MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

Wairarapa Times-Age, 8 November 1938, Page 10

MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

LESLIE CARGILL

(Author of “Death Goes by Bus.”)

CHAPTER I.—(Continued). “Certainly. When the bullet hit the General it must almost have lost its power of flight; otherwise the bullet would have gone deeper. So it can be taken for granted that very careful aim was made.” The Assistant Commissioner groaned. “Isn’t that nice,” he muttered. “Somebody sights a revolver in full view of a few thousand people and they take no notice of the incident.”

“Only it wasn’t a revolver, sir.” “Well, that’s something worth knowing. What was it?” “Automatic pistol, sir. American make. No mistake about that.” “One of . those sub-machine guns favoured by gangsters?” “This weapon wasn’t so elaborate, sir, and wouldn’t take up much room. Submachine guns are a trifle cumbersome.” “Right! Now, if you haven’t any facts to support the place of origin of the firing perhaps you’ve a theory.”

“Half a dozen. The most likely one is that the gunman was hidden at an upper window, or even on a convenient roof. That would permit him to remain out of sight and take careful aim without being disturbed. We’re checking up, so far as possible, the occupants of rooms overlooking the route.” “Good! Keep in touch with me.” Superintendent Moyne nodded and went off. Still grumbling softly to himself, Captain Caythers made his way to the presence of the Commissioner, chiefly to find out what was being done to keep the story from becoming public property.

“I know it is an incredible situation,” the great man agreed. “Ordinarily 4 couldn’t be done. In this case, however, we have extraordinary powers.” “Suppose the press get wind of it?”

“Then we should have to take them into our confidence, and request suppression. "Fortunately the British newspapers have a fine public spirit. Leave any such string pulling to me, and to those who can speak with even more authority.”

“There’s another point,” Caythers observed. “Secrecy isn’t always helpful. Somebody might be able to throw light on the occurrence if it was known there had been something untoward.” “That, also has been taken into consideration. Eventually the facts may have to come out. Meanwhile we are asked to keep the thing secret, or not to broadcast it, rather. Does that satisfy you?” “I suppose so,” Caythers said, and went off in anything but a satisfied manner. “Murder in full public view, scores of people in the secret and not in line in the newspapers,” he thought disgustedly. “What are things coming to?”

Ten minutes later he was saying .aloud the same thing to Major Mosson. “And what’s brought you into it?” he wound up. “I though you executive chaps remained in icy aloofness in the depths of this confounded hive.” The major smiled tolerantly. “We condescend to mix with our fellows at times,” he replied. “As a matter of fact, I've come to offer my assistance?’

“Wonders will never cease. Don't say you intend to indulge in a little sleuthing?” “Perhaps, if it’s allowed. Of course I don’t want to poach on your, preserves.”’

“Set your mind at rest. This game is open to everybody. You see it happens to be a strictly confidential matter which means that the whole place is buzzing with it. Seriously, though, I’d be glad to accept any help. So unburden yourself right away.” “Well, you see, I used to know Parminster pretty well. We were together when he was a comparatively young man, and I served under him for more years than I care to think about.” The assistant commissioner dropped his bantering mood. “That sounds interesting,” he observed. “Suppose you begin by giving me a sort of character reading. Up to now there doesn’t seem to be any motive.” “On the contrary. The General must have had as many enemies as any man in the country. There were times when I’d cheerfully have killed him and expected thanks for doing so.” “Whew! Is this a confession?” Major Mosson chuckled. “Unfortunately not. You’ll have to cast a wider net —much wider. Parminster was admired by all his men as a fine soldier —brave as a lion, and never spared himself—but personally he was cordially detested.” “I see. Keen disciplinarian, eh?” “That isn’t enough to make an officer unpopular. It was his lack of sympathy and understanding that made him so queerly inhuman. There wasn’t an atom of sentiment in his whole make-up and as he got older he became harder. Without a qualm he’d break his closest friend.” “So he had friends?”

“Plenty for a time. You must have met the sort of man who seems to attract people like a magnet. Parminster was one. They’re rare, especially the type that are known to be unscrupulous. Perhaps that’s the wrong word. He was just stone-hard. And ambitious. Good lord, he rose step by step on the trampled bodies of his erstwhile friends.” “Metaphorically, of course, Major?” “Of course. But they really were drained dry. He used them, tnen chucked them aside. The odd thing was that they rarely squealed. As for the rank and file, they’d follow him through thick and thin, hating him like poison all the while.” “Rather a complex character!” “Not really, when you’d taken the measure of the man. Anyhow I seemed to understand his mentality. No doubt that accounted for him playing me fewer dirty tricks than usual. “So you didn’t escape scot free? “Not by a long chalk. Goodness knows what I might have risen to, if Parminster hadn’t been in the Caythers scratched his head. What I can’t fathom.” he remarked, “is your desire to come into this case. y rights you ought to be quite pleased the,old chap got what was obvious.y coming to him.” . “That’s the strangest thing, Major Mosson answered with deliberate slowness. “We’d all have liked to scrag him, but not one of us would have lifted a finger against him, or allowed anybody else to. Does that make sense to you?”

“Not the slightest, though I’ve come to the conclusion that you may be useful. Also it explains something the ambulance man said.” “What ambulance man?”

“Waters. He was on the scene and rendered first-aid. In conversation with Inspector Stoddart he mentioned that he thought somebody would get the beast some day. I think those were the words.”

“Probably served under General Parminster.” “Exactly! During the war.” “I’d like a chat with him.” “By all means. Home’s at Tooting — 23, Mitchley Road. Talk to anybody you like. This is all strictly secret and . . Caythers was reverting to his old grouse. With a friendly nod and a grin the Major made his escape. z Without wasting any time, he went to Tooting, where, among a maze of streets that looked exactly similar, he found Mitchley Road. Number 23 was a neatly kept suburban villa with a distinctive golden laurel hedge clipped to a shingled nicety. A riot of tulips and wallflowers made a colourful display. The place spoke of pride in ownership, and some measure of orderliness. Not, the Major concluded, likely to be the home of a man of violent tendencies.

“However,” he thought, halting at the gate, “one never can tell.” In the annals of Scotland Yard some strange happenings had been reported from just such disarmingly pleasant abodes. Waters was at home, a fact explained by his being a nightwatchman at a business etablishment in the city. “I’m an army pensioner, too,” he confided. “Ah,” said Major Mosson, glad that the right note had been struck at the beginning of the interview. “A.longservice man, I suppose?” “No, sir, not as it happens. Although I was in the regulars when the war broke out, I’d only put in a few years. The pension is for disability. Not that the old wound worries me overmuch, and fifteen shilling a week isn’t a bad compensation. But you haven’t come to chat about the service Major!”

“Not exactly, though it happens to help. You knew General Parminster?” “Served under him in France.” “Not pre-war?”

Waters shook his head. “From what I saw of him it was a lucky escape.”

“Which means he wasn’t very popular, eh? Isn’t it rather surprising that anyone in his position should have been close enough in contact with the troops to get a bad name?” “Well, he wasn’t a general in those days. Promotion came later. He was a major when I first knew him, and a real snorter. Always raising Hell, and making things as uncomfortable as possible.”

“So that is why you told the Inspec-. tor it was no surprise that somebody would get the beast one day?” “That was a foolish remark, sir. Englishmen don’t go and spit their spite on those they don’t like. When I came to the conclusion the General had been shot at it came to my mind that one of the chaps might have been a bit hot-headed and — and —” “Resorted to murder, Waters. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” “Yes, I suppose so. He’s dead, then?”

Major Mosson wasn’t sure whether this question ought to be evaded. Then he decided that evasiveness would be foolish, “You’ve got you wits about you,” he replied. “So I’ll be quite candid. General Parminster is dead. Probably the news doesn’t surprise you.” “Not particularly. After years of ambulance work I can generally recognise a goner. Strange, though the papers haven’t said anything about it.” “We’re keeping it dark for the time being. Naturally .a lot of people do know, but the circle is being kept, er, select.” “I understand. It wouldn’t do to start a scare with the country full of important visitors and nerves on edge for various reasons. They told me to keep my mouth shut and I’ve obeyed orders.”

“Wise man. And you acted with discretion all the way through. That covering up of the bloodstain, for instance, showed you realised the necessity of avoiding a panic.” “That’s right, sir.”

“On the other hand,” said the Major, so softly that Waters had to listen attentively, “it might have been construed as rather suspicious.” “Good heavens, you don’t imagine I had any hand in the affair?” “Please don’t jump to conclusions. Let us consider the facts carefully. First of all you were on the spot. Secondly, your official capacity gave you freedom of movement. Thirdly, I understand you were responsible for getting the wounded man moved away extremely quickly, which might suggest playing for time. Fourthly, the blanket. All that means the authorities couldn’t begin investigating until the trail was cold.” “You’re accusing me of . . .”

“Nothing of the kind, merely inventing another side of the story. No.” He inspected the object of the inquisition keenly. “I don’ think that was the way of it. You’d have acted differently during this interview if it had been.” “There’s something else important, sir. I wasn’t behind the General when lie staggered, and there is one witness to that.” “Don’t bother about him, Waters. Nor about the cold trail. Keeping it quiet was the lesser of two evils. “But this witness, Major. He . .” “Save him for any of my colleagues who come round asking awkward questions.” “He was also an old army comrade of mine,” Waters said, determined to finish his say. “Before the procession came in sight we’d been chinwagging and he told me he’d noticed Marley in the crowd.” “Afraid that doesn’t convey anything to me.” . “There’s this much about it, sir. Malley was a mad with a grievance. If anyone had cause to hate the old General, he had.” “Tell me about it.” “When I first knew Marley he was batman to Major Parminster, as he then was. The job wasn’t what you’d call rushy Many a time there were things thrown at the officer’s servant, and the language he had to put up wi was really shocking. Youd think a

man with all that being done to him would have asked to go back to company duty. But I’ve told you how we’d stock to him through thick and thin. I suppose that’s one of the qualities of a born leader of men. Why, I've followed the Major over the top when he was as cool as if it was a church parade. Never turned a hair in the hottest spots.” “You were talking about Marley,” Major Mosson gently remind the now enthusiastic ex-soldier. “Sorry, sir. To make it brief, the batman turned on his officer one day and there was a devil of a rumpus. That could have meant a court martial, but there wasn’t one, then. When Marley was clinked it was for stealing a lot of money. I can’t remember how much, but they put him in prison, and also dismissed him from the service. He always swore the notes —marked ones too —were planted in his kit.” “Sounds a bit tall, Waters.” “So it does, sir. But most of us believed he was right. Else why should he have been kept on as batman all that time? You don’t like to say such things about anyone in the position of Sir Vincent Parminster, but I’m repeating what the men thought and what Marley was thoroughly convinced about.” (To be Continued.)