Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Lulubelle's or the murderer's. From here .'he scene shifts to the uitra-modern crime- busting laboratory, where sleuthing is done by technology." Gloved hands dealt with the gun which was supposed to have ended the life of Lulubelle, bringing out fingerprints, and then a tumbler was treated. " Did the murderer take a drink to steel his courage?" asked the lieutenant. "He did!" A stereopticon was displayed and brought into use, and a picture of a finger- print was thrown upon a white wall in a darkened room. "Our students," explained the lieu- tenant, "take the print that has been found and enlarge it four hundred times. And the chance of that print being identical with anyone else's in the world, other than the man who left it, is one in sixteen trillion!" The last scene to be shown was of three men working at different benches, one stirring some mixture in a glass boiler, one covering a bitten apple with the mixture from the boiler, and the third breaking a cast and exhibiting a perfect impression of the teeth that had bitten the apple. The lieutenant's running commentary was: "Having gone thus far, how about the partly-eaten apple found in the room where the crime was committed? What's this? Do our students make apple sauce of it? No, indeed! Having found tooth- marks on the apple, they use moulage, a paste that hardens and makes a faithful reproduction of an object." That was the end of the film. The lec- ture hall became flooded with light, the curtains were drawn across the screen, and Lieutenant Digby moved forward to the edge of the platform. " "The leader of one gang mob was identi- fied by a moulage of his incisors," he stated impressively. "Perhaps the murderer of Lulubelle will be caught by so minute a clue as a cavity in his bicuspids. In any case, our men are trained to prove to the lawbreakers of to-day that they can't get away with it." The visitors applauded, the students began to troop out from the hall. Danny said across Kathleen to Bill Dugan: "Very instructive, don't you think. Captain?" There was no reply to that piece of impishness, unless a blank stare could be so called, and Danny turned to the girl. " Have you anyone to show you through the school?" he asked. "I don't think I'd care to " she began. "Weil, you should keep your mind open to both sides of an argument. Let ine show you how we're progressing with some of our new experiments." Lieutenant Digby was advancing towards Dugan, and Dugan rose to join him. Kathleen smiled indulgently. "If you put it that v;ay," she said "J can't turn you down.' She went off with Danny I'pon a tour of the college. Other visitors were being shown round by other students, though few of the other students were as thorough —or as enthusiastic—as her guide. The laboratory was left till last, and there she became really fascinated by the things she saw. She looked ac some dust through a microscope and ,vas amazed to learn that apparent shreds of rope, amongst the dust that was magnified to the size of gravel, were actually threads from a tweed jacket. She was initiated into the mysteries of alembics.and retorts. She looked into a polariscope; she was shown how a micro-photograph was taken. There were quite a lot of people in the laboratory, but Danny had eyes only for her. "What do you think of it?" he asked. "Marvellous!" she declared. And then, as she saw her uncle walking in at the doorway with the Lieutenant, her blue eyes twinkled and she said: "But what will Captain Dugan think of it?" "Him?" returned Danny contemp- Novciiilicr nth. 103'J. BOY'S CINEMA tuously. "He's probably dizzy already from trying to understand half the stuff in this building.' " You don't think much of old-fashioned cops like him?" "Why should I?" She laughed, and that made him look at her sharply. "Say, why all the interest in him?" he questioned. " He's not your father, is he?" "No," she replied with a shake of her head, "he's not my father." "Good. For a minute I thought I was putting my foot in it." "You were,' she informed him. "He's my uncle!" "Your uncle?" he echoed wryly. "And for the last half-hour you've been letting me shoot off my mouth "' "How do you do. Miss Burke?" inter- rupted a voice, and Kathleen looked up from a six-gun of remarkable pattern to see Lieutenant Digby and her uncle on the other side of the bench at which she and Danny were standing. "Hallo, Lieutenant," .she greeted. "Oh, Uncle Bill, this is Dan Blake. You remember him?" "Oh, yes," said Du**can dryly, "he's the boy that expects to catch crooks with scientific detection." "Well, it's better than not catching 'em at all," Danny retorted. Dugan winced. The Lieutenant snapped:' "That's enough. Blake!" "Never mind. Matt," said Dugan. "I'm sorry, sir," murmured Danny penitently. "Come on, Kathleen." Dugan moved towards the doorway. "Oh, goodbye," she said hurriedly to Danny, "and thanks for showing me through the school. It was very enlight- ening." She caught up v/ith her uncle, and Danny's gaze was concentrated upon her as they made their way past various groups of visitors and students. "About your assignment, Blake." said the Lieutenant. "Do you want a spot near your Jiome?" Danny was quite oblivious. "Blake!" barked the Lieutenant. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir." Panny tore his gaze from the girl who had played havoc with his heart. "I didn't hear you." "I said do you want to be assigned to any particular precinct?' "Yes, sir," replied Danny promptly, "the Fourteenth.' A MIXED RECEPTION A MONTH after Kathleen had visited the Police College, Danny walked along the West Thirtieth Street in his uniform, carrying a suitcase, and reached the police station there. He saw a squad car, parked at the kerb, and he saw two patrolmen mount the steps and enter the building. He followed the patrolmen into a wide stone corridor and turned left into the charge room. A prainclothes officer of fierce aspect was talking to a mean-faced little fellow who v/as sitting on a bench beside a policeman. "You oughta be ashamed of yourself," he said derisively, " trying to pick a detec- tive's pocket! What's the idea?" "Well, I didn't know him," wailed the prisoner. "I'm a stranger." A very bulky desk-sergeant looked Danny up and down. "What's the matter, patrolman—lost?" he demanded grufHy. "No, sir," Danny replied. "I've been assigned to this precinct." "Another rookie for you. Grazzi," said the desk-sergeant to the plainclothes man, who did not look nearly as Italian as his name, and Danny resented the tone in which the statement was made. "Anything wrong with that?" he challenged. "No," drawled the desk-sergeant. "Oh, no. We like rookies." "Yeah,"' said Grazzi,'and touched the Every Tuesday brim of his hat. "Can I help you carry your suitcase?" "No." snapped Danny. "You just con- centrate on the pickpockets. I'll handle the big cases." A white-haired patrolman, heavy of build, Irish of appearance, Irish of parent- age, and Irish of name—Mike Casey^ liked the general set-up of the new recruit and saw no reason why he should be baited. "Nice work, kid," he sa;id, and pointed to a glass-panelled door. "There's the Captain's office. Go right in." "Thanks, Mr. " "Casey," supplied the old patrolman, "Just call me Casey. And if these low- brows pick on you, just let me know." "Don't worry," gritted Danny, "I can take care of myself." Watched by all the officers in the room, Danny went to the door and knocked on its panel. A voice from within shouted to him to enter and he obeyed. Captain Bill Dugan was busy writing at his desk and did not look up. The suitcase was deposited on the floor, and Danny said: "Captain Dugan." "Yes?" Dugan went on v/riting. "I've just been assigned to this precinct.' The Captain looked up at last, and he scowled. "Well, well," he said disgustedly, "looks like I've got the pick of the crop! Did you bring your microscope and test-tubes and all your other stuff?" "Yes. sir."' Danny pointed to the suit- case. "Right here." "Good." Dugan leaned back in his chair. "Then we'll have to make your first assignment a specially good one." "I'd appreciate that," said Danny. "I'm sure you will. Report to Sergeant Prawley in the locker room." "Yes, sir." "That's all." Danny went out with his suitcase and closed the door behind him. Dugan immediately spoke into the telephone on his desk. "Hallc^ Pat?" he said into it. "I'm sending you down a nice fresh rookie." Murphy, the desk-sergeant, directed Danny to the locker room, which was in the basement. Several men were in it, some of them half-dressed because they had finished their duties and were changing their clothes. One of them was shaving. Sergeant Patrick Frawley, a big fellow with a wide face and a pimply nose. wa.s seated behind a desk. Grazzi was leaning against one of a long row of tall steel lockers, and Mike Casey was sitting in a chair minus his tunic. "Aha!" exclaimed Grazzi dramatically as Danny entered. "Hawkshaw the detective!" "Aw, lay off the kid," growled Casey. Danny walked over to him. "Can you tell me where Sergeant Frawley is?" he inquired. "Sure." Casey indicated the desk. "Right over there." Danny thanked him and went to the de.sk. "Er—Sergeant,"' he said. "I'm Danny Blake. Glad to meet you." "Yeah?" Frawley ignored an extended hand. " I've heard a lot about you. We've been waiting for you." "You have?" asked Danny innocently. "Yeah. There's a lot of unsolved jewel robberies in this territory." "Yes, I know,' nodded Danny. "That's why I brought my paraphernalia. I've got my microscope, and my latent fingei'- printing outfit, and " "All right," Frawley broke in. "Take locker twelve. I'll let you know when you go on duty." With all eyes upon him Danny returned to the row of steel lockers. Casey pointed out No. 12 to him, and he opened its narrow door, opened the suitcase, and began to transfer his scientific treasures