Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 276, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 March 1930 — Page 11

jMAKCH 29, 1930.

OUT OUR WAY

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/V\u rdei3 Backstairs Jj y Anne Austin copyright by nba serv/h

BEGIN HIRE TODAY DORIS MATTHEWS, lady’s maid. Is murdered in a summerhouse on the , Berkeley estate, by blow with heavy perfume flask, given AIRS. BERKELEY by sJKaIOUR CROSBY, engaged to CLORINUA BERKELEY, whose scarf Is found bound about the rock-weighted bo<iy when it is removed from the lake by DETECTIVE DUNDEE. A wealth of evidence involves Mrs. Berketey. Clorinda. DICK BERKELEY, in love with the murdered girl; her fiance. EUGENE ARNOLD, chauffeur; OIGI BERKELEY, 15. who unaccountably sprinkled every one Friday evening with perfume from the murder flask, later placed in Mrs. Berkeley's bathroom bv WICKETT the butler, and JOHN MAXWELL, former suitor of ' Clorinda. believed to have been with her Friday night when stie admits having been in the summerhouse, after the crime. But an unfinished letter of Doris to her sister in England places an entirely new light on the case, and Seymour Crosbv become startlingly Involved. Dundee, novice detective, has been a guest in the house largely to observe Crosby, under a cloud fourteen months before when his young wife. PHYLLIS CROSBY, died in England. In her letter Doris, formerly maid to Mrs. Crosby, hints darkly of murder and her own plans of vengeance, but does not name her suspect Dundee frames cablegram to Scotland Yard, then grills Crosby, who protests entire innocence of his wife's death when she fell from roof of apartment hotel in London. When he violently repudiates the charge that he has tried to bribe Doris to silence, then murdered her, CAPT STRAWN shows him Doris’ damning letter. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORI ViHAFTER TWENTY-SEVEN (Continued.) Jl“No? Why. her name’s in headilMies." Strawn pretended to misunArstanci. “Listen to this: Maid .Me ars society scion in suicide of *vife.’ . . . Well. Crosby, I’ll run over /the story, and —correct me if I am Vrong! & “In October. 1927, you were mark’d in New York City to Miss > tyllis Benham. daughter of anewJh manufacturer. Cullen Benham. |u had known her only a few teles, having met her in the home ” ' Mr. and Mrs. Van Renssalaer a .naxert. m.frs. Lambert had taken the girl up quite suddenly and was acting as her social sponsor, until Mr. ’ Lambert 's sudden death, due to a polo accident, in September. “After a honeymoon in Canada, you and your wife returned to New York, recruited the Lamberts’ former butler, Wickett. to head your , future staff of servants, took Wickett and your wife’s maid. Doris Matthews, with you to London, where you occupied a large apartment in Queen’s Hall, anew and fashionable apartment hotel. Apparently, you and your new wife were ideally happy ” “Not apparently—actually! In every sense of the word, my wife and I were ideally happy!” Seymour Crosby corrected the detective. “Yeah?” Strawn grinned. “So ideally happy that, according to your own story. Phyllis Crosby committed suicide while still a bride—but. according to my belief, supported by Doris Matthews herself, you and your wife were so ‘ideally happy’ that you murdered her!" “That’s a lie!” Crosby cried out passionately. "Doris is dead. She can not tell you herself that you lie, but I can. and do!” “Yeah?" Strawn said again. “Look at this!” and he picked up the scattered. sheets of Doris' letter to her sister. • CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT “lITELL, what have you got to VV say now. Crosby?” Captain Strawn snapped, when Seymour Crosby silently had read Doris Matthews' letter to her sister and was returning it with a trembling hand. All 1 can say is, ahat I wish to God Doris were still alive to tell me what she knew or suspected, so that I could avenge my wife's death. ” Crosby answered. “As it is, I don’t know what she meant—” “When she wrote: ‘lf only— But It's too late now. My darling lady is in her grave, the "case” is closed forever, and maybe I did what she %’ould have wished me to do. But f should die happy it I could live to see the one who broke her heart * and killed her—yes, actually killed her!—suffer as she suffered. I know the law is powerless in e case like this, but there are other ways!”’ Strawn interrupted, readtag the damning passage with slow land terrible emphasis. “I repeat: Id< n't know what hDoris meant'” let me tell you, Crosbv!" %rawn commanded sternly. “For ■fore than two weeks, according to Wtur own admission at the inquest ■Sid according to the testimony of

Mrs. Lambert, your wife had not been herself. “She wept frequently, refused to see any of her friends except Mrs. Lambert, and even wrote to her father In New York that she had made a terrible mistake in marrying. “In that letter she asked him to cable her $25,000, and begged him to allow her to return to his home. Her father refused the first request, by cable, but told her to come home immediately. That's right, isn’t it, Crosby?” “Those facts came out at the inquest, yes.” Crosby admitted in a flat voice. “It was the first I knew lof her letter to her father. I had | no idea she—wished to leave me. and until this day I haven't the remotest idea why she wrote as she | did. “I repeat: I loved my wife with all my heart, and she loved me. During those two weeks you speak | of she told me repeatedly that she ' loved me, but wmuld give no exI olanation of her fits of weeping.” a a a •■’YT'EAH?” Strawn sneered. “Can’t you guess? By that time Phyllis Crosby knew beyond the shadow of a doubi that you had married her for her money—” “That's a foul lie!" Crosby flung at him furiously. "Yeah? Well, lie or not, that’s j what Phyllis Crosby must have had good reason to believe; otherwise, i why should she have written her father as she did?” Strawn gibed. . ‘I believe, further, that your wife ; found that you were unfaithful to ! her, that you were keeping another woman on her father’s money—” “Strawn. I'll be damned if I let you—” “How are you going to help your- | '■elf?" Strawn grinned. “T admit that’s supposition on my part. But —how else could you break your wife’s heart, as Doris Matthews charges you did?” “Those words do not refer to me!” Crosby denied passionately. “Who did she mean then?” Strawn demanded reasonably. "I—don't —know,” Crosby admitted. “I wish to God I did!” “Well, let’s get along with the story. The climax carne shortly after dinner on the night of Sunday, May 6. Your wife ate nothing, burst into tears at table, and fled to her room in hysterics. “You followed her and she refused to admit you About 10 o'clock that evening, Mrs. Lambert, who had been a guest in your home the previous Sunday—summoned by you from Biarritz to cheer your wife up —discovered that Mrs. Crosby had left her bedroom. “She traced her to the roof of the apartment, hotel, found her weeping inconsolably, tried again to learn what was wrong, and Anally, at your wife's request, returned to the apartment to tell you that Mrs. Crosby Vished to see you. “You left the drawing room instantly, and Mrs. Lambert summoned Mrs. Crosby’s maid, Doris, asking her to take an evening wrap to the roof for your wife, since, the night had turned cool and Mrs. Crosby was wearing a thin evening dress. Still correct, Crosby?” ’ Yes,” the tortured man admitted, and bowed his head upon his trembling hands. “Now. according to your testimony at the inquest, you did not proceed immediately to the roof. Instead, you took time to go to the library to get a volume of poetry, from which you say you intended to read to your wife.” “And that, too, is the exact truth!” Crosby asserted passionately, raising reddened eyes to glare at his tormentor. “Phyllis wat unusually fond of Swinburne, and I had a sudden inspiration to read to her. “I believed then, as I have believed until today, that her hysteria was the result of her condition, and that the poetry she loved would soothe her nerves and—and ” “And convince your heiress-wife that it was she you loved, not the woman she was jealous of?" Strawn insinuated. “For God’s sake, stick to the facts!” Crosbv roared. “There was no othdF woman ”

—By Williams

“QUITS me!” Strawn grinned, ij “The bare facts are that you had a volume of poetry in the pocket of your dinner coat when your wife’s body was found, and that you walked up two flights of stairs to the roof, instead of taking the elevator. “Consequently, no employe of the apartment hotel could say just how long you had been on the roof when your wife was killed. Right?” “I rang for the lift, but as it was slow in coming, I ran up the stairs, to join my wife as quickly as possible,” Crosby explained dully. “Yeah? Well, your story is that when you got to the roof you saw your wife standing at the low railing which incloses the roof. “You called to her, she raised her right hand to wave at you, then quickly climbed to the top of the railing and—jumped to her death to the court below!” Only an agonized groan from the bowed head answered him. “Now for Doris Matthews* story at the inquest,” Strawn went on implacably. “She testified that she rang for the elevator, which opened for her almost immediately ” “A point in Mr. Crosby’s favor, Captain Strawn,” Dundee interrupted quietly. “The elevator operator testified that he was ascending in answer to a previous ring, recorded when his car was on the first floor.” “Yeah?” Strawn grinned, in nowise nonplused. “You didn’t think Doris and her master forgot to fix up that little point between them, did you? . . . Well, let’s see what Doris testified now. “She said she emerged from the ‘lift’ at the top floor, walked up the very short flight of stairs leading to the roof, and was just stepping foot upon the roof when she heard a shrill scream, followed by th'e pound of a man’s voice calling, ‘Phyllis! Phyllis! Oh, my God!’ “And. most providentially for Mr. Seymour Crosby, Doris testified that she saw him running across the roof to the spot from which the scream had come, the place from which his wife leaped to her death. “According to her story, you were fully fifty feet from the railing when she heard the scream and caught a glimpse of fluttering white as the woman leaped, Mr. Crosby.” “Yes,” Crosby groaned. “That Is all the exact truth. Doris reached the railing almost as soon as I did, and—restrained me from leaping after my wife.” “So she said!” Strawn nodded. “Now, let me tell you what really happened, as I reconstruct that tragedy. You were lying when you said you stopped for a book, It was already in your pocket. (To Be Continued) Man, 55. Weds Girl. 17 LOGANSPORT, Ind.. March 29. May joined hands with December on a stormy March day when Mildred Cohee, 17, was married to Phillip Friskey, 55, here.

THE SON OF TARZAN

The beginning of the Ape’s trip back to jungle freedom was set for the very day on which the future Lord Grevstokc was to return to school. Generously supplied with money, he had seemingly busied himself preparing for the event, and had invested in many strange purchases, which he managed to pack, undetected. With his parents’ permission he had gone for a last farewell visit with Akut, and here he was soon earnestly pleading with old Paulvitch.

'iiiE IIN DiAiN HMEb

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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“Let me take the ape to Dover.” h? said. “I can do it and still arrive at my school in time. No one will be any the wiser. It will save you the tiresome journey, no harm will be done, and I will have an extra day with my jungle friend before I lose him forever.” The wad of bills he placed in the Russian's hand was almost unnecessary, for the plan fitted perfectly into that which the wicked Paulvitch had in his own devilish brain.

—By Martin

That afternoon Lord and Lady Greystoke bade tnsir son good-by and saw him safetly settled in a first-claps compartment of the railway carriage that would set him down at Eaton in a few hours. Little did they realize that many years were to elapse and strange things happen before, if ever, they were to see him again! . . . When they had left him the boy gathered his bags, left the train and drove directly to the Russian’s address.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edprar Rice Burrcucrh3

It was dusk when he arrived. He found Paulvitch awaiting him—pacing the floor nervously. The ape was tied with a stou' rope to the bedpost. It was the first time the boy had seen the animal secured. He looked questicningly at the Russian. The man mumbled somp excuse. Another rope was in the villain’s hand; with a noose in its end The man’s pockmarked face worked horribly as he talked to himself. His actions made the lad uneasy.

PAGE 11

—By Ahem

—By Blosser

—By Crane

By Small

—By Cowsl