The Monmouth inquirer., 1918-03-14


small hands in brown gloves. She
wore brown toque, or do they call
them turbans? And her coat and skirt
and dainty shoes were of the same
shade and color.
"Are you ill?" / asked quickly. She
made no reply. The elevator came to
quiet stop at grade.
/ put a hand on her shoulder and
her head fell over against me, the hat
dropping to the floor. That hat had
never been pinned on. lifted her face
so l might look into it; with gentle
fingers I pressed back the eyelids. She
was dead. / placed the body at length
on the seat, covering the face with my
handkerchief, then went out the front
door and blew shrill blast on my fin
gers, repeating 1t after moments in
teryal.
A patrolman came before expected
him. knew him-he was one of item
two | overlooked. l showed him the
reason for whistling, told him where I
would be the next half hour or so, and
went on my way to supper.
didn't have to telephone any news
paper; l had resigned, and the story
would be caught by the late man on
police. l was through with newspaper
work, once and for all, and / did not
care whether the young lady in the
elevator had died of heart disease,
apoplexy, poison, knife, or bullet, or
her reason for being in the elevator
after a. m. did not have to spec
ulate or conjecture who she was, why
her turban was not pinned, where she
came from. and what had happened;
and l could quit thinking about her
lust as soon as / pleased.
Thus assuring myself, ate supper
and thought about her
l had heard the elevator go down
not sixty seconds before | entered it;
. that was she. Had / heard the eleva-
tor close when she went inside? No,
only the hum of the dropping lift. No
other door had opened or shut to my
hearing, and had good ears. Item,
two good ears. Overlooked that. She
was in the elevator before l opened
my door.
She had been fine-looldng woman
girl was better. She was richly
dressed and becomingly. All in brown
to match hair and eyes. About twenty
five, allowing two years either way;
one couldn't be certain about the age
of the dead. Nothing in her express
sion to indicate cause of death, no look
of surprise or horror, just the pallor
of the corpse.
Hat not pinned on, and she never
made a habit of wearing it without
pins; 1t came off too easily. Gloves
on. coat on when she met death; hat
not on. She wasn't the kind to get in
to an elevator half dressed. She did
MT cross her hands on her lap when
her turban was not pinned. Some
body stuck that hat on her head after
she was dead
It was not my business to begin
Sherlock Holmesing or to make obvi-
Gus deductions. l should call the I'M
pinned hat to the attention Of the cen
tral-ofice men, take squint at it to
satisfy myself it needed pins, then HE
myself to bed and dreams. Mysteries
were no longer my avocation, and they
had been too long my business to hold
an interest.
Detective Sergeant Marcus was
there when 1 got back. and quite
numerous crowd, some from the apart
ments, and others night-birds of the
streets, who had gathered with the
coming of the patrol-wagon. The body
had been carried to the Office of the
building and police surgeon was
making an investigation as to the
cause of death. Marcus was question
ing tenants, trying to get a line on
the woman's identity, but he called to
me as soon as l pushed through the
fringe.
"What do you know about this, Gil
more?" he asked.
"Only that l found her in the eleva-
tor as 1 told Cobb. heard the lift go
down minute before as stood at
my door. When got aboard, she was
propped into one corner. put hand
on her shoulder and her hat fell OFF. 1t
hadn't been pinned on"
Marcus grinned. rs that import
anti" he asked.
"Yes, 1 guess. Let me look at the
headgear and I'll tell you definitely"
I stepped to where it had been placed
on a table and found that two hatpins
transfixed it, both sides. held it for
Marcus to see.. "She had not put on
her hat when she died." declared.
"She put it on and didn't pin it,
more probably"
"And you a married mani" ex-
claimed in disgust. Anything else
can do for you? It's my bedtime"
'What's the matter with the Senti-
mel? Aren't they looking for stories?
"They are; I'm not. I've quit"
$50? Resigned, Ell? Not interested
in the case?"
"Only casually. What did it, doc?"
The medical man had turned from the
body. looking at Marcus. The detec-