11 - Malcolm Sage, Detective by Herbert George Jenkins

Delve into the intriguing world of Malcolm Sage as this collection of short stories unravels his first year at the helm of his own Detective Bureau. This captivating series serves as a sequel or companion piece to the gripping tale of John Dene of Toronto.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter eleven of Malcolm's Age Detective by Herbert George Jenkins.
This libovox recording is the public domain recording by Anossimon
Chapter eleven. The mc murray mystery. One of the many
problems upon which Malcolm's Age was engaged during the early
days of the Malcolm Sage Bureau, that concerning the death

(00:21):
of Professor James mc murray, the eminent physiologist, was perhaps
the most extraordinary. It was possessed of several remarkable features.
For one thing, the murderer had disappeared, leaving no clue.
For another, the body, when found, seemed to have undergone
a strange change, many of the professors sixty five years
appearing to have dropped from him in death as leaves

(00:43):
from an autumn tree. It was one of those strange
crimes for which there is no apparent explanation. Consequently, the
strongest weapon the investigator has, that of motive, was absent
as far as could be gathered. The dead professor had
not an enemy in the world. He was a semi
recluse with nothing about him to attempt the burglar. Yet

(01:05):
he had been brutally done to death in his own laboratory,
and the murderer had made good his escape without leaving
anything unlikely to prove helpful to the police. One day,
as glad As Norman, like panting, time, toiled after her
work in Vain, striving to tap herself up to date
with an accumulation of correspondence. The telephone bell rang for

(01:26):
what seemed to her the emptieth time that morning. She
seized the receiver as a dog seizes a rat, listened,
murmured a few words in reply, then banked it back
upon its rest. Oh dear, she sighed, I wish they'd
let him alone. The poor dear looks tired out. She
turned to William Johnson, who had just entered. Why don't

(01:46):
you hurry up and become a man innocent, she demanded,
so that you can help the chief. William Johnson looked
vague and shuffled his feet. His admiration of Malcomb Stage's
secretary rendered himself conscious in her presence. Sir John Dene
and Sir Jasper Chambers to see the chief, he announced,
obviously impressed by the social importance of the callers. Sure

(02:08):
it'sot the shower of Persia and Charlie Chaplin, she asked, wearily,
as she rose from her table and walking over to
the door marked private, passing to Malcolm Sage's room. Reappearing
a moment later, she instructed William Johnson to show the
visitors in at once. As the two men passed through
Miss Norman's room, they formed a striking contrast. Sir John Dene, short,

(02:29):
thick set, alert, with the stamp of the west End
upon all he wore. Sir Jasper Chambers, tall, gaunt, arid, dinghy,
with a forehead like the bulging eaves of an Elizabethan house,
and a lower portion of his face a riot of short,
grizzled gray hair that seemed to know neither coercion nor restrained.
His neck appeared intent on thrusting itself as far as

(02:51):
possible out of the shabby frock coat that hung despairingly
from his narrow shoulders. I wonder, murmured Gladys Norman, as
she returned to her tie. How many geraniums he had
to give for those clothes? Mourning missus Sage, cried Sir
John Dene. Malcolm Sage rose, there was an unwonted cordiality
in the way in which he extended his hand. This

(03:12):
is Sir Jasper chambers. Sir John Dene turned to his companion,
you'll be able to place him, and he twirled the
ly cheroot between his lips with bewildering rapidity. Sir Jasper
bowed with an old world curdliness and grace that seemed
strangely out of keeping with its lank and unpicturesque bearing
Malcolm Sage, however, held out his hand with the air

(03:33):
of one wishing to convey that the friend of Sir
John Dene merrit its special consideration. He motioned the two
men to seats and resumed his own. Both declined the
box of cigars he proffered, Sir John Dene preferring the
well chewed cheroot between his lips, while Sir Jasper drew
a pipe from the tail pocket of his frock coat,
which with long, flashless fingers, who proceeded to fill from

(03:54):
a chemi leather tobacco pouch. I've brought Sir Jasper along,
said Sir John Dene. You've heard about the murder of
his friend, Professor mc murray. He didn't want to come,
but I told him you'd be tickled to death and
that you'd get it all figured out for him. In
two wags of a chipmunk's tail. Malcolm's age looked across
at the eminent philanthropist, whose whole attention seemed absorbed in

(04:15):
the filling of his well worn briar. Sir Jasper's wise
charities and great humanitarianism were world famous. It was will Blink,
the labored demagogue, who had said that of all the
honors conferred during the century, Sir Jasper Chambers O m
had alone been earned. The others had been either bored
or wangled. The McMurray murder was a sensation of the hour.

(04:38):
The newspapers had stunted it, and the public, always eager
for gruesome sensation, had welcomed it as if it had
been a Merry Pickford film. Four days previously, Professor James
mc murray of Gorling in Essex had been found dead
in his laboratory, his head fearfully battered in by some
blunt instrument. It was the professor's custom, when engaged upon
important research work, to return, sometimes for days at a time,

(05:02):
to a laboratory he had built in his own grounds.
Meals were passed through a small wicket specially constructed for
that purpose in a laboratory wall and the professor's servants
had the most explicit restructions on no account to disturb him.
A fortnight previously, Professor mc murray had retired to his
laboratory to carry out an important series of experiments. He

(05:23):
informed his butler that Sir Jasper Chambers, his lifelong friend,
would visit him on the third day, and that dinner
for two was to be supplied in the usual way
through the wicket. On the evening in question, Sir Jasper
Chambers had arrived and stayed until a little past nine.
He then left the laboratory and proceeded to the house,
where he told the butler that his master was quite

(05:43):
well and that in all probability his researchers would occupy
him another week. Eight days later, when the butler took
the professor's luncheon down to the laboratory, he noticed that
the breakfast tray had not been removed from the shelf
just inside the wicket. Convinced that the professor had been
so absorbed in his searches that he had forgotten the meal,
the butler placed the luncheon tray beside that containing the breakfast,

(06:06):
taking it better to leave the earlier meal as a
reminder to the professor of his forgetfulness. At dinner time,
the butler was greatly surprised to find that both breakfast
and luncheon had remained as he had left them. Still,
remembering how definite and insistent the professor had been that
he was not to be disturbed, the butler had, after
consulting with the housekeeper, decided to do nothing for the moment,

(06:29):
and contented himself with ringing several times the electric bell
that was the signal of another meal. An hour later,
he went once more to the wicket, only to discover
that nothing had been touched. Hurrying back to the house
with all speed, he had conferred with missus Graham, the housekeeper,
and on her insistence he had telephoned to the police.

(06:49):
Sergeant Crudden of the Essex County Constabulary immediately bicycled over
to the hollows Professor mc murray's residence, and, after hearing
the butler's story, he had decided to force the door.
There are no windows, the laboratory being lighted from above
in order to secure entire privacy. To the officer's surprise,
the door yielded readily, having apparently been previously forced entering

(07:13):
the laboratory, he was horrified to discover the body of
the professor lying in the center of the floor, his
head literally smashed by a terrible blow that had obviously
been delivered from behind. Acting on the instructions the police sergeant,
the butler had telephoned the news to the police station
at Strinton, with the result that shortly afterwards Inspector Brewett

(07:33):
arrived with the doctor. The police had made no statement,
but there were some extraordinary rumors current in the neighborhood.
One was to the effect that it was not Professor
mc murray's body that had been discovered, but that of
a much younger man who bore a striking resemblance to him.
You have seen the accounts of my friend's terrible end,
inquired Sir Jasper, as he took the box of matches

(07:55):
Malcolm Sage handed him and proceeded to light his pipe.
Malcolm Sage his gaze was fixed upon Sir Jasper's gray
worsted socks, which concertined up his legs above a pair
of strangely fashioned black shoes. He was about to enter
upon a series of experiments with the Seramide discovered, his
object being to lengthen human life. Sir Jasper spoke in

(08:18):
a gentle, well modulated voice, in which was a deep
note of sadness. He and Professor mc murray had been
lifelong friends, their intimacy appearing to become strengthened by the
passage of years. You were the last to see him alive.
I understand. Malcolm Sage picked up his fountain pen and
began an elaborate stipple design of a serpent upon the

(08:39):
blotting pad. Eight days before he was found, I dined
with him, said Sir Jasper, his voice a little unsteady.
What happened, Malcolm Sage inquired, without looking up. I arrived
at seven o'clock, continued Sir Jasper. From then until half
past we talked upon things of no interest, after which

(09:01):
we dined. Later he told me he was about to
enter upon a final series of experiments, the result of
which would, in all probability, either be fatal to himself
or mean the lengthening of human life. He paused, gazing
straight in front of him, ejecting smoke from his lips
in staccatoed puffs. Then he continued. He said that he

(09:22):
recently made a will which was lying with its solicitor,
and he gave me certain additional instructions as at the
disposal of his property. Did he seem quite normal, inquired
Malcolm Sage, adding a pair of formidable Thanks to his
reptile he was calm and confident at parting, He told
me I should be the first to know the result.

(09:43):
Have you any reason to believe that Professor mc murray
had enemies? Malcolm's Age inquired, None, was the reply, uttered
in a tone of deep conviction, accompanied by a deliberate
wagging of the head. He was confident of the success
of his experiments. Absolutely, and you I had no means
of knowing, was the reply. You were his greatest friend

(10:07):
and his only confident, suggested Malcolm Sage, adding the sixth
pair of legs to his creation. Yes, and you were
to be the first to be told of the result
of the experiments. Those were his last words to me.
There was a suggestion of emotion in Sir Jasper's otherwise
even voice. Can you remember his actual words? Yes, I

(10:31):
remember them, he replied sadly. As we shook hands, he said, well, Chambers,
you will be the first to know the result. Again,
there was silence, broken at length by Malcolm Sage, who
stoked the back of his head with his left hand.
His eyes had returned to Jasper's socks. Do you think
the professor had been successful in his experiments? He inquired?

(10:55):
I cannot say again, Sir Jasper shook his head slowly
and deliberately. Did you see the body? I did? Is
there any truth in the rumors that he looked much younger?
There was certainly a marked change, A startling change, was
the reply. But death plays all tricks with years, suggested

(11:17):
Malcolm's Age, who was now feeling the lobe of his
left ear as if to assure himself his presence true,
said Sir Jasper, nodding his head as if pondering the
matter deeply true. There was an article in last months
the Present Sentry, by Sir Culper Jevins, entitled the Dangers
of Longevity? Did ye read it? Inquired Malcolm Sage. I

(11:40):
did I read it too, broke in Sir John Dene,
who had hitherto remained an interested listener, as he sat
twirling round between his lips the still unlit shrewd A
pretty dangerous business. It seems to me, this monkeying about
with people's glance it called attention to the danger of
any interference with nature's carefully adjusted balances between life and death.

(12:02):
Continued Malcolm Sage, who had returned to the serpent, which
now supported a pair of horns, and was insistent that
the lengthening of human life could result only in harm
to the community. Do you happen to know if Professor
mc murray had seen this, he had suggestper leant forward
to knock the ashes from his pipe into the copper

(12:22):
tray on Malcolm Sage's table. We talked of it during
dinner that evening. His contention was that signs could not
be constructed by utilitarianism, and that nature would adjust her
balances to their new conditions. But grumbled Sir John Dene,
it wouldn't be until there had been about the tallest
kind of financial panic this little globe of misery has

(12:44):
ever seen. The article maintained that there would be an
intervening period of chaos, remarked Malcolm Sage meditatively, as he
opened a drawer and took from it a copy of
the present century. I was particularly struck with this passage.
He remarked, It is impossible to exaggerate the extreme delicacy

(13:04):
of the machinery of modern civilization, he read industrialism. The
food supply existence itself are dependent upon the death rate.
Reduce this materially and will inevitably lead to an upheaval
of a very grave nature. For instance, it would mean
an addition of something like a million to the population

(13:26):
of the United Kingdom each year, over and above those
provided for by the normal excess of births over death,
and it would be years before nature could be adjust
her balances. Malcolm's age looked across such a jasper, who
for some seconds remained silent, apparently deep in thought. I think,

(13:48):
he said, presently, with the air of a man carefully
weighing his words, that mc murray was inclined to underestimate
the extreme delicacy of the machinery of modern civilization. Call
his saying that the arguments in that article would apply
only in the very unlikely event of some one meeting
with unqualified success, that is to say, by the discovery

(14:11):
of a serum that would achieve what the Spaniards hoped
of the Fountain of eternal youth, an instantaneous transformation from
age to youth. A sort of faust stunt, murmured Sir
John Dene. Sir Jasper nodded his head gravely. For some minutes,
the three men sat silent, Sir Jasper gazing straight in
front of him, Sir John Dene twirling his surroute between

(14:34):
his lips, his eyes fixed upon the bald, dome like
head of Malcolm Sage, whose eyes were still intent upon
his horned reptile, which he had adorned with wings. He
appeared to be thinking deeply. It's up to you, missus Age,
to get on the murderous trail, said Sir John Dene
at length, with the air of a man who has
no doubt. As the result, you wish me to take

(14:56):
up the case, Sir John inquired, Malcolm Sage, looking up suddenly, sure,
said Sir John Dene. As he rose, I'll take it
as a particular favor if you will. Now I must vermouse,
I've got a date in the city. He jerked himself
to his feet and extended a hand to Malcolm's Age. Then,
turning to Sir Jasper, who had also arisen, he added,

(15:16):
you leave it to missus Sage, Sir Jasper. Before long
you won't see him for dust. He's about the livest
wire this side of the Lawrence, and with this anigmatical insurance,
he walked to the door, whilst Malcolm Sage shook hands
with Sir Jasper two. Johnny, said Miss Norman, as William
Johnson entered her room in response to a peremptory call

(15:38):
on the private telephone, Inspector Carfin is the honors with
a call during the next few minutes. Give him a
chair and a copy of the Sunday at home, and
watch the clues if they peep out of his pockets.
Now buzz off, William Johnson returned to his table in
the outer office and a lure detective story from which
mister Norman's summons had torn him. He was always gratified

(15:58):
when an officer from Scotland yard. It seemed to bring
him a step nearer to the great crook world of
his dreams. William Johnson possessed imagination, but it was the
imagination of the films. A quarter of an hour later
he held open the door of Malcolm Sage's private room
to admit Inspector Carfin, a tall man with small features
and a large forehead, above which the fair hair had

(16:20):
been sadly thinned by the persistent wearing of a helmet
in the early days of his career. I got your message,
Missus Sage, he began, as he flopped into a chair
on the opposite side of Malcolm Sage's table. This mac
Mary Kays is at teaser, shall be glad to talk
it over with you. I am acting on behalf of
Sir Jasper Chambers, said Malcolm Sage. It's very kind of

(16:43):
you to come round so promptly. Carfin, he added, pushing
a box of cigars towards the inspector. Not at all,
missus Sage, said Inspector Carfin, as he selected his cigar.
Always glad to do what we can, although we are
supposed to be a bit old fashioned, and he laughed
at the laugh of a man who can afford to
be tolerant. I've seen all there is in the papers,

(17:03):
said Malcolm Sage. Are there any additional particulars? There's one
thing we haven't told the papers, and it wasn't emphasized
at the inquest. The inspector leant forward impressively. Malcolm Sage
remained immobile, his eyes on his finger nails. The doctor continued.
The inspector says that the professor had been dead for

(17:23):
about forty eight hours, whereas we know he'd eaten a
dinner about twenty six hours before he was found. Malcolm
Sage looked up slowly. In his eyes there was an
alert look that told of keen interest. You challenged him,
he queried, rather was the response. But he got quite ratty,
said he'd take his professional reputation and all that sort

(17:45):
of thing. Malcolm Sage meditatively inclined his head several times
in succession. His hand felt mechanically for his fountain pen.
And there was another thing that struck me as odd,
continued Inspector Carthin, intently examining the end of his cigar.
The professor had evidently been destroying a lot of old correspondence.
The paper basket was full of torn up letters and envelopes,

(18:07):
and the grate with truck a block with charred paper.
That also, we kept to ourselves that all I think
so was the reply. There's not the vestige of a
clue that I can find. I see, said Malcombe Age,
looking at a press cutting lying before him, that it says.
There was a remarkable change in the professor's appearance. He

(18:27):
seemed to have become rejuvenated. The doctor said that sometimes
death smiled to the velvet hand. He was rather a
poetic sort of chap. The inspector added, by way of explanation,
he saw nothing extraordinary in the circumstance. No, was the response.
He seemed to think it was the only one who
had ever seen a dad man before. I wouldn't mind

(18:48):
betting I've seen as many stiffs as he has, although
perhaps he's caused more. Then, as Malcolm Sage made no comment,
the inspector proceeded. What I want to know is what
was the professor doing while the door was being being
broken open? There were no signs of a struggle, inquired
Malcolm Sage, drawing a cottage upon his thumb nail. None.
He seems to have been attacked unexpectedly from behind. Was

(19:12):
there anything missing? We're not absolutely sure. The Professor's gold
watch can't be found, but the butler is not certain
that he had it on him. For some time, there
was silence. Malcolm Sage appeared to be pondering over the
additional facts he had just heard. What do you want
me to do, missus? Sage, inquired the inspector at length.
I was wondering whether you would run down with me

(19:33):
this afternoon to Gorling, happy, delighted was the hearty response.
Somehow or other, I feel it's not an ordinary murder.
There's something behind it all. What makes you think that?
Malcolm Sage looked up sharply frankly. I can't say, missus Sage,
he confessed, little shame facedly, just a feeling I have.

(19:53):
The laboratory has been locked up, yes, and I've sealed
the door. Nothing has been touched. Malcolm Sage h nodded
his head approvingly, and for fully five minutes continued to
gaze down at his hands spread out on the table
before him. Thank you, Carfin be here at half past two.
The funerals to day, by the way, said the inspector

(20:14):
as he rose, and with a genial good morning, he
left the room. For the next hour, Malcolm Sage was
engaged in reading the newspaper account to the mc murray mystery,
which had already caused to be pasted up in the
current press cutting book. He gathered little more from them, however,
than he already knew. That afternoon, accompanied by Inspector Caffin,
Malcolm Sage moted down to the Hollows which lies at

(20:36):
the easternmost end of the village of Gorling. The inspector
stopped the car just as it entered the drive. The
two men alighted, and, turning sharply to the right, walked
across the lawn towards an ugly red brick building screened
from the house by a belt of trees. Malcolm Sage
had expressed a wish to see the laboratory first. It
was a strange looking structure, some fifty feet long by

(20:59):
about twenty feet wide, with the door on the further
side in the red brick wall nearer the house. There
was nothing to break the monotony except the small wicket
through which the professor's meals were passed. Malcolm Sage twice
walked deliberately round the building. In the meantime, the inspector
had removed the seal from the petlock and opened the door.
Did you photograph the position of the body, inquired Malcolm

(21:22):
Sage as they entered. I hand't the photographer handy, said
the inspector apologetically, as he closed the door behind him.
But I managed to get a man to photograph the wound.
Put yourself in the position of the body, said Malcolm Sage.
The inspector walked to the center of the room, near
a highly polished table, dropped on to the floor, and,
after a moment's pause, turned and lay on his left

(21:44):
side with right arm outstretched. From just inside the door,
Malcolm Sage looked about him. At the left extremity, a
second door gave access to another apartment, which the professor
used as a bedroom. A little to the right of
the door, on the opposite side stood the fire This
was full of ashes, apparently the charred remains of a

(22:04):
quantity of paper that had been burned. On the hearth
were several partially charred envelopes, and the paper basket contained
a number of torn up letters. Let will do calfin,
said Malcolm Sage, as he walked over to the fireplace, and,
dropping on one knee, carefully examined the ashes, touching them
here and there with the poker. He picked up something

(22:25):
that glittered and held it out to the inspector, who
scrambled to his feet and stood looking down with keen
professional interest. Piece of a test tube, remarked Malcolm Sage
as he placed the small piece of glass upon the table.
Moses aren't, gasped the inspector. I miss that though I
saw a lot of bits of glass. I thought it
was an electric bulb somebody had grounded to powder with

(22:48):
his heel. All except this piece looks as if there
might have been more than one. He added, more to
himself than to the expector. These are not letters, he continued,
without looking up letters. The paper is all of the
same quality. By the way, has anyone disturbed it? He
indicated the great No one was the reply. Malcolm Sage

(23:12):
rose to his feet. For some minutes he stood looking
down at the fireplace, stroking the back of his head,
deep in thought. Presently he picked up the poker, a
massive steel affair, and proceeded to examine the fire end
with great minuteness. It was done with the other end,
said the inspector. He must have wiped it afterwards. There
was no sign of blood or hair. Malcolm Sage ignored

(23:34):
the remark and continued to regard the business end the poker.
Walking over to the door, he examined the fastenings. Having
taken a general survey, he next proceeded to a detailed
scrutiny of everything the place contained. From the fireplace, he
picked up what looked like a cinder and placed it
in a small box, which he put in his pocket.
The polished service of the table he subjected to a

(23:56):
careful examination, borrowing the inspector's magnifying glass. The purpose on
hands and knees, he crawled round the table, still using
the magnifying glass, upon a linoleum with which the floor
was covered. From time to time he would pick up
some apparently minute object and transferred to another small box.
At length, he rose to his feet as if satisfied,

(24:17):
and the professor did not smoke. He queried, no, but
the murderer did. Was the rather brisk reply. Inspector Carfin
was finding the roll of audience, trying alike to his
nerves and to his temper. Obviously was Berkham Sage's dry retort.
He also left his pipe behind and had to return
for it. It was rather a full pipe too, he added,

(24:41):
left his pipe behind, cried the inspector, his irritation dropping
from him like a garment. How on earth. In his surprise,
he left the sentence unfinished. Here Malkam Sage indicated a
dark stain on the highly polished table. And here he
pointed to a few flakes of ash, some four of
fire five inches distant are indications that a pipe has

(25:03):
remained for some considerable time, long enough for the nicotine
to drain through the stem. It was a very foul pipe, Calfin.
But mightn't that have trickled out in a few minutes
or while the man was here, objected Inspector Carfin. With
a wet smoker, the saliva might have drained back, said
Malcolm Sage, his eyes upon the stain. But this is

(25:24):
nicotine from higher up the stem, which would take time
to flow out, as to leaving it on the table.
What inveterate smoker would allow a pipe to lie on
a table for any length of time unless he left
it behind him? The man, smoked like a chimney, looked
at the tobacco ash in the fireplace. The inspector stared

(25:45):
at Malcolm Sage shookrin in his look. Now that photograph, Calfin,
said Malcolm Sage. Taking a letter case from his breast pocket,
Inspector Carfin drew out a photograph, folded in half. This
he handed to Malcolm Sage, who, after a keen glance
the grim and gruesome picture, put it in his pocket.
I thought so, he murmured, thought what missus Sage inquired

(26:08):
the inspector eagerly left handed. When keenly interested, Malcolm Sage
was more than usually economical, in words, clean through the
left side of the occipital bone. Malcolm Sage continued, No
right handed man could have delivered such a blow. That
confirms the poker, the inspector stared. The sockets of the

(26:28):
bolts and that at the lock have been loosened from
the inside with the poker, explained Malcolm Sage in a
matter of fact tone. The marks upon the poker suggest
the left handed man. The wound in the head proves it.
Then the fal's door was a blind gasped the inspector.
The murderer was let in by the professor himself, who

(26:49):
was subsequently attacked from behind. As he stood with his
back to the fireplace. You are sure the grate has
not been touched, He suddenly raised his eyes in keen
interrogation inspect the calf and shook his head. He'd not
yet recovered from his surprise. Some one has stirred the
ashes about so as to break up the charred leaves
into small pieces to make identification impossible. This man has

(27:13):
a brain, he added. The inspector gave vent to a
prolonged whistle. I knew there was something funny about the
whole business, he said, as if in self defense. Malcolm
Sage had seated himself at the table, his long, thin
fingers outspread before him. Suddenly he gave utterance to an
exclamation of annoyance. The inspector bent eagerly forward the pipe.

(27:35):
He murmured, I was wrong. He put it down because
he was absorbed in something, probably the papers he burned.
Then you think the murderer burned the papers, inquired the inspector,
in surprise. Who else, asked Malcolm Sage, rising, Now we'll
see the butler. Whilst the inspector was locking and resealing

(27:57):
the door, Malcolm Sage walked round the building several times
in widening circles, examining the ground carefully. But there had
been no rain for several weeks, and nothing upon its
surface suggested a footprint. End of Chapter eleven.