A DROP OF BLOOD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19418, 28 August 1926, Page 16 (Supplement)

A DROP OF BLOOD.

SHORT STORY.

•• is it possible you could come t t> love a big, dull chap like me?" "Well perhaps if he was not tc 10 like you," Charlotte Archdale answerc ki. demurely, but the blank look in hi s face was too much for her, and she brol te into a ripplo of delighted and delightful laughter. " Well, I suppose 1 may take tin s as a proposal, and 1 say ' Yes,' with out a moment's hesitation. The next moment she was in his arms, his lips on hers. She kissed him back and then stri sggled loose. " I am not at all sure I should c< xnsent to marry you. Do you realise w kit it means to you? Your uncle, Sir Ralph Manering, one of the richest men int London, will never forgive you. Ha w 111 cut off your allowance and inheritance when he hears you are going to be man ied to me. He just hates my name—of . burse, you know why ?" "Because your uncle ran off wi'fh his wife twenty years ago. He i lotrbe mad enough to hate you for that . "He could, and is. I was introduced to hrm at a bazaar, and he cut met lead. A quick frown wrinkled Tom Mswiering's forehead. " Well, let him do his worst! he -said. " I'll have my profession in three uk filths, and I have a couple of hundreds a year of mv own. It" you are willing to! risk it, Lottie, though it is not fair to' ask you." , " Of course not, you darling old gopsc an heiress like me with fifty pounds a year and her nurse's certificate. I .aeArer in ray life heard of such presumption, but I will condescend." While they are absorbed m each 'pther we mav have a look at them wiuhcut interrupting the story. , , , . Ladies first' Charlotte Archaale is ;not so much lovely as loveable. No -one could look at her without liking her. .fche had an oval face with a dimple that cfcume and went as sho smiled or was serfaus, rich brown hair rippled round her [orehead and over little ears whoso 'tips pooped out from the ripple. Her bifown eyes, soft, bright, reflected her every mood. She looked small beside her big lover, t but sho was over middle height, and had f.ho figure - of a graceful girljust merging, on womanhood. A few words must serve for the imn. Tom Manering (we don't call him Paptain because he does r.ot like it) was broad apd tall, with black hair and Wueblack eyes. II had been through the nvar and distinguished himself on a staff appointment for the most part, but he Jiad promptly retired when the war ended (and resumed his study for the medical {profession. One thing was plain as the lovers, sat together on the sofa —that Tom Manering was; deeply, reverently in love, Jialfabashed at his own good fortune in •winning the girl he loved. The room wafc an admirable setting for a love-scene —& cosy, comfortable home-like room. " Will you give me tea," he asked. " Tea in your flat will make it seem Teal. I can hardly believe in my good fortune." The tea was a delightful meal, delightfully served. "I am showing you what a housekeeper I will make," she said. " Oh, Tom, I think we will be very happy." " Hallo, hands up, you two. I have caught you out," a cheery voice cried, and looking round they saw Manering's cousin, Jim Warrington, in the doirway, ■with a whimsical smile on his handsome face. Tall, even taller than Manering, and splendidly built, fair-haired, blue-eyed, with a touch of tan on his cheeks,. Jim Warrington was one of the best-looking men in London and the most popular alike with men and women. He had joined up with his cousin and fought through the war with special distinction. The sword with which he had gone through the war he had presented to his uncle, himself an ardent militarist. "It has earned a rest," he said. But he himself retained hia commission. Stf«h was the man whom both lovars jumped up to welcome. • " Allow me," said Manering, with mock formality, " to introduce you to my future wife, Miss Archdale." I claim a cousin's privilege,," cried Warrington. But she slipped to the other Bide of the table. ' 'Sit down and be good," sho advised, •" and I'll give you some tea." So he sat down and was good and they made a merry party of three, and Warrington was warm in his congratulations. The story skips a week, to the library of Sir Ralph Manering in his big town housa in Belgrave Square. " The master is expecting you, air," said Tomlinson, who sat like a stout sentinel in livery at the door of the library. " I know, I know," answered Tom Manering, a little impatiently. " You need not announce me. ' He crossed tho long library to the door of a small room at the far end, where the great part of Sir Ralph's sedentary life was passed, turned the handle and went in, sfiutting the door after him. A minute later he burst out into tho library with a coarse cry of "Murder! Tomlinson," he cried, wildly, " your master has been murdered. He is lying on the floor stabbed to the heart. Run for a doctor, run for tho police, why don't you do something man ?" But Tomlinson stood staring in utter terror and bewilderment, Manering grew suddenly calm and selfcollected. " Pull yourself together, Tomlinson. You must wait here while I go and telephone for the doctor and call up Scotland Yard. Let no ono in till I come back." There was some delay over the telephone calls and it \vas a quacter of an hour before Manering came back. He found Tomlinson at the open door of the inner room still utterly dumbfounded. On the deep carpet the man lay splashed with blood, his limbs fiung about the hilt of a small sword protruding from his left side. " It's the colonel's weapon," stammered Tomlinson. "He always kept it with him. Shall I lift tho master on to the couch?" " No, we must not touch anything till the police come. I think you had better tell your story, whatever it may be, first to them." It was nearly an hour before Inspector Curtis and Dr. Boyd, the prison doctor, a big man and a little one, arrived. The inspector was tall, thin, athletic, with alert grey eyes and a reputation for promptitude in the force. More than once he had caught his prey at the first jump. The doctor was shorter, stouter, older. There was a bluff kindliness in his face. Criminals did not seem to be iv his line, but he was of the most skilful analysts in London, and that had ted to his present appointment. " Sorry to be late, Mr. Manering," said the inspector, " was out when you called. Well, doctor?" The doctor, without speaking a word, had knelt on the carpet to examine tho prostrate figure. " Dead," he said, " stabbed clean through the heart; died instantaneously." " Long dead ?" "Cannot say; might bo anything from an hour to about five. The rigor mortis has not yet set in." "Nothing has been touched?" the inspector asked .Manering. " Nothing." " Then wo had better have your story before wo search tho room." " Just at four o'clock I called by appointment. Tomlinson was at the far end of the library. 1 opened and shut the door before I noticed anything. When I saw him lying _ there I was too stunned to speak or move for a minute or so. Then I came out and told Tomlinson and telephoned for you and the doctor. That's about all." :v- - The inspector wis scribbling rapidlv. Now your turn,' he said to Tomlinson. "Where was Sir Ralph to-day? Who with him?"

BY J ÜBGE BODKIN. (COPYRIGHT.)

"He was here since breakfast. He wasn't out at all Just three people saw him in all; Mr. Manering was the last." "Go on. Tell us all you know." " The first person who came to see him in the morning, about eleven o'clock, was Major Folliot; you know him Mr. Manermyself." It was the first time Tomlinson had ever expressed an opinion about a visitor, but this was a special occasion. " He always had a queer, sneaky way with him, to my thinking; seemingly the master did not care much about him, either. I heard low voices, with some word about ' Price,' and after about a quarter of an hour the major came out in a hurry and Sir Ralph after him. " 1 Show that gentleman out, Tomlinson,' he said. ' 1 want a note taken to Colonel Warrington at once. I'm not at home to anybody, no matter who it is, until he comes. You sit at the far door of the library and show him in at once.' " The colonel did not arrive until about two o'clock. Sir Ralph had a light early lunch in his own room. " The colonel seemed pleased with himself. ' Don't stir, Tomlinson,' he said. ' I can find my own way.' 1 didn't stir. I saw no need for it and he crossed and opened and shut the door by himself. I heard the mutter of voices for a few minutes. I could not catch the words. It's a big mahogany door, with a curtain on the inside. But after a quarter of an hour or so tho colonel came out. ' All right, sir,' I heard him say to the master, as ho passed through. ' I'll send Manering to yon as near four as I can,' and he clapped the door behind him. ' Tomlinson,' tho colonel says to me, when he crossed the library to where I sat, 1 your master is expecting Mr. Manering about four o'clock. You are not to admit any visitors or to disturb him on any account till Mr. Manering comes.' I'll take my Bible oath that no one but myself and them two, the major and colonel, saw him to-day until Mr. Manering saw him slaughtered." " That will do, Tomlinson," said the inspector. Tomlinson retired to his niche at the library door. Then the inspector searched the room carefully. For a moment he scrutinised the hilt of the sword with a magnifying glass. The hilt was rough steel, to give the hand a good grip. It. was not touched by the blood and the inspector found no marks. " Didn't expect I would," ho said. "I didn't take much stock of those fingermarks of which story books are so full. ' " It's a mystery," said the doctor. " Not a bit of it," retorted tho inspector, " it's as plain as a pikestaff." " What the mischief do you mean ?" asked the doctor. Manering stared at him. "Who did it? That's what I mean. You don't think it was Tomlinson ?" " Ridiculous." "Quite so. Nor Mr. Manering?" " This is no time for joking." " I'm not joking. It was not Tomlinson, and it wasn't Mr. Manering. We are agreed on that. It could not have been Major Folliot because Sir Ralph had his luncheon aftei the major left. Then who could it have been ? Who was the only other .person who., saw him to-day. Don't look so dumbfounded. The thing is quite plain. Colonel Warrington was with him for a quarter of an hour and Sir Ralph was never seen alive afterwards. I take no stock of his calling back into the room. Tomlinson neither saw or heard Sir Ralph." "It's impossible!" cried the doctor, "inconceivable; one of the bravest officers in the army." " It's horrible, of course, but not impossible. I will arrest the colonel for the murder." Then Manering found his tongue. " Inspector," he cried angrily, " you are misled. My cousin is incapable of such an atrocity." " In my business we cannot assume any man is incapable of anything." " But, there's no motive," urged Manering. "My uncle and ho were on the best of terms." " We have to look up tho motive," persisted the inspector. " I will arrest WTarririgton as soon as I can lay hands on him." " You'll bo a fool for your pains," retorted Manering. " I have no more to say. If you want my evidence you know where to find me." That evening Colonel Warrington was arrested for the murder of his uncle, and riext morning good-humoured, imperturbable Paul Beck walked into the private office of Inspector Curtis, preceded by his card. " Forgive me for butting in, Curtis," said Beck. " I always seem to be butting in when I'm not wanted." " You're wanted here, now," replied the inspector, as the two men shook hands. They were old friends and officially and unofficially they had been successful in many cases together. " I suppose it is about this Warrington business ?" said the inspector. " Hit it first shot. Mr. Manering, captain that was, came to engage me to do what I could for his cousin. He says you are all wrong. Tell me all about it." The inspector told him all about it, in the clear, crisp language of the force. " One thing strikes .me as queer, Curtis," Beck said. "If the colonel was the murderer why did he give such precise directions to Tomlinson to guard the fort until his cousin came to find the corpse, so that suspicion would point directly to himself." "That's a difficulty certainly; there is another I forgot to mention. Sir Ralph's gold chain was dangling from his waistcoat but his watch was not to be found." " It is inconceivable that the murderer stole the watch. It must be somewhere in the room. May I have a look ?" " Certainly. The room is locked but I have the key, and Tomlinson is constantly on guard. I'll get a taxi,' and we will go there straightaway." Beck plopped on his knees on the carpet the' moment they entered the room and searched up and down from wall to wall, and a yard at a time. "Got it!" ho exclaimed in triumph, after a quarter of an hour's silent search, and jumped to his feet to exhibit his find. " I found it tangled up in the tail of the curtain," he said. "It might have rolled in, or bee;, tucked in designedly, I cannot say which !" It was a big gold watch with a white face; the glass was broken, and there was a drop of blood on the white dial. The inspector's face, grew red. "Well, I am a blithering idiot!" he exclaimed. v " Strong language," interposed Beck. " True language," retorted the other. " Just look at the dial. The hands are pointing to four o'clock."' " So I see." r " Don't you understand what that, means ? Manering was here at four o'clock by appointment. Very likely, Sir Ralph had his watch out waiting for': him. It's as plain as daylight." " Daylight k; a bit cloudy sometimes. Perhaps the watch is just run down and can tell yo'i nothing of when it stopDed." " I never thought of that," said the inspector. Beck, like a soothsayer of the old days, examined the entrails of the watch. "Tho works are badly wrenched," he said at last. " Tho watch was stopped by violence." " Stopped at four o'clock," commented tho inspector, " when it was struck from tho owner's hand." " Stopped when the owner was killed, and it got this drop of blood on its face." " Comes to exactly the same thing. By j jove, Beck. I never for one moment sus- | pected Manering when I found him there alone with the body. His manner was just perfect, cool as a cucumber. It was a bright idea of his, engaging you to look after his cousin. Curious trick of fate that you should dig up . tho fatal evidence against, himself. He could not have been fool enough to hide the watch." " Rather looks as if it had been hidden," said Beck. " But, of course, anyone that hid it must have known it would most surely be found."

" Well,".replied tne inspector, " I have a tough job before me. I don't like it ono little bit. However, I must get it over mo, and then —" " You mean release the colonel and' arrest Manering ?" " That's about the size of it." " I wouldn't carry out the whole of that programme, Curtis, if I were you. Let tne colonel out, if you like. I suppose you feel you must do that, but don't put the other in just yet. We may get more evidence." " Give him a rope to hang himself?"' " Will put it that way if you like. Now I want to make a suggestion to which I attach special importance. First put the watch in the safe in your office: of course it is the vital part for the case, next bring Dr. Boyd there to-morrow to examine tho dial, I want him to analyse tho blood marks." "But why?" asked the puzzled inspector. "It is. blood, right enough. Why bother tho doctor ?" "To oblige mo, if you like. I think it is important. What hour will I find you at your office?" " Will twelve o'clock suit ? All right then. I'm off to see Colonel Warrington." " First lock up the watch," said Beck. " The office is on your way. I'm off to have a chat with Major Folliot." When Beck called next day at the inspector's he found him alone. " The doctor will bo here in a few minutes," said Curtis. "Ho has gone for his apparatus." " I have invited a watchmaker to our seance. You don't mind ?" " Seems a pretty plain caso to me," said tho inspector resignedly. " And to me," added Beck, "but I wanted to make quite sure. " How did you got on with the colonel?" " First-class. ■ He's a real decent sort. He laughed when I told him about his cousin. ' Yon are barking up the wrong tree again,' ho said. ' You will be apologising to Manering tho day after tomorrow." "Just as I was leaving I told him about our appointment to-day and having the doctor in to examine the bloodstain on the watch. ' Cursed tomfoolery!' he snapped. ' That Beck is a meddlesome busybody! Lot me have a peep at the watch.' Unfortunato I hadn't it with me. I had a much worse time with Manering. •As bad 'uck woud hvae it, I found him with the girl ho is engaged to. She refused to leave the room while I told my business to Manering. Not a pleasant business to tell a chap. The girl was vexed with me for being such a fool as to dream of accusing him, but I could seo her presence bucked up her lover tremendously. He saw the serious side of the evidence, of course. I told him that he wasn't bound to say anything. He told me he had nothing to say, except, of course, that he was quite innocent." " Would you mind telling me why you called on the old gentleman ?' I asked. For answer he put his hand in his breast pocket and handed me this." " This " was a sheet of club notepaper which the inspector spread open on the table and read: " Dear Tom, —Uncle Ralph is in a devil of a fume; some cursed busybody told him about your engagement to Lottie. He sent for me to know if it was true. What could I say ? He swears he will disinherit you if you Inarry her. He wants to see yourself at four sharp. I hope you will be able to get him to see reason. With cousinly love to Lottie.—Ever yours, Jim." " There's the motive all right," said the inspector. " I must say it looks bad for Manering. I don't know why he handed me over the letter. His cousin would not give liim away, said there was no quarrel between Manering and the old man." They were interrupted by the arrival of the watchmaker, who was followed a moment later by Dr. Boyd. "Now," said Beck,. " we can get to work. Produce the watch, Curtis. Mr. Brady, will you kindly take off'the hands as gently as you can? No, first have a look at the inside. Do you think it was stopped by a fall ?" , "I should say not," the watchmaker answered. "Seems to me it was deliberately tampered with." " The same here. Now off with the hands." . The hands were delicately detached and laid on a sheet of white paper. " Now, doctor," said Beck, " I want you to test the under-side of the hands for human blood." The three sat in dead silence while the doctor went through his analyses—serums, precipitants and all the rest of it. He looked up at last and stretched himself. " Dono," ho said. " Found any blood on the under-side of the hands ?" Beck asked. "On both, especially on the hour hand." " Human blood ?" " Certainly." " Was it a liquid when it got on the hands ?" " Must have been; otherwise it could not have spread the way it did." " You can swear to all this, doctor ?" " Every word." " There can no longer be the least doubt who stabbed Sir Ralph," said Beck. " When he was murdered the watch-glass was broken and that drop of blood fell on the dial. The murderer put the hands on from two o'clock to four, then stopped the watch as if by a fall, and hid it behind the curtain where he knew it must eventually be found. The thing is plain as a pikestaff. In no other way could the wet blood have come on the underside cf the hands." " It was a neat idea of Warrington's," Beck continued, " to let his cousin in for the murder and send him that letter to provide the motive. Of course, I sus?ected from the moment I saw the dial, esterday I called on Major Folliot and screwed the truth out of him. Colonel Warrington owed him four hundred pounds, a gambling- debt. He paid him by a forged cheque of Sir Ralph. When the*l.O.U. was burned the colonel told Folliot that the cheque was forged, and Folliot promised to keep it dark; but be took the cheque to Sir Ralph; probably thought that he would pay up to save the family name. But Sir Ralph turned him out, kept the cheque,. and sent for the colonel. .We can guess what happened afterwards; the colonel killed him with the same sword with which he had killed so many Germans and laid that ingenious trap for his cousin; glad to put him out of the way and to come in for the fortune." He was interrupted by a knock at the door. A constable entered with a letter. " For Mr. Beck," he said. " Quick work," said Beck, when he had read it. "It's all over. Listen to this: 'Curse you, Beck,'" he read. "'When I heard from Curtis that you were on the bloodstain, of course I guessed that you had caught me out. When I learned later that you had been to Folliot I knew the game was up.' The old scoundrel brought it on himself: threatened to have mo prosecuted. There .was nothing for it. But you won't get me alive. Sergeant Death is here to arrest, me: I've a revolver on the table as I write, and it don't much matter whether an English or German bullet does the trick.' " " Well, I am a thundering ass," said Inspector Curtis later in dav. whpn the newspapers in the street were crying out: " Suicide of Colonel Warrington." "Nonsense, man," protested Beck. "You caught your man on the first pounce." "Well, perhaps in a way that's so," admitted the inspector. Sir Thomas Manering some months later and Miss Charlotte Archdale, seated close together in a couch in the ladv's flat where we first met them, look radiantly happy " Oh, Tom." she murmured softly, "I was so frightened when that policeman came, though I tried hard for your sake to seem brave." v "So was I, my darling. It seemed a nerfectly clear caso. I would have been hanged but for Paul Beck."