THE SOLUTIONS OF RADFORD SHONE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8999, 9 December 1907, Page 2

THE SOLUTIONS OF RADFORD SHONE.

BEING NARRATIVES BY OFFICERS OF THE CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION DEPARTMENT, AND OF THE PROVINCIAL POLICE, IN RESPECT OF O i ALINGS WITH THE EMINENT EXPERT, MR RADFORD SHONE.

Communicated to and kditicd by HDASIOM H1.8J,. [Published By Special Aukangement.] [All Eights Reserved.]

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. The Neil's house was at the end of the village, a pretty, ivy-clad cottage residence set back from the road under shady trees. It is not to be supposed that this was my first interview with two such important factois in the cane, and there was therefore ho need for introductions when I was shown into their cosy smoking-room. Mr Neil, senior, a spare elderly man with scanty irongrey hair, uttered a harsh laugh on my entrance. "Got your warrant, Inspector?" he blurted out, with a curious glance at his son.

Everard Neil, who had been supporting his well-knit inches against the mantelpiece, flushed angrily and straightened himself. "No, gentlemen; I have got no warrant—yet," I said significantly. "But I am promised a complete case this evening, in which event I shall have to apply for one. Mr John Chetwynd has placed at my disposal the valuable assistance of Mr Radford Shone."

The two exchanged glances. "That accounts for it," I heard the elder man mutter under his breath and I guessed to what he referred. I was already aware that he had been "cut." by Mr Chetwynd and other members at the club-house on the links since my encounter with Shone in the morning.

"Well, what do you want of us, Inspector," said Everard, taking a step forward. "My father, as you see, has bsen upset by—by something that has occurred; and, to tell you the truth, I am npt in the mood to be civil to you. But if we can supplement our evidence we shall be glad, to do so. Without incriminating ourselves—having it taken down and used against us," he added, with a jerky laugh that was singularly like the elder man's.

"We have not reached that stage," J. answered drily. "The object of my call is to ask if Mr Radford Shone, has been here. I thought it likely." "No: and he had better keep away if he values his hide," growled Neil the elder, taking upon himself to reply; and I noticed that he glaced intuitively at a range of hunting crops on the wall. As a player myself, I recognised the temper of the futile golfer in Mr Wilson Neil's lack of restraint. And lack of restraint is sometimes useful to men of my profession—when the lack is on the other side.

Young Everard checked his irate sire with a click of the tongue and a frown that did not entirely hide the affection behind it.

"Look here, dad," he said hurriedly, "you and I had better keep a stiff upper lip. Then he turned to me and added: "Is your colleague Radford Shone an adepr at disguise?

"I understand that he is up to most of the tricks of the game," I said. "But why do you ask 9 "

"Because a fellow called here half an hour ago and represented that he was a new professional up at the golf links; said he had come to nee if we wanted any clubs repaired. We gave him a couple to mend." "Thank you," I replied. "That was all I wanted to learn." And I made as though to depart. ( Everard Neil accompanied ' me to the door and showed me out, all stiffly starched till we goc to the porch. Then he suddenly thrust out his hand, and a faint smile creased his handsome worried face.

"Good-bye, Mr Peters," he said. "Or perhaps I ough 4 ; to say au revoir, as you expect to return fortified with a warran 1 ;."

But I did not take his hand, it being no part of my duty to be familiar with a young gentleman who was like to loom so largely in the criminal annals of the country. I only bade him a civil good-day, and took myself off to the outskirts of the village.

Having passed the intervening hours as profitably as I knew how, I repaired to the King's Arms punctually at eight o'clock. Mr Radford Shone had secured the use of the one private sitting-room that the inn boasted, and there I found him, pacing to and fro while '->e held forth to his friend Martin. He broke off on my entrance, and folding his arrns across his chest, surveyed me slowly from head to foot.

"I don't know what you call the pay they give you, Inspector Peters —whether salary, or stipend, or wages—but when you go to draw it next, I hope that you will do so with a becoming sense of modesty. I have found your murderer for you. But sit down, man. Martin, set a chair for the officer. He must be tired after his superhuman exertions." The great expert's stout henchman blundered forward with a chair, but I waved it aside.

"I cannot stay long," I '.aid. "If your labours are over, Mr Shone, there remains much for me to do. May I ask you to favour me with your results as speedily as possible." Shone seated himself on the table, oneLKinny leg curled up and the other . .ringing.

"That is the great fault of the offieal detective," he said judicially. "Your artistic sense, if you ever had any, is hluntsd. Your thoughts are all for the gross materialism of the handcuffs, without heeding how to on the right wrists. Well,Mr Peters, you will bo interest e to hear u.. t my little four-footed frigid was right, and that I was right in trusting to its guidance. My insight has even astounded Martin here, accustomed as he is to the success of our little excursions." '■Marvellous, and yst so simple," Mr Martin assented in his throaty tones. s "When you know how it's done," his mentor corrected him. "JSiow, Inspsctor you are dying to know the

name of your prospective prisoners,' Shone continued, rolling his groa'. eyeballs at me. "You can apply for i; warrant against Wilson Neil and hi 1 son Everard as soon as you like —th:' former as the actual murderer, and the latter as an accessory both before and after the act." "And the grounds of the charge?" 1 said, producing my notebook. Mr Radford Shone saw fit to laugh a little. "You take it so calmly," he said, "that it is plain that you, too, had these men in your mind —with this difference, that you failed to bring the crime home to them. We started, 1 expect, my dear Inspector, from the same thesis that these men were ill friends with Colonel Chetwynd, and that they would materially gain by the marriage of the younger Neil to Mona Chetwynd—a union against which the Colonel had set his face. You got no further than that. I did. From the state of the soil in the mole-hills I calculated to a nicety that the mole must have been at work under the green at the time of the murder. At my bidding our excellent Martin opened up the run, and I saw tha* at a certain point the animal had tried frantically to burrow into the earth of its run at right angles." "You're getting it now, Inspector," Martin giggled, only to subside under a reproving scowl from the great man.

"From that," Shone proceeded, "I deducted that the mole had been frightened by the thundering footsteps of the Neils overhead, as they fled from the scene of their crime, so as to get forward before the foursome of ladies appeared, through the gaps in the bunker. It was all an open book to me. The 'sign,' hs the American trappers call it, was clear. I had definite cause to take drastic measures, and I took them promptly. You gentlemen of the official force do not often use disguises, I think?" he broke off. "We seldom have occasion to," I answered.

"Ah, well!" he went on with asigh, "I have. This afternoon I went to Neil's house, got up as a golf professional attached to the links, and asked if they had any clubs that required mending. I fooled the pair of scoundrels to the top of their bent. They handed me two clubs, on one of which, belonging to the elder man, is a distinct smear of blood with a hair attaching to it which I have since verified as Colonel Chetwynd's. Martin, surely your're not ' asleep. Give Inspector Peters that cleek." The fat young man stumbled up from his chair, and reverently lifting the damning piece of evidence from the corner by the fireplace, laid i*, in my hands.

"there's your case," said Radford Shone with an air of finality, swinging his long legs from his perch on the table and lounging over to point with his long finger at the hair on the golf club. "Yes," I replied, examining it with interest. "It is useful, but — not altogether material, Mr Shone." "What do you mean?" he gasped, glaring at me with the awe of a high priest confronted with an act of sacrilege. "I mean," I answered with some relish, "that this will help—only help, mind you—to hang the man whom I arrested an hour ago for this little job. Not Mr Wilson Neil, or yet Mr Everard Neil; and my prisoner has simplified matters by confessing as soon as I had my grip on him. The 'Yard' lacks brilliancy, perhaps, Mr Shone, but we get there by plodding—sometimes. It was Raffles, the caddie, who killed the Colonel."

And amid a sitance broken only by the panting of Martin I went on to inform them that Colonel Chetwynd had not been attacked on the green at all, but in the larch grove flanking it. 1 had found traces of this on the first day of my investigation, and trampled undergrowth had picked up a button which had tended to incriminate the caddie. I had been compel'ed, however, to delay arresting the man till I had traced to his possession the waistcoat from which the button had been wrenched in the struggle. (To be continued.)