Henderson daily dispatch. (Henderson, N.C.) 1914-1995, 1936-04-10
II was alone in Fiorence, dawdling

| I was alone IN Florence, dawdling
around, half vacationing, half work
ing. Certainly not doing any good
work because was tired. had
come from Africa, a years stay there.
and at Marseilles had tossed coin
to decide whether should go to
Brindisi or Florence. for three
months. Florence it had been and I
had bought my ticket there, and ar
ranged for my reservations at a
small hotel which had been recon-
mended by a friend. The hotel was
not what I expected 1t to be, and
after two days, I was thinking OF
leaving. Where, didn't know. Not
Brindisi, because I imagined I would
be as disappointed with it as was
with Florence. Perhaps it was
nerves, don't know. I'll blame il
on nerves anyway.
The second day in Florence I hap.
pened in on small shop. and was
about to buy a cameo when a man,
Van Every, he later turned out to
be, advised me not to. An obvious
fake, he told me quietly. I took his
advice. knew nothing about
canoes, but this one had seemed
very pretty. and had been in the
buying mood. I was disappointed.
We strolled away together, sat down
and lunched. Then, as 1 remember.
We took a long walk It was dusk
before we had exchanged names. but
we had talked for hours together.
That night had dinner at his villa,
and my stay in Florence frightened,
Van Every was interesting. He
urged me to come to the Villa
Maurin, which I did after a week.
And spent month there, idling.
talking to my host. getting a better
swing at my nerves.
hated to leave. The Villa Maurin
was entirely too comfortable. 1
would have liked to stay there for.
ever. But there was my work. II
had to be done. I started it later in
Paris, and wrote several notes to Van
Every. which he answered. After
that. our correspondence ceased as a
desultory correspondence win.
I can't conceive how rapidly my
month went by at the Villa Maurin.
1t always has seemed to me like a
short day. Perhaps it was because
was tired, my nerves shot-and
suddenly came to myself, realizing
was well. and no work would ret
done if I dawdled there.
There came low buys of a phone
at Keyes' elbow. I watched him take
up the receiver, heard him answer
and then his voice again became
alert, rasping. The call must be inn
portant.
He turned to me when he finished,
''Neff phoning from Barrimore's
apartment downtown. He just re-
tured, Barrimore, and when he
saw the officers in his place-they
had obtained the key from the land
lord for a thorough search-he shot
himself. Neff called the ambulance.
and is rushing him to st. Vincent's.
Barrimore came in distraught, as if
he were greatly worried. Didn't say
q word, but when he saw my men,
pulled his gun. and shot himself. So
that's that, guess. Self-confession."
said nothing. If Roy Barrinore
was Margalo's murderer, was glad
he had the decency to shoot himself
Everything now pointed to this con-
,lusion. His strange, actions. tor
although had never seen the man,
his behavior had been queer Yester-
lay coming up to M; galos apart
nent. demanding Of Mrs. Peoples
where she was. Calling Van Every,
f it was really he who called. then
n the early morning hours coming
% see me. phoning me at the War
'ington, making an appointment with
ne that he failed to keep. The ges-
ure at his apartment
(TO BE CONTINUED