Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

544 “What fatal accident could have befallen him in his own home?” Her long, slim, white hands dismissed the possibility with a gesture of finality. ‘“‘ My husband was in perfect health, and there can be no question of suicide. I demand to be told at once how he died.” “He was found in the study or library which opens just beside the staircase there, shot in the heart. The weapon, an army .44, was within reach of his hand, and there was no living person in the house except thase who discovered the body,” Inspector Druet replied gravely. “ Mrs. Creveling, when was it that you last saw your hus- band alive?” - “Last Sunday. He came down to Broad- mead over the week-end.”’ She broke off and asked quickly: ‘“‘ Who found my hus- band? Was it Rollins or Sarah?. Where are they?” Frank Hill, the valet, interposed. ““Mr. Creveling himself gave them a holiday yesterday, Mrs. Creveling,” he said. She darted a swift glance at him and nodded slowly, but, save for a slight tighten- ing of her lips, her expression did not change for a moment. Then a quick _ thought came to her. “ The who—”’ Her uncle divined the question before it was uttered. “We don’t know. I was summoned, too, by telephone some little time before: you were, but it was a man who caHed me, a stranger. I don’t remember ever having heard his voice until early this morning.” He spoke hastily, almost furtively. “‘Eugene entertained some one at supper here late last night, Myra, some client of ours probably—”’ ‘Did you know that he intended doing so, Mrs. Creveling?”’ interrupted the in- spector bruskly. ‘“‘ Do you know whg the Person was?” She shook her head. ‘“No,” she responded composedly. “I only know that if my husband was shot he was murdered. I do not wish to act in opposition to the authorities, but it is per- mitted, I believe, that in a case like this I may engage private investigators to co- operate with them?” ‘ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, The inspector bowed, but George Alex- " ander started forward. Such a step would be most— “ Myra! most unnecessary. I am sure that the authorities are perfectly capable of handling this terrible situation, and that they know best. I myself thought at first that it could not have been a case of suicide, but the pistol lay within touch of his fingers. I—I saw it myself. If you drag in blunder- ing private detectives you will subject us to needless and distressing notoriety. This shock has dazed you, you are not quite yourself, my dear. If you will take time to think the matter over—” “I have thought.” Mrs. Creveling favored her uncle with a long inscrutable look, and before it he seemed all at once to shrivel and the lines of age which grooming and care had kept smooth stood out in his pallid face. “I knew Eugene better than any one in the world, and I know that the suggestion of suicide is absolutely untena- ble. I’m going to find out who killed him, Uncle George, if I move heaven and earth to do so. I have heard of a man, a scien- tific criminologist, I believe he is called, who is quite famous in his way. I want him if he is to be had. His name is Wade Terhune.” A swift glance passed between the in-.- spector and McCarty, and the former shrugged with a slight smile. McCarty grinned in answer. So once more Terhune, with his little scientific recording instru- ments and his trained analytical mind, was to be pitted against the routine methods of the force and McCarty’s own efforts. It seemed a stroke of fate that the ex-rounds- man, the inspector, and the crime-savant should be again upon the trail, and the former looked forward with grim humor to Terhune’s appearance on the scene of the tragedy. “Mr. Terhune has often been called in by the department, and my special deputy here and I have worked personally with him on more than one case.” Inspector Druet turned to Mrs. Creveling, who still pre- served her stoic calm. ‘I have the tele- phone number here of his private, unlisted wire; shall I have him gammoned for you?” ‘‘ Myra!” Mr. Alexander put in a final 2A Original froma : C(0)| re GIOOkK A CO