THE MERTON MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20249, 8 May 1929, Page 18

THE MERTON MYSTERY.

A SHORT STORY.

BY, .W. .Q. AMER.

Richard Merton, head o£ the shipping firm of Merton and Company, prospered and grew obese with his good fortune. His progress westwards had at length culminated in a pretentious mansion in the charming suburb of Richmond, whero he looked forward to spending the rest of his days in placid contentment. It pleased him to provide a liberal hospitality and to surround himself with good company.

Among the crowd of guests on this particular evening was a young man, tall and muscular, with a ' flowing moustache and distinguished features. Herbert Hendley had ne\er yet taken life very seriously. He had met the Mertons at a house party in Scotland, and had gladly accepted an invitation to renew the acquaintance on his . return to the Metropolis. He had now been several times to the house, and was fast establishing a reputation as a constant visitor. The large-sized drawing room was well packed with a gay company. There was nothing vulgar about the Mertons, and all the arrangements were excellent. 'Herbert, with his back to the wall, was listening abstractedly to the small talk of a vivacious, dapper, little gentleman, well past the prime of life. His attention was in truth directed to the farther end of the room where a portly, pompous individual was chatting with the charming Geraldine. " Who is that talking to Miss Merton ?" he inquired, interrupting his companion in the recital of a scandalous story. "Eh? Let mo see," replied the dapper, little gentleman, fumbling for his eyeglasses. " Why, that is Mortimer, the wealthy stockbroker. On the outlook for a second wife, he! lie! he!" And the old gentleman chuckled pleasantly. Herbert frowned; the joke was not to his liking. After a while he managed to shake off his gam'ulous companion and picked his •way through the throng toward Geraldine. A young girl of some twenty summers, of medium height, fair, with clear, transparent complexion, she made a charming picture of English girlhood. Her unaffected and good-natural disposition won her a host of friends. Of whom not the least was Herbert Hendley. "It is stifling here. Would you not like to take a turn on the terrace?" ho asked when he reached her side.

" Thank you; it is warm," she assented. He led her to the terrace, which commanded a view of the river an.d was flanked by an ornamental shrubbery. It is a perfect night," he said, enthusiastically. " Yes, it is very pleasant," and she smiled at his earnestness.

" Do you remember our excursion up the mountain side in Scotland? and how we got caught in the Scotch mist ? ' he mused.

" And how you wrapped me up in your great coat!" she exclaimed. "Am I likely to forget it? What an object I must have looked!" And she laughed musically. " Well, it was then." " What was then ?" she asked softly as he stopped, seemingly lost in reverie. " That I first loved you," he burst forth. " I had not intended to speak tonight. I have no right; I am a poor man," and he smiled bitterly. " But I love you, Geraldine; you are dearer to me than my own life. I you could wait, dearest, till lamin a position'to marry, I would work hard to make an. income. Am I asking too much?" His impassioned voice sank to a low tone with the suspicion of a tremor as she put the question.

" Yon cannot ask me too much," she "■-said simply, glancing up afc him with the love light shining in her blue eyes. He caught her to his breast and kissed her lips again and again. Then straining her to him he whispered: "Mv darling, you have made me happy." The sound of music from the drawing room recalled them after a while to the duties of the moment,- and he led her back in triumph. " I will see your father to-morrow, dear," he said as" they entered the house together.

There was considerable commotion in the Merton household on the following morning. A robbery had been committed during the night! Rising somewhat later than usual, Mrs. Merton discovered that her jewel cabinet had been rifled. It was empty; the whole contents were gone. Immediately she had communicated with her husband. A hurried, but fruitless, search had taken place. Inquiries were made, and the facts were quickly known to the servants of the, household.

No evidence could fc'e found of the manner in which the thief had entered the house. None of the windows or doors appeared fo have been tampered with, and all the burglar, precautions, upon which of late Mr. Merton had been insistent, were undisturbed. Under the circumstances it was scarcely to be wondered that everyone grew suddenly suspicious of everyone else, and an uneasy feeling begah to pervade the houshold. Did they harbour a thief in their midst, and who was it ? Mr. Merton communicated with the police and called in the aid of a private detective. The authorities favoured the supposition that the robbery had been perpetrated by, or by the aid of, some member of the household, but their inquiries failed to attach definite suspicion to any of the servants. Then the housemaid made a discovery. While attending to her . duties in Mrs. Merton's room she found a man's gold cuff link. It was passed from hand to hand and scrutinised closely. Geraldine gave a start when it was shown to her. " Why, it is just like Herbert's—l mean Mr. Ilendley's," she said, blushing. Suddenly realising that her words might connect him with the robbery she added quickly, " But of course it can't be his." The detective said nothing, but gave her a sharp, penetrative glance. After making exhaustive investigations, the detective took his departure, expressing buoyant hopes of effecting a speedy capture.

The warm, breathless afternoon was almost at an end, and in his comfortable bachelor chambers at Lancaster Terrace, AVest Kensington, Herbert Handley was entertaining his friend Dr. George Wallace, who sat at his case meditatively smoking a cigar and listening, with an amused expression, to Hendley's recital. "Preposterous!" exclamed that young man, excitedly pacing up and down the room. "Preposterous: To be made out a common thief, a burglar, a housebreaker, and accused of robbing the father of the girl J love! It's—it's perfectly monstrous."

"It is certainly a trifle awkward," commented George with a smile. " Awkward ?" glaring at his friend. "It is awful. Good heavens, man! jTliink of it—a common thief!" " I have always understood," said George, soothingly, " that the housebreaking fraternity were the elite of the profession." Hendley stopped dead, turned fiercely toward his friend and appeared as if about to commit an assault. Then he flung himself into a chair. " You—you're tantalising," he protested. "What's to bo done?" he asked despairingly after a moment's silence. "Ah! that's better," nodded George v;ith approval. " The high tragedy stylo is not conducive to clear thinking." " It's enough to provoke a saint, and—"

" Yes, yes," interposed George, raising his hand deprecatingly, " all that may safely be left to the imagination. Suppose we confine ourselves to the simple facts of tho case. You see at present I only know that you love Geraldine Mcr-

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ton, which shows a pretty taste on your part, and that Mr. Merton accuses you of committing a burglary." " Well, the story, is soon told. It appears that during the night some thieves broke into old Merton's place and made off with five thousand pounds' worth of jewellery. A nice little haul. As I told you, I had intended looking up old Merton this evening to ask his paternal blessing in the matter of Geraldine. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when a private detective r.hap called on me about mid-day, and without too much euphemism, charged me with committing the theft, informing me that if I would return the jewellery he thought no further steps would be taken in the matter. I need scarcely say I was dumbfounded for the moment, and when I recovered my speech I demanded angrily what he meant by such language. The long and short of it was, I learnt that one of my cuff-links, which I missed this morning, had been found on the floor of the bedroom whence the jewels were stolen. That's how matters stand at present. Of course, I cannot ask for the hand of Geraldine while I lie under this —er —unpleasant imputation." " No—o," said George, thoughtfully. " How do you account for the presence of your cuff-link in the room ?" ' Dashed if I know, except " " Yes?"

" Well, there's tho possibility, when I was with Geraldine, it might have dropped." " I see—dropped into tho folds of her dress, and she carried it into the room and deposited it unconsciously upon tho floor."

" It's the only way I can think of." " What do you want me to do in tho matter?" asked George, steadily puffing at his cigar. " I thought you wouldn't mind acting as go between and explain the affair to Merton."

"Hum! Tell him a prospective son-in-law is scarcely likely to rob his prospective father-in-law? Eh?" " Well —er —hang it all, man! —it's preposterous." " Quite so, but the cuff-link is nasty evidence. However, much depends upon the circumstances of the robbery. Look here, Bert, I won't promise to see you through, but I'll interview Merton and do the best I can for you." "Thanks, old man—you're a brick!" And tho two friends shook hands heartily.

Leaving his friend. Dr. Wallace took the train to Richmond and called on Mr. Merton, with whom he had a casual acquaintance. From Mr. Merton, who received him kindly, he learnt the full details of the affair. He was particularly struck by the mystery that surroundeS the entrance of the burglars. During the interview he scrutinised narrowly tho somewhat immobile features of his companion. A few minutes of silence followed Mr. Merton's narrative, and then Dr. Wallace leant suddenly forward and made an audacious proposal. " Mr. Merton, I am going to trespass on your good nature. Can you put me up for the night ? It is late, and I must think out what you have told me. I believe I possess the clue to the mystery, but I must make sure."

" Thank godness!" exclaimed Mr. Merton. " it will lift a weight from my mind. Certainly. You shall have the spare room on the same floor that from which the jewels were taken. " Thank you—that will suit me excellently. I hope to be able to tell you more to-morrow."

Upon arriving down to breakfast a trifle late the next morning Dr. Wallace found his host in a state of considerable perturbation. Nothing, however, was said until the meal was finished and they had retired to the library. " Most extraordinary thing! burst forth Mr. Merton as soon as he had closed the door. " I found this necklace," producing it from his pocket, " one of the stolen articles, on my dress-ing-table this morning." , " Yes, I "know," said Dr. Wallace. "You know!" exclaimed Mr. Merton, staring in astonishment at his companion. "What do you mean? You put—" " No. It was never in my possession. <• But—how—did—it—come—there ?" " The thief put it there." " The thief!" ~ „ . " Yes so far as there is any theft in the matter. The fact is the jewels have never been out of the house. " Never been out of the. house! cried Mr. Merton. " I—don't understand." " The explanation is simple. You are a sleep-walker, Mr. Merton, and have hidden the jewels yourself." Speechless with amazement, Mr. Merton pushed back his chair and gazed open mouthed at the doctor, who described how he ha 4 kept watch during the night, and had at length been rewarded by seeing him come out of his bedroom clad in a dressing gown and ascend the stairs to the top of the house. Dr. uallace had followed him, and had seen him take the necklace from its hiding-place and then return with it to his room. " You—you don't say so!' gasped Mr. Merton, after a few moments, when he had partially recovered himself. "It is a fact," asseverated the doctor. " The jewels are in a chest in the top attic. We had better go and recover they ascended to the large back attic, used as a lumber room, where they found the rest of the jewels in the big woden box. "By heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Merton, as he gazed upon them, " you are right. I have a dim recollection of something, he continued, putting his hand to his forehead. " I seem to remember now coming here for some purpose, but I can t quite recall it, it seems hazy and indistinct. Yes, there's no doubt you are ri Thev lifted the lost articles from their resting place, and laden with the spoil returned to the library. "Is this the solution you expected, doctor?" asked Mr. Merton, after they had looked through the jewellery and accounted for all the supposed stolen proit is," replied Dr. Wallace. " You remember you told me that for some time past you had been worrying over the safety of the jewellery. Your precautions against burglary were al made with this object m view. I noticed that your eyes wore a stolid, half-vacant expression at times, and I thought it not unlikely that somnambulism might be the key to the mystery. I was not mismy most sincere regrets and apologies to Mr. Hendley, and express to him my most earnest desire that he will not let this unfortunate affair interrupt our friendship. As for you, Dr. Wallace, I owe you more in the matter than 1 can well express, and if you will allow me, I shall esteem it a privilege to reckon you among my friends." " It will, I assure you, Mr. Merton, be a mutual privilege. I am certain that Mr Hendley will view matters in an amiable light. Indeed ho desires to enter into closer relationship with you than that of friendship. Your daughter and ho have conceived an affection for one another, and I am but anticipating in letting vou into the secret." "Ah! that is the state of matters, is it ?" said Mr. Merton. " Well, lie is a worthy young man. Tell him to call and wc will talk it over."

Mr. Merton declared there was no occasion for tho young people to wait, and expressed his intention of behaving handsomely toward them. " Father acquits you, dear," said Geraldine, as she and her lover sat in the tiny arbour screened by tho shrubbery, " but mother is doubtful; she says that if you did not take her jewellery, you are robbing her of a daughter." " Tell her she has made a mistake," he replied gallantly, " I am giving her a son." Yet he kissed her with more, than brotherly fervour.