THE SILK ENIGMA

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 58, Issue 35, 20 November 1937, Page 9

THE SILK ENIGMA

By J. R. WILMOT

:: SERIAL STORY ::

:: Copyright ::

CHAPTER XVII. A YOUNG MAN IS IMPATIENT. Philip Slater was out of his bed much earlier than usual the morning following his interview with Superintendent Beck concerning Phyllis Varley’s disappearance. He had made it his business to call around at Moore Street only to find that a much agitated Mrs Shapling had no news of the girl. He arrived at the store half an hour before his appointed time and hung around the staff entrance in the hope that Phyllis had made unexpected arrangements the previous night and that she would be coming straight to the shop. But at nine o’clock there was no sign of Phyllis, and the young man’s nerves were badly frayed. He was convinced now that something terrible must have Happened to the girl—something associated, with the mystery in which they were both involved. The girl’s absence, when it was learned that she had not arrived at h*er lodgings the previous night, was the subject of much comment among her colleagues. Miss Rich, after her outburst the night before, was strangely chastened and refused resolutely to be drawn into the speculation. As for Philip he felt that work was impossible for him until he had got into touch with Scotland Yard, and to that end he awaited the arrival of Mr Petei Oxton with a patience that was only with difficulty controlled. Hardly had the Managing-Director gained the senctuary of his office than Philip Slater entered . “I have to inform you, sir,” said Philip, without preamble, “that Miss Varley has disappeared. I first had my suspicions last night and went to see Superintendent Beck at Scotland Yard. Don’t you think, sir, that we ought to inform him that she hasn’t turned up this morning?” \ Peter Oxton looked the amazement he felt. He stared at the young man unbelievingly. “Are you sure of this?” he demand ed. “I’m certain, sir. Miss Varley nevei reached Moore Street last night. The girls say that she left the store at the usual hour, but her landlady told me two hours later that she had not arrived. Something happened to Miss Varley between her leaving here and her going home. Should I telephone, sir, or will you.” Peter Oxton was bewildered. There was something dominant about Philip Slater that he had never noticed before. Of course, the fellow must be interested in the girl in a rather different relationship than that associated solely with business. “I am interested in her, sir, and what’s more I’m certain that it has something to do with all this mystery surrounding Mr Nolescue’s murder. Why Phyllis hadn’t an enemy in the world .No one would want deliberately to do her harm.” Peter Oxton’s mind swung back to the threat of the Tartar in his own library—a threat that had on that oc casion, been directed against his own daughter. He was telling himself that it might have been Brenda and not Miss Varley. He shuijdered at the thought Of course, there was always the possibility that Miss Varley had reasons of her own for disappearing and he suggested this to Sla-ter. “I can’t believe that, sir. Why, she niade an appointment with me fo? eight o’clock last night, and you may take it from me, sir, that had she been able to keep it she most certainly would have done.” Peter Oxton could not resist a smile at the young man’s earnestness and his implicit faith in Miss Varley. “It’s obvious to me, Slater,” he said, “that your knowledge of the ways of women is not as complete as it prob ably will he when you grow older. The fact that a woman makes an appointment doesn’t always mean that she intends keeping it. You see, Slater, it may have been that Miss Varley had a scheme of her own in mind and in order to throw you off the scent she deliberately made with you an appointment she had nO intention oi keeping. But by all means, if Superintendent BeCk' is interested, wo shall inform him. For my part, young man, I’m heartily sick of the whole affair I’ve been threatened myself, and 1 didn’t like it. But what has Scotland Yard done? As far as I can see they’ve done nothing at all. Beck’s a- nice enough fellow, I admit, but he doesn’t seem to have cpiite the right grip on the case. He’s playing around with some fantastic theory of rival Chinese secret societies at war over a piece of silk. It’s a wonder to me he hasn’t commandeered the whole of our stock and taken it to Scotland Yard. OXTON IS PERSUADED. Philip Slater started. “That’s certainly an idea, sir. If I may I’d like to mention it to him.” “You’ll do nothing of the sort. Slater. Don’t you think we’ve been inconvenienced enough already? However I’m sure Miss Varley will be found safe and sound staying with im invalid aunt from whom she received a message last night too late to cancel your appointment. * By the way, I’ll ’phone Scotland Yard myself, if that will ease your suffering.” Philip Slater went back to his work with a tortured mind. He told himself it was just the least bit cruel of Mr Oxton to put it the way he had done; but in fairness to Oxton perhaps that was his peculiar way of relieving his own feelings. Which was just what it

was. Petor Oxton got into touch with the Superintendent immediately and Beck informed him that ho was coming around to the store immediately. ' When the Superintendent arrived ho ;

appeared more perplexed than usual. He went straight to Oxtou’s private office.

“I’m sorry about Miss Varley,” he told Oxton, “She’s what I call a nice, intelligent ir 1. I had been hoping that some explanation of her disappearance wo:*.ld have been discovered by this morning. Since it hasn’t I suppose we’d better start looking for her.”

“I believe that Mr Slater saw you last night, Mr Beck?” questioned Oxton. “What precisely is Mr Slater’s position in relation to the case oil hand ?”

“Nothing more than that of an observer,” Beck told him. “I found Mr Slater to be a young man of resource and ideas and I asked him to keep an eye on things here during my absence.” “Isn’t that unusual, Mr Beck? And don’t you think I should have been apprised of that fact?” “I suppose you should have been,” the Superintendent apologised. “But when I asked him to do something for

me i didn't want anyone else to knov. except Miss Varley. I rather wanted them to work together on the inside.” “I think I might have been told that you had recruited my staff, Superintendent.” Peter Oxton appeared a trifle petulant, and Beck was beginning to lose his temper—a thing he rarely did. “Mr Oxton,” he said, facing his man squarely, “I will recall to your mind that the other night you yourself were threatened from what I call the ‘danger quarter.’ A threat was made against the safety of your daughter if you didn’t persuade me to withdraw my men from the store and its vicinity. To please you and to set your mind at rest, I did so. You must realise that I had to have someone here who was in a position to give me information. I took upon myself the responsibility of asking Miss Varley and Mr Slater to report certain facts to me. Mr Slater has done so with the cooperation of Miss Varley. I’ll tell you, quite frankly, sir, that I don’t like the attitude you are adopting this morning. Is it because you no longer feaj that danger will come to your own daughter? If that is it, sir, I can’t bring myself to admire you. I am just as disturbed at Miss Varley’s disappearance a 9 1 would be bad the girl been your daughter. I want you to understand that. I think I’ll be getting along.”

The colour had mounted to Oxton’s face and he had to admit that the Superintendent had been right. “I’m sorry, Superintendent; very sorry indeed. I can only attribute my recent attitude to a condition of nerves which has affected me since this business started. Of course, I see your point. It might have been Brenda. I insist that you take whatever steps you please in future to end this uncertainty. If you like you can fill the store with police. I don’t mind—l don’t mind anything if only we can get to the bottom of this distressing affair.” “Even the disappearance of your daughter?” Beck questioned, quietly. The reply surprised the Superintendent. Nevertheless it gave him a new angle on Oxton’s character. “Even to that,” he whispered hoarsely-

* “I don’t think you need fear that anything will happen to Miss Oxton,” Beck assured him, with a. grim smile. "But I think I can say that we appear to have got someone ‘on the run’ as we call it. Without doing anything practical in my investigation we have created a feeling of uneasiness in someone’s mind—someone who doesn’t seem to know how much we know, and I figure that Miss Varley has been taken for that very purpose. They want to know what Scotland Yard is doing and Miss , Varley, they imagine has the key.” ; ' . "IT IS ABOUT MR NOLESCUE!” With this Beck went in search of Philip Slater. He found that young man very much upset and he greeted tihe Superintendent eagerly. "Any news of her, Mr Beck?” Beck shook his head. “Haven’t started looking yet, my boy. You see 1 was hoping that youc report last night might have proved to be a false alarm.’’ They were standing together talking in the deserted corridor outside the general office. “What can we do?” asked Slater, desperately. The Superintendent, shook Ins head. “There are people disappearing almost every hour of the day somewhere. They just go out and. don’t come back. Some are discovered after a few hours’ absence. Others are never heard of again. Don’t think I’m being pessimistic,” he added as he noted the startled expression on the young man’s face. “I’m only trying to illustrate how difficult it is lor the police to get on their trails. There’s no clue . . nothing at all except a description. I don’t need the personal part of that. I’ve met Miss Varley, but if you could tell me what she was wearing when last she was seen I’ll have the description circulated immediately. "I couldn’t tell you for certain, myself,” Philip doubted, “but I’ll soon get that information from some of the girls. I won’t be a minute.” When Slater had raced towards the stairs leading to the store, Beck wandered along towards the stairs that led upwards towards the flat .roof of the store where, when the weather permitted, the members of the staff spent some little time in their rest periods. He had a mind to go up there himself. At the foot of the stairs he paused as he heard' hurried footsteps behind him. He turned and saw a small, rather slightly built girl coming towards him. Ho judged that she was no longer young—that is as young women go. Thirty-eight to forty at a guess. “Excuse me.” she began, nervously, “vou are Superintendent Beck?” The Superintendent admitted the identity. "I want to speak to you. I must speak to you. It is about Mr Nolescue.” Beck regarded the girl shrewdly. “Weren’t you interviewed the day before yesterday ; or was it yesterday?” he asked, puzzled. "It was yesterday morning. Yes, that’s right. But I couldn’t say anything then. That’s why I want to see you now.” “You are Miss . . .”

“Miss Rich ... Muriel Rich. I knew Mr Noloscuo well. Ho was the only man who’s eter boon really friendly. Wo talked a lot about tilings—outside the store, that is. No one knew. It was our secret. Someday we were

ing. going away . . . away to the East. But that’s all over now isn’t it, Mr Beckr They’ve killed him just as he said the} would.” Beck was staggered. “Do you mean to say that Nolescue knew he was going to die?” “He seemed to sense it. He said you always did when a Chinaman was on your trail. I didn’t quite understand, of course. He never told me that.” “He mentioned no names, Miss Rich?” She shook her head. “He didn’t seem to know exactly.” “When did he tell you all this?” “One night last week after we’d been to a cinema.” “You know Miss Varley is missing ” Beck put the question quietly. “That’s what is, worrying me. I’m afraid I made a bit of a fool of myself last night in the staff room as we were going home. I blurted out something of my feelings for Mr Nolescue. It seemed to surprise most of tho girls; but 1 thought it surprised Phyllis Varley most of all. You see, Mr Beck, Phyllis Varlev seemed to think Mr Nolescue was interested in her. He wasn’t. I was his friend and he mine. I’ve been worried this morning . . . wondering whether Phyllis’s disappearance has anything to do with what I said last night,.” “But how could it do that, Miss Rich?” “I’m sure I don’t know. But Mr Nolescue was always so sure that someone was following him . . . even when ho was at work in the store. I thought that perhaps someone had overheard what I had said.”

“But how would that affect Miss \ arley?” Beck could not quite underI stand the girl’s attitude in telling him what she had done. “I’m sure I don’t know, Mr Beck. But I wish I could catch the person who killed Mr Nolescue.” “So do I, Miss Rich,” said Beck bitterly. “I also hope that the person who did kill him isn’t also responsible for Miss Varley’s disappearance.” Miss Rich went back to tho work she had left without permission, and ‘Beck hurried.down to the shop to look for Philip Slater. He felt that, despite the hysterical outburst from Miss Rich, ho was little nearer in his quest. (To he continued).