Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 262, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 March 1929 — Page 22

PAGE 22

SHE BLAGK raGKWfI By NEA Service, Inc, g/ ANNE AUSTIN

CHAPTER XLIV (Continued) “If it hadn’t been for those pigeon footprints, inside and outside a dosed window, I doubt if a grand jury would have indicted him—” But again he was amazed to discover that the girl was not listening to him. She was smiling and nodding, with carefree gayety, to ♦he young man across the airshaft, who, after reading the brief message, gave her a puzzled smile and ncd in return, and then tore the ribbon of paper to bitscrhe pigeons, fluttered after them greedily. “XT THAT was that message?” McW Mann demanded sternly. "Oh”—Ruth laughed, as she turned away from the window—“just a novel way of making a date with my young man! Please don’t scold, Mr. McMann! I promise you that Jack won’t run away—that if, at 5 o’clock today, you still want to arrest him for the murder of Henry P. Borden, he’ll be here and I shan’t utter a word of protest!” “You’re pretty sure of yourself,” McMann told her, eyeing her with frowning curiosity. “Holding out on me, aren’t you?” “Why, of course not, Mr. McMann!” Ruth disclaimed, with wide-eyed innocence. “You know far more than I do—and all that I do. But we were talking of Mr. Borden’s will. It was rather disappointing, wasn’t it? I thought he had more originality than that—” McMann returned to the desk, sat back and selected a memo from his stack of notes. “I wouldn’t say Harry Borden was lacking in originality,” he said, with an odd smile. “There’s one clause I haven’t told you about—the strangest clause ever written into a last will and testament .'. CHAPTER XLV RUTH’S attention was wholly diverted now from her own secret schemes and hopes. “The strangest clause ever written into a last will and testament?” she repeated, her voice rising on an incredulous, questioning note. “The newspapers will eat this up,” McMann grinned. “Well—this is the clause, shorn of the fancy legal trimmings that Walters is so crazy about: In the event of his death by foul play—murder, manslaughter or simple homicide, as the case may be—Henry F- Borden bequeathes the sum of $5,000 to the person or persons instrumental in bringing his murder to justice. . . . Now what do you think of that?” What Ruth thought was temporarily beyond the power of words to express, but the detective seemed content with her wide-eyed amazement. “No, sir. I never heard of a man so obsessed with the idea that he w..s going to be bumped off that he took care of the reward in his will,” McMann commented. Then, chuckling: “I’m beginning to like that man! I can use five grand. Tl.e wife’s been deviling me to make a down payment on a house in Fairview—’’ The girl ruthlessly interrupted tthe detective’s happy counting of his chicks before they were hatched. “Did the lawyer, Mr. Walters, say who it was that Mr. Borden feared would murder him?” ••* • “I asked .iim, of course,” McMann assured her, “but the lawyer says he named no names, just made a great point of getting, that clause in exactly right. I asked him if he thought Borden had the • Manning woman in mind, but he said he frankly didn’t know—that Borden had told him of receiving a number of death-threat letters from suckers who’d lost their life savings in his get-rich-quick schemes, and had even put a number of these letters in his hands, for him to deal with. “It seem- that Walters refrained from taking **f the letters to the police, knowing that his client would have simply been sticking his head into the lion’s mouth. Now that Borden’s dead, Walters can freely admit that his precious client ought tc have been in jail years ago.” a a “TTY the ■way,” Ruth began casu--13 ally, “have you found any trace of the old man who came to see Mr. Borden Saturday morning? The poor old thing who muttered he’d get even with Mr. Borden for having ruined them?”

After a long minute of concentration. a smile lightened the fe- ' 7 of Crystal’s delicate new beauty. “What’s up, Crys?” Bob demanu ed. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.’’ “But I haven’t swallowed it yet. I'm just going to,” Crystal laughed, as she rose from her chair. “No, please sit still! I’m perfectly able to walk, if I take it slowly.” “Do anything you please—just so you don’t run away from us again,” Bob warned, her. Smiling back upon her cousin and his wife, so newly dear to her. Crystal closed the door between the dinmg room ana the hah. then seated herself— trembling a little from the effort of walking after a month in bed—at the telephone table in the hall. In a low voice she called the number of the Jonson farm. And now she trembled with apprehension. She was about to meddle in Cherry’s life. If her scheme to bring Nils and Cherry together again did not work, she might have nothing but Cherry’s bitter enmity. “Hello! Rhoda? . . . Crystal speaking. . . . Yes. she’s here, and she and Hope are both well. . . i know! Listen, Rhoda! Last night Nils extended me the most cordial invitation to come out to the farm te recuperate. “I know he had no idea then that Cherry would be here, but I’m going to ask you to do something that sounds awfully strange. I can’t explain over the phone. . . . You understand? Wpll I want you to ask Nils himself—yes, Nils,—to call

The detective started, and flushed. “So that’s what you’ve been gloating about, is it? Where did you pick up his trail?” “I?” Ruth repeated innocently. “I’m not a detective, Mr. McMann. I juSt wondered —that’s all.” “Well, as a matter of iact, we haven’t spent much time on the old bird,” McMann confessed. “We had nothing to go on but your meager description, and there’s no evidence at all that he came back Saturday •afternoon. The elevator operators are sure of that much.” “I just thought I’d ask.” Ruth apologized meekly. Then sha changed the subject. “I Suppose Mr. Walters knew all about Martha Manning and her son—Borden’s son?” “Naturally,” McMann agreed. “She’i even called on Walters to get him to use his influence with Borden, but Walters admits he advised his client to fight the case if the woman carried out her threat to sue for support of the child. “He did, however, advise Borden to create a tfust fund for the boy, but Borden got his back up because the woman was hounding him to do it. A stubborn devil—as well as a good many other kinds of devil,” McMann added. “But personally, I’m glad he was a vindictive devil as well, for I intend to earn that five thousand.” “By arresting Jack Hayward?” Ruth asked,‘’smiling. McMann hesitated, looked as if he did not relish the thought of wiping that cheerful smile off a face whose beauty and sweetness had made his grim business a little less unpleasant than usual. “I’m sorry, * Miss Lester, but damned if there’s any other course open to me. Police Commissioner Weeks let me hold up the arrest last night, because of his old friendship for your father and his sympathy for you—” “And you pleaded for more time because you knew your case against Jack was more full of holes than a slice of Swiss cheese!” Ruth interrupted vehemently. “And nothing that has developed today has strengthened your case against him! Rather, everything has weakened it!” “If you mean the Manning woman’s story, I don’t agree,” McMann argued reasonably. “I consider that Martha Manning left us exactly where she found us—even if I did catch her in a lie or two. I think it’s a pretty safe bet that she was here Friday night, and left those fingerprints. And we have no more evidence that she was here Saturday than that your death-threat-muttering old man came back> That’s right, isn’t it?” “Yes,” Ruth agreed. “Os course, I’ve got a man detailed to keep an eye on her, but I don’t expect anything to come of it.” • “And you still don’t think Rita did it, that she only robbed the dead body?” Ruth asked, still in that meek, you’re-a-big-clever-de-tective-and-I’m-only-a-little - girl voice. tt tt tt “ A CASE against Rita would be f*- more full of holes than your piece of Swiss cheese; it would be a sieve,” McMann retorted positively. “As far as murder goes, I mean. But as for robbery—she’ll do a nice little stretch for that, unless she knocks the jury for an acquittal, with those black eyes of hers. Which she probably will,” he added with gloomy cynicism. “But of course you’ll have done your duty,” Ruth sympathized. “So you see where all this leads us,” McMann summed up, almost apologetically. “Mrs. Borden already had got her check. No reason at all for her to come back and shoot her husband, because he’d said a sarcastic word or two to make her cry. Besides, the elevator boys swear she didn’t come back, and I can’t see her walking all the way up six flights of stairs, with coldblooded murder in her heart—especially since it’s pretty evident that she loved her husband, rotten though he was. “Hayward’s the only suspect left, now that the office boy is out of the picture. And speaking of Benny

me back in a few minutes, and to repeat his invitation to come out. I’ll explain later. . . Good-bye.” Crystal hung up the receiver 'ftly, glanced down the hall to ake sure that Cherry had not t lerged from her room, to which s ie had fled in tears; then, leaning against the wall occasionally for support, Crystal slowly walked to her own room and shut the door upon herself. She was so sure of the Invitation that she dragged out her suitcase, 1 whose 3a„t trip had ended in disaster in Peter Holliday’s shack in the woods near Beamish. She was packing slowly, stopping frequently to rest and to wipe the cold dew of fatigue from her lips and forehead, when the prolonged shrill of the telephone, bell told her that* the expected call had come. She heard Cherry’s door open, crash shut, the swift click of Cherry's high heels down the hall. Fortunately, however. Faith must have suspected something, for she had managed to reach the telephone first. It was Faith’s voice which called: “Telephone for you. Crystal!” “Oh, I though it was Nils, calling for me!” Cherry wailed. Faith replied, coolly: “It is Nils but the call is for Crystal.” . “Crystal!" Cherry exclaimed blankly. “Here! Let me have that receiver. Faith.” “I'll do no such thing!” Faith retored crisply. “The call is for Crystal and she’ll answer it.” • (To Be Continued!

reminds me of a bad turn the poor kid did you when he was willing to confess to murder to help you.” Ruth was startled. “Benny? What do you mean?” “Just this,” the detective began slowly, with dreadful significance, “I think the kid was telling about as much truth as lies. What became of your gun and who closed this airshaft window—” “I thought you ha‘d explained that, satisfactorily to yourself at least,” RjUth interrupted spiritedly, “by demonstrating that Jack could have closed it from his own window by using the windowpole.” The detective grinned. “It would have been a good trick—and maybe that’s how it was done. But let’s suppose that Benny did come back Saturday afternoon—a second time, I mean.” “To murder Mr. Borden?” Ruth asked scornfully. “Oh, no! For the same reason he came back the first time—to borrow your gun for target practice. I don’t believe it was gone out of your desk when he came back the first time, but that Borden bawled him out for meddling in your desk and sent him packing—just as both Benny and Minnie have said. “But Benny knew Borden was going to Winter Haven on the 2:15. Not knowing Borden had been killed, the kid sneaks back, and walks up the stairs as he said he did, so that he won’t be seen and questioned, possibly caught with tho stolen gun. He has his key. “He comes in, finds the gun gone, and goes into Borden’s office to see if it is there. He finds Borden dead, and the gun some distance away. No powder burns on the man’s vest, so the kid, used to firearms as he undoubtedly is, knows that Borden has not committed suicide. “He thinks first of you. I got it out of him yesterday that he had overheard Borden making love to you and your scream. He thinks you did it, and takes the gun to protect you. Then he notices the open window and wonders if it could have been Hayward, who, he knows, has seen and overheard the love-mak-ing and scream business, too. “Furthermore, Micky Moran has admitted that he told Benny, on the kid’s first return, about your scene with Hayward at the elevator at 1:20, when Hayward again threatened Borden’s life. ‘He closes the window—in case it had been Hayward who did it— Hayward with whom you’re in love with, and who must therefore be protected, too. With your gun accounted for, and the closing of the window, and with Rita to rob the dead body of the money that was missing, I can’t see a flaw in my case against Hayward—and I’m mighty sorry, for your sake.” tt tt tt RUTH brushed aside his sympathy. “And you think you can force Benny to admit to being an accessory after the fact, when he was so anxious to protect me and the man I love that he would confess to murder?” McMann shrugged. “I’ve simply laid all my cards on the table. I wanted you to know why it is my duty to arrest John C. Hayward for the murder of Harrfr Borden.” The girl went very white. There was no mirth, no assumed meekness in her eyes or voice now. She rose, and steadied her trembling body against the desk. “Mr. MqMann, you’ve been so good—so wonderfully kind to me. Won’t you please grant me one more favor? Won’t you promise not to arrest Jack before five o’clock today? I can’t explain now, but if you will let me leave here now. with permision to be gone not more than one hour. I promise you will not be sorry.” The girl’s intense earnestness apparently touched the hard-bitten detective. “One hour? ... All right, Miss Lester, but on condition that you do not go to the hospital and do any more vamping on poor Benny.” “I promise. And thank you with all my heart!” Ruth smiled through sudden tears. “Where are you going? Not going to try to take that five thousand away from a poor, hard-working detective, are you?”McMann grinned. “If I do, I’ll give you half—for helping me so much!” she laughed, and ran. It was a quarter past three when Ruth Lester left the Starbridge building on her unexplained mission, and just 4 o’clock when she returned, her cheeks rose-pink again, her eyes luminous with victory. Just outside the entrance to the builiing she paused, and took from the pocket of her dress the four tightly folded sheets of what she had ruefully admifted to Detective Birdwell sounded “a lot like fiction.” In a blank space on the first page, opposite the numeral 4, she wrote in the answer to the question which she had gone out to ask. . . . “And again it is proved—‘truth is stranger' than fiction’,” she mured exulticgly, as she refolded the typed sheets and returned them to her pocket. u tt tt IN the lobby of the Starbridge building she ran plump into just such a bit of drama as every bigcity dweller- lives in hope of witnessing and so seldom does. A uniformed policeman and a plain-clothes detective—one of McMann’s innumerable assistants on the Borden case—were struggling with a frenzied young man of crow-black hair, jet eyes, perfect features, oliV6 skin and immeasurably elegant clothes. A y6ung man who was cursing violently in a foreign language. “What is the matter?” Ruth cried, above the hubbub, and the detective, who had just succeeded in linking his wrist with that of the foreigner, volunteered the answer; “A bird the whole department’s been looking for, Miss Lester, and we find him here! Yes. ma’am! Walked in not five minutes ago, and I spotted him. When I told him the police want him, he draws a gun on me—says he come to kill his wife, that Dubois dame, for twotiming him with Borden, . . . (To Be Continued) ... . • y -

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

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SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRACCHKE

MARCH 22,1929

—By William*

-ttv Mnrtin

By Rlnssff

Bv Crane

By Small

By Cowan