HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1943-04-29, Page 7THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE, THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 29th, 1943 Supplement
NEW SERIAL STORY
... l ragedy oi X
by ELLERY QUEEN
CHAPTER I
..........................no.,.,..
Starting this week.,,
Relow, shimmering in a blue Sep
tember morning haze, was the Hud
son River. Au automobile pushed,
its way along the narrow,’ winding
road, rising steadily. Its two'pas
sengers looked out and up.
The car stopped at a quaint
bridge, From a thatched hut step
ped a ruddjt little old man. He
pointed wordlessly at a swinging
wooden sign above the door which
waid, in old English characters;
“No trespassing—The Hamlet,”
The other man, large and square,
leaned out and yelled: "We want
to see Drury Lane! He expects us!"
The bridgemaster scuttled for
ward to the bridge, manipulated a
creaking iron gate, stood back.
A short drive and t-lie car emerg
ed into a spacious clearing, A castle
sprawled before them, staked to the
Hudson hills by puny granite walls,
The immense oak-and-iron door
beyond the drawbridge, twenty feet
high, opened and, an astonishingly
rubicund little man in livery stood
there, bowing.
"District Attorney Bruno? Inspec
tor Thumm? This way, please." The
pot-bellied servitor trudged cheer
fully before them.
Out of a door in the farthest wall
stepped a hunchbacked figure—
bald, bewhiskered, wrinkled, wear
ing a tattered leather apron like a
blacksmith.
The newcomer advanced spryly.
"Good day, gentlemen. Welcome
to The Hamlet," He turned to the
eId man in livery and said: "Whisht,
Fa (staff. ” and District Attorney
Bruno opened bis wide eyes wider.
"Falstaff . , .” he groaned. "That
can't be his name!"
The hunchback ruffled his whis
kers. "No, sir. He used to be Jake
Pinna, the actor, But that’s what
Mr. Drury calls him . . .This way,
please."
Everything was redolent of Eliza
bethan England. Leather and oak,
oak and stone. In a fireplace,
twelve teet wide, a small fire was
burning. The ancient stood very
still near the wall, grasping his
beard; then he stirred and said,
quite clearly: "Mr. Drury Lane.”
A tall man stood regarding them
from the threshold. .
Mr. Drury Lane strode unto the
room end extended a pale muscular
hand. "Gentlemen. I’m delighted."
Bruno looked into gray-green eyes
of utter quietude; he. began to speak
and was startled to observe • the
eyes drop quickly to his lips. “Good
of you to receive Inspector Thumm
and myself, Mr. Lane," he murmur
ed. "We—well, we don’t know
quite what to say. You have an
amazing estate, sir.”
"Amazing at first glance, Mr.
Bruno, but only because it presents
to the twentieth century eye, surfeit
ed with severe angles, an anachron
istic quaintness.” The actor's voice
was serene, like his eyes, but richer
it seemed to Bruno, than any voice
he hod ever heard. "Quacey!”
The gnome stepped to the actor’s
side. “Gentlemen, this is my in
separable familiar and, I assure you,
a genius. He has been my make-up
man for forty years.”
In some mysterious manner the
two visitors sensed a tremendous
link between thesie completely an
titypical individuals and began to
speak at once. Lane’s eyes flick
ered from the lips of one to the
lips of the other, and his face
curved into the merest smile. "Sep
arately, please. I am quite deaf,
you see. I can read only one pair
of lips at a time—a latter-day ac
complishment of which I am very
vain."
BrUno cleared liis throat. "In-’
Spector Thumm and I both feel, Mr.
Lane, that we’re presuming a bit in
cothing to you this way. I should
never have sent my telegram, of
course, if you hadn’t solved the
Cramer case for us in that really
astounding letter of yours.”
"Scarcely astounding, Mr. Bru
no. You wished to consult me, ac
cording to your wire, on the Long
street murder?”
"Are you sure, Mr. Lane, that
the Inspector and t—well, we know
how busy ybu are.”
"I shall never be too busy to dab
ble hi the most elemental form of
dpama, Mr, Bruno.” The Voice was
colored how with the faintest ani
mation. "It was only after my
forced retirement from the stage
that t begftft to realize liov/ theatri
cal life itself can be. The creatures
of a play are. In Mercutin’s evalu
ation of dreams, ‘children of ah
idle brain begot of nothing, hut vain
fantasy.’ " The visitors stirred at
the magic that had leaped Into
Land’s voice. "Creatures of 'life,
however, in their moments of pas
sion present the larger aspects of
drama. They can nevex' be ‘as tlxin
of substance as the air and more
inconstant than the wind.’ All any
life in company I have been inter’
preting synthetic emotional climax
es. I have been, among others per
haps less noble, Macbeth, and I have
been Hamlet, And, like a child
viewing a simple wonder for the
first time, 1 have realized the world
is full of Macbeths and Hamlets,
Trite, but true. I now have the
Impulse to greater authorship than
created drama. Everything fits
so nicely; even my unfortunate af
fliction”^—a lean fingei1 touched his
ear—"lias contrived to sharpen my
powers of concentration, I have
only to close my eyes and I am in
a world without sound and there
fore without physical disturbance.”
Inspector Thumm ..looked bewild
ered. Bruno coughed. "I’m af
raid, Mr. Lane, that our little prob
lem is quite beneath the—well dig
nity of your detective ambitions.
It’s really just a plain case of mur
der—”
"Please,” said Lane, "give me-a
scrupulously detailed account, In
spector,” .
On the previous Friday after
noon (ran the story related by In
spector Thumm and with occasional
interpolations by the District At
torney), two people sat closely em
braced in the sitting-room of a suite
at the Hotel Grant, Forty-second
Street and Eighth Avenue.
They were Harley Longstreet,
middle-aged Wall Street broker, of
powerful body ravaged by years of
dissipation, dressed in rough tweeds;
Cherry Browne, musical comedy
star, a brunette with bold Latin fea
tures, black flashing eyes, passion
ate arched lips.
Longstreet kissed her and she
cuddled in his arms. "I hope they
never come.”
The man disengaged himeslf.
“They’ll be here. When I tell
Johnny DeWitt to jump, he jumps!”
“But why drag him here with
that frosty bunch of his if they
don’t want to come?”
"Because I like to see the old
buzzard squirm. He hates my guts,
and I love it.” He crossed the room
and poured himself a drink.
'"Sometimes," the woman said,
"I can’t figure you out. What you
get out of tormenting him is beyond
me.” She shrugged. “Is Mrs. De
Witt coming, too?"
"Why not? Now don’t go harp
ing on her again, Cherry. I’ve told
you a hundred times there’s noth
ing between us."
"Not that I care." She laughed.
"But it would be juslt like you to
steal liis wife, too." She jumped up
at the sound of a buzzer and hur
ried to the door. "Pollux, Old-Tim
er! Come in!"
A flashily dressed, oldish man
with a dark face and carefully pom
aded thinning hair put his arms
around the woman.
"Remember my old pal, Pollux?”
Her voice was gay. "Master Mind-
Reader of the Age on the two-a-
day. Shake hands, you two.”
The buzzer sounded again and
Cherry opened the door to admit a
small party of people.
A little slender middle-aged man
with gray hail’ and a brush-gray
mustache came in first. Longstreet
strode forward, exuding cordiality.
John O. DeWitt shrank as the big
man brushed by him to receive the
other -members of the party.
"Fern! This is a nice surprise”
•^-This to a faded stoutish woman of
Spanish type, with the barest traces
of a vanished beauty on her lac
quered face; DeWitt’s wife. Jeanne
DeWitt, a petite brownish girl, nod
ded coldly; she pressed closer, to her
escort, 'Christopher Lord, a tall
binr>H yniinw man. Longstreet ig
nored him and pumped the hands”
.of" Franklin Ahearn, DeWitt’s clos
est friend and Louis Imperiale, an
other, friend—a middle-a'ged Swiss,
meticulously dressed.
"Mike!” Longstreet clapped the
back of a broad man who had just
slouched through the door. Michael
Collins was a brawny Irishman with
porcine eyes and an apparently
fixed expression of hostility. Long
street grasped his arm. "Now don’t
drab this party, Mike,” he whisper
ed. "I told you I’d get DeWitt to
fix things up. Go over , there and
take a bracer."
Waiters appeared. Ice chimed
in glasses. The DeWitt party were
for the most part silent, strained,
Longstreet swooped Cherry Browne
demure and suddenly shy, into the
curve of one great arm, "Friends!
You all know why you’re here. Gala
occasion for the whole firm of De
Witt & Longstrdet an’ all their
friends and woIMvishers!" His
voice was a little thick now. "Have
the honor to present to you—future
Mrs. Longstreet!"
At 5.45 Longstreet excitedly
shouted: ‘‘Arranged a little dinner
p^rty at my place in West Engle
wood. ' F’got to tell you about it,
Surprise! All Invited.” He consult
ed his watch owlishly. "C’n make
reg’lar train if we start now, C'mou
everybody!”
DeWitt protested that he had
made other arrangements for the
evening, that his own guests , , ,
Longstreet glared. "I said every
body!” Imperiale shrugged; a faint
puzzled light glowed in Lord’s eyes
as he turned to look at DeWitt . . ,
The entire party crowded into an
elevator. In the lobby Longstreet
bought a late newspaper and or
dered taxicabs, On the sidewalk
the doorman whistled desperately
as weeks of hot weather gave way
suddenly to a vicious downpour.
Pollux whooped: "Here comes a
Crosstown!”
Longstreet snatched off his glass
es, returned them to the case, and
the case to his left pocket. He
waved his right hand, "Devil with
cabs!” he shouted, "Let’s take the
car!”
The streetcar squealed to a stop
as the Longstreet party dashed to it,
Cherry clinging to Longstreet’s left
arm, Longstreet’s left hand still in
his pocket.
The car was freighted to capacity.
Longstreet swayed with the rock
ing motion of the car,,a dollar bill
clutched in his right fist above the
heads of his fellow-passengers. The
humidity, with all the windows
closed, induced a feeling of suffoca
tion.
The conductor wriggled about and
took Longstreet’s bill. Longstreet
received his change and began to
shoulder his way after his party.
He found Cherry, who grasped his
right arm. The car edgpd on to
ward Ninth Avenue.
Longstreet thrust his hand into
his pocket and felt about for his
-■Spectacle case. A moment of this,
and with a sudden curse he snatch
ed his hand from his pocket, bring
ing out the silver case. Cherry
said: “What’s the matter?” Long
street uncertainly examined his
left hand: the palm and underskin
of the fingers were bleeding in a
number of places. “Must’ve scratch
ed myself. What in the world
could’ve . . .? he began thickly.
The car lurched and stopped; people
fell forward. Instinctively Long-
stret groped for a strap with his
left hand and Cherry held on to his
right arm for support. The cai*
jerked forward again a few feet
Lon’gstret dabbed heavily at his
bleeding hand with a handkerchief,
returned’ the cloth to his trousers,
extracted the glasses, from the case,
dropped the case into his pocket, and
made as if to open the folded news
paper he held tucked under his right
arm.
The car stopped at Ninth Avenue.’
A crowd pounded on the doors, but
the conductor shook his head.
Longstreet suddenly released the
strap, dropping the unread news
paper, and felt his forhead. He
was panting like a -man in great
pain. Cherry hugged his right arm
in alarm, turned as if to call for
help . . .
The car was between Ninth and"
Tenth Avenues now, stopping, start
ing, stopping, in the maze of traf
fic.
Longstreet gasped, stiffened con
vulsively, widened his eyes, and
collapsed.
Cherry screamed. Necks craned
and the Longstreet party pushed
their way toward the spot. Michael
Collins caught the aertess as she
reeled.
DeWitt stood stonily, his small
hands clenched. Ahearn and Lord
struggled with the heavy body and
managed to haul Longstreet into a
vacated seat. Longstreet was gasp
ing weekly; light flecks of foam
dribbled from his lips,
The growing uproar penetrated
forward into the ’ car. Suddenly a
policeman with sergeant’s stripes
elbowed through. He had been rid
ing on the front platform with the
motorman.
Longstreet stiffened again, then
became quite rigid. The sergeant
straightened up, scowling. "He’s
dead. Uli-huh!” He had caught
sight of the dead man’s left hand.
More than a dozen tiny trickles of
coagulating blood laced the skin of
fingers and palm from as many tiny
pricks, each swollen a little. "Mur
dered, looks like. I don’t want any
body to try to get off this car." He
called to the motorman: "Dfon’t
move this car, and see that those
doors and windows are kept Shut—
understand?" Then he yelled:
"Hey, conductor! Ruh down to the
corner of Tenth Avenue and tell
the traffic cop there to phone the
local precinct and tell It to got
Inspector Thumm at headquarters.
Got that straight? Wait—I’ll let
you out myself. I ain’t taking any
chance on somebody giving me the
slip."
(To be continued)
FIGHT ON STEPS
QF CHURCH AIRED
A blow by blow description of a
fight on the steps of St. Patrick's
Biddulpli Roman Catholic Church
after a Friday night Lenten service
with some of the rest of the congre
gation as an audience was given in
county court Thursday, April 22,
when Francis Mitchell, 25, was con
victed on a charge of assault caus
ing bodily harm to Michael Toohey,
Mitchell was fined $25 and costs
or ten days by Magistrate Donald
Menzies.
More than a score of the parish
ioners who attended the service,
April 8, attended the trial, wit
nesses for the defence sitting on
one side of the courtroom and wit
nesses for the prosecution on the
other. Bach side sought to prove
the othei’ "was the aggressor in the
fist-swinging which ended with
Toohey receiving a black eye and
a bloody nose.
Toohey said he was "jolted down
the church steps by Mitchell" after
passing through a swing door en
trance to the church. Mitchell said
that Toohey blocked the doorway.
The scrap started at the bottom
of the steps, evidence revealed,
with Toohey being knocked off his
feet four times. After the second
fall, both men threw off their over
coats and suit coats and squared
away while the1 parishioners form
ed a circle around them. The action
lasted about two minutes with the
accused landing most of the blows.
To a question by defence coun
sel, Toohey admitted "being in
another fight at the church when
about 15 years old." Defence coun
sel also suggested that Toohey bore
a grudge against the accused be
cause Mitchell had apparently
ESTABLISHED i>W
y.❖
*
A FINISH FOR EVERY SURFACE
FOR
SALE
BY
Huron Lumber Co.
Exeter
-----------MUi
A. Spencer & Son
Hensall
frightened Toohey’s horses by driv
ing his car near them two weeks
before the church fight.—-London
Free Press,
Ma: Will you love me when my
hair has turned to gray, dear? Pa;
Why not? Haven't I stuck with you
through brown, black, red and
blonde?
Man; "Do you believe in luck?”
Friend; "Well, I should say Id).
See that fat woman in the big hat
and the red dress? Well, I once ask
ed her to be my wife."
her untappeb resources, or even the
Jorious war recorb of a people num*
ering loss than twelve millions ♦
ir.i i .L.r.iiT- A - 4 ’ ’<4 4 ♦ 4
love, whose soul speaks to us from
everp free acre of Ganablan soil...
in the splenbour of the Rockies at situ*
the quiet of ah Ontario wooblot, the far
surf on the Atlantic shore anb the wash
of the fiacifc tibes. It speaks to us from
ehurchvarbs where Ganablan beab lie
have faith in Ganaba
Emilio'have faith in her pas
that the courts
spirit which ad
linkeb a continent with the shining steel
of railwaps have laib strong founba*
tions for national greatness anb unity.
have faith in her present-^ in
blithe part she is plaping to saw the
worlb from tprannp...in her pouhgmen
anb women who serve on lanb anb sea
anb* in the air., .in her workers who la*
hour for more than wages., .in everp man
anb woman anb chilb striving forXTietorp.
have faith in her future^believ-
USJing that she is bestineb to exert an
ew-increasinig influence in worlb af*
fairs, anb in the shaping of tomorrow,
when tnanp will turn to her with new hope.
^|TlG[have faithan more than the sta-
LlfJtistics of Gunaba’s bank clearings
anb her ear*loabings, the vastnoss op-
tym tBmyis ati of Faith in Cfanada
ith
ge of the pioneers anb the
chieveb Gonfeberation anb
£
hi
faith is a faith in a lanb we
y® love, whose soul speaks to us from
everp free acre af Ganablan soil...
set,the blue mpsterp of a X/aurentian bawn,
call of prairie horizons, the sounb of’,
surf on the Atlantic shore anb the wash
of the fiarife tibes. It speaks to us from
ehurchvarbs where Ganablan beab lie
beneatn the tribute of Gnglish blossoms
...from the poppieb fie lbs of Erance anb
Elanbers ‘ ‘ ‘
faring anb mechaniseb epics of anew war.
frith is a faith in her people. ♦.
JiSfipeople, noteb anb obscure, with whom
we bailp rub shoulbcrs. .,anb bp whose
nniteb effort, sacrifice anb creative vigour
the greater Ganaba of tomorrow will be built.
IOOg! have faith in Gsnaba
♦ . .from the wingeb anb sea-