Evening star., 1936-09-11
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m struck him as particularly plaus.

ton Struck Nun 10 puA AsASooA'J F
ible.
His eyes went around the voluptuous
bedchamber. It was in bad taste, on
the whole-a 6rifle vulgar. Too rich,
too crowded, too miscellaneous. The
dresser cleaned with an excess OF odd
ments consecrated, for the most part,
to the beautician's art. They shone
In silver and glittered In polished
crystal The little clock was porcelain
and gilt. On one Of the walls the pic
lures were photographs ornately
framed: portraits Of fellow artists In
professional attitudes -. For dear
Rita, with all my love!" "Affectionate
regards to dearest Rita!" Heres look
ing at you, darling" They bristled
with devotion and exclamation points.
Blackwood vaguely wondered which
one Of them killed her.
He studied with interest one photo
graph Of Rita herself-it was obviously
she-taken some years before. She
had been a decidedly looking
girl, playing part apparently In some
amateur production of "The Mikado." !"
A little country girl who had come to
the big city to make good" he smiled,
reading the name and address Of the
photographer in a corner of the pho
tograph.
His attention returned to the low
table halfway between the window and
the bed lamp. Thereon reposed par
tial deck of cards; the others were
spread fanlike across the surface Of
the board. An interrupted game Of
solitaire?
"I don't envy your job" said Riley
Blackwood. you'll have to test every
card for fingerprints."
| But it was the ash tray on the table
that particularly interested him; II
was significantly empty.
Nethersole was watching him. II
know" he growled profanely. INC
fingerprints there, either. It's suspi-
cious; but, just the same, she may
not have been using It," He was still
worrying about the gun.
Somebody was using It." said
Blackwood. Nobody plays solitaire
without smoking; that's one Of thu
first rules in the book. If it was Rita
and probably 1t was-the card game
has no bearing on the case; not neces.
sarily, at any rate. She was probably
just killing time while waiting-or be.
fore going to bed"
Waiting for who?"
1.-THE word is whom" said Black.
wood affably. waiting for the mur-
derer, I suppose. She wouldn't know
he was the murderer, would she? Tht
tray was used by both Of them. II
must have been, otherwise there'd have
been no reason to empty it. His stubs
were in it. I suppose, and possibly they
were characteristic. Or he may havt
passed her the tray, which would leave
his fngerprints on the brass"
Ills? You think it was a man tha,
did this?"
mot necessarily. It's simply the
easiest assumption, at the moment
Anyway, the stubs were emptied anc
the tray was wiped"
Careful, eh7" commented Rye mo-
rosely.
Nethersole was argumentative. "W.
haven't found any matches" he point.
ed out. 'Nor any cigarettes, for thai
matter
Riley Blackwood lighted one of his
own. Its murder, just the same,
he said. IT can smell 'em, Nethersole
Thereu be headlines about this one
in the morning."
From an adjoining room sounded
a murmur of voices, one gruff, tn.
other family shrill. They were tn,
voices Of Latham, the third member
OF the police trinity, and Rita Wing.
fields housekeeper, a middle-aged fac.