Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 51: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

VOICES. 521 Peters. It’s ridiculous to suspect Peters, of course, when you have an alibi for him. I want to know how perfect that alibi is.” “Faultless and flawless,” announced Fenwick. ‘I should call it unquestionable, were it not for the coincidence of the re- volver.” “Some juries would hang a man on that evidence, Bell,” grunted Corson. “ But that’s neither here nor there. Last night I kidded you and King a bit about your own position in this matter. Now I’m not kid- ding. How good is your own alibi, and how good is King’s?” The girl gasped and Fenwick chuckled. “ [’m afraid we can only corroborate each other’s story, inspector,” he advised. ‘“T know mighty well that you’re not in- volved,” interposed Corson hastily. “‘ How about King? Were you seated in the blue room in a position to see him the moment he entered the house? Would he have had time to open the door of Kirke’s .study while Peters was bolting the front door?” “ Probably—yes. Why do you ask?” “ Peters tells me that King and Kirke were arguing when they drove up to the house. He could hear them when he hur- ried to admit Kirke, and as he opened the door King shouted from the car: “ You'll tell me all you know, or have reason to regret it!” “ Well?” “T’ye questioned Kirke’s maids and eliminated them. I know that some one in the house was responsible for Kirke’s death. It wasn’t Peters, and it wasn’t you. Who else was there?” “Otis King,” admitted Fenwick. “ He sat beside me when the lights went out— when the sound of a shot rang out. He is absolutely innocent.” “ Couldn’t Mr. Kirke have taken his own life, inspector?” queried Lorraine anxiously. “ He eouldn’t kill himself and then dis- pose of the pistol,” returned Corson. “ I’ve ransacked that den from top to bottom. Now I want to see King.” Boyden entered the room, beaming. ‘““ My assistant, Mr. Boyden, inspector,” introduced Fenwick, and the two shook hands. “Kin I talk right out in meetin’, Mr, Bell?” inquired Seth. friends.” Fenwick nodded. “Remember how some one snuck down- stairs last night an’ disconnected our phones? Remember I told you how I seen some one shut the door o’ the third room f'm yours? Well, sir, Riggs tells me that King was s’posed to sleep in that room. I trotted up to question him, but he wasn’t there!” Corson jumped to his feet. “There you are!”’ he thundered. “ What does that look like?” “ Flight!” answered Fenwick. der if it really is?” “We're all good * T won- CHAPTER VIII. A NEW MAN IN THE CASE. = HERE did King keep his car over- \¢ night?” demanded Corson. ** Riggs tells me it was still in front o’ the house when the young feller turned in last night,” advised Boyden. “Do any of you know the license num- ber?” catechized the inspector. Fenwick turned to Lorraine, who ap- peared to hesitate. He nodded reassuringly. “I know it,” he admitted. “ It’s 23-773.” “Thank you, miss,”’ acknowledged Cor- son. He walked across the room to the telephone table. “Spring 3100,” he directed. “Give me McKetchnie, operator. : Mac, this is Corson. Put down this number. Ready? 23-773. That’s a tag number; stolen motor car. France-Corlies speedster; color, dark brown, Thief has owner’s cre- dentials. Find it this morning; within the hour if you can, and be sure to get the man who took it! When you do, call me on Newtown 4987. If I’m not there they’ll tell you where Iam. G’-by.” He jabbed the receiver on the hook with an air of satisfaction. ‘Tf King is anywhere in the five boroughs with that car we’ll find him,” he assured Fenwick. “ When we do he’ll have to ex- plain.” “ Ingenious enough,” acknowledged Char- lie. “ You certainly have wonderful ma: A pause. Ks =. es te og ae comicbooks:com —