Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 283, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 April 1930 — Page 10

PAGE 10

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BFf.fN HFRF. TODAY DORIS MATTHEWS, lady * m*lJ. is murder-d In s iumm*rtiouM on the Berkeley estate, bv blow from heavy perfume flask. Riven MRS GEORGE BERKELEY bv SEYMOUR CROSBY, ena*e<3 to CLORINDA BERKELEY, whose scarf binds the roek-weißhted hody when It. Is taken from the lake by DETECTIVE DUE' <jEE. Eettously Involved are: Mrs. Berkele- . DICK BERKELEY. EUGENE ARNOLD chauffeur. Doris’ fiance. GIGI BERKELEY, who unaccountablv sprinkled everyone Friday evening with perfume from murder flask, later placed In Mrs. Berkelev r rooms bv WfCKETT. butler, formerly emploved bv MRS. LAMBERT, now'Mrs. Berkeley’s secretary. An unfinished letter o>f Doris to her sister In London links the maid’s murder with the suicide of PHYLLIS CROSBY, then her mistress. 14 monms before. CAPTAIN BTRAWN. ready to arrest Crosbv. whom he believes responsible for his wife’s death and the maid’s murder, considers the latt-tr case solved when ! HARVEY JOHNSON, valet. Is discovered missing after a robbery of the house, and sets net for Johnson, leaving Dundee in charge i ... Unsatisfied, qulnes Mrs Lambert on the death of Phyllis Crosbv. Doris’ former mistress, which Mrs Lambert inslt’s was suicide, exonerating Crosbv. Save she knows nothing concerning Doris’ murder, hut. cannot, wholly accept the Johnson theory, or any theory reflecting on Doris’ character. Baffled. Dundee borrows GEORGE BERKELEY’S ivpewrlter to transcribe notes on the case and discovers carbon paper, proving Berkeley had been writing a letter to his lawyer regarding the purchase of a beautv parlor to be run bv Doris. He asks himself: Why had Berkeley not finished that letter NOW GO ON WITH THF. STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-FTVF 'Continued.) “Yes.” Gig! laughed. “Funny Dad should choose one in the shape of a whisky barrel, isn’t It? See the XXX? But see also the skull and cross bones below, to warn you that the liquor this little barrel holds is most, awfully poison! . . . Ready? I’m going with you and watch you work.” “No. you’re not!” Dundee correct- j ed her positively. “Go roll a hoop, infant!” “I think you're mean!” Gigi sulke#, but she was grinning cheerfully again when he firmly shut his own door between them. His room, which really was Dick Berkeley’s study, was a pleasant place, with the afternoon sun flooding it and a crisp breeze stirring the wool-embroidered pongee curtains. Although he was eager to get to work, Dundee stepped to one of the broad, 1ov t windows and looked out upon the beautifully kept front lawn, breathing deep of the tangy autumn air. Those were literally his first deep, lazy breaths since the body of Doris Matthews had been discovered in the lake that morning. ana SUDDENLY he leaned farther out of the window, surprised at the sight of two figures slowly approaching from the west side of the house. A big. splendidly built man and a slighter, younger one, both in j tennis flannels, both swinging i rackets as they walked and talked ; together, in apparent good-fellow- ; ship. George Berkeley and his son, Dick! “Well. If this tragedy has brought them closer together, that’s something to the good anyway.” Dundee commented to himself, as he prepared to set to work. He opened Dick’s desk, set Mr. j Berkeley’s portable typewriter upon ;t, arranged his sheaf of notes on one side of the machine and the pad of confiscated paper upon the other. About to head the paper he had found in the machine with the words. MRS. BERKELEY’S STORY, iie happened to look at the edge of he carbon paper projecting slightly from the edge of the two sheets of white paper. The carbon paper was turned Trong side up. so that if he had mtten, the second sheet would lave been blank. Rolling the three heets out of the machine, he was oout to reverse the carbon when 8 noticed that It had been used at once and that only the date, jading and five lines of an unfinhed letter had cut into its gleamg purple surface. He glanced at ie reverse printing casually. Suddenly he uttered a sharp exlamation. then dashed to the bathx>m. Standing before the mirror bove the basin he held the carbon iaper so that it was easy to read chat George Berkeley had written: Hillcrest, Sept. 27, 1929. •It. C. E. Atwood. Attomey-at-Law. reen Building, amilton. Dear Chris: “There is a small latter which I wish you would hane for me personally, in strictest onfidence. As if it were for your.lf. I should like you to investigate he commercial possibilities of a mall beauty shop or beauty parlor m a good block in Hamilton, getting r. estimate of the cost of Dundee whistled, long and low. ' ere was the answer to at least one jf the perplexing questions which Joris’ last letter had raised. It as George Berkeley she had meant hen she wrote: “It will take bucks of money, of course, but I know here I can get all or more than I Nfd.’j Why should George Berkeley be iling to finance a beauty parlor T a girl who had been in his emoy less than two months? A girt ho had. innocently or not. cap-' red the love of his only son? And the date of Berkeley's letter ' his lawyer was Sept. 27—Friday, he day Doris Matthews was murired. Why had George Berkeley ot finished that letter? CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ITHY had George Berkeley not rV finished that letter? That lestion had just crashed through undee's almost dazed brain when iere came a knock upon the door. He opened it to find Wickett gin’rly holding a large bird cage, in hich Cap'n crouched upon his 'rch, every feather ruffled indigently. * *IA policeman brought this. sir. says you wanted it. sir.” HRlght, Wickett!” Dundee Snhed. “Hello, Cap'n. I told you yfcnight send for you.” and he jßehed'into the cage to stroke the How-and-green head soothingly. £Ble nipped me, sir, when I tried Ifßlo that." Wickett offered sadly. iß’m afraid he’s a one-man bird.” gSidee grinned. “By the way, frekett. I'd ra'her you did not menm the parrot. I don't care to A a reputation for being ecceni Af. m f *STeB. sir. Thank yu. sir." 'ffckett said, as he pocketed, with

much dignity, the $5 bill which ] Dundee had slipped into his hand. 1 “One more thing. Wicket!;,” Dundee detained him. “Was Mr. Berkeley at home yesterday afternoon?” “Oh. no sir. He turned from his business at, the usual time—s:3o.” “Do you know whether Mrs. Berkeley told him of the little scene between Arnold. Doris and Mr. Dick?” Dundee a-'ked casually. “I couldn’t say, sir.” “Then, do you know whether Mr. Berkeley spent some time with Mrs. Berkeley before dinner?” "Yes. sir. A messenger boy arrived about, 6 with a large envelope for Mr. Berkeley. He was there when Mrs. Berkeiey rang me on the house teelphone to ask me to come up for some instructions regarding dinner, sir ” “And they had been quarreling, Wickett?” The butler hesitated, and instinctively looked over his shoulder. Then, lowering his voice, he confided: “Yes. sir. It seemed to be about Mr. Crosby, sir. I gathered ! that, the envelope contained a report i of some sort, concerning Mr. Cros- | by.” man NOW, Wickett, tell me: Did Mr. j Berkeley send for Doris or! see Doris after his return from his office yesterday?” “Yes, sir. A few minutes before | the messenger arrived. He asked j me to send her to him in the library, sir.” “Did he seem—well, angry?” “No, sir. He seemed much as usual, sir, but Mr. Berkeley always is a stem man. She was with him for a few minutes only.” “Did you see her or talk with her after she left Mr. Berkeley?” “I saw her, sir, as she was going upstairs to get Mrs. Berkeley dressed for dinner, but I did not detain her.” “Then Doris was with Mrs. Berkeley when your master and mistress were quarreling over Mr. Crosby’s engagement to Miss Clorinda?” j “Yes, sir." After a moment of reflection, j Dundee asked abruptly: “Just when was it that Mr. Berkeley wrote let- j ters on the typewriter in his room ■ yesterday?" “I can't say that he wrote letters at all, sir, but Mr. Berkeley was writing on his machine when I went to his room about 6:45 to ask for the key to the wine cellar, sir.” “Did he later give you any let- j ters to send to the postofflee?” “No sir. Arnold went to the post- j office with some letters Mrs. Lam- ; bert gave me to have mailed, but j they did not include one written j by Mr. Berkeley.” Again Dundee considered for a j long minute, frowningly. Then: “Wickett, did Doris tell you. or did you observe for yourself, that Mr. George Berkeley was—well, in love with her?” Wickett looked profoundly shocked I and indignant. “Certainly not, sir!” Was that denial a shade too emphatic to be taken at its face value? Dundee asked himself, after the butler had been dismissed. And then he remembered that his "Watson” was with him, that it was no longer necessary to keep his thoughts to himself. And Cap'n had already proved, in the Rhodes House murders, that he was a stimulating audience. “What do you thing, ‘my dear Watson?’ ” he addressed the parrot, poking him to attention. “Does it strike you as entirely absurd that a middle-aged, virile, handsome man, not at all in love with his impossible wife, should be more than a trifle indiscreet with his wife’s lovely maid?” Captain turned slowly on his perch and drooped a paperish-white lid. “Exactly!” Dundee laughed. “But, ‘mv dear Watson,’ Mrs. Lambert and Wickett are most anxious not to have us think that Doris was ’that kind of girl!’ But what other explanation can there be for this letter which George Berkeley tore up before it was finished? “What say you, Watson? Did George Berkeley, multi-millionaire, suddenly decide to be damned before he’d pay black-mail and—to insure the girl's silence in another way?” man CAP'N'S sole answer was a throaty chuckle. “Probably you’re right, Watson,” Dundee agreed lugubriously. “I should say he is!” a vigorously indignant young voice cried from the bathroom door. "Gigi! You outrageous little snooper!” Dundee went to the girl, seized her by the arms and shook her. ’ You’re a blight—and I ought to spank you.” “So many people feel that way about me,” Gigi mourned. “But I wasn't eavesdropping intentionally. Dick sent me up to get him a package of his special cigarets and I heard you talking through the open door into the bathroom. “Thought you’d gone crazy and were talking to yourself. But why k do you want talk to a silly old parrot. when you could use me for a Watson? lat least could say, ‘Marvelous. my dear Holmes’— V” “Oh. would you?” Dundee mocked. "You would laugh at every theory I trotted out.’ "Yes. if they were all as silly as the ones I’ve heard so far,” she agreed cheerfully. "Tell you what —l’ll be the detective and spin a theory myself. ... Sit down!” she commanded suddenly, in an excellent imitation of Captain Strawn’s most official and officious voice. "I’m going to put you through the , third degree!” Rather to his own surprise. Dun- : dee obeyed. “When did you last see Doris Matthews?” she began belligerently. “Last night, at about 10:30?” Duni dee answered promptly, grinning. I “Your brother Dick was forcing her [ to dance with him in the back hall, ■ as well as forcing her to promise to i meet him later.” “When did you first see Doris Matthews?” Gigi went on sternly. “At the same time.” Dundee answered “Mr. Dundee, do you know an English gentleman named Sir Edward Moresby?” Gigi startled him by asking. “Yes v I jo. I was in his home

several times when I worked in Scotland Yard, of which he is a department head.” “And Kathryn Matthews, sister of Doris Matthews, works for Lady Moresby, does she not?” Gigi demanded, with lifted eyebrow’s. "Yes. What of it?” Dundee asked, mystified. “Just this, Mr. 'Bonnie) Dundee!” Gigi retorted, with exaggerated significance. “Doris herself told me that she sometimes called on her sister at Sir Edward’s house in London. Was that where you met, fell in love with and led Doris Mat- I thews astray?” "Don’t be an idot, Gigi!” Dundee commanded sternly. “Every one seems to think that’s a perfect retort to anything I say,” Gigi complained in her natural voice. Then, becoming Capt. St.rawn again, she said slowly, heavily: “Mr. James Dundee, let me tell you the story of the murder as I see it: nan ■■you did know Doris Matthews 1 m England. You did fall in love with her. When Dick invited you to his house yesterday, you had no idea, of course, that you would see your old flame here. “To your intense surprise and consternation, you come upon her in the back hall, in another man’s arms! Jealous, or frightened at what she might tell on you. I can’t say which ” “I should think you couldn’t.!” Dundee laughed. “That’s right—laugh while the laughing’s good!” Gigi retorted sternly. “You are in a panic. You telephone to police headquarters, cannily planting suspicion against Seymour Crosby, for a crime which has not been committed yet. “When you go upstairs, it is not to sleep the sleep of the just, but to plan a dastardly crime! Your room is on the third floor. You waylay Doris, hear from her that she is to meet Arnold in the summerhouse. She says she will tell her fiance the truth about you and that he will kill you! But you know Arnold can not meet her, that he is taking the Smiths home. And it is you* who keep that tryst?” “That’s good, all right,” Dundee laughed admiringly. “Good! It’s perfect!” Gigi corrected him. “You have admitted that you stole downstairs, that you heard Clorinda unbolt the back door. And circumstance was playing into your hands! "Here was another suspect made to order! On your way out. you pick up Clorinda’s scarf which she has dropped while unbolting the door. A means of strangling the girl, if the flask of perfume which you have stolen from Abbie’s room doesn’t prove an effective weapon. That weapon you have chosen with the cunning of the devil. You know that any spilled perfume can not betray you, since it has been sprinkled upon every one in the drawing room. “You know, too, that it will implicate any one of three others—Crosby. who gave it to Abbie. Wickett who took it upstairs, or Abbie in whose room it had been left. Then there is the scarf to implicate Clorinda . . . Well?” she snapped, as Strawn might have done. "I can only say ‘Captain Strawn.’” Dundee protested with mock solemnity, “that it is all lies, lies! I did not kill Doris Matthews!” “So you say!” she scoffed. Then, dropping suddenly into her own voice and manner and seizing his hands, she cried: “I know’ you didn’t kill her, Bonnie Dundee! I know that’s an idiotic theory! But, oh, don’t you see? It’s so easy to build up theories against almost any one who was in this house last night!” “I grant you that, Gigi.” Dundee answered soberly. “Then you won’t be an idiot? Gigi begged. "You won’t, go off halfcocked and suspect Dad and Abbie and Clorinda and Mrs. Lambert and Wickett and —me?” “I promise,” Dundee answered ith real solemnity. “Will you get out now and let me work?” (To Be Continued! FORMER BANKER HELD Five Indictments Returned at Kokomo as Result of Closing. ftn Vnitfil Press KOKOMO. Ind., April 7.—Five indictments growing out of failure of the Farmers Trust and Savings bank here, have been returned by j the Howard county grand jury ! against Charles Price. former | cashier. Price is charged with grand larceny, making illegal loans, borrowing illegally and overdrawing a personal account, bri.-ging his responsibility for alleged peculations totaling $13,000. He vas held in default of SIO,OOO bond.

THE SON OF TARZAN

Shortly before sundown, a group of horsemen on the horizon was seen by a sentry. They came galloping over the now' golden sands directly toward the French Legion's little camp. They made no attempt to conceal themselves, but Captain Jacot, suspecting treachery, gave his men a few sharp commands. The party of Arabs halted a hundred yards away; all but one .who &de straight into the can£> and dismounted before Jacot,

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HEK BUDDIES

**T am Sheik Amor ben Kha tour,” he announced Captain Jacot eyed the newcomer, a tall, sour-locking man, narrowly. “Well?” he asked. The Arab came directly to the point. ‘Achmet ben Foudin, your prisoner, is my sister’s son. Deliver him to me and I will see that he behaves.’ Jacot shook his head. “That can not be. He is charged with many murders. If he is innocent, he will be released!" “And if he is not?” questioned the sheiff.

—By Williams

The Arab’s left hand had been hidden beneath his burmoose. Now he withdrew it, disclosing a large goatskin purse bulging and heavy with gold coins. He opened it and let a handful trickle into his right palm, then replaced them. All the time he was silent Jacot watched him closely. They were alone now. The sheik held the purse toward Jacot, stepped close and whispered meaningly: “Achmet ben Houdin, my sister's son, MIGHT manage to escape this night?”

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The French officer flushed deeply, then he went very white and with fists clenched took a half step toward the Arab. Suddenly he thought better of whatever impulse was moving him. "Sergeant!” he called. The noncommissioned officer hurried forward, saluting as his heels clicked together before his superior. “Take this black dog back to his people,’’ he ordered. "Ses that they leave at once, and Jhoot the first who attempts to return.”

APRIL 7, 1930

—By Ahem

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin