THE LAUGHING GIRL MYSTERY

Gisborne Times, Volume LXXXIV, Issue 12870, 25 May 1936, Page 2

THE LAUGHING GIRL MYSTERY

SUMMARY OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. Sheridan Dinara, 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 ope of the apartments occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Coggs, an elderly couple. He hears laughter inside but it stops suddenly. He pictures the person laughing as a beautiful blonde. That night a blonde girl is found murdered in the room and Mr and. Mrs Coggs who had been absent, know nothing of the girl. Sheridan rings up Marlin, 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 back of the cupboard. Next day he finds a Florentine dagger at the inusuem missing. The police arrive at the museum for signs of Marlin and ascertain that ho had been keeping company with the landlady’s daughter hut had informed her that he was married, and as his wife was insane he could not get a divorce. At the apartment house next day Sheridan’s fiancee tells 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, 8—14—663. Next day the police find the dagger in another ease 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’ appnrtment 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. He states that no one else knew where the key was kept. Then suspicion appears to centre on a man named Dennis Swift, who leaves a strange trunk at the Hotel Astrnkan, and is surprised by a porter ns lie is reaching the trunk, which appears to contain gauzy dress material.

INSTALMENT XVIII. “DTD you notice which way Swift went, Joey?” Alby asked Timmott. “Yes. I run after him and said, ‘Taxi, Mr Swift?’ and he gives a sort of grunt, and then a taxi drives up. And ho says, “Sixty-six East- Sixtythird Street, and be quick about it’.”

“But that’s our house!” exclaimed Mrs Coe. “Willard, did you bear—the museum number?”

Dr. Coo was looking fixedly at Joey now, but he said nothing. “Go on,” Alby commanded. “That’s all there is, Mr Alby. Except what I says to Mr Steng.” “What was that?”

“I says, ‘Listen, Mr Steng, I bet you 315 is a bad actor’. And I tell him about the lady’s stuff sticking nut of the trunk and the letters. And [ says, ‘Another funny thing, Mr Steng, the way he wore his hat down over his eyes.’ ”

“And that was all the conversation you had with Mr Steng?”

“Yes, sir; until to-day when I come on duty. Then Mr Steng says to me, ‘Maybe you’re right, Joey, about 315.

His bed wasn’t slep’ in last night’. And before I could answer, zizz-ting went tho ’phone, and somebody was askin’ about that trunk check. And when Mr Steng told me I says, ‘I bet it’s murder’. Only I didn’t think it had anything to do with the girl that died laughing.”

“And now you think it has?” asked Albv.

“Well, here I am. and here’s all these folks, and the address Dennis Swift gave on Sixty-third Street, like this lady said—” Joey nodded at Mrs Coe.

“How long was it from the time Dennis Swift entered the hotel till ho left?” Alby asked. . “About ten minutes. Not more’n fifteen anyhow—” Alby cleared his throat. “Joey,” he said very slowly, “I want you to tell us if there is anyone in this room who looks like Dennis Swift.” Joey, who had been talking fluently and easily up to this time, hesitated. “Well,” ho said after a pause, “yes; there is.”

Every one leaned forward eagerly except Dr. Coe.

“Which one is it, Joey?” Alby demanded.

Joey shook his head. “But it ain’t him. There’s someone here might be his twin brother, except for two things.” “Which one is it?” Alby repeated.

“Only it isn’t,” Joey insisted. “His height ain’t right., and then the scratch on his hand—” “His hand!” exclaimed Mr Coggs, rising to his feet and wheeling about so that ho faced Sheridan. “You! You!” His voice was almost a scream. “Now I’ve got it! Now I know where 1 saw you ! That gas in-spector,-Tuesday. I knew there was something queer about him. You’r® tho gas inspector—” All eyes were now on Sheridan, standing, palo and astonished. But his voice was steady. “Y r ou'are mistaken,” ho said gravely. .“.No. no. I swear it! The minute I saw von last night I knew I’d -seen you before. Mamma, you saw him. Look at him! Ho was dressed different, and there’wasn’t a scratch, on lyis.ihnnd then, and his hands weije dirty, : Bub look at the shape, of his hands—”. ■ • Mrs Coggs, who had been peering up at Sheridan’s face, and then down at his handsp and then up. at his face again, l turned to her -husband and moved her head slowly up. and down in agreement.

After a painf'ul silence, Sheridan spoke: “We must 'find the man who’s keen impersonating me.”. He turned to Mr. Goggs. - “.That*, gas inspector ? Exactly what did he look like, and exactly what did he say P” : ■'

By VIOLA PARADISE (Copyright to the Gisborne Times)

Mr Coggs, ms excitement only slightly abated, turned angrily to Alby. “First time I ever heard of a murderer allowed to do the cross-ques-tioning.”

“We’ve not Mound the murderer yet,” said Alby. “Only a resemblance in tlio shape of what may bo two pairs of hands. Sit down, everybody.’’

“It’s not only the hands,” Coggs insisted. “They just put me on the right track. It’s the rest of him, too. Because the gas inspector—l mean him when lie was acting as gas inspector—had soiled workingman’s clothes on, and smudges on his face. And his hands were dirty—black under the nails, and on the knuckles. I never thought of his hands til! that boy there—” Mr Coggs broke off and looked from Alby to Joey and back to Sheridan. “Funny,” he said to Alby, “I thought there was something queer about the gas inspector at the time.”

“What was ‘ queer about him?” Alby asked

“Well, I’ve owned houses for years in New York, and no inspector before ever had to go through all the apartments.

“And you are willing to swear in court that Mr Dinard here was the gas inspector?” demanded Alby. “I’d stake my life on'it.”

Adelaide dashed across to Sheridan. She trembled as she clung to him. He said to her, in a low voice, “It will come out all right, darling.” “Yes,” Coggs repeated. : “That’s him. I’d stake my life on itv” “Well, I wouldn’t,” Joey Timmott spoke up warmly. “In fact, I’ll bet you ten to one it wasn’t. My dime to your dollar.”.

Alby said severely, “This is no time for elowning, Joey.” “You said it!” Joey continued. “He aint’s finding it funny.” He pointed to Sheridan. “But if I miss him l.’d not worry about that gas inspector, if it’s the same fella came round our hotel last night. Because Mr Dinard ain’t Dennis Swift.” del,aide said, salt sobbing, “Ynu’ro right, Joey, it- couldn’t have been Mr Dinard. Even if it wasn’t crazy to consider the possibility at all, it couldn’t have been. Because, your Dennis Swift didn’t have a scratch, and I happen lo know Mr Dinard scratched his hand night before last

“The young man,” Coggs sneered, ‘‘may not bo such a champion observer as he’s cracked up to be. He might not have noticed the scratch

“But you said there was no scratch.” “I never. I said Dennis Swift might have been his twin-brother if it wasn’t for two things—he wasn’t the right height and the scratch on his hand . . . and I’ll double the bet right now—” “Stop betting,” Alby ordered sharply. “Explain exactly what you mean.”

“0.K., Mr Alby. I wasn’t getting fresh, honest. This Dennis Swift looked the spittin’ image of Mr Dinard—what you could see of him with his hat on. Como to think of it, this Swift fella musta been trying not to show his eves. By the way lie walked and the way he stood, and the way he held his head, and even his voicethey were all just about exactly like Air Dillard’s. 1 can’t say about the shape of his hands, because when you looked at his right hand, the soar took your eye. It was exactly like Air Dinard’s scar. And no twin-brothers would be likely to have the same kind o f a scar. And then Dennis Swift wasn’t so tall.” ‘You mean ibis Swift looked exactly like Dinard except for his height?” “Well, I never got a good look at his eyes, like I told you. But it don’t matter. It wasn’t him. Because Dennis Swift was a good two inches shorter.”

An uneasy pause followed. “Two inches,” thought Sheridan, “two inches between me and the electric chair. But will they believe him?”

Mr Coggs’ flat, voice broke the silence. “I suppose you measured him ?” he growled, at Joey. “Didn’t havo to. Best thing I do,’’ boasted Joey, ‘is guessing folk-’ heights. I be.tclia —my dollar to your dime—l mean if Air Alby didn’t think i was gettin’ fresh, I’d bet I could guess within half an inch how tall everybody in this room is.” “This is the time wo let you bet,” said Alby grimly. “Dollar to dollar. Here’s mine. Let’s see yours, Joey.”

Higgins grouted. “What is this, anyhow?”

“Call it testing tho reliability of a witness, if you like,” said Alby. Joey was looking at the change he had pulled front his pocket. “I only got sixty cents. But it don’t matter, because I always win.”

“Then sixty cent's is the wager. Never hot on margin.” • “O.K. But don’t say I didn’t warn you wou’d lose, Mr Alby.” “All right, begin. You Want. us to stand up, T suppose?” “No, only, one of you. I’ll, begin with Mr Dinard. Eive feet eleven and three-quarters is his.. Then this man,” lie indicated Wilcox, “looks taller on account of his shoulders being higher, but he’s nearly an inch shorter, live eleven. And the '.nan, wno’s writing all these things down )) .. , ’ . . “Mr Hr.rrod,” Alby supplied the “Mr Harrod, he’s five feet nine. And the perfcssor here,” Joey nodded at Dr. .Coe, “is one inch taller, five ten. And; you, Mr ' Alby,'’arb exactly tho height 'of Dennis Swift, which is nothing against you—five nine and ahalf. Now, you,” Joey turned to Mr Goggs. “Would you "mind standing .up against that door—-” , ' , “Why. should lie stand up against a door I’h'Mrs- Coggs asked indignantly. Joey explained. “Tfyq, only time I {pt fooled \vas on a man that limped.

Ho threw-his weight on one leg-while

I guessed .and on., the. ! other, while. I j‘.' Harrod grinned. The others waited as Cogg's limped to the door. Joey reached up. and made a mark. But before standing back to look at it he said,- “Five feet* seven. - And nou:, ; ” said Joey, “for the ladies.” “That’ll bo enough,” Alby decided.

“Here’s my tape measure,” Joey fished one out of his pocket. “I’ll make all the marks on the door,® and you’ll see they’ll fit under them.”, Alby drew-a folding rule. from his drawer. “This-is-simpler,” ho said, “though I must say you seem prepared for such wagers.”

( ‘I mako more money betting on people’s heights than on tips,”' said Joey.

There was a tense silence in the room as the measurements Were made. Harrod entered them against Joey’s guesses. At the end lie handed the list to Alby. • -

“M’m. Pretty good. Though you’re a half-inch off on Qoe, and a quarter off on Ooggs,” said Alby. “But you made your wager. I lore’s the sixty cents. How do you do it?” (To be Continued Daily.)