New Britain herald., 1922-01-17

| chanically searching for and hndinH the light switch in the wall,
 Instantly the soft glow of many low, opal-tinted lamps sprang into being and revealed the sheer beauty of the arrangements of the room. but Ser seant Barrys eyes searched only for i some sign Of disorder that would in- ! dicatc hurried flight, and finding none he opened the door at the back It ! led into a boudoir upholstered deli cately in light blue and rose, and l through that he passed into an ivory and gold bedroom and to the tiled, immaculate kitchenettc beyond, but nowhere was there sign Of alien presence.
 The icebox contains only butter and cream, and that dress and hat upon the bed would indicate that Mrs Vane had dined out" the professor observed.
 "Vane? Miriam Vane?" Barry 1 wheeled suddenly. 'Js that who she is. the artist who has created such a stir with her new type of pcrtrature among the celebrities?"
 Yes. Her portraits are dangerous ly near caricstures, for some perverse Impulse has seemed to guide her brush although Ho subtly that he' clients themselves have rarely detect 1 ed that rardonically revealing touch or two, but the critics have aVed about her genius" The professor turned Ut is evident that we are too late here, for this kitchenette door leading into the outer hall is bolted from the inside but someone | is coming
 Someone had indeed arrived. They hastencd back to the living room to find standing just within the door, way young rlan in dinner coat Hit.' wildly rumpled hair and policeman | in uniform. | The latter advanced with aggres- sive authority which suffered sud- den change.
 What's been going on here? heard shot and I've. been pounding below till this young gentleman here let me in. Oh you're here. Sergeant Barry. This is my regular beat, sir and thinking there was something | unusual" ......
 There s Boyle Barry nodded grimly to the policeman. Tn that studio wonder there's a woman lying shot through the heart"
 "A woman" The young man ir the dinner coat repeated with gasp Not Miriam Nane. It's impossible
 He rushed past the group to the ] studio doorway, clung there for mo ment in worthless horror, then col lapsed into the nearest chair, buryine his face in his hands.
 Boyle was instantly all business A After quick examination of the body he turned to Barry.
 "Would you mind telling me. Ser seant?' he began but the other in corrupted him.
 Not in the least, although we know very little. l was here unofficially, visiting this old friend of mine, MT, Semyonov, who lives on the fifth fIoor--two above this-when we heard the shot and rushed down to investi- gate. There seems to be no one, Tn the apartment directly above this one and took the responsibility Of break ing in the door here because we could get no reply to repeated knocking ana the light from the studio there strcamed out under the sill into the outer hall You can see how brilliant it is: it must be some special light fo' artists to paint by at night
 'I'lI have to report this at once to Inc station" Boyle. who had been listening attentively, nodded and turned to the professor. Have vol anything, sir, to add to what Sergeant Barry has told me"'
 Professor Semyonov pondered for moment, and then said slowly:
 "Only that when we heard the .,rnd of the shot and opened my door fancied that heard footsteps on the stairs helow.'
 Barry. whose eyes had turned to that collapsed figure in the chair thought that he saw a shudder sweep had shaken the inert form, but he aid nothing as the policeman paused at the screened telephone on the table to inquire:
 "Could you say, sir, whether those footsteps were going up or down?' ?'
 Not definitely" the professor hesl tatcd. "One would suppose naturally that they were descending to escape by way of the street and yet it seemed to me that they were coming up, al- though we met no one.'
 He paused. Framed in the hall doorway there had appeared a tall. riddlc-aged man clad in tattered gown, with lean, smooth shaNen. irascible face upon which astonish- nent struggled with resentment
 Whats been going on here. oft1 eero" he demanded. I'm Griswold on the floor above. Who's been pound ing on my door fit to wake the dead "
 "There's been murder going on. sir." Officer Boyle retoitnd gfimly 50 it was pounding you heard
 That was l." Professor SnnlyonoN remarked wit, dignity. Y stopped on the way down at this person door but received no response
 And you names Griswold?' the policeman prevented an evidently heated reioinder by his sharp aues- ton.
 "Henry Griswold, and l know noth- inr whatever about any murder. 1e- clarcd the newcomer. "l do not care