Who Killed Charmian Karslake? by Annie Haynes

calls it. She told me handles had gone out of fashion, the other day.”
    â€œSo have brains, I should imagine,” grumbled the inspector.
    He was standing before Miss Karslake’s nearly empty dressing-bag. Celeste had taken out most of the actress’s belongings. At the bottom of the bag was the usual debris of papers. The inspector went on his knees and picked out the only thing with writing on. But there were no notes that appeared to be of the slightest value. A bill or two, a couple of receipts, a pencilled line from the manager of the Golden, torn-up scraps out of which the inspector and Harbord could make nothing. Then just as they were clearing out the last the inspector bent down with a sharp exclamation:
    â€œWhat is this?”
    Harbord stopped beside him. The inspector held the paper towards him.
    â€œLook at this.”
    Harbord looked. The paper appeared to have been torn out of some book. On it had been scrawled over and over again in a bold characteristic writing: “Paula Galbraith Paula Galbraith.”
    â€œWhat does this mean?” the inspector said, staring at it. “Paula Galbraith. Has Miss Karslake met her before? If it had been the other girl, the American – Mrs. Richard Penn-Moreton – I shouldn’t have been surprised. But Paula Galbraith. How could the two have come across one another? Well, that is another question we have to find the answer to.”
    â€œAnother?” Harbord repeated, raising his eyebrows.
    â€œWhy did Charmian Karslake come down to Hepton?” the inspector went on. “Not, I think, because she had taken a fancy to Lady Moreton, and the latter sent her an invitation to the dance.”
    â€œYou think she had some private reason for wishing to come to the Abbey?”
    The inspector nodded. “As far as I can see it is perfectly obvious that she had. It is our job now to find out what that reason was. Another question that will suggest itself to my mind is, Was Charmian Karslake really an American, or was she an English girl who, making name and fortune in America, had some motive for throwing off her nationality and taking on that of the United States?”
    Harbord looked at him. “What motive could she have had?”
    The inspector shrugged his shoulders. “That we have to find out.
    â€œThat is the box the maid spoke of.”
    He pointed to a small morocco case standing on a little table with one or two other belongings of Miss Karslake’s.
    â€œWe had better see if the money is intact as far as we can.”
    The little lock, which Charmian Karslake probably thought absolutely safe, was soon opened. The inspector felt in his pocket and produced a curious looking little instrument. He applied this to the lock and in a minute the morocco case lay open before him – open, but empty! Of the notes of which Celeste had spoken there was no sign.
    â€œH’m! what do you make of that?” the inspector said, glancing at his assistant.
    Harbord did not speak for a minute, then he said slowly:
    â€œI imagine Miss Karslake took them out herself. It is scarcely likely that the murderer spent much time in the room after the crime was committed. Doubtful, too, even if he had possessed himself of Miss Karslake’s keys, whether he would have guessed that that little box contained money. And, granted that he did, would he have stopped to open the box? He would have been more likely to put the whole thing into his pocket.”
    Stoddart clapped the young man on the back. “Well thought out, Harbord. Now we must ’phone the Bank – the Imperial Counties – and see if they have kept the numbers of the notes. I don’t think we shall do very much good by looking further round here. We are more likely to find the clue, without which we are wandering round in a maze, either in one of the other rooms in the Abbey or in Charmian Karslake’s flat. At the present moment I feel inclined