Evening Star Newspaper, September 9, 1929, Page 21

ova THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., The Door of Death By John / . Esteven - (Copyright, 1929, North American J'mnlrir Alliance and Metropolitan N ice.) A ewepapér o SYNOPSIS. lis, wife of Prancis Ballion, is found murdered side. her body are a glove bearing her husband's initiais and a stran- £ling thong from his collection of ancient forture instruments. Norse, a Dolice of- ficial, quizzes Ballion. who denies his guilt, m, summoned Dr. Ames, who declared her to be in deadly fear of her husband Berv} torted bending down .and awoke in & cold sweat to the reality and solace of my own room. But, in view of this, Eleanor's courage seemed all the more distinguished. Norse, Ballion, and I had planned to motor out next morning together for the inquest, which had been set for 11 o'clock; but as Norse wanted some previous talk with Francis Ballion, we arranged to arrive at Greyhouse an s | hour and a half earlier.. Dr. Ame: gullt is clearly established. sufficiently to grant Francis Ballion The detective’s first words to Carl were a question, “Could you persuade m 2" iiberty until the coroner's jury has brought [ him? 1n its verdict. SEVENTH INSTALLMENT. OR the week end at Greyhouse I had freed myself from hospital and other engagements, so that I was at liberty to spend the day as I chose; and I confess it was spent partly in sleep. Naorse, as appeared later, was busy in finding out what he could with regard to Francis Rallion's financial affairs, checking up the past of Jacob Hasta and of others in the staff at Greyhouse; while Carl was engaged by the never-ceasing routine of his business. When I dined at my club that evening, I heard one of the older members, who had known Francis Ballion as a young man, dis- cussing him with gusto: and all he eaid confirmed my prejudice. “A gentleman,” declared the older member, “that 1s, in breeding. But a queer stick. Always had a devilish temper. Killed a man once with his bare hands—out West—about a woman. It was put down as self-defense and he got off. Lived free and wild and hard, for all his education. I wouldn't put this past him—if it's true.” I had already moved off. My mind | felt as a body does when it has been | overtried, sore and inert. I managed to find a corner to myself, and sat smoking. X Just about this time last night, Celia, Eleanor, and I had sat in semi-dark- ness before the fire in Greyhouse. Only 24 hours ago! It seemed incredible. I wondered how Eleanor was stand- ing the loneliness out there and the siege of memories. If they were grim enough for me, what must they be for her! That night in sleep I heard again | the howling of the wind, the hush of footsteps near the, saw a pale and di: The other shook his head, “No—he refused.” We drove for a while in silence. It was a bleak November day, with a hint of snow, and my hand felt stiff on the wheels. We were numb in spirits as well as physically, with small relish, at least on my part, for what we were about to face—all the less when Norse remarked at length: “If he holds by his decision, I'm afraid I can't do any more.” He alluded to thé Western affair, of which he also had heard, and added that Ballion's finances looked queer. ‘Perhaps I've been wrong,” he admitted. “Unless something occurs, I'll have to put him under arrest this morning.” So we entered the long drive that led up to Greyhouse. It appeared cold and palatial as ever, with its high stone facade. I was aware of several men on guard outside. Before going in Norse called to one, “Well, Roose, everything been all right?” “Yes, sir. No one has left the house and no one entered, except Mr. Carl Ballion last night. Redsby reports everything O. K. inside.” But, as it happened, this must have been an earlier statement, for when the | front door had been opened by Hasta we found Redsby standing in the hall, an anxious look on his face and star- | Paper ing at the closed doors of the library. Near him stood Eleanor Graham. “What's wrong?"” snapped Norse. “Nothing, I suppose, sir; but it's locked here and no one has seen Mr. Ballion this morning.” Norse gave a sharp exclamation. “But did he sleep in that room?” “Why,” interposed Carl, “when I left him at half-past eleven he said he in- tended to work there until late. And I told Lieut. Redsby that. He came on duty just as I was fiinl out.” “Your orders,” said Redsby, “were to disturb the family as little as possible. 1 slept for an hour or so on the divan over there; but I sleep like a cat. I don’t think he could have left the room without my hearing him.” 5 “But what are you waiting for now?" Norse. “Why don't you “We have, but they're double doors and soundproof.” “Right. I forgot. Well, then, get the Redsby threw a forlorn glance at Eleanor. “I'm afraid,” she said, and I could see by her eyes that she had slept little; “I'm afraid the keys are lost—those we used yesterday. I thought we had_ left them here on the table, but they're gone. I've looked everywhere.,” Her lips_ were trembling. “‘Open the doors without them,” com- manded Norse in a cold voice—the more expressionless because of excitement; “Get Roose to help you.” But even for experienced men the stout oak proved difficult. It required 10 minutes’ work before the inner door yielded and we pressed forward to the threshold. As we did so I saw Eleanor turn away and, sinking into a chair, cover her face with her hands. 1 understood now Ballion's request for 24 hours. He was not the man to let himself be taken or led here and there, subject to others. He was too proud for that. 1 remember wondering with a nervous tremor how we should find him, alone in the great, rich room filled with its treasures. Norse was in front of me. I saw him look right and left. I could feel his tenseness. Then he called suddenly. “Mr. Ballion!” We had entered now, and I looked to the left at a vacant desk, then to the right between book-shelves and armor. Norse crossed the room at a bound and gazed along the other alsle. We fol- lowed him. We here and there peering. forth and back. “By heaven,” cried Norse at length, “there's no one here. The room’s empty!” We all remained lost for a moment. Then, as my wits returned, I found I was staring at the narrow door in the angle of the wall, and there was pinned |against it a square, white sheet. I pointed, but Norse had already seen, and now stood in front of it. Despite his haste he detached the with instinctive attentiveness, and carried it over to the desk for bet- ter light. After a minute, he raised his face, white, it seemed to me, with a frozen anger, and beckoned us. “I was a fool,” he said between thin lips. “a blind theorist. You were right. T'll ask you, though, not to touch the paper until I've examined it.” Looking down, I saw a typewritten statement, as foliows: “To whom it may import: On the eve- ning of October 31, about 8 o' I entered Greyhouse secretly, and ha concealed myself until the hour of 1, killed my wife, Celia Ballion, by strang- ling. Awakened the light I turned on next to the , half rose, and s I stood behind her, there was no dif- cul‘tykx in placing the thong. She died quicl li. “T let myself out by the door upon which this will be fastened. I wish to unaided by any one. The loss of my. glove and the garrot, due to ‘b.mg ul‘;e ! I hi I.nhnlnl;ny n less, ave no (;t’umm mmhwwl'.homo(lu rare victims. I take, therefore, the oniy course remaining, and cross this threshold for the last time. As regards Celia, I have no other regret than my fallure. It is obvious to any unprej- udiced mind that strength must indifferent to ethics. “I address this statement partic- ularly to the attention of Capt. Norse, who ]wlu find in it, perhaps, a useful moral.” And the paper was signed: Francis Ballion. (To Be Continued.) I NOW—IT’S TIME FOR FELT HATS 11ll| —and we offer you the serv- t jces of the unexcelled Vogue ||| Cleaners. Ladies’ and Men's hats expertly cleaned and re- shaped—they'll look like you —and you'll be pleased. 75¢ Called for and Delivered S"?"‘ Iy —and _when you think of vour Fall and Winter clean- ing oive thought to the Vooue Cleaners’ message— “See our modern plant—its facilities and perfect work —| and you will use Vopue Clean- tng service esclusively. 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Special .. 5 { double and 52250 WoobpwarD & Femininity and Youth are responsible for these - New Fall Fabric Fashions 10™ 11™ Faxp G S Woolens by-the; Yard These 1929-30 fabric fashions are becoming lighter and suppler. retain a place of honor—jerseys are next in importance—all frock woolens are feminine enough (which really means light enough in weight) to flare and dchieve the “intricate.” Each woolen has a way of borrowing the nicest quality from its neighbor, so that if you cannot decide on one of them, you plan a combination of two. Tweeds Heavy Costings; glorious weaves, with clumps of eolor. $4.50 to $7.50 yard. Frock Tweeds; much lighter in weight, and with a newness of ¢olor which is sometimes in- troduced with embroidered motifs. $3 to $4.50 yard. Jerseys Close weaves; in plain colors and heather tweed _effects. $1.50 and $2 yard. Crepey Woolens Crepe Egypta; a _fine, very sheer wool crepe. Fall's smart colors. . $2 yard. 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Triangles, $1 to $5 Squares, $3 to $8.50 Oblongs, $3 to $10.50 NECKWEAR, Aisix 15 Fmst FLOOR. - New Patterns —from Vogue, McCall, Butterick and Paris Pattern Headquarters —are here with a gal- axy of new frock, coat and ensemble fashions that achieve the new 1929.30 Fall - Winter Silhouette. PaTTERNS, SEcoND FLOOR. | T'wo-piece Frock Buckles, $1 Special Selling The very special price in no way suggests the charm found in these new buckles. Innumerable styles bring smart creations that combine galalith and marcasite and nickel and galalith. ‘TriMMinGs, Aistz 20 Fst FLOOR. :