"John Smith--Blackmailer"

Manawatu Times, Volume 59, Issue 214, 7 September 1934, Page 5

"John Smith--Blackmailer"

(By Lindsay Hamilton)

4 o | Instalment 20. % t t 4

CHAPTER XXlll.—(Continued.)

“It is based entirely on the assumption that Mrs Grot!on died of fright, and not because her safe was empty. You see what that means. That the stage was deliberately set, very Ingeniously set, too, slnee the plan must have been evolved on the spur of the moment. It was necessary lo the success of the scheme to remove Lena and thus set, the police on a false trail. All this, mind, is based on one assumption, or rather on two assumptions.’’ “You are assuming that Lena was not an accomplice, I suppose? That’s going rather far, isn't it?” "Oh, quite, hut tiien I have a very elastic imagination,” murmured Peel;. “No research work, scientific or otherwise, over achieves anything without abundant imagination, clastic imagination which reaches out from solid fact Into the unknown, theorises and remoulds its theories to fit each new discovery. Whatever the writers of fiction may say about the value of an open mind in the realm of crime detection, in practice an open ndnd is a bland mind. Theorise first, and I lien apply the test. Which is precisely tiie thing you and I propose lo do In a few moments. The police searched Lena’s room for evidence io prove her guilt. We shall find nothing they did not find, hut we may read quite a different story from if. We are searching for the tiniest duo which suggests her innocence. We may not find it, but—unless I am totally mistaken —I think we shall. The cleverest criminal born was never a match for reality. His counterfeit may have every appearance of truth, hut it is false, for his imprint is upon it. The dull criminal fails for want of imagination, tiie clever one for too lively an imagination. He overdoes it—the false trail is too clear, and the. more he concentrates on the creation of misleading evidence, the more likely he is to make some absurdly infantile blunder. Clever criminals always have, and they always will. If you study your newspaper at all, you must have realised that the unsolved crimes are seldom premeditated, ingenious or wrapped in a tissue of false ciues. They are simple, crimes of passion, and the perfection of them is supplied not by human ingenuity, but by the tide of circumstances.” CHAPTER XXIV. Roddy stifled a yawn. lie was not interested in the psychology of crime, and Peck, Launched on his favourite topic, looked as though lie was prepared to continue indefinitely. “I expect you are right. How about it? I’m rather keen to try my hand now I know what we are looking for. Rut why are you so sure about, Lena? After ail, the evidence is all tiie other way. She was the only one who could have stolen the box; she pretended a bilious attack; she good Lord! Don’t you remember how she rushed past us in the hall yesterday? Why should she hurry? She wanted to he on the spot to learn tiie secret of tiie safe. You can’t call that manufactured evidence." Peck appeared to be blandly impervious to the obvious. Sheer obstinacy, thought Roddy, and as though Peck read his thoughts, lie replied: “Lena occupies a very special niche in my theory. I like tier there.’’ He walked to the door, opened it silently and peered into the hall. “Now!” he, whispered and tripped with astonishing lightness of foot across tiie hall and up ihe stairs, and Roddy, feeling more than a little foolish, tiptoed after him. Lena’s room was situated next to that of her late mistress. It, had at one time been Mrs Gretton’s dressingroom, but she. had sacrificed this luxury for tiie greater luxury of having her personal maid in closer attendance. The communicating floor had proved a great convenience. Roddy's first sensation was one of vague surprise. This was hardly Ihe kind of room lie had expected. It had an atmosphere of restful comfort, almost of luxury. “Tastefully clone, isn't, it.?” said Peck. “Mi’s Gretton evidently knew how to he generous. You know, exacting people sometimes arc exceptionally so. J. would hazard a guess ( that Lena’s life was not all thorns." Roddy was watching him curiously, wondering how he would set about the search. He half expected him to produce a pocket-lens and microscope, and in the approved manner subject every square inch of the floor, walls and furnishings to minute inspection. But Simon B. Peck did no such thing. He walked over lo tiie bed and sat clown. “Well, my young friend, and what do you see?’’ lie asked, softly. “Nothing that is’nt perfectly obvious," said Roddy, and Peck chuckled. “Good! But don’t despise the obvious because any fool can see 11. Mistrust It by all means, hut don’t despise It. Well, now, what is it that is so obvious?” Roddy pointed to the open door of the wardrobe cupboard, the litter of feminine garments lying on (lie floor ns though discarded by hands that feverishly sorted out the pick of them; pointed again to a chest of drawers where the same disorder ruled. “I take it the police don’t work on such untidy lines,” he observed, with a shrug. “So the obvious conclusion is that Lena packed in a hurry.” “Exactly! Exactly, my young friend. She packed in a hurry." Peck's eyes glittered like heads, and he snapped out suddenly: “Why? What possible reason had she for packing in a hurry? Between eight o'clock and some time after midnight she had several hours and nothing to do but wait till the house was all quiet. Why pack at all, in fact? The suitcase she brought from London no doubt contained all she would require. Would she burden herself with cheap fripperies?" "I never thought of that," admitted Roddy. "Of course you didn t, nor did Brand. The thing looked so obvious and natural, and Brand had no reason to mistrust the obvious. I tell you,” lie went on with suppressed excitement, “Lena had no more to do with last night’s work than you had. You see that cut-glass bottle, a scent-spray, I think? A pretty thing, unless my eyes deceive me, a valuable little thing. Note the gold flllgree work —unusual,

you will say at oner. Yon ask yourself why she should scrape, together a few rags of colon and silk and leave a thing like that behind. If must be worth pounds. Oh, yon are Interested. You ask now why such an article stands on that high mantelpiece instead of on the dressing-table. You ask " Itoddy stared at ldm in astonishment. Peck had sprung to his feet, darted across arid picked up the scent-spray. He was handling it very gingerly. It seemed ns though the very tenseness of his excitement kept him silent. He held flic thing at the level of his eyes and peered at, the clear fluid within, tilling the spray gently, now this way and now that. Then suddenly he began to laugh, and the effect of it was strangely chilling. Peek for the moment had clearly forgotten that lie had an audience. He was gloating, gloating rather horribly like a bird of prey over some titbit. “Well?"' said itoddy, sharply. Peck's face melted into its usual expression of benevolent simplicity. “Weil," tie echoed. "Now what do your observant eyes sec here. Chester?” “Scent, I suppose.” said Roddy. "Hal her sticky looking. Probably cheap stuff. For the Lord’s sake don’t squirt it; I loathe cheap scent.” “That is the one tiling I shall be most careful lo avoid.” There was a weiglitiness in the way Peck said those words out, of all proportion to llm occasion. lie chuckled. “The odd thing about this brand of scent, Is that., though if is comparatively cheap, it, has little or no smell.” "You mean —Roddy sniffed at Hie stopper. "Gosh, you’re right. It's not scent. Well, what the deuce is it?" “A clear viscous fluid,” replied Peck with irritating vagueness. ‘The fluid that killed Mrs Grctton?” “Poison ?” “Your memory is at fault. Airs Gretton died of fright. What agony did she fear? What loss? What searing anguish worse than death? What ." He stopped abruptly and remained motionless with head a little inclined lo one side. The sound of voices drifted up from the garden below. A horrible suspicion was born in noddy's mind by Peck's significant words. What was it, he had said in flic study? The one thing a woman like Mrs Grctton would fear more than death itself was the loss of her physical beauty .... vitriol . . . . sulphuric acid .... Roddy reached out for the scentspray, impatient lo learn the truth. “Let me see it.” “Shi" hissed Peck, and at the same time held flic spray out, of reach. “Stand perfectly still, and don’t go near that window,” ho commanded. I'll lie hack in one moment.” And with this astonishing warning Peck disappeared through the communicating door into Mrs Grctton’s bedroom. Itoddy heard presently the sound of running water. But lie was hardly concerned with Peck’s eccentricity, for contrary to orders, lie had approached the window warily. And looking down, lie could see Pat and Vera walking up and down in the garden, arm in arm, in earnest conversation. He smiled In himself. Pat had evidently lost no time in putting her good resolution into practise. Already the two seemed to be on more intimate and friendly terms. “A little air, if you don’t mind," Peck had come up suddenly behind him. “This room is rather stuffy. Would you mind opening the window —wide." “Certainly,” said Roddy with alacrity, and was neither slow nor particularly silent in the performance. The noise attracted the attention of the two girls. Both of them started and stared up in momentary fright. For a second it seemed as though they clung to each other. “Halo I” sang out J’oddy, reassuringly. “It’s only me.” “And I.” added Peck. “You quite startled me,” cried Pat, and laughed her relief. “How did you get in? I thought, that room was supposed lo be locked.” Vera, one hand pressed to her bosom, struck an nttijude of mock alarm. "Heavens, my nerves! They must be in rags, i thought. 1 was seeing ghosts. We'll come up. Come on Pat.” Peck withdrew from the window. Roddy saw that, he was slill holding the scent-spray as though it were something that might explode at any moment. “You may close it now,” lie murmured graciously, “I feel much belter.” “What the devil is the stuff?” burst out, Roddy abruptly. “This?" Peck beamed al him. “Why, notiiing very alarming. Water, that is nil, just common hp-water.” There was a deal more Roddy could have said, but al that moment Pat and Vera came into the room. “Come in, come in." 'murmured Simon Peek. “Forgive me my incurable curiosity. I managed lo induce the Inspector to leave me the, key, but I fear we have not found any—what do you call them—clues. Except, perhaps, this pretty object.” lie held up the scent-spray. “It occurred to me that a lady’s maid would hardly indulge in such an expensive article, unless it was given to her, of course. Perhaps you could tell me, Miss Patricia?” “Why, wherever did you find that?” It was not Pat, from whom the exclamation of surprise came, but from Vera. “My scent-spray! I missed it some weeks ago. Oil, give it to me, do —quick. I’m so glad to see it again. Really. I coukl almost hug you. Mr Peek. If was given to me—a present from a very clear friend,” added Vera softly, and she held out both hands for the spray. Peek beamed his sympathetic delight and held out the scent-spray. Then, as though moved by some impulse of mischievous dalliance, ho pressed the rubber bulb and a shower of fino spray shot out,, covering Vera’s extended hands. No doubt she was startled, for she gave a sharp cry and drew her hands away and rubbed them quickly on the counterpane of the bed. She turned then and flashed him a quick provocative smile. (To be continued.)