The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1935-03-21


this in his collection"
eft is peculiar" Wrede turned his
attention again to the table. "This
vase might have been substituted for
the other"
eft was," said Vance laconically.
"Ahap Wrede, for some reason I
could no understand, seemed pleased;
and I asked myself if he were think
ing of Grassi.
Vance glanced at his watch.
"That will be all, Mr.. Wrede,
You'd better run along and get some
lunch. But we may want you tomor-
row. Will you be at your apartment ?"
eyes, all day." He hesitated. "May
I see Miss Lake before go?"
"By all means. And you might
break the news to her of Brisbane's
death"
Wrede went out, and we could hear
him mounting the stairs. !.
Markham rose nervously.
"What do you make of the fellow ?"
he asked.
Peculiar character-far from ap-
pealin'. I wouldn't choose him for a
boon companion"
"It occurred to me-" said Markham,
"that he might have opened the hall
closet this morning, and, because of
what he saw, told Gamble to phone
me-"
"It's possible" Vance nodded. "The
same thought fitted through my
mind. Anyway, it's safe to conclude
he doesn't care great deal for
Grassi. It struck me he was jealous
of the Italian. But Wrede's real pas
sion of hatred is directed toward the
cook. He has sized up LANG pretty
accurately. It's strange that Ar
cher, with his Sinological knowledge,
didn't suspect Liang's true status"
maybe he did," Markham suggest
ed, without interest.
Vance looked up quickly and took
his cigarette from his lips.
"My aunt! Maybe he did! :"
There came a pounding of heavy
footsteps on the hall stairs, and the
next moment Heath was standing in
the door, beaming triumphantly. He
held something in his hand, and,
crossing to the table, he threw the
object down for our inspection.
1t was one of the most beautiful
and interesting Chinese daggers I
have ever seen. The blade tapered
from a thicknss of about half an inch
at the guard to a stiletto-lipe point,
and was partly encrusted with dried
blood. The cylindrical handle was
wound with vermillion silk, with the
usual row of knots running down one
side; and it was surmounted by a
tiny figure of Kuan I'll, the Chinese
god of war, carved in brown jade.
That this dagger was the murder
weapon was obvious at one glance.
"Good work, Sergeant" said Vance.
"Where did you land it?"
"Under the cushion seat of the easy
chair where we found the dead guy
this morning."
ooh, I say! Really? In Archer
Goes bedroom ?" Vance seemed as
tonished at Heath's announcement.
"Most amazin'. :"
Heath watched him a moment and
then looked back at the dagger.
"And not a chance to pick up a.
fngerprint," he complained with dis
gust. "a silk handle" He chewed vi
ciously on his burnt-out cigar.
"No-no fingerprints," murmured
Vance without lifting his eyes from
the floor. "But that isn't the chief
difficulty, Sergeant. Brisbane Coe
was stabbed hours after Archer Coe
was stabbed. The whole thing is
mad. :"
He continued pacing in a brown
study. Suddenly he drew up short.
Sergeant! Bring me Brisbane
Goes topcoat-the black-and-white
tweed one-from the hall closet" His
voice held a tinge of excitement.
Heath left the room and returned
shortly with the garment.
Vance began turning the pockets
inside out. From the left-hand out
side pocket he drew forth two pieces
of fine, waxed linen string about four
feet long. He was about to throw
these to one side, when he suddenly
bent forward and inspected them.
One end of each piece of string was
tied securely to large bent pin.
Heath uoc lool<inoc IN with rant