Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

se . 7 , —! - . ° HOW MANY CARDS? The room on the other side of the land- ing was fitted out with a higher grade of furniture than the other two, worn but comparatively luxurious, as though the ar- ticles might have beeh relegated here from below stairs. An examination of the tailor’s tabs on the suits which filled the clothes closet revealed that they had evi- dently been discarded from Creveling’s own wardrobe. “‘ His valet, probably,” McCarty .hazard- ed. ‘ The butler and one of the women servants must have occupied those rooms across the hall.’’ . ‘‘ That’s obvious,” retorted the inspector. ‘‘ They may have been here last night and “made a getaway when the murder was done, but if we can find the housekeeper’s books we can get a line on who they were. The other rooms on this floor don’t look as though they had been entered for weeks—”’ ‘““What’s that?” McCarty suddenly raised a thick, stubby finger in warning and cocked his ear. SS ‘““ What?” the other demanded in curt tones. “YT thought I heard a sound down- stairs, sir. Not all the way, but on the first sleeping floor.” “One of those flatfeet from borough headquafters, I suppose,” the inspector grunted. “I didn’t hear anything; you must be getting nerves, Mac! That big room at the back may have been the house- keeper’s. Let’s have a look at it, any- way.” - Obediently McCarty followed his supe- rior down the hall, but as he did so he cast a swift glance at the stairs. Did he or did he not see a flitting shadow pause immov- able just above the edge of the top step and then disappear? Without comment he entered the room at the rear. The furniture was of walnut in severe lines, the rugs dark and spotless and the few pictures which broke the som- ber monotony of the gray wall-paper were of sedate, classic subjects. A businesslike-looking desk stood near. the window, but it was quite bare, and no intimate touches of human occupancy were visible save a tea-wagon covered with dusty porcelains drawn up beside the cold hearth. 297 “The housekeeper’s room all right, I guess,” remarked the inspector, as one after another he tried the drawers of the desk. ‘‘ These are all locked and I don’t see any keys about. It is pretty obvious that nobody has been in here, either, for some time. The whole thing looks funny to me, Mac. Of course, the three servants whose rooms have been occupied at least lately may have been left as caretakers while the family were away, but why did Creveling come back here just to give that little supper and get himself murdered after it—what in the world are you doing now?” For McCarty was lifting the desk care- fully, first from one side and then from the other, and shaking it tentatively when he had raised an end from the floor. “Well,” he replied at length. ‘ There would be little object, wouldn’t there, sir, in locking an empty desk? Of course, we could force the drawers, but I’m thinking it’s small help you’d get from what’s in here in solving the mystery down-stairs. The locks are rusty, too, as you’ll notice. Did you try the dressing-table?” “Yes. The drawers are unlocked and empty. There’s nothing more here, Mac: let us go down now and see what the rest have discovered.” . But it was evident that no discovery of | any significance had been made. _ Sam and Pete, the two detectives from the borough headquarters, together with the policeman Clancy, were standing in a little group near the body of the dead man in the study and the faces of all three bore an expression of stupefaction. ‘“‘ Anything new turned up?” asked In- spector Druet crisply. ‘No, sir. The kitchens are all in order though it’s evident that they have been used lately but not for the supper that we found spread out in the next room. “Pete, the elder of the two detectives, re- plied: “ That,came from Mazzarini’s, the caterer; his boxes are down in the pantry now.” | . ‘“‘ There’s food and ice left in the refrig- erators,” the other detective, Sam, volun- teered. ‘“‘ But it’s not the kind of stuff the likes of him would eat.” He pointed with a grimy thumb at the ( { JOO driginal froma Aa Rn eee GOALIE a) S C@ THE ASTI