by S.S. VAN DINE Copyright S. 8. Van Dine WNU Service SYNOPSIS Philo Vance, famous detective, and John ¥F. X. Markham, district attorney for New York county are dining in Vance's apart. ment when Vance receives an anonymous telephone message informing him of a "dis. turbing psychological tension at Professor Ephriam Garden's apartment’ advising that he read up on radio-active sodium, consult a passage in the Aeneid and coun- seling that “Equanimity is essential’ Pro- fessor Garden is famous in chemical re. search. The message, decoded by Vance, reminds him that Professor Garden's son Floyd and his puny cousin, Woode Swift, are addicted to horse-racing. Vance says that “Equanimity’ is ahorse running next day in the Rivermont handicap. Vance is convinced that the message was sent by Dr. Siefert, the Gardens’ family physician. He arranges to have lunch next day at the Gardens’ penthouse. Vance is greeted by Floyd Garden and meets Lowe Hammle, an elderly follower of horse racing. Floyd ex- presses concern over Swift's queer actions. Mrs. Garden, supposedly ill, comes down- stairs and places a $100 bet on a horse. Gathered around an elaborate loud speaker service, listening to the racing are Cecil Kroon, Madge Weatherby and Zalia Graem, who bet varying amounts on the race. ‘There is tension under the surface galety. Zalia and Swift are not on speaking terms. Kroon leaves to keep an appointment be- fore the race starts. Miss Beeton, a nurse, and Vance bet on “Azure Star.”” Swift reck- lessly bets $10,000 on “Equanimity’ and goes to the roof garden to hear the results, Floyd follows Swift, remaining away sev- eral minutes. Zalia answers a phone call in the den. Soon after the announcement that "Azure Star” wins, the guests hear a shot, CHAPTER III—Continued re [pn Vance was the first on his feet. His face was grim as he moved rap- idly toward the archway. I followed him, and just behind came Gar- den. As I turned into the hallway I saw the others in the drawing- room get up and move forward. As we hurried down the hall Zalia Graem opened the den door. “What was that?’’ she asked, her frightened eyes staring at us. “We don’t know yet,” Vance told her. In the bedroom door, at the lower end of the hall, stood the nurse, with a look of inquiring concern on her otherwise placid face. “You'd better come along, Miss up the stairs two at a time. “You may be needed.” dor and stopped momentarily at the door on the right, which led out upon the roof. This door was still propped open, and after a hasty preliminary survey through it, he stepped quickly out into the garden. The sight that met our eves was not wholly unexpected. There, in the low chair which he had pointed out to us earlier that afternoon, sat Woode Swift, slumped down, with his head thrown back at an un- natural angle against the rattan head-rest, and his legs straight out before him. He still wore the ear- phone. His eyes were open and staring; his lips were slightly part- ed: and his thick glasses were tilted forward on his nose. In his right temple was a small ugly hole beneath which two or three drops of already coagulating blood had formed. His right arm hung limp over the side of the chair, and on the colored tiling just under his hand lay a small pearl-handled revolver. Vance immediately approached the motionless figure, and the rest of us crowded about him. Zalia Graem, who had forced her way forward and was now standing be- side Vance, swayed suddenly and caught at his arm. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes appeared glazed. Vance turned quickly and, putting his arm about her, half led and half carried her to a large wick- er divan nearby. He made a beck- oning motion of his head to Miss Beeton. “Look after her for a moment,” he requested. “And keep her head down." Then he returned to Swift. “Every one please keep back,” he ordered. ‘No one is to touch him.” He took out his monocle and ad- justed it carefully. Then he leaned over the crumpled figure in the chair. He cautiously scrutinized the wound, the top of the head, and the tilted glasses. When this examina- tion was over he knelt down on the tiling and seemed to be search- ing for something. Apparently he did not find what he sought, for he stood up with a discouraged frown and faced the others. “Dead,” he announced, in an un- wontedly sombre tone. ‘I'm taking charge of things temporarily.” Zalia Graem had risen from the divan, and the nurse was supporting her with a show of tenderness. “Please, Miss Beeton,”’ he said, “take the young lady downstairs immediately.” Then he added, “I'm sure she'll be all right in a few minutes.” The nurse nodded, put her arm firmly about Miss Graem, and led her into the passageway. Vance waited until the two young women were gone: then he turned to the others. “You will all be so good as to go downstairs and re- main there until further orders.” “But what are you going to do, Mr. Vance?’ asked Mrs. Garden in a frightened tone. “We must keep this thing as quiet as possible , . . My poor Woody!” “I'm afraid, madam, we shall not be able to keep it quiet at all.” Vance spoke with earnest sig- nificance. “My first duty will be to telephone the district attorney and the homicitle bureau.” «* Mrs. Garden gasped. “The district attorney? The Hom- icide bureau?” she repeated dis- tractedly. “Oh, no! . . . Why must you do that? Surely, any one can Jee that the poor boy took his own life." Vance shook his head slowly. “I regret madam,” he said, ‘‘that this is not a case of suicide . It's murder!” Following Vance's unexpected an- nouncement there was a sudden si- lence. Everyone moved reluctantly toward the door to the passage- way. Only Garden remained behind. “Is there a telephone up here?” Vance asked. ‘‘Yes, certainly,” replied Garden. “There's one in the study.” Garden brushed past us with nervous energy, as if glad of the opportunity for action. He threw open the door at the end of the passageway and stood aside for us to enter the study. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the desk at the far end of the room, on which stood a hand tele- phone. “That's an open line. No connection with the one we use for the ponies, though it's an extension of the phone in the den.” He stepped swiftly behind the desk and threw a black key on the switch box that was attached to the side of the desk. ‘‘By leaving the key in this position, you are disconnected from the ex- tension downstairs, so that you have complete privacy.” “Oh, quite,” Vance nodded with a faint smile. “I use the same sys- tem in my own apartment. Thanks awfully for your thoughtfulness . . . And now please join the others downstairs and try to keep things balanced for a little while—there's a good fellow.” Garden took his dismissal with good grace and went toward the door. “Oh, by the way, Garden,” Vance called after him, “I'll want a little chat with you in private, before long.” Garden turned, a troubled look on his face. “I suppose you'll be wanting me to rattle all the family skeletons for you? But that's all right. When press that buzzer on the He indicated a white push-button set flush in the center of a small “Rather Interesting, This Dis- array,” He Observed. square japanned box on the upright between two sections of the book- shelves. “That's part of the inter- communicating system between this room and the den. I'll see that the den door is left open, so that I can hear the buzz wherever I am.” Vance nodded curtly, and Garden, after a momentary hesitation, turned and went from the room. As soon as Garden could be heard making his way down the stairs, Vance closed the door and went im- mediately to the telephone. A mo- ment later he was speaking to Mark- ham. *“The galloping borses, old dear,” he said. “The Trojans are riding roughshod. Equanimity was need- ed, but came in too far behind. Re- sult, a murder. Young Swift is dead. And it was as clever a per- formance as I've yet seen . . . No. Markham,’ —his voice suddenly be- came grave—' I'm not spoofing. I think you'd better come immedi. ately. And notify Sergeant Heath, if you can reach him, and the medi- cal examiner.” He replaced the receiver slowly. “This is a subtle crime, Van,” he meditated. ‘““Too subtle for my peace of mind. I don't like it—I don’t at all like it. And I don't like this intrusion of horse-racing. Sheer expediency . . . ” He went thoughtfully to the north window and looked out on the gar- den. The rattan chair with its grue- some occupant could not be seen from the study, as it was far to the left of the window, near the west balustrade. “1 wonder . . .” He turned from the window abruptly and came back to the desk. “A few words with the colorless Garden are indicated, before the minions of the law arrive.” He placed his finger on the white button in the buzzer box and de- pressed it for a second. Then he went to the door and opened it. Several moments went by, but Gar- den did not appear, and Vance again pressed the button. After a full minute or two had passed without any response to his summons, Vance started down the passage- way to the stairs, beckoning me to follow, As he came to the vault door on the right, he halted abruptly. He scrutinized the heavy calamine door for a moment or two. At first glance it seemed to be closed tightly, but as I looked at it more closely, I noticed that it was open a fraction of an inch, as if the spring catch, which locked it automatical- ly, had failed to snap when the door had last been shut. Vance pushed on the door gently with the tips of his fingers, and it swung inward slowly and ponderously. “Deuced queer,” he commented. “A vault for preserving valuable documents—and the door unlocked. I wonder . . .» CHAPTER 1IV The lights from the halls shone into the dark recess of the vault, and as Vance pushed the door further inward a white cord hanging from a ceiling light became visible. To the end of this cord was attached a miniature brass pestle which acted as a weight. diately inside and jerked the cord, and the vault was flooded with light. “Vault' hardly describes this small storeroom, except that the walls were unusually thick, and it serve as a burglar proof repository. The room was about five by seven feet, and the ceiling was as high as that of the hallway. The walls were lined with deep shelves from floor to ceiling, and these were piled with all manner of papers, docu- ments, pamphlets, filing cases, and racks of test-tubes and vials labeled with mysterious symbols. Three of the shelves were devoted to a se- ries of sturdy steel cash and secur- ity boxes. The floor was overlaid with small squares of black and white ceramic tile. Although there was ample room for us both inside the vault, I re- mained in the hallway, watching Vance as he looked about him. Vance leaned over and picked up a batch of scattered typewritten pa- pers which had evidently been brushed down from one of the shelves directly opposite the door. empty space on the shelf “Rather interestin’, this array,” he observed. he professor was obviously not the last person in here, or he would certainly not have left his papers on the floor . " He wheeled about. “My word!” he exclaimed in a low tone. “These fallen papers and that unlatched door It could be, don't y' know.” There was a sup- pressed excitement in his manner. dis- knob." He knelt down on the tiled floor and began a close inspection of the smal! squares, as if he were count ing them. His action reminded me of the way he had inspected the tiling on the roof near the chair in which we had found young Swift. It occurred to me that he was seek- ing here what he had failed to find in the garden. “It should be here,” he mur- mured. “It would explain many things—it would form the first vague outline of a workable pattern . . ."” After searching about for a min- ute or two, he stopped abruptly and leaned forward eagerly. Then he took a small piece of paper from his pocket and adroitly flicked some- thing onto it from the floor. Fold: ing the paper carefully, he tucked it away in his waistcoat pocket. Al- though I was only a few feet from him and was looking directly at him, I could not see what it was that he had found. “I think that will be all for the moment,” he said, rising and pull ing the cord to extinguish the light. Coming out into the hallway, he closed the vault door by carefully grasping the shank of the knob. Then he moved swiftly down the passageway, stepped through the door to the garden, and went direct- ly to the dead man. Though his back was turned to me as he bent over the figure, I could see that he took the folded paper from his waist. coat pocket and opened it. He the chair. head emphatically, and rejoined me in the hallway. We descended the stairs to the apartment below. Just as we reached the lower hall, the front door opened and Cecil Kroon entered. He seemed surprised to find us in the hall, and asked somewhat vaguely, as he threw his hat on a bench: “Anything the matter?” Vance studied him sharply and made no answer; and Kroon went on: “I suppose the big race is over, damn it! Who won it—Equanimity?”’ Vance shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the other. “Azure Star won the race. I be- lieve Equanimity came in fifth or sixth.” “And did Woody go in on him up to the hilt, as he threatened?" Vance nodded. “I'm afraid he did.” “Good Gad!” Kroon caught his breath. “That's a blow for the chap. How's he taking it?” He looked away from Vance as if he would rather not hear the answer. “He's not taking it,” Vance re turned quietly. ‘He's dead.” (TO BE CONTINUED) AARARXRAR AAR RAR AAA A STAR DUST Movie « Radio * %%%k By VIRGINIA VALE kk% HE Women’s National Radio committee has named the Rudy Vallee hour as the best variety program on the air, and Bing Crosby’s loyal host of fol- lowers are so upset that letters of protest are pouring into radio stations and newspaper offices. Correspondents agree that the Val- lee program is always a grand show, X20 2 20 20 2 2 2 2 6 2 20 0 20 5 2 2 0 2 0 2% | i comedy and dramatic sketches. manne Flynn in Ireland to return to the studio at once to start work in a new picture, but the ca- as the adventurous Errol set out for Spain. First news from there was that he had been injured in a rebel attack and for a few hours groups of anxious friends stood discon- solately around the studio talking about what a grand guy he is. Nobody felt like working until the welcome news came that his injury was Errol Flynn to return soon. es As summer approaches and radio programs call it a season, radio singers look wistfully toward the big rewards of Hollywood engage- ments. Two who have already land- ed engagements are Jessica Drago- nette and Lanny Ross. Miss Drago- nette will appear in a Bobby Breen picture called “Make a Wish.” Lan- ny Ross will join the ever-growing ranks of Grand National company. Victor Schertzinger, who composed the never-to-be forgotten ‘“‘Mar- cheta' and who is a splendid direc- tor believes he has a story that will ranks of film idols. fo Being just the husband of a popu- lar Hollywood actress is no career for an ambitious young man, ac- cording to Leonard Penn, who left the New York stage to come to Hollywood with Gladys George, and George McDonald who left his news- paper job when he married Jean Parker. Penn is being tested by M-G-M, and George McDonald is being tested by Paramount. asa Gail Patrick, the only survivor at the Paramount studio among all the girls who won in their “Panther Woman" contest a few years ago, has at last attained real recognition. Not only will she be featured in “Artists and Models" with Jack Benny, she will get one of the best dressing rooms on the lot. It was built years ago for Pola Negri and was later occupied by Clara Bow. se Every time Sam Goldwyn spends a few days away from the studio, national fads and promptly ar- ranges to use them in pictures. Re- covering from a cold at Tucson, Arizona, a few days ago, he was impressed by a trailer camp. Promptly he bought a story called ‘“Heaven on Wheels” and cast Bar- bara Stanwyck for the lead. ay HERE was a lull in the mid-morning ac- tivities of the Chic Twins (in aprons this time) and their week - end guests when the candid camera caught this gay quartette. 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