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By BUD FISHER
AH, NOW
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AI WAS BUT I TURNED AROUND
# THE BRE#28 · * LIGHT MY PIPIE AND I FORGOT TO TURN BACK AGAIN!
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THE DAILY SHORT STORY.
CAUSE FOR MURDER
Andrew Randall's death was, ob-lfectly good afternoon. But that after- viously, suicide. Captain Van Ness of noon a ship caught fire at sea and I the homicide squad went down to in- was sent up to Provincetown, where the vestigate," though he admitted the in- survivors "had landed, to interview vestigation was merely in the line of everyone I could get hold of. I stayed routine duty. I went with him, though there three days and then received a I had a feeling it was waste of time. wire to get down to Miami to cover the "You can't make a murder out of this air races. So it was more than two one," I grumbled, "Come on home, weeks before I returned to New York. We're wasting each other's time." The day after my arrival I dropped in
Van grinned maliciously. We had on Van driven out in a police car and the only way I could get back was in the same "We've got the killer!"
He looked brighter and satisfied. "About the Randall murder,” he said.
car, and he knew it.
I stared blankly. Then suddenly 1 "Keep your shirt on, scribe. Let's remembered. "That wasn't a murder. look around the joint. I've always It was a suicide. What do you mean wanted to see what a millionaire's home you've got the killer?"
looked like."
"Barry-Roister-from-Michigan. Re- "You're still wasting time. Randall member? The nephew by marriage. was just $999,999 short of being a mil- He did it."- lionaire."
"Now look, Van," I said. "Stop talk- This was true. Once a prominent ing in bunches. member of the upper brackets of 80- Roister want to kill penniless old Andy Why would "Barry ciety and finance, Andrew Randall's Randall?"
too
fortune had dwindled steadily for the "Because of the paintings. You re- past dozen years. A dozen years ago member those three paintings we saw he had retired from active busl- in the drawing-room?" nesa. This was I mistake, be. "I remember that they weren't any- cause he WAS
young to retire. thing to kill an old man over." And so, to satisfy the energy that no "Hal" said Van. "You longer had an outlet, he amused him- men! Never get behind the news. Too newspaper self by engaging in wild cat schemes, superficial. I suppose you never heard He worked on the theory that if a man of Caleb Trask?"
were smart enough he could outscheme "No. I never heard of Caleb Trask." the schemers, and there would be a lot "Well, he's an artist. Pretty good of satisfaction in doing it.
too. He painted those oils. They sold But he figured wrong. The main for about fifty dollars trouble was that Andrew, Randall had Caleb died.
each. Then What always happens.
By James Freeman
The
been 'smart in an honest way. He when a fairly good artist dies? couldn't cope with smart men who were price of his paintings hits the sky, dishonest, and little by little the schem- Caleb Trask lived in Michigan, and ers began transferring the Randall Roister, being an art connoisseur and fortune to their own pockets. And knowing his distant uncle owned the pretty soon it was all gone. Even the paintings, began to think. house was tibrtgaged.
So the achammers, lost interest in An-
"Ah!"
drew Randall, and Andrew lost interest "Ahl is right. To Roister it looked in life, and now he was dead--poisoned, like a set-up. Uncle Andy had every "Who going to inherit this bunch reason to commit suicide and who of debtanked Van, as we moved would ever suspect a distant nephew fromane silent zoom to the next; living in Michigan who would only in-
“As far as I can figure there's only herit a bunch of debts? one living relative. A youngster nam- ed Barry Bolster. A nephew by mar-
"So Roister made a quick and mur- riage. He lives in Michigan:”
derous trip to Uncle Andy's and then "Ahf1 cried brightly. "A murder returned to Michigan, And when he prospect! Now what could the motive was advised he had inherited a lot of debts he came back and save his uncle
Van grinned again. He didn't mind a decent burial and took the paintings my kidding. Half the time he turned And a week and a half later I read in and left everything else for the debts. things inside-out, fixing it to make me look like a lug who talked too much the papers where the Trask oils had This time I had him, and I laid it on sold for $50,000 each." Van sighed and thick
grinned: "What a pity you newspaper The drawing room of the old house men don't try to get behind the news.” contained three fairly good oil paint- "What a pity," I snapped, "that you ings. There was some silver and a few had to read in the newspapers about antique pieces and a carvin the garage.
the paintings being sold." Otherwise, young Mr. Barry Roister of Michigan was going to find it hardly Worth his rhile to make the trip to New York to collect his inheritance.
Outside: Van sighed desply: "What la-pityl There was a chance for a swell:
and?It turns out to be an onlinary suicide
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