EBONY TORSO

Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 September 1939, Page 10

EBONY TORSO

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

(By

JOHN C. WOODIWISS.)

CHAPTER XI. (Continued). “Huh!”- smiled Carlingford, looking across at his brother officer triumphantly. Bang goes a good clue there. Another unexplained mystery. Funny how easy it all sounds when it’s explained. Well, and what did he do then?” “He thought of an even safer hiding place, it seems; suggested the prisoner. “The screw-hole offered certain objections, as you’ll realise: the chief snag was that Scutt couldn't carry the door lintel about with him, and yet he didn’t like- to have the stone out of his sight; so he used the Ebony Torso as a hiding place . . drilled a hole in its stomach and hid the diamond there with a layer of black composition over it to hide the hole. His next game was to do the bogy-bogy -stuff hot , and strong and rave about the curse attached to the thing so that everyone’d be scared of it and leave it well alone.” “Not half a ba ■ notion,” Carlingford smiled. “That’s a new one on me.” “However, the day after his murder, the real owner of the stone—our friend the burglar, I means—turns up with the thirty-five quid, plus the interest, and asks for his property back again. It seems Scutt had left a statement of where the jewel was hidden in a locked deed-box in his kitchen, and this paper was found by his widow, who very fortunately for Mr ‘Burglar Bill,’ decided to ask the Vicar's advice before communicating with the police, and brought the whole thing to me. I, of course, put our crooked friend wise to the fact that the police had taken possession of the Torso, upon which he started to make discreet inquiries as to where the figure was being kept.” "I’d'like to know how ho out!” muttered Carlingford wrathfully. “So should 1, Inspector,” smiled the crook. “But these little official leakages will take place, won’t they? I realised the man was a dependable sort of person and finally took him into my confidence.” ■“That was a bit dangerous, wasn’t it?” suggested Hopton. “It turned out all right,” Galesbourne assured him. “Our interests were bound up in each other’s. He wanted the diamond back and I wanted the evidence of Scutt’s murder destroyed. I may mention here that 1 did the espionage work. Even police men will come over with a little information to such a popular and wellknown saint as Father Galesbourne . . “Well I’m — exploded the Divisional Inspector, but the other cut his angry exclamation short.

“Having found out that the coveted Torso was in your safe at Lambeth Station, we had watch kept until we saw you leave and then my new pal, who apparently knew the lay-out and routine remarkably /well, made a forcible entry, while one of his companions kept your clerk busy on the phone in the character of a lady whose dog was missing. Our plan was that after your safe had been cracked and my friend had recovered his property he was to destroy the remaining contents with a time bomb.”

“Gosh, what nerve!” cried Carlingford, grudging admiration in his tone. “Burgling a police station in broad daylight!” “We planned to catch you on ‘the element of surprise,’ Inspector,” laughed Galesbourne. “And if the Torso had been there it’d have come off, too.”

“I shall make' it my business to get that young man at once,” snapped Carlingford, chewing the ends of his moustache with fury at being shown up before his Chief. “Men like that are a public menace.” “Anyhow, he didn’t get his diamond,” chuckled the Commissioner. “But you’ll have to look into this leakage of information, Inspector, it’s serious.”

“I will that, sir, this very afternoon! These young constables . . .” and he turned his eyes to the ceiling in mute protest. “I think you can take the prisoner away, officer," ordered the Commissioner sharply. “Only I’d like to ask one more question before he goes. Why didn’t this Red Dave leave footmarks in any of his escapades?” “He used to swathe his shoes in rolls of bandage so that they left no mark, sir,” replied tne prisoner as he rose. “Good night, Sir Hallard,” and thank you for listening to me so patiently. Mr Frank Newton, my poor wife’s cousiq, who lives at Tenby, will be able to more or less verify what I've told you.” “Um,” grunted the Chief Commissioner, as he looked at his two subordinates and slowly polished the lens of his monocle. That’s another extraordinary case cleared up,” and ringing his bell, he rose to indicate the interview was at an end.

The two Inspectors look the hint and wishing the Chief goodnight, went down in the lift to Hopton’s room. Carlingford was in a very quiet and chastened mood as he took the chair his brothei - officer pushed forward. “You know, Hopton, I rather feel I owe you an apology over this case,” he began in a hesitating manner. “I'm afraid I took too certain a line in the beginning stages.” “Oh, that’s all right,” smiled the other. “One’s bound to make mistakes now and again, old man; but I hope this will prove one thing quite conclusively . . a theory which involves the possibility of a spook having done a crime, is the very last theory a police officer wants to accept.” “'Pon my soul, I’m beginning to agree with you!” ruminated the Divi-sional-Inspector. “But it was such a queer case.” “The queerer the case, the more ordinary the explanation, remarked the Scotland Yard man, lighting his pipe and offering his pouch to his colleague. “No thanks,” smiled Carlingford. “I’m going out to ‘have one’ now before I make a move for Lambeth and that inquiry. Goodnight, Hopton,” and

the big, red-headed man held out his hand in friendship and awkward admiration. “Goodbye, old son,” replied the detective, giving it a hearty squeeze. “See you again soon.” “I hope so,” returned his colleague as he left the room. “And that's the end of the Ebony Torso case,” Hopton muttered as he turned over the pile of papers on his desk in search of the next job. But strangely enough, it was not to be the end of this singular chain of events, for next morning Thomas Kendall Brownlee, alias Thomas Galesbourne, who was under remand for the wilful murder of the Reverend Francis Galesbourne, was found dead in his cell. It appeared that, foreseeing the possibility of arrest, he had made careful preparations to cheat the gallows. To this end he carried a pin wherever he went, the point of which was prepared with snake venom and, having made his final statement ,h?d contrived, to inject himself- with the powerful poison. So died this unfortunate man, the victim of circumstances which were, in the main, out of his control, and so the chief actor in an almost incredible drama escaped the publicity of the Assize Court and an ignominious death at the hands of an outraged community. Miss Ferrier, and Smith, who was arrested shortly afterwards, were duly put on trial, the former receiving a short sentence as an accessory after the fact, while the latter, on account of his age. was placed in a home for the rest of his life. It is amusing to note that, with Hopton’s assistance, the nameless burglar who caused such damage to Carlingford’s quarters at Lambeth Police Station, did not retain his anonymity long, but proved to be a certain Mr Edward Prout, of 34 Kennington Greenlane, who, it may be remehabered, was mentioned by Mrs Scutt in the early stages of the case. Some weeks after Galesbourne’s death, a remarkable find was made in an old house near St Luke’s Vicarage by workmen engaged in pulling down the property. Under a pile of boards they found something they at first took to be the body of some large animal, but which ultimately proved to be the stage costume of the “Human Ape,” surrounded by a number of tincans upon whose contents Red Dave had evidently lived while in hiding. This grim relic of an interesting criminal was duly'handed over to Scotland Yard and is now placed in a prominent position among the treasures in ’the “Black Museum.” (The End).