MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22901, 2 December 1937, Page 23

MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

By LESLIE CARGILL Author of " Myatery of on Omnibu»."*

CHAPTER X.—(Continued) In England the course would either havo meant the formality of a search warrant or recourso to illegal entry. The Paris police, it appeared, had. wider powers, or else their influence was more respected. No obstacles were put in the way of getting into the rooms. Keys were produced by the concierge, who discreetly withdrew after unlocking the door. Brule resided in a typical block' of flats, compact but well served. As a single man he had no need for a large establishment and the nature of his work did not leave much time for home life. Actually there were three rooms and a kitchenette. The largest was cosily furnished as a lounge, another was the bedroom, but the third had been retained as a sort of laboratory. Evidently Pierre Brule took moro than a professional interest in his work. The paraphernalia showed that he was also an experimentalist.

No fewer than three cinematograph cameras were among the mass of material, which included chemical apparatus, developing tanks and many other things Mosson was unable to identify. "I expect you're better up in the technique of searching a house than I am," the Major observed. "Leave it to me, m'sicur. What do you wish me to look for?" "Oh firearms, ammunition, letters from his mother—and any letters written in English. Schweitzer nodded and began with a. desk that looked promising. For a time Mosson watched the dexterous manner lie rummaged in drawers, carefully replacing the disturbed contents with a sureness that made it difficult to believe they had been touched. As nothing came to light, he tired of standing idly by and wandered into the spare room. Curiously inspecting the cameras, he wondered if there was anything to bo gleaned from them, though it was doubtful if traces of tampering would have been .left. Allowing that thought to pass through his mind almost startled him, for it suggested that ho was prejudicing the issue. What did he expect to find? Evidence that Pierre Brule was the guilty man? Secretly, almost confidently, he felt ho was on the verge of discovering the culprit. One of the cameras was a heavy metal affair on a massive tripod. Both the others were smaller, probably more modern. Their box parts were of polished wood with dull black metal fitments. Looking closely he could dis-' cern* nothing suspicious about any of them. Certainly there was no extension which could have hidden a firearm, neither were there extra holes through which a muzzle might have protruded. Looking about the room he camo across several sets of lenses neatly packed in padded cases. These could be screwed into the turret as required. Some of them were quite large in diameter and length. With a shock of disappointment he noticed that all of them had glass obstructions that would have made the passage of a bullet impossible. This was a factor that he had not carefully considered. Would not a dummy lens have been noticed?-Surely among the experts an artificial projection round about one of them would have been spotted and probably commented upon as is the habit of professionals when puzzled by anything done by one of their number. But of course the glass could be slipped out at an appropriate moment. No, that wasn't right, as lie soon demonstrated. It was quite a delicate job getting the things to pieces. Was he on the wrong track again just when things had seemed so hopeful? "Nothing in this room," Schweitscr broke in. "I'll try the bedroom next." He went off humming a popular ditty. Mosson pulled the three cameras nearer to the light, frowning as ho peered at them gloomily. Only as ho started to turn aside in disgust, did he notice something that caused a little whistle of surprise. "M'sieur Schweitzer," he called out, "will you come here." The French detective hurried to his side. "Something important?" he inquired. "Tnke a look at the bottom of that' camera. Do you notice anything peculiar?" "Not a thing." "Look, I'll turn it so that the light shines at an angle. Now, do you see what I mean?" "That spot in the corner, is that what you mean?" "Spots is the word. There are eight of them altogether. One in each of the corners." Schweitzer could make nothing of them, and said so. "Screw holes, my dear French colleague," Mosson explained with a dry chuckle. "Sorry'to appear dense, m'sieur, but they don't convey anything to mo, neither do they look like holes." "Nor arc, but were. Somebody has been to immense pains to fill them in neatly with plastic wood, that stuff you "get in tubes which smells like pear-drops, then go over the whole gadget with stain and repolish it. Only the break in the graining' of the wood 1 shows it up, and that only comes to light at the right angle. Dear me, the chap's a fine craftsman." Schweitzer wriggled impatiently: "Unfortunately you have the advantage by knowing things from the beginning which haven't been passed on," lie complained. "Then I'll try and enlighten you. Anyway you are aware that I'm over in France on pretty big business." "They told me that much. at the Surete.' Also that it was concerned with the assassination of Lord Parminster." ' "Sir Vincent Parminster, baronet.'' Mosson corrected, smiling at the easy way the Frenchman fell foul of the title. For all his remarkable command of the language it was hardly surprising there should be lapses in his knowledge of the customs of the country in view of the third-hand manner he had' acquired his linguistic powers. "Our theory is that the shooting was done in connection with a cinc-camera somehow or other. Up to now we havo been unable to pin it down to that for lack of evidence." The Frenchman fingered the camera thoughtfully. "Very neat," ho muttered. "What?" Mosson asked. "The way the job was done or the artful repair to the instrument?'] "Both: They are signs of the ingenuity of the man." "No doubt about that. But wo aro still without proof and while that is lacking the case cannot be concluded.'" "You want the weapon?" "Yes, that's one thing." "If he is as smart as all that he will surely have disposed of it." ,

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STORY OF A GREAT REVENGE AND A SACRIFICE

Mosson. nodded agreement. "So 1 suppose," he said. "The mystery is why he didn't burn the camera as well.; Probably out of regard for the thing —hating to destroy an object for which lie had a professional attachment, and quite sure the faking would be sufficient to hide its misuse. Odd that a tiny flaw in the apparently perfect crime almost .inevitably shows in the. end." "What about motive?" "Ah, there you have another snag. But I've got a notion that may turn out to meet the case." "Perhaps I could make a guess as well." "Keep it to yourself for the present. Later- we'll compare notes." It was at that moment that the concierge hurried in to say that he had seen Pierre Brule crossing the street toward the apartments. Before they could hurry away an angry voice outside was heard demanding the immediate presence of the, janitor. An astonished expression came when the newcomer found the door of his room unlocked and then the occupier strode inside. For a brief space of time his glance wandered from face to face. Then, speaking in English, lie addressed himself to Major Mosson. "Why come you here?" he asked doubtfully. "What do ybu want?" Major Mosson had been feeling uncomfortable at having been caught in such circumstances. The only thing ho could think of on the spur of the moment was that half-humorous suggestion made at Scotland Yard. "Why did you kill Sir Vincent Parminster?" he demanded grimly. The procedure for accusing criminal suspects is very clearly laid down for the guidance of police officers. Aiid it is most certainly not a direct demand to know the reason for the offence. Major Mosson, it is true, was on foreign soil where the machinery of arrest would be a complicated affair to set going. Also he had some sort of official. backing for his unconventional gambit. The Assistant Commissioner had actually mentioned that there might be worse ways of getting Pierre Brule to talk than by going straight to the point. But Schweitzer was 1 plainly staggered by the method adopted, and gasped audibly. Brule, halted a few paces inside the apartment, was more nonplussed. First he gaped, then he glared from one to the other of his uninvited visitors like a trapped animal. When about to speak he pulled himself together by a tremendous effort and in that moment Major Mosson sensed failure. Instead of being surprised into an admission, the man had been rendered dumb. Before he could incriminate himself he had sufficently recovered his self-pos-session to be on the defensive. "Cela n'est pas a mon addresse, m'sieur," he answered almost calmly. "You speak English well enough," Mosson returned sharply. "I beg your pardon. In my country I am right to speak my own language. Also my English it is not of the best. What was it you wanted to know, please?" In cold blood Mosson found it impossible to be accusative. _ "I am making further inquiries into the shooting of General Parminster," he observed lamely. Brule advanced closer. "But you ask me why I shoot him, I think," lie murmured. " That is very funny. " He threw back his head and laughed loudly, a trifle too shrill to be entirely convincing. " Me, m'sieur 1 Why d 6 you say so?" " Investigations lead us to believe that Sir Vincent was shot by a pistol hidden in cinematograph camera. ' "Did I not make that very suggestion at your Scotland Yard? ' "Yes, now I come to think of it, you did." "Ha ! So I tell you how it could be done for you to "find me out as the murderer. That, I tell you m'sieur, is not logic. Your very clever policemen should have arrested me at the time. Then you did not think much about what 1 said. Now you pick on me, who try to help." "The theory seemed slightly fanciful," Mosson remarked. "There was no evidence, only a possibility, without anything to back it up." "Well, m'sieur, I wait." "There is no sense in beating about the bush. In your workshop, Brule, there is a cinematograph camera. . . " You make yourselves at home in my absence, gentlemen. 1 have three here and another at the studio." "One of them is particularly interesting." _ . . . "But all of them are, 1 assure you. Many of my ideas are incorporated. That is why I am annoyed. From a close examination a rival could rob me of improvements which have not been patented." . "Scotland Yard is not concerned in robbing you." "But no, m'sieur. That is not to be expected. Which of them was found so much worth examining? \ou will show me, vcs." "A newish looking one," Mosson explained as they proceeded to the workroom. „ . . ~ . (To he continued daily)