The Barnwell people-sentinel. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1925-current, January 28, 1937, Image 6
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TU Barawil Bitliil, BarmwclL S. C.
Tlug»dmy, Jmmary 28,
1937
Lacy Squares Form
a Spread or Scarf
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i Pattern 5695
In this pattern filet crochet, that
favorite of the modem needle
woman, is adapted to two lovely
squares—handsome used together
—effective each used alone in
cloth, bedspread or scarf. The
lace stitch sets off the design in
each square. String is the ma
terial used and you’ll be delight
ed with the result. You can also
use mercerized cotton to mak^ the
squares a smaller size. In pattern
6695 you will find instructions and
charts for making the squares
shown; an illustration of them
and of the stitches needed; ma
terial requirements.
To obtain this pattern send 15
cents in stamps or coins (coins
preferred) to The Sewing Circle
Household Arts Dept., 259 W.
Fourteenth St., New York, N. Y.
Write plainly pattern number,
your name and address.
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Be thou of resolute mind, that
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The Garden Murder Case
by S.S.VAN DINE
Cofjrriffct S. S. Vaa
WNU
HJICUMN STOCK MEDICME Ml
CHAPTER I
Thera were two reasons why the
terrible and, in many ways, incredi
ble Garden murder case—which
took place in the early spring fol
lowing the spectacular Caaino mur
der case—was so designated. In
the first place, the scent of this
tragedy was the penthouse home
of Professor Ephraim Garden, the
great experimental chemist of Stuy-
vesant university; and secendly, the
exact situs criminis waa the beauti
ful private roof-garden over the
apartment itself.
It was both a peculiar and im
plausible affair, and one so cleverly
planned that only by the merest
accident—or perhaps, I should say
a fortuitous intervention—was it dis
covered at all.
The Garden murder case involved
a curious and anomalous mixture
of passion, avarice, ambition and
horse-racing. There was an admix
ture of hate, also; but this potent
and blinding element was, I imag
ine, an understandable outgrowth
of the other factors.
The beginning of the case came
on the night of April 13. It was one
of those mild evenings that we often
experience in early spring following
a spell of harsh dampness, when
all the remaining traces of winter
finally capitulate to the inevitable
seasonal changes. There was a
mellow softness in the air, a sud
den perfume from the burgeoning
life of nature—the kind of atmos
phere that makes one lackadaisical,
and wistful and, at the same time,
stimulates one’s imagination.
I mention this seemingly irrele
vant fact because I have good rea
son to believe these meteorological
conditions had much to do with the
startling events that were imminent
that night and which were to break
forth, in all their horror, before an
other 24 hours had passed.
And I believe that the season,
with all its subtle innuendoes, waa
the real explanation of tha change
that cams over Vance himself dur
ing his investigation of the crime.
Up to that time I had never con
sidered Vance a man of any deep
personal amotion, except in so far
as children and animals and his in
timate masculine friendships were
concerned. He had always im
pressed me as a man so highly
mentalized, so cynical and imper
sonal in his attitude toward life,
that an irrational human weakness
like romance would be alien to his
nature. But in the course of his
deft inquiry into the murders in
Professor Garden's penthouse, I
saw, for the first time, another and
softer side of his character. Vance
was never a happy man in the
conventional sense; but after tha
Garden murder case there were evi
dences of an even deeper loneliness
in his sensitive nature.
As I have said, the case opened—
so far as Vance was concerned with
it—on the night of April 13. John
K-X. Markham, then district attor
ney of New York county, had dined
with Vance at his apartment in
East Thirty-eighth street. The din
ner had been excellent—as all of
Vance's dinners were—and at ten
o'clock the three of us were sitting
in the comfortable library.
Vance and Markham had been
discussing crime waves in a desul
tory manner. There had been a
mild disagreement, Vance discount
ing the theory that crime waves
are calculable, and holding that
crime is entirely personal and there
fore incompatible with generaliza
tions or laws.
It was in the midst of this dis
cussion that Currie, Vance’s old
English butler and majordomo^ ap
peared at the library door. I no
ticed that he seemed nervous and
ill at ease as he waited for Vance
to finish speaking; and I think
Vance, too, sensed something un
usual in the man’s attitude, for
he stopped speaking rather abruptly
and turned.
“What is it, Currie? Have you
seen a ghost, are there burglars in
the house?”
“I have just had a telephone call,
sir,” tha old man answarad, endeav
oring to restrain tha excitement in
his voice.
"Not bad news from abroad?"
Vance asked sympathetically.
"Oh, no, sir; it wasn't anything
for me. There waa a gentleman on
the phone—"
Vance lifted his eyebrows and
smiled faintly.
"A gentleman, Currie?"
— “He spoke like a gentleman, sir.
He was certainly no ordinary per
son. He had a cultured voice, sir,
and—"
"Since your instinct has gone so
far,” yance. interrupted, "perhaps
you can tall me the gentleman’s
age?”
"I should say he was middle-age
or perhaps a little beyond,” Currie
ventured. “His voice sounded ma
ture and dignified and judicial."
"Excellent!" Vance crushed out
his cigarette. "And what waa the
object of this dignified, middle-aged
gentleman’s call? Did he ask to
speak to me or give you his name?’’
A worried look came into Cur
rie’s eyes as he shook his head.
"No, sir. That’s the strange part
of it. He said he did not wish to
speak to you personally, and he
would not tell me his name. But he
asked me to give you a message.
He was very precise about it and
made me write it down word for
word and then repeat it. And the
moment I had done so he hung up
the receiver." Currie stepped for
ward. “Here’s the message, sir."
Vanqe took ft and nodded a dis
missal, Then he adjusted his mon
ocle and held the slip of paper un
der the light of the table lamp.
Markham and I both watched him
Markham Snorted, "That May
Make Sense to Yoa."
closely, for the incident was un
usual, to say the least. After a
hasty reading of the paper he gazed
of? into space, and a clouded look
came into his eyes. He read the
message again, with more care, and
sank back into his chair.
"My word!” he murmured. "Most
extr'ordin’ry. It’s quite intelligible,
however, don’t y’ know. But I’m
dashed if I can see the connec
tion ..."
Markham was annoyed. "Is it a
secret?” he asked testily. "Or are
you merely in one of your Delphio-
oracle moods?”
Vance glanced toward him con
tritely.
"Forgive me, Markham. My mind
automatically went off on a train
of thought. Sorry—really.” He
held the paper again under the light.
"This is the message that Currie so
meticulously took down: ’There is
a most disturbing psychological
tension of Professor Ephraim Gar
den’s apartment, which resists di
agnosis. Read up on radioactive
sodium. See Book XI of the Aeneid,
line 875, Equanimity is essential’
. . . Curious—eh, what?”
"It sounds a little crazy to me,"
Markham grunted. "Are you trou
bled much with cranks?"
"Oh, this is no crank,” Vance
w — —— ——
e groggiest nor
nation concern*
i, except that a
oarod him. "It’s puzzlin’, I admit;
but it’s quite lucid."
Markham sniffed skeptically.
"What, in tha noma of Heaven,
have a professor and sodium and
tha Aanaid to do with one another?"
Vance was frowning as ha reached
Into tha humidor for one of his
beloved cigarettes with s delibera
tion which indicated a mental ten
sion. Slowly he lighted tha cigarette.
After a deep inhalation ha an
swered.
"Ephraim Garden, of whom you
surely must hsva heard from time
to time, is one of the best-known
men in chemical research in this
country. Just now, I believe, he’s
professor of chemistry at Stuy ve
sant university—that could be veri
fied in Who’s Who. But it doesn’t
matter. His latest researches have
been directed along the lines of
radioactive sodium. An amazin’ dis
covery, Markham. Made by Doctor
Ernest O. Lawrence, of the Univer
sity of California, and two of his
colleagues there, Doctors Hendfer-"
son and McMillan. This new radio
active sodium has openec up new
fields of research in cancer thera
py—indeed, it may prove some day
to be the long-looked-for cure for
cancer. The new gamma radiation
of this sodium is more penetrating
than any ever before obtained. On
the other hand, radium and radio
active substances can be very dan
gerous if diffused into the normal
tissues of the body and through the
blood stream.
"That is all very fascinating,"
Markham commented, sarcastical
ly. "But what has it to do with you,
or with trouble in the Garden, home?
And what could it possibly have to
do with the Aeneid? They didn’t
have radioactive sodium in the time
of Aeneas.”
"Markham, old dear, I’m no Chal
dean. I haven’t the groggiest
tion wherein the situation
either me or Aeneas,
happen to know the Garden family
slightly. But I’ve a vague feeling
about that particular book of the
Aeneid. As I recall, it contains one
of the greatest descriptions of a
battle in all ancient literature. But
let’s sea ..."
Vance rose quickly and went to
the section of his book-shelves de
voted to the classics, and, after a
few moments’ search, took down a
small red volume and began to rif
fle the pages. He ran his eye swift
ly down a page near the end of the
volume and after a minute’s perusal
cams back to his chair with tha
book, nodding his head compre
hensively, as if in answer to some
question ha had inwardly asked
himself.
"Tha passage referred to, Mark
ham,” he said after a moment, "is
not exactly what I had in mind. But
it may be even more significant.
It’s the famous onomatopoeic Quad-
rupedumque putrem cursu quatit
ungula campum—meanin*, more or
less literally: "And in their gal
loping course the horsehoof shakes
the crumbling plain."
Markham took the cigar from his
mouth and looked at Vance with
undisguised annoyance.
"You’re merely working up a
mystery. You’ll be telling me next
that the Trojans had something to
do with this professor of chemistry
and his radioactive sodium.”
"No, oh, no.” Vance was In an
unusually serious mood. "Not the
Trojans. But the galloping horses
perhaps.”
Markham snorted. "That may
make sense to you.”
"Not altogether,” returned Vance,
critically contemplating the end of
his cigarette. "There is, neverthe
less, the vague outline of a pattern
here. You see, young Floyd har
den, the pepfessor’s only offspring,
and his cousin a puny chap named
Woods Swift—he’s quite an intimate
member of the Garden household, I
believe—are addicted to the ponies.
Quite a prevalent disease, by the
way, Markham. They’re both in
terested in sports in general—prob
ably the normal reaction to their
professorial and ecclesiastical fore
bears: young Swift’s father, who has
now gone to his Maker, was a D.D.
of sorts. I used to see both young
Johnnies at Kinkaid’s Casino occa
sionally. But the galloping horses
are their passion now. And they’re
the nucleus of a group of young
aristocrats who spend their after
noons mainly in the futile attempt
to guess which horses are going to
come in first at the various tracks."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
BEGINNING
IN THIS ISSUE . . .
-A •*
‘THE GARDEN
MURDER CASE*
I. fm VAN CINE*/
Neu>e»t Philo Vance
Murder Mgeterg
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