THE CHANNEL-CRASHER

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 63, Issue 3, 14 October 1942, Page 6

THE CHANNEL-CRASHER

SERIAL STORY.

(Copyright).

By LESLIE BERESFORD.

CHAPTER XXXII. ROWENA SPEAKS UP. “I’ve known juries go wrong Miss .Drew,” said Willing tartly, remembering, no doubt, some of bis; professional disappointments. “But I’m just a simple policeman. I am guided only by evidence. Sentiment, and, if I may say so without offence, sex appeal, don’t enter into my calculations. You may like this young man ” “Ye's, I do like him, and very much,” proclaimed Rowena, straightening herself, and pulling on a glove, quite unnecessarily. “But I don’t see that that has anything to do with what I was saying.” “Now, Rowena, my dear, don’t interfere with the processes of the law, said her uncle who, up to now had been enjoying the dialogue far too much to interfere. “Do sit down. I’m sure the Superintendent doesn’t mind your staying, though I warn you, you may be late for church.” Rowena disregarded the hint and took a chair opposite the visitor. As she did so, the butler entered to announce a telephone call for the Super: intendent.

As he left the room he looked a trifle anxiously at Drew and his niece. He would like to have put them in separate rooms. A woman like that was not- a good influence on Drew in this matter. And, indeed, Rowena was not, so far as' the official point of view was concerned.

“Uncle,” she began, “you mustn’t let that man impose his prejudiced ideas upon you. He doesn’t mean to be unjust, but lie’s a policeman, and he can’t help making a beautiful theory first, and then looking around for facts that will fit it. You know John. You know lie is loyal and conscientious and brave —in fact, you must have been very much impressed by his character right at the beginning or you wouldn’t have believed his story without having at least some confirmation of it. You can’t have it both ways, Uncle— I mean, you can’t believe that he’s both straight and crooked at the same time.” “It seemsi that you are even more impressed by Craven than I am,” replied Sir Bantoclc archly. “But I will admit to being satisfied by his general openness of character. In business, I’ve always preferred the American way of backing my own judgment about a man rather than being influenced by references and testimonials. I did that with Craven, and if I'm wrong, it is for the first time. But, then, my dear, can’t I go wrong even once?” “Uncle! That’s the very first time I’ve known you to admit even the possibility of being; mistaken,” and she laughed merrily.

“But mind you,” Drew hastened to explain, “I haven’t yet decided that I am wrong.” He lowered his voice as he spoke the last few words, for Superintendent Willing was returning to the room looking much more pleased than when he left it.

“Well, Sir Bantock,” he began. “I have good news —good in the sense that it looks like being decisive.” “You don’t mind my niece hearing it, do you? She’s very discreet.” “Not at all,” Willing answered, and tried to make the answer sound convincing. Rowena w,a.s conscious of the doubt in the policeman’s mind, but she gave no sign of leaving.

“I should tell you first,” Willing said, returning to his seat; “that before coming here I had arranged for some of our Special Branch people to call at ‘The Downs - ’ this morning, and that telephone call was to report progress. They found there the four we had in mind —and one other. I would embarrass you by asking you to guess who the fifth was. I’ll tell you. He was your so-called Craven.” Drew made no comment, but looked hard at Rowena over the top of his spectacles. ' “And now we ha,ve the lot under our hands.”

“Have you enough evidence to warrent arrest?” asked Drew sceptically. “I’ve not authorised any arrests. These people have merely been asked politely if they will make statements to us about a matter in which they may be able to help us.” “Merely an invitation,” said Sir Bantock, with a grim smile. “An invitation which they know better than to refuse.”

“Why should a person ‘know better’ if his conscience is quite clear?” interposed Rowena, icily. “Of course. Everyone is presumed to be innocent until he’s proved otherwise,” said Willing rather pompously. “But the point is, Sir Bantock, that I’ve taken the liberty of telling my men to bring the party here. If you would care to be present at the interview, it niight save you a; lot of time later on, and perhaps some correspondence. It’s a shade irregular, maybe, but the only man likely to make any trouble over that is your chap—er— Craven. We know the others too well.”

“If you don’t mind my niece being present, Superintendent, I’m quite agreeable. But otherwise I shall have to .spend so much time explaining matters to her that I should gain nothing by permitting the interview to take place here.” “There again,” remarked the policeman “your fellow is the only one likely to make a fuss about the irregularity.” “I think I can answer that lie won’t” said Rowena very quietly. Already they could hear the sound of wheels on the drive and looking up, Rowena saw two dark-blue police cars driving slowly up to the entrance. Presently, Maddocks was removing hastily Willing’s coffee tray, and Drew

was holding the door of the library for ai group of eight people; seven men and a woman —a blonde, heavily furred, resentful-looking woman, wearing just the type- of hat Willing had expected; or so he told himself. (To be Continued.) The characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to any living person or to any public or private company.