The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-03-25
~
 FICTION
had been turned into !


 using Sir Georges card asked him if he could see the inspector in charge. The young policeman requesting him to ;ake a seat, said he would inquire if the inspector was disengaged, and disappeared into an inner office, where police officer sat writ ing at large desk.
 Inspector Murcllison of Staveley was in every way contrast to Police Sergeant Westaway of Ashlingsea. He was large and portly man with good-natured smile, twinkling blue eyes and protecting of- fical manner which ladies who had occa- sion 70 seek his advice found very sooth- ing. He had been stationed at Staveley for nearly 30 years, but instead of souring un- der his circumscribed existence like Ser geant Westaway, he had expanded with the town, and become more genial and good tempered as the years rolled on.
 He was popular and important figure in Staveley, taking deep and all-embrac- ing interest in tho welfare of the town and it's inhabitants. He was leading spirit in every local movement for Staveley's ad- vancement; he was an authority in its lore, traditions, vital statistics and local govern ment he had even written a booklet in which the history of Staveley was set forth and its attractions as health and pleasure resort were described in superlative terms. He was regarded by the residents as capable mentor and safe guide in all af- fairs of life, and was the chosen receptacle of many domestic condolences of delicate andimportant nature. Husbands consulted him about their wives extravagance; wives besought him to warn husbands against the folly of prolonged visits to hotels on the front because there happened to be ney, barmaid from London.
 It was striking proof of Inspector Murchi- sons rectitude that, although he was the repository of as many domestic histories as family physician or lawyer, none of the confidences given him had ever become common gossip. For all his kindly and talk ative ways, he was as secret and safe as the grave, despite the fact that he had wife and five grownup daughters not less curious than the rest of their sex. He was an efficient police officer, carefully safe guarding the public morals and private prop erty entrusted to his charge, and Staveley shopkeepers, as they responded to his smil- ing salutations when he walked abroad, felt that they could sleep in peace in their beds, safe from murder, arson or robbery, while his portly imposing official personal ity guarded the town.
 Inspector Murchison swung round on his office chair as Crewe and Marsden were brought in by the young policeman.
 "What can I do for you, gentlemen" he asked courteously.
 "This is Mir. Crewe," said Marsland. "Mr. Crewe has been making inquiries about the murder at Cliff Farm"
 "Glad to see you both," said Inspector Muchison, extending his hand. "If I can be of any assistance to MT. Crewe he has only to say so. Of course, Pve heard all about the murder at Cliff Farm. It was you who discovered the body, MT. Marsland. A terrible affair." Poor, inoffensive Frank Lumsden! l knew him we'll, and his grand father, too-a queer old stick Buried his money where no one can find it. And that is what is at the back of this murder, Mir. Crewe, l have no doubt.'
 "It certainly looks like it," said Crewe.
 What is your opinion, inspector, with regard to the money?" asked Marsland. Do you think that young Lumsden found it and refused to pay the legacies, or that it has never been found?"
 "It has never been found," said Inspec- tor Murchison in a positive tone. "I'm quite certain of that Why, it is scarcely more than week ago that young Lumsden and his friend Brett came to ask me if l could throw any light on it. They had mysterious looking cryptogram that young