The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-08-19
SERIAL STORY Murder on the Boardwalk BY % gI!NoR. 1 CONAN . ANS STONE

marks of two rowboats in the sand |, down there, Inspector Parsons-both made since high tide. One of the boats is there yet. No one seems to know anything about it."
 'Any-signs in the boat7"
 "No, sir; but there's been a scuffle down there, and there's | two sets of footprints coming up | this way-only you lose 'em when | they come to the dry sand And the boys are bringing in one of them beachcombers. He tried to beat 1t when he seen us; and he tried to throw this away after We caught him."
 A small object changed hands.
 well, Doc, what do you make of it?"
 The inspector turned to the man in the white coat.
 well" the doctor said, "the victim had been heavily and re- peatedly drugged. There are marks of a hypodermic needle. But death was caused by a wound from slen- der, pointed weapon Found anything that answers that descrip- tion?"
 we haven't found any weapon of any sort here"
 The doctor said something that Christine missed; but which the in- spector seemed to find of peculiar interest
 "How long agop" he demanded sharply.
 T can't be entirely sure - but before rigor mortis set in. That might be two hours ago. Perhaps little earlier"
 Christine glanced at her watch. One thirty. It had been almost 11:3O when she and Bill had come this way before.
 At this moment Bill loomed at her side.
 Sorry" he murmured. But breaking out of jail is easy com- pared with breaking in here Say, this must be Page One event! Half the Surf City police force seems to be here not to speak of the press" he added as several flashlights went off near at hand. ..-.
 Hey - you!" The sergeant who had detained Christine turned bel ligerently. Who told you you had any business in here?"
 My own chivalrous soul, offi- cer," Bill answered smoothly. This young lady is in my care. I'm taking her home"
 "You are not. We want to talk to her"
 At this moment several new corners were admitted through the ropes: the man who had iden- tified Christine, a neWsboy, waitress whom Christine had seen in the ice-cream stand next door. the resplendent doorman from the hotel across the Boardwalk, and finally - looking more than usual- ly apologetic and helpless - MT. Wilmet.
 My dear Miss Nevin" MT. Will met cried. This is no place for you"
 "It would be nice," Christine said, eff you could persuade the sergeant to take that view"
 "Officer," MT. Wilmet protested in his intellectual way, you surely don't need this young lady. can tell you all about her. She is Miss Grace Nevn, @ very accomplished artist who is in my employ"
 Now he has ruined 1t, Christine thought. Because sooner or later they'll have to know my real name.
 A deep, somnolent voice echoed in her memory: You were very unwise to register under an as- stunned name I see for you a very real danger"
 II own this concession" MT. Wilmet was going on; land I must say it's terrible shock to have a thing like this happen here just as business was picking up." |
 Well, now" the officer said with heavy sarcasm, tits just too bad the poor lady couldn't have planned to get herself murdered SOHleWIleTc elSc.
 Lady! Christine thought blank ly-and realized for the first time that the dark-clad figure she had glimpsed so sketchedly might just as well have been womans as a mans.
 It was at this point that police ambulance rumbled down the Board- walk and stopped. Men clambered down, lifted out stretcher, and tramped down the ramp into the booth.
 Inspector Parsons head emerged above the railing.
 Nov, Sergeant" he said, be fore they move her, we'll find out whether any of these people know anything about her Down here, please, all of you"
 The newsboy was first to file by the stretcher; then, in order, went the doorman, the waitress, the man from the shooting gallery, MT. Wilmet, and Christine-close- ly followed by Bill Yardley. |
 Christine kept her eyes averted from the stretcher until her own turn came. When at length she