EBONY TORSO

Wairarapa Times-Age, 25 August 1939, Page 10

EBONY TORSO

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT

(By

JOHN C. WOODIWISS.)

CHAPTER 111. (Continued). The officers 1 had rubber soled boots and leaving the shelter of their doorway, walked quickly towards the point where their quarry had disappeared: but when they reached the street corner there was not a sign of any living creature. Where the deuce nas he gone to?” whispered the Inspector. “He can’t have got far.” “That he cannot.” agreed the Irishman in the same low, mystified tone. “Ah, I have it! There’s a little lane in between the houses, he must be there. “Yes,” replied Carlingford excitedly. “Come on, and keep your lamp handy.” Like two shadows the policemen tiptoed towards the entrance of the lane and peered round the corner into the inky blackness. Presently, with almost alarming' suddenness, came tne sound of a match being struck, and, as it flared up. they could see the man clearly as he benl forward, shielding the flame with his left hand, and examining the path as if looking for something. “What’s his game?” inquired the Inspector, so softly that his voice scarcely reached his subordinate. “Looks as if he was diggin’ up the path,” returned O’Mara. “Seems to be gettin’ up soil.” “Queer,” muttered Carlingford.

The rnan had his back to the officers, but they could see his outline clearly against the flickering light. “Goin’ to question him?” whispered the Sergeant. “Yes. Careful!”

As the Inspector uttered the warning the light wobbled and went out, and they stood listening in dai’kness until the man struck a second match.

"What the deuce is he doing?” whispered Carlingford. “I thought he might have lost something, but it’s not that.”

His voice must have reached the ears of the mysterious man. for he suddenly straightened up into a listening attitude and blew out the light. Sergeant O’Mara’s nerves began to pringle with the primitive instinct of the hunter as he and his superior crouched back into the shadow of the wall and waited to pounce on their victim. Nearer came the slow footsteps and, almost before they had time to realise his presence, the dark figure of their man emerged from the lane. The Inspector took a quick step forward and gripped him by the coat sleeve:

“Excuse me, I want a word with you!" he snapped, as Sergeant O’Mara pressed over the switch of his lamp. Their quarry swung round, and as he did so the light flashed on something in his hand. In a second the Sergeant had grabbed his wrist and snatched away a revolver. "Bit too smart for ye, laddie," he remarked firmly. “’Tis no use to struggle, we’re police officers.

The man ceased his efforts to escape as he heard the caution, and began to chuckle.

His amusement offended the Inspector's dignity. “You’ll find it’s no laughing matter to be creeping about armed at night." he said, panting from the exertion of the capture. "Who are you?” “Well, as a matter of fact, I'm the Chief Commissioner. Inspector,” replied the prisoner. “Sorry I scared you.”

The shock reduced both officers to horrified inaction until the Sergeant at last regained his presence of mind and focussed the beam from his lamp on to. the other's face. One look was sufficient. The long, cadaverous face, with its mischievous blue eyes and the famous monocle was too well known to be mistaken for a moment, and the crestfallen officers promptly released hhn. looking remarkably small. "I'm very sorry, I'm sure, sir,’’ 1 stuttered the Inspector, as Sir Hallard Costigan recovered his pistol from the Sergeant and replaced it in his pocket. “You quite took us in. sir. We imagined you were acting suspiciously. . .” “You were quite right Inspector, I was, very suspiciously,” chuckled the Commissioner, adjusting his monocle more firmly. "And the joke of it is, I thought you were a brace of crooks — hence the gun!"

"If you'd only let us know you'd De down this way, sir. we'd have been prepared for you," replied Carlingford, with more confidence as he saw the Chief was not in a vengeful mood.

“I wanted to take a look at the district more or less incognito —it’s a little fad of mine, as you probably know, Inspector," replied Sir Hallard. "By Gad! you've got a strong paw, my man. What's your name?” "Sergeant O'Mara. Sorr,” answered that officer smartly. “I hope I didn't hourtt you. Sorr."

"I'm afraid your hopes are blighted,' chuckled the Commissioner. “I'll have •a bruise on my wrist, for a week to come."

“Indeed, and I'm sorry to hear it. Son-." commented the Sergeant in a penitent tone. “There's a tough lot round here. Sorr, and I daren’t risk bein’ too gentle when I saw yer gun." "You were quite in order. Sergeant. It served me right for creeping about in this suspicious manner at night,” Sir Mallard assured him. “Glad to see the men in your division are so efficient. Inspector.” Carlingford thrilled with pride al this commendation. "We’re on the alert because of this extraordinary creature that’s been scaring people in this neighbourhood, sir," he said. “I've got over fifty men posted at various points in the district on the chance that something else may occur. That story about the ‘Ebony Torso’ and the mysterious footmark has got round the district, and people are inclined to imagine tilings—especially women and children. "Quite so,” agreed the Commissioner taking out his pipe and tobacco pouch

and filling up thoughtfully. “I expect you wondered what the deuce I was doing in that lane just now?” ‘■Well, we thought your behaviour a little —er —suspicious, especially in view of this scare, sir. Carlingford admitted.

"I was hoping to get a sight of this mysterious animal, or whatever the thing is.” the Chief assured him. "I came down here quite alone because I felt that several people moving about might scare it off. don’t ye know. I suppose you haven’t seen anything of Inspector Hopton'? ’ inquired Sir Hallard, ignoring the offer and lighting up. “Not since this afternoon,” replied Carlingford unenthusiastically. “I expect he's busy somewhere else.” “You can be pretty sure of that.” chuckled the Commissioner confidently. “I'll bet twenty to one he's not letting the grass grow under his feet wherever he happens to be be." "I shouldn't wonder.” the Divisional Inspector agreed sarcastically. "I expect he's beating up the local ironmongers after some screw or other. He got that screw on the brain, sir.”

“Well, smaller things than a screw have frequently put a murderer in the dock. Inspector,” Sir Hallard coinmened. “I need hardly remind you it’s often the details that matter."

“Undoubtedly, sir," was the grudging reply. "And I'm forced to admit, an examination of the screw hole in the door more or less pointed lo what he said being correct. But what does it prove?" “Merely that the murderer wasn’t this mythical beast or Incubus, or whatever the things supposed to be.” the Commissioner replied. It proves Scutl's murder was carefully planned beforehand and the murderer entered by the door, and not by the window, as suggested." “I can’t see it proves that, sir," objected the other rather sulkily. "Not at the present stage, perhaps. Inspector, but it's a very definite beginning to a line of investigation,” the Chief assured him sharply. “It may be the little slip that turns out to be an invaluable pointer to the truth. No, I think you can leave things to Hopton with perfect confidence.” “You know best, sir,” replied the disgruntled inspector with the very slightest shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Well, let's take a look at the scene of this evening's appearance—Ritson Lane,” suggested Sir Hallard. “I believe it's quite near here.” "That's correct, sir. I'll take you there at once,” replied Carlingford, leading the way. They had not walked a hundred yards however, before they suddenly ran into Hopton, who unexpectedly appeared out of the shadows. “Hullo, Inspector,” said Sir Hallard as his subordinate came up. “I thought it wouldn’t be .long before we came across you. I don't suppose you expected to find me down here, did you?" “As a matter of fact I heard you were taking a look round, sir," answered the Detective. “I hurried back here as soon as I received Inspector Carlingford’s report of this fresh development. I questioned the woman who saw this apparition, but couldn’t get much out of her except that the creature looked like a huge ape —but she’s an hysterical type. Since then I’ve been keeping an eye on St Luke’s Church.

“H'm d'you think this thing’s after the offertory box?" chuckled the Commissioner, to the joy of Carlingford and the Sergeant, who greeted their brother officer’s discomfiture with gurgles of delight. "No, sir, not exactly." smiled Hopton. passing the joke over lightly. “I feel certain something’ll happen in that quarter before long.” “Inspector Hopton is certain all this business has something to do with the Rev Galesbourne, sir,” commented Carlingford facetiously. “It’s quite useless to tell him that the gentleman’s been vicar of St Luke's for years, doing excellent work and without a stain against his character; he's not going to be convinced!”

“So I understand," smiled the Chief. "But I have every faith in Inspector Hopton's judgment. Suppose we go along and have a look at St Luke’s first, as it's so handy." “It's only just round the corner." directed Carlingford as they crossed the road and. turning to the left in front of a public-house, come in sight of the church in question. "That’s it. thur, sorr,” said the Sergeant, pointing out the church to Sir Hallard. “And the vicarage is the big, gloomy-lookin’ place on the roight.” “Pretty grim-looking hole, isn’t it?” commented the Commissioner, as he noted the confused mass of buildings. “Every conceivable style of architecture seems to have been jumbled up in the church, and the vicarage looks like a badly-designed barracks. I should think the man who has to live in such a hole for years might be driven to any excess!”

“Oh. it’s quite comfortable inside, sir," said Carlingford. “Indeed it is that,” amplified Sergeant O'Mara. “Mr Galesbourne’s got it fitted up with all his brass work —" “Brass work?” interjected Hopton sharply. “Yes. sorr, Iridian brasses —trays and goods and such ornaments which he told me he bought in the East." "I see," nodded the Detective. (To be Continued.)