THE SILK ENIGMA

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 58, Issue 36, 22 November 1937, Page 7

THE SILK ENIGMA

By J. R. WILMOT

:: SERIAL STORY ::

:Copyright ::

CHAPTER XVIII.

FOILED QR FOOLED?

Sea Yat Soh was in an ugly temper and Ling Foo was afraid. He bad observed his master in these moods before, but none of them, he recalled, had been quite so ugly as the present one. The Great One, still wearing the Savile Row clothes in which he had visited Miss Leonard at Battersea, strodeback and forth in his apartment mechanically beating one fist into the palm of the other hand. His chin almost rested on his breast and occasionally a sound that had no relation to any known language escaped his lips. Ling Foo stood beside the door, waiting. Suddenly Sen Yat Soh paused in his perambulation and turned on the waiting servant. “Where is Wu Ti?” he demanded. “He is below, Excellency.” “Bring the dog here!” Wu Ti was, if anything, smaller in stature than his colleague Ling Foo. His face was expressionless. He, too, wore the clothes of the West. “Wu Ti, you ard a fool. A dog of a fool. Your ancestors must have been fools for only fools could have begot such a fool as you.” “It, shall be as you say, Excellency. Wu Ti is content.” Sen Yat ISoh ignored the interruption. “You know what you’ve done, Wu Ti? Let me tell you. Your blundering killing of Nolescue may yet cost us not only the secret of the Medichus. It may cost us your life and our liberty.” “How say, Excellency? No one knows ...” Wu Ti was inwardly afraid but he dare not,reveal it. “It has come to my ears that Scotland Yard have been making inquiries in ©very Chinese quarter of London. It means that they suspect something. If they do not why do they seek information? Answer met that, Wu Ti?” “I cannot answer, Excellency. The man Nolesoue had to die.” “You talk like a fool in a play,” scoffed Soh. “I was a fool myself to allow Ling Foo to use you. If you hadn’t killed Nolescue we should probably have got clear of this cursed country by this, and the secret 'with us. Don’t you realise it would have been easy to buy up all the Suchow silk in London. Those were my instructions. But you thought you were clever, Wu Ti, and you killed a naan and now where are we? You’ve made a fool of me. We’ve now got two women on our hands and I can’t make up my mind about either of them.” Wu Ti remained silent. He, too, hah seen Sen Yat Soh’s ugly moods before. “Send for Ling Foo,” commanded Soh. Lifig Foo came fearfully and stood beside Wu Ti. “There is to be a last attempt to remove the silk from Oxtons,” Soh directed, “and what’s more there is to be no more killing. You say that the police have withdrawn themselves from the store. That is well. To-night one of you goes to Oxtons and gains possession of the roll from which the girl Varley was seen to cut that piece about which we have heard. Get that roll at all costs and you can leave the women to me. Let me further remind both of you that I will not countenance failure. I am not afraid of the police. We are safe enough here, but only for the moment. More than that I have a healthy desire to fly. I am told that the aeroplane is ready the moment we need it. You may go. If you are not hack here by three o’clock to-morrow morning, I shall know that you have failed. In an hour from that time 1 shall he gone and you will he left to your own resources.” When the two men had gone Sen Yat Boh resumed his pacing. Meanwhile in another room in the rambling old house and behind a locked door Phyllis Varley was bending over the still quiet form of a woman she had never seen before. „ , Since her last interview with boh fear had never left her. It gnawed at her heart and at her mind making them both numb. Two hours ago, Ling boo had carried the inert form of this other woman into the room and laid her unceremoniously on the bed. Unlike her own case he had brought no reviving cup and Phyllis had been left to her own devices to restore the woman to consciousness. She had worked slowly with cold comprossos inado from hor handkcircfaiof &nd a ewer of water that stood beside a table. Beyond the woman’s breath-ing-slight though that was—there was no sign of returning life. But the girl did not give up hope, and at last she was rewarded by the faintest flicker of the other woman’s eyelids. Phyllis redoubled her efforts. She feit that she must know who this woman was and bow she came to he here. A THREAT. Five minutes later the woman opened her eyes and gazed up at Phyllis unrecognisingly . “Don’t try to think just tor a moment,” Phyllis advised her. “I’ll see if I can get you a drink of water.” There was a shallow bowl on the table which she made serve as a sauced-, and the other woman allowed the cool liquid to trickle down her parched throat. Miss Lennard’s mind was in a maze. Her head felt like molten metal. She moved her lips to speak, but no words came from them. Phyllis refilled the howl and Miss Lennard drank, this time greedily. “You’ll he feeling heaps better soon,” Phyllis assured her. “Just keep lying still and don’t attempt to sit up.” , , “Where am i? You’re not Mary. You don’t look like Mary. Her eyes aren’t the same.”. There was a note of bewilderment in Miss Lennard s voice. “Please,” continued Phyllis, “don’t worry about anything. It’ll all come back soon and then you. can tell me what that yellow swine did to you.” “Did you say yellow?” Miss Len-

nard’s eyes were illuminated with a new interest. Phyllis nodded. “That’s it,” rambled Miss Lennard. “Ten years off my age. It’s wonderful, dear. Marvellous. You’re young. It doesn’t matter so much to you; but to me ... it means so much ... so much . . . and he promised me. He wanted youth, too. We both did . . . wanted it so much . . . life would hold so much more, wouldn’t it, dear. But . . . but where am I ? I’m not at home. I don’t know you . . . never seen you before. And where’s the dagger . . . you haven’t got a dagger, have you ?” Once again the girl shook hor head. “Of course I haven’t got a dagger. I’m your friend. Won’t you tell me your name?” “My name? Of- course!” A slow and rather amused smile played fancifully about Miss Lennard’s lips. “You don’t know me. We’re strangers. I’m Brenda Lennard. ...” The name struck an immediate chord in Phyllis Varley’s mind. “Brenda Lennard !. . . From Battersea?” “That’s right! You knew me all the time, and yet that’s funny, I don’t seem to remember you.”

Phyllis Varley’s mind was whirling madly. Fate had. played, one of her most fantastic tricks on her. Out of her spontaneous imagination she had invented a name and an address to placate that mask-faced Chinaman and subconsciously she had. given him the name and address of a living person. “I’m afraid I’m to blame for all this,” said Phyllis, slowly, and regretfully. “But tell me what happened?” Miss Lennard was feeling distinctly better.

“I don’t profess to know what you’re talking about,” she answered, “but if it will help to clear things up even so far as I am concerned, I’ll tell you.” Phyllis listened intently, and when she had finished she asked: “And you didn’t really have any silk from Oxtons, did you?” Once again that amused: smile came to Miss Lennard’s face. “Of course not. I haven’t bought anything from Oxtons for a long time. But I’m going to. I’m going straight away to buy as much Suchow silk as I can. Think of it, my dear, ten years off my life! I’m forty! Think what I can do with ten fewer years! By the way, what time is it? I mustn’t be late or they may be closed.” Phyllis Varley could -not resist smiling. “I’m afraid you’re much too late. It’s seven o’clock according to my watch, and even so I don’t think Mr Sen Yat Soh would like you to leave here for a while yet.” Miss Lennard raised herself on her elbows at that. There was a glint of incredulity in her eyes. “Not leave here! Why not Where’s my hat?” Phyllis tried to soothe her. “You’re a dear, Miss Lennard, but I want you to understand that we’re prisoners, and the worst of it is I’ve no idea whether we’re in London or out of it. I’ve tried looking out of the window, but there are Shutters on the outside, and I can’t see a thing.” ‘But this is preposterous,” cried Miss Lennard. “I’ve never heard of such a thing! We must get out of here—and auickly. I’m going straight away to the police.” Phyllis laid an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I only wish we could,” she told her, “but, you see, my dear, we’re locked in, and no one pays any attention to my knocking at the ddor.”’ Realisation dawned in Miss Lennard’s eyes. She sat on the bed with a look of defection. Suddenly she brightened up. ‘Tve.got it!” she announced, brightly. “I’ll tell that man Soh that I have got the silk, hut that I won’t hand it over to him until he takes me back to Battersea. He’s probably been searching everywhere for it, hut I’ll tell him that a man doesn’t know every woman’s hiding-places. How’s that, my dear?”

“I should say it sounds very, very interesting,” remarked a voice from the doorway, and though neither woman had heard the door of the room being opened, there stood Sen Yat Soh with an evil scowl on his ugly features. “You’ve fooled me once to-day, Miss Lennard, and you, too, Miss Varley, and I have no mind to be fooled again so readily. It is said in my country that truth is often-times buried deeply; that it takes a long time in the digging, so we have contrived other ways of persuading truth to come from her tomb in silence. My ancestors invented various and assorted tortures, some of them* expressly designed_for women. To-morrow, perhaps, we shall revive one or two of these old customs. I leave you with that intriguing thought.” Silently as he had come, Sen Yat Soh went, leaving the two women huddled together sick with fear. (To be continued).