Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 284, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 April 1930 — Page 12

PAGE 12

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BEGIN HERE TODAY DORIS MATTHEWS. ladv's rrald. Is murdered '-’rrisv nisrht In * summerbon*' on tbe B< rkelry estate, bv b.ow trom hear? perfuirv- flask. alven MRS. GEOROF. BERKELEY by SEYMOUR CROSBY. enyaged to CLORINDA BERKELEY, whose scarf binds* the roek-welehted body when It >a taken from lake by DETECTIVE DUNDEE Suspicion first fans on Mr*. Bsrkeley. from whose rooms the**M. r< |££J|fsr hai been taken: then on DICK BERKELEY. lnfatua'ed with Doris; next on EUOENE ARNOLD her fiwnce: then on Clorlnda. who Is cleared bv JOHN \IAX WELL, former suitor, to whom she aya.n becomes nenßed. , _ .. .. An unfinished letter of Dor.* to her sister In London htftt suspicion to 9.j mour Crosbv llnldns: the ma.d s murder ■with the eulctde of PHYLLIS CROSBY. CAPTAIN™ JJTIMUW N* *" ¥t°t% Crosbv. whom he ■ T^rder 'eonhl* wife's death ar.d maid ' nvirrier con aiders the latter case .solved when hAR v?y JOHNSON, valet. !* G*sCO^eren SrsHfW* JSSZ AST S de?th of'phv'fu Cr”bv. fcffl-^ssrssr^a^ Dundee of cfcF BERKttCT r A who 0 WdV d ete V . n\ni l uf?crm7rUi>!v sprinkled everyone wUh -rfume from the murder •*£ Ole . retaliating, makes Rood rns atrsin • Dundee himself, then beys pindee to promise her not to *o off halfcocked and suspect lnnoeen- P* DI NOW r c.O m ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN ‘'II7’HAT a fiercely loyal little W thing she Is!” Dundee reflected after Giei had taken her leave, with surprising docility. But —loyal to—whom? I’d give a month's pay to know who It Is that adorable little pest is trying to shield. . . . Darned clever—her ‘case’ against me! Which reminds me that I must send that cablegram to Sir Edward Moresoy.” He raced down to the library, dictated the cablegram to the telegraph office, directed that it be charged to the police department, then called Captain Strawn. . ‘‘No. nothing yet.” the chief of the homicide squad answered disgustedly. ‘‘The earth seems to have opened and swallowed Johnson, but we’ll get him yet. . . . Having a good time?” he added, rather sarcastically. ‘‘Very amusing.” Dundee answered cryptically. On his way back to his third floor room he stopped to get two fresh sheets of carbon paper from George Berkeley’s desk. As he had expected, the wastebasket had been emptied. Probably by this time the multimillionaire's unfinished letter to his lawyer had been fed to the furnace, but it did not matter. The beautifully clear record upon the otherwise virginal sheet of carbon paper would be ample evidence of George Berkeley’s interest in a beauty shop for Doris Matthews—if such evidence were ever needed in a court of law. It was nearly 3:30 when the young detective began to transcribe his notes taken during the morning’s investigation. He was a rapid typist. Within half an hour he held in his hands the complete transcript of Abigail Berkeley’s story—that I amazing tissue of lies, truths and half-truths. And as he read what he had typed automatically he felt again that queer surge of excitement which had tingled his nerves two or three times while the woman had babbled and evaded and admitted. “Here.” he said aloud to the parrot, "is the key to the puzzle, if I could only put my clumsy fingers on it.” His eyes fell again upon the passage which most puzzled and intrigued him: Mrs. Berkeley: I—l told her to open anew bottle of perfume I'd bought in the city yesteday. and—and she said something impertinent— Q. Just what did she say. Mrs. Berkeley? A. I—l don't remember. You don't expect me to remember every tiny thing, do you? Well, it was just—just a word or two. like—Oh, yes! She said, “You use too much perfume, madame.” Os course I was furious at such impertinence, and I—l slapped her face! a a a “ A STRANGE tiling for a wellX\ trained maid to say to a mistress,” Dundee mused aloud. “The question is: Does Mrs. Berkeley use too much perfume? So much that a fastidious girl like Doris forgets her station and protests?” He wrinkled his forehead in an effort to remember. Had Mrs. Berkeley been wearing a disgusting amount of perfume when she greeted him the night before? He forced himself to reconstruct that scene with the sense of smell as well as those of sight and hearing. Mrs. Berkeley offering her hand, gushing at him—— “Good Lord!” he ejaculated so forcibly that Cap'n flapped his wings irritably and commanded: “Shut up. you old fool!” ‘•l've been a fool, but please heaven, the curse has been lifted!” Dundee exulted. “Perfume, Cap'n! Perfume! Did a poor, struggling detective ever find such a weird stumbling block in his path? "Doris gets soundly slapped on account of perfume! Gigi gets her face smacked—by the same hand!—on account of perfume! And it is with a flask of perfume that Doris Matthews is stunned or killed!” “Perfume!" Cap'n echoed tentatively. Then, exulting in the addi-

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tion to his vocabulary, the parrot turned rapidly about on his perch, croaking the word repeatedly. But Dundee was paying little attention to hi3 useful pet. He was remembering another scene in all its tiniest details. Again he saw Seymour Crosby bending, with courtly grace, above Mrs. Berkeley as he presented the costly gift. Again he heard Mrs. Berkeley’s squeal of delight. “Oh, you dear man!” as her plump fingers fastened ; grecdilv upon the crystal flask. And into his mental picture came, Gigi, skating across the floor, shrilling excitedly: "What is it?" Then that queer protest of hers: “Oh, no!” As if it were Just happening. Dundee saw that strange, significant side glance of Gigi's toward Mrs. Lambert, saw the child clap a restraining hand upon her own mouth. With his eyes tight, closed, Dundee again saw Gigi seize the flask j from her mother’s convulsive grasp saw the child dance madly about the room, wasting the precious scent prodigally, a a a DUNDEE sprang to his feet “Work to be done, Cap'n—and light at last!” he exulted. A hasty, glance at his wristwatch told fiim it was 4:05. And at 4 o'clock Mrs. Berkeley was to grant an interview to the most importunate of the gentlemen of the press. Delaying only long enough to lock his precious notes and the transcript of Mrs. Berkeley story in Dick's desk and to pocket the key. he sped downstairs. His knock upon Mrs. Berkeley’s sitting room door brought no response. Good! The reporters were being received in the drawing room, probably, the better to impress them with the Berkeley grandeur, Dundee told himself with a grin. He did r.ot tarry in the sitting room, where a cluttered desk gave mute evidence that the social secretary was more than earning her salary that day. And she was now without a doubt further earning that salary by being introduced to the reporters by her proud employer as “Dear Mrs. j Lambert— the Mrs. Van Renssalaer j Lambert of New York and Newport, 1 you know, who is now my social secretary.” He plunged through the little foyer and made straight for the , over-luxurious dressing table. Twin j orchid-shaded lamps glowed softly j in the room’s semi-twilight. And among the expensive clutter | of crystal and silver he found what j he was looking for—a squat, mod- j ernistic bottle of fine perfume. It was the only one visible, but to satisfy any possible doubt, he jerked open the narrow deep drawers and searched them thoroughly. Still mindful of Gigi's admonition not to “go off half-cocked,” Dundee raced to the bathroom and searched its dressing table and medicine chest. There was no other bottle of perfume! And yet the flask he held in his hand was only two-third full! Before admitting the inevitable! conclusion, nowever, Dundee took i one more precaution. On the sit- | ting room telephone, which Mrs.; Berkeley had said was a private, unlisted wire, he called the number of the department store whose name, on a tiny, gold-embossed' label, was affixed to the bottom of the perfume bottle. “The manager, please,” he re-, quested in a low voice. “Hamilton police department calling. . . . Tire manager? . . . Oh, yes, Mr. Franklin. . . . Thank you. This is Detective Dundee speaking. Will you kindly look at the charge account of Mrs. George Berkeley, and get me the following information: First, what was the brand of perfume bought by Mrs. Berkeley yesterday; second, the number of bottles of perfume bought by Mrs. Berkeley during September. . Certainly, Mr. Franklin! The information is of real importance to the police department. . ..Thank you!” e a a THE wait was a considerable one, but when the information came at last, it did not surprise Detective Dundee, startling though as it was. When he had rung up the receiver he returned the modernistic bottle of perfume to Mrs. Berkeley’s dressing table, saying very softly: “Indeed, you do use entirely too much perfume, my dear Abbie!” Then he did a strange thing. He went to Mrs. Brekeley's commodious clothes closet, filled with enough frocks, cloaks, coats and ensembles to stock a small shop for “The Stylish Stout.” And he lifted each one of those gaudy, expensive garments to his nose and sniffed it. Oddly enough, the almost complete absence of perfume upon all of them, except the evening dress which Gigi had anointed with Fleur d’Amour, did not puzzle or disappoint him. “Where do you keep your ’empties’. Abbie?” he inquired cheerfully of the room's absent mistress. But he answered the question for himself, after a quick but very thorough search of every hiding place the big closet afforded.

“You have the ingenuity of a squirrel, Abbie,” Dundee laughed soundlessly, as he drew the fifth and last bottle from the tissue paper stuffing of a smart French hat. “Wonder where the other two are ....But five are enough—oh, more than enough.” Having deposited the five emptyperfume bottles in a discarded shoe box, found on the top shelf of the closet. Dundee was about to return to his interrupted typing with his strange And under his arm when he caught a glimpse of Gigi’s brief yellow skirt disappearing into her own room down the hall. The child must help him now, he decided: for at last he knew—or believed he knew—whom she was shielding. Poor Gigi! He felt like a cad when he thought of the questions he must ask her, but—duty was duty. And murder had been committed. “Oh!” Gigi gasped, then her little brown face grew vividly joyous. “You've come to call on me? Another advantage of being only 15! I can receive a gentleman in my bedroom. I hope you like it. Abbie laughed at it until an interior decorator photographed it and wrote a grand piece for a magazine about it. Every single, solitary thing in it is real Early American. The magazine lady said the whole room ought to be presented to the Metropolitan Museum ” Dundee stared about him In amazement. “It’s perfect, Gigi! I can't believe my eyes! Where on earth did you get these things?” “You do like it!” she crowed, clapping her hands ecstatically. “I lifted this room right out of my ereat-grandmother Berkeley's old home in Vermont. She didn’t die till I was 12, and I made DadWhy, you’re not listening!” she reproached him. “What’s—wrong?” “Gigi,” he began, very gently, “how long has your mother been a —perfume addict?” (To Be Continued)

500.000 KODAKS EASTMAN'S SIFT Camera Millionaire to Play Santa to Children. Bu Vnitrd Pro#* , ROCHESTER, N. Y„ April 3. George Eastman, philanthropist and head of the Eastman Kodak Company, is having a birthday party next month, but instead of receiving presents he will give away more than 500,000 cameras to children in the United States and Canada. In collaboration with Mrs. Calvin Coolidge, Eastman has arranged a gigantic “birthday party” and he hopes to interest “hundreds of thousands more children in picture taking” by giving them cameras. Any “guest” who can show his twelfth birthday comes this year will be entitled to one of Eastman’s gifts. Eastman, a bachelor, has chosen this unique method of celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of his first photographic patent, which was granted April 13, 1880, when he was 25.

Battrees T’day! Mayor Balks at Catching Role; Wants to Pitch to Governor.

“T want to be pitcher,” Mayor X Reginald Sullivan has informed the Chamber of Commerce athletic committee which is arranging the opening game of the American Association baseball season here. According to precedent and custom. the Governor pitches the first ball of the season and the mayor catches—or tries to catch it. Invited to participate in the activities, Mayor Sullivan wrote the committee; “I can not catch a ball In a bushel basket. Wabash college never was so hot on baseball, but Purdue stars in it. Let the Governor catch and let me pitch. - Huber S. Riley, chairman of the Chamber of Commerce athletic committee, put the proposal up to Governor Harry Leslie today. The Governor has not notified the committee whether he will accept the behind-the-bat assignment.

THE SON OF TARZAN

The sheik drew himself up to his full height. His eyes blared with hate. He raised the bag of gold level with Jacot's face and said: “You will nay more than this for the life of my sister's son! As much again for the name you have called me and 3 hundredfold of sorrow besides!" "Get out oi here.’’ growled Captain Armanc Jacot. “before I kick you out! - ’ With that he dismissed the sheik and his threefold threat from his mind.

THE IN DIAIn AEOUb TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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The sheik’s nephew and his accomplice were duly tried, convicted, and met their fate according to thej laws of France. A month later. 7-year-old Jeanne Jacot mysteriously disappeared. Neither the wealth of her parents nor the powerful resources of the great republic her father served were able to wrest the secret of her whereabouts from the inscrutable desert that had swallowed the lovely little girl and her abductor. -

—By Williams

A reward of such enormous proportions was offered that many adventurers were attracted to the hunt. Most of them perished beneath the African sun upon the silent sands of the Sanara without finding even a trace of the stolen child.. Two Swedes, Jenssen and Malbihn, after three years of following false clews, gave up the search far to the south of the Sahara and turned their attention to the more apfitable business of ivory poaching.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Rice Burroughs

Throughout the whole interior of Arrica this pair became known for relentless cruelty and greed. The natives feared and hated* them. European governments sought their capture in vain. In company with their fierce band of perhaps a himared renegade Arabs and Negro slaves, the cut throats made swift and sudden raids, slaughtering elephants, plundering native villages, and leaving in their path brutal crimes and wanton depredations.

-AbKIL 8, 1980

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin.