The stranger disapppearance of mary young

Contents

: THE UNKNOWN VICTIM

: Mrs EpGECOMB’S STORY

: THE ARREST

CHAPTER I Woodlawn Park

4 ers astounding crime that opened with the murder of an unidentified girl and closed with the pursuit of an unknown criminal across half the American continent had its beginnings at Woodlawn Park on a hot and busy Sunday night in the middle of August. Woodlawn Park is that type of resort to which the common people flock, but at which ‘blue-law’ advocates and reformers raise holy hands of horror. It is situated within the Philadelphia district, a blot upon the landscape of the main-line towns, whose citizens neither welcomed its foundation nor, from their haughty seclusion in mansion and garden, approve its continuance.

For it rears a network of amusements towering into the sky, foundations, roundabouts, switchback and many other constructions; and at best it presents no lovely sight, even in the evening, when lights illuminate every structure with gay and rakish effect. In addition, there is the noisy discord of chattering crowds and sounds which only politeness can term music. For the poorer classes it is undoubtedly a haven of refuge from the cares and responsibilities of the workaday world. Those whose existence is spent in cheerless factories at monotonous labour, the sailor on leave from the fleet, seeking recreation, the daylabourer and his family—all flock to the park with pleasure. All find forgetfulness and a fleeting enjoyment in the inviting amusements.

This particular Sunday night found the park at its most raucous. Great crowds stormed every divertissement, in long, twisting queues. The grounds were ablaze with brilliant and coloured lights. Vendors called their wares from stands located in every conceivable nook, their voices mingling with the laughter and murmur of the mob. The tinny sound of the roundabout’s music found visitors in a spending mood, and attracted its clientéle with ease. Above that clamour came the roar of the scenic railways, the “Lightning Glider,’ the “ Daredevil,’ and that newest addition to the park’s attractions, “‘ Thrills in the Dark.’”’ It grows to thunder as a car, after poising upon the brink of an incline, hurtles forward with increasing momentum into breakneck speed. And even that cannot drown the shrill, throaty screams of patrons enjoying vicariously thrills not part of their normal daily lives. .

To Peter Rawley, the brakesman at the end of the ride of “‘ Thrills in the Dark,” the repeated process of checking the momentum of the trains was quite tiresome. He acted automatically, aiding the riders from their seats and pushing the cars beyond the > paling to where the next eager batch of riders waited. Without conscious effort he called out : “Stay in your seats for the second ride. No waiting. Only ten cents.”” He was accustomed to seeing couples emerge from the darkness of the exciting ride with dishevelled hair or ruffled clothes; so much so that he failed to notice them. His elementary thoughts were far from his actual work. Even at the present moment the incident of assisting from the car a man whose girl was, however, taking another ride by herself made no particular impression. The escort paid for the extra ride by dropping the price into a slot-receiving machine, and passed through the gates. Rawley 10 wished the boss would move away, so that he could light his pipe. But Mr Alexander Simones, proprietor of the railway, knew his business too well to leave at this busy moment. Besides, it gave him a pleasant feeling to see the coins rolling into the little window at the entrance.

When the car emptied Rawley pushed it forward; in a trice it was filled again and shoved off, to enter the blackness of the tunnel which covered the entire route. In three minutes it would be back again, and the riders would have little or nothing for their money. But they always came back for more. If he possessed what was taken on one Sunday night he’d be able to quit work for several months at least. And then there was that girl behind the ticket-office of the “ Jigsaw.” She was good-looking, and most likely enjoyed a good time. What was her name? Mamie Saule. He’d speak to her that very evening after

The return of the cars interrupted his train of thought for the instant. They came shooting out of the darkness, to a screeching stop as he applied the brakes. Realizing that the boss was watching him closely at the moment, he turned his attention to the ' passengers. Blinking and shouting, some with streaming hair, they were already leaping agilely out; some were shoving down toward the exit. He gave the usual announcement as to second rides, with the same monotonous tone as: always, and noting that a woman seated on the first seat of the first car had made no motion to get out he turned toward her.

She was sitting in an oddly slumped position, as though asleep; her head was lowered, so that her chin was resting upon her chest. Her hands were extended and folded in orderly fashion upon her lap, and held a handbag loosely in them. She looked neither up nor to either side, but maintained her pose with a strange rigidity.

Tr

JHE STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OF MARY YOUNG

‘Another ride, miss?’ asked the brakesman. ‘Only ten cents.”

There was no reply, nor did she move an inch. What was the matter with her, he wondered.

“End of the ride,’ he announced, with growing impatience. :

Still his words brought no results. He realized something was wrong, but could not tell what it was. Probably it was some ‘drunk,’ though how she had ever got on in the first place puzzled him. He would have to take drastic measures. The people surging on their way to the opening halted at the first hint of the unusual, to watch the proceedings with curiosity and interest.

“Hey, there! Get a move on!”’ yelled the proprietor sharply from the cashier’s box. “‘What on earth’s the matter with you? Are you “

Mr Alexander Simones never finished his sentence. At that instant Rawley leaned over and seized the girl’s arm. At the same instant he was aware of a creeping chill that sinuously moved through him and caused him to shiver with a fear he did not understand. Disturbed by his movement, the scarf that was tightly wrapped about the girl, as if to protect her from the night air, became loose. As by the power of an unseen hand, it partially unwound itself, and as it unwound it revealed her blouse beneath. It was a blouse dabbled in red—upon which a hideous red stain was ever spreading and widening, growing until it covered the entire left breast !

The brakesman gave vent to an uncontrollable cry. From where he stood Simones also saw the red stain. His eyes bulged, first in surprise and then in horror. His face went white, with a sudden strained look. The staring crowd, who had expected to view some amusement, also saw. They stood in a rooted, dreadful silence as a shudder seemed to run through them. Then a girl spectator screamed hysterically, 12 and, with some indistinguishable remark, fainted. Her escort barely caught her, and gently eased her against the railing. Some man also cried out in terror, and the tension was broken.

In the very instant a crowd began to gather outside the rail. Drawn by the sudden screams, they collected in an amazingly short time. From all corners of the park, from the walks and the pavilions, they poured forth, to crowd about the “Thrills in the Dark,” to push upon one another and view the attraction. And with them came the nearest two park policemen.

The proprietor broke the spell and moved forward toward the dazed brakesman. He could think of nothing appropriate to say.

““ What’s the matter with her?’’ he inquired hoarsely. ‘Is she hurt?”

Before his employee had sufficiently recovered from the shock to reply the policemen pushed their way through the assembly to the platform. They had drawn their clubs in case it should turn out to be a mere brawl, and their whistles were ready to summon assistance if any were needed.

“What’s going on here?’’ demanded the stouter one, Donahue, as they broke into the open.

Then they too caught sight of that amazing tableau under the arc lights of the platform, and they stopped in alarm. The scarf of the girl had slipped completely off, and she seemed to have slumped forward more in her seat. Though both had had many experiences in their lives in the Force, neither had ever come upon so serious or surprising a situation before. And for the instant they were stumped.

Constable Donahue was the first to recover, and his natural confidence and ability, born of many years of service, swiftly reasserted themselves. He turned to his companion.

“This looks pretty bad, Mike; too much for us to handle. Better get Headquartersin ahurry. And the park doctor too—you know where to findhim. Though I’m afraid it’s all over with her.”

Mike nodded and hastened away; the crowd, strangely awed and silent, parted respectfully to make a lane for him. Not far distant came the jangling discord of the merry-go-round ; for once its noise did not sound attractive.

Donahue turned to view the body. He realized that nothing must be changed or touched, so that the Central man, when he arrived, would find the situation as it originally was. Privately he hoped that the man would arrive soon and take the responsibility off his hands. He turned to Rawley.

“Here, you,” he commanded authoritatively, “shut that gate over there,” pointing to the exit gate. “‘ You people will have to stay here for a while—all of you that just got off.”

The brakesman hastened to obey in a scrambling manner, and the constable, disregarding the murmur of protest that rose behind him, walked over to the car.

“Here, somebody help me detach this car and move it to the siding switch; it’ll be out of the way there.” He glanced through the spectators within the cage. “You, there, and you—you'll do.”

The two men designated left their partners and joined him. In an instant the car with the body was uncoupled from the other two that had come along with it and shoved over. The proprietor hovered about them nervously as they accomplished the task, and constantly wiped his face with a handkerchief, When it was finished he looked desirous of speaking, but the policeman spoke first :

“Now, Simones, let’s have it. What happened here? What do you know about this ?”’

“I?” replied the proprietor, with a slight accent that speedily revealed his Grecian origin. ‘‘ Nothing at all. Can you imagine this happening on a Sunday night? It’llruinme. My business wi *

“Never mind that now,” interrupted Donahue, sharply. For at this moment his colleague returned with the park doctor—an official whose services were often in demand on busy nights, but seldom for such a matter as this. It was evident that Mike had already explained some of the situation to him, for he went straight to his business, without a question or pause. And Donahue addressed the other :

“Did you get Headquarters ?”’

“Yes ; they’re sending some one right down.”

It was a hot night, and when the ’phone rang Headquarters was particularly drowsy, for thus far there had been very little doing. The officer in charge came quickly enough to life, however, on learning what had occurred, and switched the speaker to the Central Detective Bureau.

Lieutenant Thomas, who was on duty, had difficulty in getting the bare facts straight, for Mike, at the other end of the wire, was excited, and had not the selfcontrol of his associate. Thomas, a stout, burly fellow whom years of experience had so inured to all surprises that many people thought him cold-blooded, quieted him down.

“Now,” he said calmly, “‘ just go easy and let’s get this straight. You say a girl has been hurt? Is she badly hurt or not?”

Mike didn’t know; he replied that he was just going for the doctor, but that it looked quite serious to him. There was much blood on the wound.

“All right. Just hold on for a few minutes, and we'll have some one there in a jiffy. It looks to me like a job for the Homicide Squad.’”’ And with that Thomas rang off. The details were none of his business; they were up to the man he sent out there. He considered that Tommy Rankin was a good one for it; it didn’t look too important. Probably a killing in some sort of fight, he decided; and, besides having some cleverness, Rankin knew his crooks and his underworld. There were always killings that involved gang feuds. And Tommy wasn’t busy on anything else just then. While he waited for telephone connexions Thomas recalled how the detective had broken up the Curtis gang which had terrorized the city a few years before; and how, later, he had caught the notorious forger Penrhyn.

‘‘Good enough chap,” he mused, “and young. Barely thirty, I'll bet.”

The click of the telephone informed him that his connexions were complete. He heard a voice which he instantly recognized.

‘“‘Thomas speaking,” said the lieutenant succinctly. ““A call from Woodlawn Park; a girl stabbed down there. Go and make the usual report. And, by the way, you can take Bill along if you want to.”’

This last was added as an afterthought on Thomas’s part, and was meant as a joke. For he knew Rankin well enough to be aware that he always worked alone. It was one of his peculiarities that he never combined with anyone in his investigations. He had never had a colleague ; even the routine business he did himself. “‘Solo” Tommy, some wit of the Force had once called him, and the appellation was a suitable one. He often said that he was sure of thoroughness only because nN trusted no one else to do what was, rightly, his

uty.

The case Thomas thus briefly outlined over the *phone did not promise much, but it was all in the routine. Rankin recognized the quip of his superior, but rang off without replying. He set out at once, assuring himself on the way that his notebook was in his pocket. That was the single bit of equipment without which he could not do. For his other peculiarity—and he had only these two—was his writing down of everything that occurred. He did not trust his memory; if a thought came into his mind that might be of value he put it down, lest it should slip from I him and later be unrecallable. He even reasoned on paper; his deductions, his conclusions, his actual logic were all to be found in black and white within the pages of his precious book. And already he was preparing to store his first impressions there.

Rankin’s arrival coincided with the close of the doctor’s examination. The same curious, gaping crowds outside the enclosure made way for him; no one had left, for all were getting a ghoulish satisfaction from being witnesses of the tragedy. Nevertheless, the sudden transition from merriment to fatality effectively damped their spirits. Several more park constables were handling them and preventing them from pressing too close to the fence.

Within the platform, however, the spectators were ‘becoming restless. Several expressed their desire to leave in audible terms, among them the young man whose partner had fainted. Willing hands and a glass of water had brought her to speedily enough, but she leaned tremblingly against the rail, with her escort doing his best to soothe her.

“That’s all right,” the guardian Mike told several. “There ain’t goin’ to be anybody leaving till the Central man gets here and says it’s all right.”

Rankin broke through, and instinctively turned to Donahue as the most sensible man of the crowd. The latter recognized in him the air of authority of the Force, and stepped up with a salute.

““My name’s Donahue, sir.”

“Right, Donahue. I’m Rankin.”” Out came the notebook, and his eyes swept the entire scene briefly. He saw in that glance the car, and the body, under the arc lights, the doctor, just rising from his examination, though his back was still turned, and the trembling brakesman. ‘‘Let’s have the whole thing in a few words.”

“Well, sir, I haven’t found out much, to tell the truth. I’ve been waiting for you. From what I can see, the car came from the ride through the tunnel, and the girl there was in it, dead. And that’s about all.”

“You mean the girl was killed there, in that car?” There was incredulity in the detective’s voice.

“Yes, sir,’ replied the officer. “I haven't. done anything yet in the way of questioning. I got in the doctor, and sent Mike, over there, to get Headquarters, as well as get in touch with the morgue people.”

“Well, I’ll be damned!”’ Rankin had heard of peculiar places in which tragedies had occurred; he recalled the case in which a body was found cramped up in an unlighted oven; and he remembered that in the Pleasance crime the victim had been discovered in a main-line pipe. But this was more unusual than any of them. It stimulated his interest and made him think it wasn’t going to be the commonplace case he first feared. Perhaps there was more in it than met the eye.

“Those people there,’’ the officer continued, “‘in the enclosure, were the ones that came in on this ride. We’ve been holding them for you, and you may be sure no one slipped out. And I had the car moved over there, so it would be out of the way. But nothing has been touched, except by the doctor.”’

“Good work.” The other nodded his head in commendation. “‘Who made the discovery, Donahue?”’

“One of them two over there.’ The policeman pointed toward the proprietor and his employee. “That’s Mr Simones—he’s the boss of this shebang ; and the other’s the brakesman. I haven’t been able to find out much, but I guess all these people saw it at the same time.”’ ’

_ “Tsee.” Rankin noticed that the doctor was standing in some indecision, waiting to speak to him. He was a grey-haired, wizened man in spectacles, and he nervously fingered his medical bag.

e Yes, doctor—er———”’

I

“Fisher,” the physician supplied in a piping tone.

“Glad to know you.’”’ He was succinct in his reply. ““What’s the result?”

“It’s comparatively simple, actually. The woman is dead—has been dead now for more than twenty minutes, I suppose. A young woman she is—I should say not much over twenty-one, if that. She was stabbed with a longish narrow blade, perhaps five inches long, in the heart—in the very apex of the heart. Viewing it from the medical standpoint, I should say it was a beautiful blow, and whoever did it knew his business. It penetrated between the fifth and sixth ribs, exactly.”

“‘Does that mean that death was immediate ?”’

“Practically,” came the answer. ‘Hardly more than a minute could have elapsed, anyway, for it was a clean-cut stab. The body was still quite warm when I arrived.”

The detective nodded his understanding. He thought a moment before asking the next question.

““ How long ago were you called in?”’

“Well, I was in my rooms, down near the pond, when this officer they call Mike came to inform me of the affair. He said he came straight down, except to get you, and that the accident—or whatever it was—had just occurred. That was at exactly ten minutes after ten. And it hardly took ten minutes to get me.”

“In other words, supposing that the discovery was made almost at once, that would place the crime at approximately ten o’clock, would it not?”

“‘T suppose it would.”

“T’ll have to look into that.” Rankin glanced at his watch and returned it to his pocket. ‘And it’s now a good deal after ten-thirty. I’ve gotten an early start, at that. Have you got the weapon, Dr Fisher? ”’

‘No, I haven’t. It isn’t there, in fact. Naturally the woman has been bleeding much on that account.

Ordinarily, after such a blow, the body would slump down, if seated; but the girl seems to have been fairly well placed in an upright position, so that if the wound were invisible things would appear fairly normal.” The medical man paused, and then added in a stern tone, incongruous with his treble voice: “It’s rather horrible to think that some one could have carried out a crime like this, and then paused to rearrange things the way it has been done. He deserves little mercy, whoever he is.”

The detective wrinkled his forehead in the seriousness of thought. It was undoubtedly a grave case, whatever the facts behind it were. There was an air of long, thoughtful premeditation about it. But why should the crime, if such it were, have been committed on a scenic railway? That was the amazing thing— why a scenic railway? The chance the criminal took —the danger of it! He must have been a fool. And yet, was the criminal such a fool after all?

He looked about him. In the distance amusements were still continuing in full blast, unconcerned with the tragedy that had occurred in this one. People were still enjoying themselves elsewhere, every one with

es own crowd, taking no notice of other groups. '..Each appeared to be self-sufficient. It is often said “that the safest place to commit a crime is in a large crowd. Every one is so engrossed with his own affairs that he has no time to see other people. The natural selfishness of mankind makes each individual oblivious, in a large measure, of the difficulties of strangers. Where better can a hunted criminal hide than among many people? Where better can he commit a crime than in the same crowd? It would

be a simple matter to stab——

Rankin realized he had no business to be racing ahead of his information and forming preconceived notions that would be difficult to obliterate. He would have to take things in logical order, and work out the 20 possibilities from his discoveries. And the first thing would be to look at the victim of the affair—at least make some sort of perfunctory examination upon which he could improve later.

He looked up, nodding at the doctor’s last remark.

“He won’t get much mercy if we catch him,” he replied, with a steely quality in his words. “Let’s have a look at the girl before we go any further.”

CHAPTER II‘ The Unknown Victim

OMMY RANKIN was no amateur at the detective 1] caaeks despite his youthful age and appearance, At twenty-nine he had gained much knowledge of the criminal classes, to which he had pledged a lasting enmity. He had started with the Force at the minimum age, and in the ensuing period had gained quite a reputation for himself, particularly with regard to his ability to track fugitives from justice. He knew his underworld perfectly—the various gangs who combated the law, and the chief haunts of the hunted ; and among them he had gained a name for square dealing and fair shooting, so that all were sure of straight treatment at his hands.

He was of medium size and weight, tipping the scales at a hundred and sixty. He was conceded by many to be rather good-looking, which fact did not make him especially vain. He had dark, piercing eyes, which were the most alive part of him, for ever darting keenly and studying people; and his thin lips were generally set together. Of fair skin, he had dark brown hair, which curled up in irritating knots. His entire pose was one of alertness and comprehension.

The detective was capable of no Sherlockian brilliance. His investigations were carried on by common sense and perseverance, so that he succeeded by sheer doggedness where others failed. He had his own share of mental ability, which enabled him to deduce meanings from his discoveries and reason logically to correct 22

THE UNKNOWN VICTIM conclusions. But his capacities left him a rather serious-minded young man, with small imagination in other directions, and little sense of humour. He was typically a clever, ambitious worker who gave all his attention to his occupation.

As Rankin approached the siding in company with Dr Fisher he reflected upon this strange case to which he had been assigned. A girl killed on a scenic railway! How—and by whom? He could see the bulk of the body, which the physician had mercifully concealed with some handy covering, to shut out the view from gaping, merely curious eyes. He lifted it without hesitation, for it was no time for squeamishness. The sight that met his eyes astonished him greatly.

He had expected to see a girl of the type who might be driftwood upon humanity—upon whom was written the stamp of a fast, hard life, with much of its ugliness and squalor. It was that type which usually incurred enmities resulting in such tragedies as this. Instead, he looked into the face of a girl whose youth and innocence were apparent even in death. Her features were finely moulded and bore all the indications of genuine intelligence; her perfectly straight nose was finely shaped and pointed, so that in profile it would have appeared clean-cut. Her lips, untouched by paint, indicated humour and graciousness; it would have been wonderful to see them curve up in a smile. Her chin was small, and delicately curved away to a white neck. She had fine brown hair; her eyes, partially opened, were grey, and, leaning forward, he thought he could detect in them, under the bright lights, a look of surprise.

Clearly she was beautiful—death could not rob her of that ; clearly she was refined and genteel. Ifnothing else indicated that, her fine, tapering fingers and soft hands, untouched by sores or abrasions, were sufficient evidence.

She was clad in a light summer frock of inexpensive material—a prettily patterned cotton cloth of some sort. It was the kind of dress a working-girl might wear on an outing—neat and attractive, but not costly. Neither were her shoes nor hose costly. That was not in keeping, however, with the type of girl she appeared to be, and it was an incongruity that subconsciously worried the detective. The scarf she wore, now so miserably discoloured, completed her attire ; but he saw that whereas most of her garments were cheap this last item was of the most expensive and finest silk, and magnificently embroidered. The thought flashed through Rankin’s mind that the combination was at least peculiar; for.if her clothes were her normal type of dress, how could she afford such a scarf? He quickly dismissed it, however, for girls in these days, no matter what their circumstances, mysteriously manage to possess some fineries.

He bent over and gently disengaged the girl’s hands from her handbag, on her lap, pocketing it for later scrutiny.

Bending forward for an examination of the wound, he saw, as the doctor had pointed out, that it was a deep, sharp incision. It had stopped bleeding, however, and the medical man had managed to clear away much of the unpleasant outflow.

“Do you think it could have been suicide?”’ This was purely a routine question. He had himself no such belief.

Dr Fisher looked astonished at the query; evidently the idea had never entered his mind.

“Yes,” he replied, after a moment’s thought, “it could have been, certainly, for it is a direct front stab; but it’s hardly probable, is it? Why should she pick out this of all places to kill herself? Of course, that’s hardly in my province; but then, where is the knife ?”’

“Couldn’t it have fallen out 2?”

“No; that would be impossible. The blow is a 24

THE UNKNOWN VICTIM happened. I understand you found the body. Is that right ?”’

“Yes, sir, but I don’t know anything about it. I never saw the girl before in my life.”’

“Nobody said you did, Rawley. But exactly what did you see ?”’

The brakesman looked his surprise at the question.

“Me? I didn’t see anything at all. Why, the girl was just sittin’ there, and when she didn’t get off it comes to me she was some ‘ drunk,’ so I started to help her out.”

The detective saw that he would have to be patient. Here was a one-track mind that would never lead, but merely follow.

“She was all right when she got on, wasn’t she? You didn’t notice anything wrong then? ”’

“No, I didn’t. Why should I notice anything at all? They’re all alike—the people that gets on here.” His tone bore witness to his disgust for the position.

“See, I told you he was a loafer.’”’ The proprietor could not resist interjecting this remark.

“Was she alone when she got on? ”’ persisted Rankin. “Wasn’t there anyone with her?’’ The crime would have been impossible unless she had had a companion, but thus far, unless he proved to be the burly individual, none had appeared.

The brakesman looked puzzled at the query; and it was almost a minute before he finally replied:

“Well, there wasn’t anybody got off that seat there when the car came around. I’m sure of that.”

‘‘How can you be so sure if you weren’t paying attention? ”’

“Well, I saw the boss looking then, so I watched the car. Some folks were just stepping out, and the first thing I saw was this here woman. She wasn’t moving. But I’d swear to it no one had a chance to slip from that seat before that.”’