyes raked him scornfully, but be took the tablet. Stevens stood on one side, his eyes on Sheridan. “Ready?” Alby asked. “All-right. Harrod.” Harrod dictated each sentence rather quickly:—•' “I hereby deny that I have any bidden knowledge relating to the murder under investigation. Should .-iny such come to my attention, 1 shall swiftly and fully convey it to the District Attorney’s office. f also promise not to divulge to individuals or to the press any information obtained in these interviews today. ”

“Now,” Albly commanded, “write fo-dav’s date, and the hour—four-thir-ty p..m Got that?” “And now rend carefully what you have written, and sign vour names. A refusal to sign”—he looked at Doctor Coe—“will be subject to interpretation.”

The scratching of pencils censed. Stevens collected the signed statements. banded them to Alby. who glanced at them, and returned them to Stevens. Stevens ' toolr them Trent tlie room, but returned as Alby began to question Arthur'Hibbard, thd florist’s clerk.

“Now, Mr Hibbard,” Alby was saving, “1 want you to tell - us ■ exactly: what happened in your shop' yesfordav afternoon.” ' “It’s,not mv shop.” the young man replied in a’ frightened voice. “‘T just work there. Tint T waited on her—the lady that—-that, -was m-imrdcred.”, ' “Oan you describe her?” -“She was the same—the. same lady 7 saw at tlie morgue just now. Onlv yesterday she was’ dressed differently.” ' '

"How.was slio dressed?’* "She had a. brown ‘tweed suit. on. and n, hrown hat. And cotton "loves. And a littlo‘suit-case, kind of shabhv. i didn’t cxnoet a t all she’d buy rnnch, Tint when she talked she had ah' English accent.' And yon' nevhr can ‘t<?ll ' about" fdreignbrs.” ■" . ' "What did sho say, exactly?” "As near as I can remember, she said. ‘What a siornrv variety of flowers !’ That’s how she pronounced extraordinary. I said, ‘I guess you’re Erigliiih’'. And she said, ‘Yes. I’ve, ! just arrived’. And I said,-- ‘I hear English folks have swell* gardens”'And site said,' ! ‘Yes, the’ I’Ve lived mostly in cities; hutwhen I was a child l once spent a summer with a ■ ■great-uncle' who' had a gafden with "roses,'like those,’ and she pointed to a basket of Senior roses. ’Not like those'’ I said, ‘That’s a new rose, that is, only Just come out this year. • It".just got a prize last"week at the flower show 5 . ‘Oh, really.?’" she saj's. ■‘Well,' I-pjrohahly reiriemher wrong? I was only ‘ f:'vb ’o,t. tiid time, ■ and just

By VIOLA PARADISE (Copyright to the Gisborne Times)

getting over measles. The roses were rather taller t'han'l, and a little eoiisin lifted me up to smell them—,’ ”

Young Mr Hibbard stopped and blew his nose. The room was silent! “Then J said, ‘Lots oF people wouldn’t know the difference between a new rose and an old one’. And then she said, ‘How much are these?’ And L said. Six dollars a dozen, because the steins are so long.’ But I told her 1 hud others just as beautiful for much loss, only with shorter stems. And she says ‘no, she’d take two dozen of these, please.’ And she had trouble'figuring it out, on nccouht of the money not being English. And she said, ‘l’ll take them right along.’ So .1 put them in a box and went, out to ’the' kerb and hailed a taxi for her. And sho gave me a dime and a real nice smile. And she told the taxi somo number on Twelfth Street.- I sure never would of guessed she could afford roses like them and a tip—”

“What time did she leave vour i shop?”

“A little after five. She seemed all ot a. sudden in a hurry, like she had an appointment.”

“That will be all, thank you. You needn’t, wait,” said Alby. “Now. Mr Stong.”

John Stong, the middle-aged clerk of the Hotel Astrakan, sat forward in his chair and began to speak before bo was questioned. “All T know is, about half-past, seven a man calls up and says did a trunk come. He gave the check to an expressman, who said it would be right over, and T said no. And Ho said if it comes, please have it put in his room, and did I have a room that was quiet. And I says yes. And he says how much, and I says three dollars with hath and two-fifty without. And he says without bath, and his name was Dennis Swift, and he’d be there soon. And about eight o’clock the expressman coined —not a regular expressman, but a man with a horse and waggon. I thought it kinda funny, but this fella explained every now and then they get business from somebody wanting something delivered in a liurry, and not wanting to wait till the regular routing of the big companies. So we had the trunk put in the room, and after a- while along comes this fella and ho registers his name, Dennis Swift. And Joey there took him up to his room, and that’s the last 1 noticed of him.”

‘Y T ou didn’t see him go out?”

“I did and 1 didn’t: I saw him, without exactly lookin’ at him. He left his key at the desk, but I didn’t pay no attention.” “Do you see anyone in this room who looks like Dennis' Swift?” asked Alby. A murmur ran through the room.

“No, I don t. But like I said. I hardly noticed him coming or going. Id ain’t that I’m not willing to tell you. It’s iiust I was thinking about my own affairs. I’d liad some -words with my wife, and, Joey Timmott there, he probably saw more. He’s a cliempeen observer.” “All right, then, we’ll ask Joey Timmott. 'Will you tell us exactly whnt happened from the time Dennis Swift arrived?”

Y’oung Joe Timmott’s wide but shrewd eyes shone with the excitement and importance of being connected with a. murder. “First thing I noticed was before .tin’s Dennis Swift came,” said Joey. “There was something kinda phoney about his trunk.”

“Phoney?” queried Alby. “Well, it, liad a ship's- label on it. but the fella that owned it went out and got a special expressman because he was in a liurry. But if be was in a liurry, why didn’t he bring it from the ship in a taxi? And then, even though it wasn’t, a wardrobe trunk, the initials on it, D.S., looked like they’d boon printed for a lady.”

“Just how do you mean?” “T clunno exactly. But they was small with a kind of extra, swish on the S., as if the fella that painted it on kinda liked the person he done it for. So I says to the porter, ‘Betclia a nickel that was a lady’s trunk to start.’ And he says, ‘Then it rimsta changed hands fast, because there’s hardly a scratch on it,’: 'A rid Tib put it in room 315.

“Well, pretty soon a. fella in a soft hat. and overcoat Comes in. ‘I reserved a. room. Dennis Swift,’ lie says..| And Mr St eng grunts and shoves the | register at him. and hands me the key. So T take him up to 315 and turn on the lights and open the window a hit and kinda wait. But ho goes and looks out the window, and no tip, see? So out I go and get some ice water, in case that’ll remind him. But soon as I shut the door ho turns the key. And I Laugh to myself, because that room has.a funny I lock. It goes' click when the key’s j turned half-way, hut that doesn’t lock it ; ‘hut it" goes cluck "when the key’s really turned, sec?” ‘‘l see,” said Alby. “So I go to the floor pantry for ice water, kinda’ hottih’ against myself, will he tip mo or won’t he'?” rjoey 'paused a moment, and Alby repressed a smile. “Well, I bring the ice water and knock once. 1 But I’don’t-wait till he says ‘Come. in’. Because’ sometliihg makes mo kinda inquisitive. So I open the door. He wheels ‘round fast and drops’ the trunk did sliut. Because he had the trunk open, see? ‘Oh, you,’ he says. ■*’And lie* comes to thp iloor to take the water, and then lie •notice’s lie’s got a hunch of letters in -his'hand.' They were tied round with • blub ribbon. ’’ lie’; tosses*’ thoirf oh the bed, careless like; Then ho goes to put his hand in ijs pocket, hut lie has his overcoat on. 'So ho pushes it hack and reaches 'in his pants pocke„t and fishes ,out a dime. And this time, when X go out. he turns the key till it clucks. And l think to myself, this bird ain’t- on the level.” Alh.V-looked r.t the' hoy with admiration: “Just what iha’de you think that, Joey?’,’ he asked.

“I dunno, except I cookin’t figure him out. For one tiling, lie had evening clothes on under his overcoat.” ”So it was the dress clothes made you ' think lie ,wasn’t ; on the level’ Higgins‘put in. “Not only them. In fact, maybe it wasn’t the clothes at all. ' Just a feeling. I didn’t figure it out right away, because Mr Steng don’t like to have lis hartg about, - and I went downstairs, and somebody else.come for room 423. But m the back of my mind, even while I’m busy with 42.1, I keep trying to figure that ,Swift bozo. When he let tlio trunk lid drop some gufly sort of stuff stuck out, like ladies dance in on the stage. And then I remembered there Were other keys attached to the one in the trunk. Not on a ring, .like a man’s would be, but tied together with: blue '.ribbon; And I'says’to myself, .“That’s a. lady’s trunk, and lie’s rummagin’. And then I think, ‘Letters! Maybe she’s tryin’ to brackmail him.' Or more likely the other way round.’ ” ' “And then?”

“Then T hurried downstairs to tell Steng I think there's something phoney about his Dennis Swift. But there ho was himself—Swift. I mean—tossing his key on' the desk and walking out the hotel fast.”: (To be Continued Daily.)

PUBLIC BOATHOUSE

SUGGESTED ivIRUCTURE OX BEAD’S QUAY. GH A UT FOR TURK. Any . suggestions for progress m Gisborne are always welcome and in this connection a proposal made yesterday by a prominent citizen appears deserving of mor; than passing notice, fie was referring to the improvements made on the rivWhank in front of the Government building;, and mentioned that it must naturally become a. pop’dnr rwiidezvous and eery popular; in Christchurch along

the Avon there are four sited; at which boats can tie hired.

Gisborne, he continued, has beautiful stretches of w'.itor .suitable for pleasure rowing. The general public, however, could nor take advantage uf this, for no private hilling sheds are in existence. If one. wanted to indulge in an 'occasional low in a boat, the only Way was to join a rowing dub. and that was too expensive for the average citizen who desired, to enjoy that- pleasure only occasionally, in the old days, one of the most enjoyable forms of outing was a beat picnic to the Hole-in-the-Wall. Nowa days, however, these wtr-e never heard of, and the usual picnic to that favourite spot wan by i: pans • of cars.

The speaker thought trait, as a matter mi courtesy, the tall assent oi the Beautifying Society sVouicl be sought, but lie could noli -see that- his scheme would disfigure tii:• lawn in nu\ way; in fact it should add to its appearance. His idea was that such a boathouse should bo built on modern artistic lines, and should be a handsome addition to the town. The plant could be small to start, hut couid bo gradually increased ns the bit incss became mono firmly established, until at length 'here would he a small fleet od double scuds, single sculls and canoes. Tim last-named, he anticipated would, bs -especially popular. He commended the idea to the R..S.A. executive, which could either run the boathouse itseif or make a loan to one or two suitable return:'! men.